The Marvelous Old Collect for the Transfiguration

Without even looking at Lutheran Service Book, the new LCMS hymnal, I'm willing to bet that their version of the collect for Transfiguration Sunday is not as good as the traditional one in The Lutheran Hymnal. It couldn't be, because as a rule they have a tendency to remove 'heavy' subordinate clauses, to make things simpler, to sacrifice poetry for clarity, etc. And in so doing, in my opinion, they lose something really fine. Granted, the collect for the Transfiguration is a really complicated one. I think it's the longest; it certainly has the longest subordinate clause preceding its petition. But for all that, it's not only great poetry, but it tells volumes about the meaning of the Transfiguration, and about the whole Bible. You can structure an entire sermon around its parts. In fact, this morning, I did. Here's the collect:

O God, who in the glorious transfiguration of Thine only-begotten Son didst confirm the mysteries of the faith by the testimony of the fathers, and who in the voice that came from the bright cloud didst in a wonderful manner foreshow the adoption of sons, mercifully vouchsafe to make us coheirs with the King of His glory, and bring us to the enjoyment of the same; through the same Jesus Christ, Thy Son, our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Unpacking that, we find that the subordinate clause which describes God is itself in two parts. The first (“who in the glorious transfiguration of Thine only-begotten Son didst confirm the mysteries of the faith by the testimony of the fathers”) is a reference to fathers Moses and Elijah who are talking to Jesus on the mount. St. Luke’s account (chapter 9) gives us these details, and tells of how they spoke of His “decease,” actually a weak translation of exhodon, which more literally means “exodus” (here's a nice subtle reference to the Lukan account in the traditional series, which always has the Matthean Transfiguration Gospel). That is, they were speaking about the greater Exodus through death to resurrection through Christ who is the greater Moses. “The mysteries of the faith” are the words of the entire Old Testament, as signified by Moses and Elijah. Most prominently, the Exodus through the Red Sea is a mystery foretelling Christ. This and all the mysteries are “confirmed” by the testimony of Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus. See, Moses and the prophets have always been talking about Jesus; now they are doing it face to face with Him. This confirms what they have always been saying. “Search the Scriptures,” He says; “They testify of Me.”

The second clause (“who in the voice that came from the bright cloud didst in a wonderful manner foreshow the adoption of sons”) refers to the fact that the voice of the Father calling Jesus His Son is an echo of His voice at Jesus’ Baptism, and in one fell swoop makes the connection between our Baptism and the adoption we receive as “sons” of God in the Son of God.

Next comes the petition itself “mercifully vouchsafe”—that wonderful old-world word “vouchsafe” means to grant or give, as by favor, graciousness, or condescension; the word is a summary of the whole Gospel, really; pity it was lost to our tongues—“to make us coheirs with the King of His glory,” which is to say, make us heirs of the glory of the King together with Him, “and bring us to the enjoyment of the same,” which is a cry for the return of Christ in glory.

This collect is brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Count it one of many reasons the old way is better . . .

Correction on the Preus Nomination

Since it has been called to my attention that my brief words describing the reason Rev. Rolf Preus was one of our Sabre nominees were a bit deficient, if not misleading, permit me to make a correction.

It is incorrect to say that his stance against the Evangelical Lutheran Synod was "because they had adopted an unbiblical, purely functional position on the Office of the Holy Ministry." That is rather an inference I drew from their stance, and in retrospect, without sufficient warrant.

On the other hand, it is not too much of a stretch to suggest that the reason the stance of the ELS now accomodates schoolteachers is that there is a long and wayward history among American Lutherans which sees "ministry" chiefly in functional terms, as in, any use of the Gospel, rather than as the office of the Gospel preaching, the Predigtamt. The Wisconsin Synod has wandered deeply into these waters, and the Missouri Synod has, it seems, solved her problems by ignoring AC XIV altogether (ala the Wichita Convention). A good accounting of the history of the matter is summed up rather nicely on Rev. Preus's website and may be better expressed succinctly as an elastic or even evolving view of the Ministry, with a view to accomodating schoolteachers. It is against this view that Rev. Preus took his stand. To be sure, the ELS also accomodates the view of the ministry as Office, as Predigtamt, distinct from "the priesthood of all believers," but inasmuch as it also insists on doling out a portion of this Office to the unordained schoolteacher, one still hopes their bureaucrats have not counted the matter of AC XIV settled just yet. Indeed I'm told that there are some valiant efforts afoot among the faithful there to hold the Synod together, to its confessional moorings, and that their efforts might as well be deserving of the Sabre of Boldness. Three cheers.

Dr. Ronald Feuerhahn Receives Sabre of Boldness

Fort Wayne, Indiana, 18 January 2007. The Hilton Hotel at the Grand Wayne Center was the site for the awarding of the 2007 Sabre of Boldness Award, a recognition given annually by the editors of Gottesdienst for Christian courage and faithfulness in the face of trouble or affliction. This year’s recipient, Dr. Ronald Feuerhahn of St. Louis, a longtime member of the faculty of Concordia Seminary, was cited as one “who has been a rock for decades, providing to an entire generation of confessional Lutherans instruction—in speaking and in writing—as well as stalwart support, encouragement, and aid to the cause of the Gospel, and who has never flinched in the face of hostility.”

There were three other nominees who were also recognized for their faithfulness and valor. They were

• Rev. Rolf Preus, a pastor in Minnesota who took his stand against his church body, the Evangelical Lutheran Synod, because they had adopted an unbiblical, purely functional position on the Office of the Holy Ministry. In spite of bureaucratic warnings, he refused to back down. For this he was removed from the ELS ministerium, leaving him a man without a synod.

• Rev. Eric Stefanski, whose tireless efforts in cyberspace have often made him an easy target for enemies of the Gospel—for which he has suffered personal loss—while the fruit of his networking skills may well prove to be monumental.

• Rev. Thomas Olson, Decatur circuit, Indiana, who during the past year stood toe-to-toe with a high ranking administrative bureaucrat, mano-e-mano, and without flinching told him to repent for manifest and public errors, notwithstanding the headaches he knew this would cause for him in his own situation.

Dr Feuerhahn, who was present at the ceremony, graciously received the award to a standing ovation, and spoke for a few minutes extemporaneously on the importance of the confession of faith in love, and concluded by thanking those present, most especially his wife Carol, who was with him.

The ceremony opened with preliminary remarks made by Chaplain Jonathan Shaw, editor of the Sabre of Boldness column in Gottesdienst. He then introduced Dr. Eckardt, who, prior to the announcement of the nominees and winner of the award, gave the following address.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your kairos, as a former synodical president used to like to say. It’s your appointed time. It’s time to stand and be counted, and time to make your stance known. And speaking of time, Time magazine has it right: the man of the year is You. You da man. You have left your homes, you have taken up the call. You have arisen to defend the cause of a faith worth dying for. You were in the field, you were grinding at the mill, you were eating and drinking, you were marrying and giving in marriage, and you stopped everything. You heard the trumpet sound, and you came. To arms! To arms! you heard. You donned your armor, you rose to the challenge, and you prepared to march. Yes, you heard that the grand Sabre of Boldness was about to be drawn, so you came.

Well, okay, maybe that’s overstating the matter just a hair. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that you’re really just here to attend a symposium. Still, I’d like to think there is some truth to the idea that you like to be in the company of compatriots all bent on confessing the same Gospel.

In the year 1095, when Urban II called faithful men to arms, he told them how the infidel Turks were advancing into the heart of eastern Christendom. Christians were being oppressed and attacked; the holy places were being defiled; and Jerusalem was groaning under the Saracen yoke. The Holy Sepulchre was in Muslim hands. To arms! said Urban, for God himself will lead you; you will be doing His work. God wills it!, said he.

Nine hundred years later, it is infidel rock musicians who are advancing into the heart of Christendom. And it’s Christians’ ears that are being oppressed and attacked by the pounding of barbarian drumming and the twang of electric guitars; it’s the holy and sacred liturgy that is being defiled; and it’s Wittenberg that’s groaning under the Willow Creek yoke. The Holy Altar is in the hands of buffoons; and their teenage daughters are dancing around it as before a golden calf; and too many Lutherans are either utterly fooled or utterly tempted by this hedonism thinly disguised as contemporary worship; they can’t help themselves, so they join right in, at the expense of everything they used to call holy.

But today there are no Crusades, there will be army of Red Cross Christians marching to regain our Holy Lands. A sword will be drawn tonight, but only as a gesture symbolic of resistance. The arms to which you are being called are the arms of spiritual warfare, as the Apostle has described it.

Maybe it’s just my own fertile imagination, but it seems to me that this thing gets bigger every year. It started small; it was just a mustard seed, when, twelve years ago a few random Lutheran gentlemen sitting with Lutheran beverages in a Holiday Inn right here in Fort Wayne hatched the idea of handing out an annual award for boldness. In fact, it was just a whim back then, just a twinkle in the eye. But as soon as it hatched, it seemed to catch on. It seems that folks just love nominating people for this thing.

I guess we all still want our heroes. And ever since the greatest ones in our generation died, we have longed for more of them. In the church, there was Robert Preus, and in the world there was Ronald Reagan. So now we look for more heroes, and we rejoice when we see glimpses. We hear of soldiers like Jason Dunham who died last Thursday because he jumped on a live grenade to save his buddies; and we remember churchmen like Kurt Marquart, who never flinched when standing toe to toe with bureaucrats who flaunted their authority. Our need for heroes has never waned, even if the cultural icons of liberalized America would scold us for having it. They have even altered the heroes of our modern mythology. Dirty Harry has almost been forgotten, cowboys have gone gay, and, unbelievably, Lois Lane was last seen saving Superman. Where have all the heroes gone?

The very existence of the Sabre of Boldness is testimony to our perennial quest for heroes. I might add that it’s this very fact that gives us poor, miserable Gottesdienst editors the idea that we can grant anyone an award of any kind in the first place. Whoever gave us that right? I keep thinking—hoping, really—that the longevity of the award, now in its twelfth year, will somehow serve to provide it with a legitimacy which, if the truth be known, we could never provide. Then again, I have to remind myself that this award really has no benefactors. It’s merely something given as a simple acknowledgment, a humble doffing of the hat, toward someone we wish to designate with that lofty and elusive title hero.

And yet, the Sabre’s recipients over the past eleven years would doubtless blush at the very notion of being called heroes. Heroes? they’d say. We aren’t heroes; Christ is our Hero. Saints and martyrs are our heroes. John the Baptist was a hero; the Holy Twelve were heroes; Stephen, Polycarp, Perpetua, Laurence—people like them were heroes. Or even like Martin Luther. They are the heroes, not we. And who could gainsay that correction? Or dare to add to so august a list of heroes as that with the names of our own compatriots?

Then again, what’s the difference between an apostle or prophet who suffers for doing his duty and a simple pastor or layman who suffers as a Christian today? Which of the heroes of old ever stood and said, count me in! I’m a hero too! Rather, they would all said with John, I must decrease. And so too must this award be understood rightly, lest it be misunderstood as a sort of self-congratulatory thing among us confessional Lutherans. We are not here to award ourselves, certainly. And even if we were to admit that maybe there is a tinge of ego that shamelessly arises in the heart whenever a man secretly wishes he were the one picked—you know, like the donkey in Shreck—we who have our theology right can at least recognize the Old Adam for who he is, and wish ourselves rid of him once and for all. No, this award is for someone else. It’s not for us. It’s never for us. It’s for our heroes. And yes, we do still have them, though they often walk among us unnoticed. Indeed, the recipient of the Sabre bears the Sabre not for himself alone, but, we hasten to add, for all of the unsung heroes in the world, who in the simple course of doing their Christian duty, have quietly steeled their chins against the devil, and refused to let him have his way. When threatened, they were not intimidated; when enticed, they were not fooled; when tempted, they did not fall; and when pressured, they did not yield.

It is this multitude of simple heroes that we salute tonight. In granting this award to one, the truth is that we seek to honor many. We can’t name you, for you are too numerous, and too unsung—you are not really known to us; we only see glimpses of you here and there, in the little acts of courage born of a Christian heart which takes its stand, when it can do no other.

Burnell F. Eckardt Jr.
Editor-in-chief, Gottesdienst

Symposium Week Looms

The rest of the world may tour on its merry way, but for me and my beloved, it will stop for a week. We're off to Fort Wayne again. Actually it's again for me, but for her, it's the first time for a symposium in about twenty years.

Some people don't like being there that week, and I can relate. Over the years I have learned to take in only those parts of the week that I want to take in, and leave the rest. Good grief, there are lectures and lectures and lectures, and then there are papers given in side rooms by Persons of Lesser Importance; there's a recitals and a choral vespers, and daily chapel, and there are gatherings and parties, and the big Thursday banquet. Well, I'll take in some of it, but certainly not all.

I'll be there to renew acquaintances and have a good time.

And, of course, for the most important event of all, the great Sabre of Boldness award Thursday night at 8, at the Hilton. Now that one I won't want to miss. I can't; I'm in it. The event has taken on a life of its own by now, somehow, and that's fine, because it's a worthwhile thing. Awarding someone who stands out for courage and confession, someone who represents all the rest.

Nominations are still coming in. Until next Wednesday when the nominations are closed, and the editors of Gottesdienst vote on the winner.

See you there.

How New Year's Day Came to Be

Some time in the 14th century, I think it was, a decision was made somewhere to move New Year's Day to January 1st. It had been Septuagesima Sunday up to then. You can even check this out easily by considering the names of some of the months. September, October, and November, and December ought to be the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth months, if you go by the significance of the words, but they aren't. They used to be, and February was the twelfth, approximately, depending on Septuagesima Sunday. Historians need to be careful about the dating of events prior to the 14th century because of this.

I haven't researched the reasons for this, but one can easily surmise that the old new year's day was so designated because it was the time of the shifting one's liturgical gaze from the Nativity to the Passion and Resurrection of our Lord. As for the new new year's day, it is sensible to count the years -- anno domini, years of our Lord -- from the Lord's manifestation in the flesh. In the West this is observed December 25th, roughly the winter solstice, though I don't know why it's a few days off.

Perhaps it's because since it's better to start the year with the start of a month, the day of the Lord's circumcision and naming wound up being observed on the day of the year's beginning, January 1st, since it is the eighth day from His birth.

Eight is a big deal: it's the first day of a new week. It's a harbinger of Easter. This day is also a harbinger of Good Friday, of course, since it's the day of observing His circumcision in the flesh, the first shedding of His sacred blood.

So therefore, here's my guess: they counted back to December 25th to observe the nativity, after choosing the first of January to observe the circumcision and name, and to observe the new year. This would also serve to suggest an origin for the practice of making new year's resolutions; rather as if to say, "be renewed by the circumcision of your mind."

Anyhow, that's my unresearched but educated guess.

God Is Pleased with Men

The earliest version of this sermon was preached in 1979 at my vicarage church in Lincoln Park, Michigan. I have been adapting and reusing it ever since. It comes a day early, as a gift to any preacher who still needs to come up with a sermon for Christmas.

Let us consider again the message from the angels to the shepherds. If you were one of them you would surely never have forgotten. You would have heard a message that would have been seared onto your memory forever. Because the grand proclamation made to those Judean shepherds was made by a multitude of angels. What sort of message could require all those angels? If on this one occasion, God sends not one, not two or three, but a multitude of angels, He must have something of utmost importance to say. In fact, it must be the most important thing He ever said to men, because nothing else ever required the presence of so many angels. What was the message of the unanimous and glorious chorus of heavenly messengers? Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men; or, to put it another way: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men, with whom He is pleased. The message from that multitude of the heavenly host of angels was clear and simple: There is peace on earth, dear shepherds, because God is pleased with men.

For thousands of years after this grand proclamation, men would go on supposing that peace on earth is something accomplished by the ending of all global conflict, when at last all weapons are laid down. If only they had heard and understood the message of the angels, they would have known that peace on earth has already been accomplished. It isn’t something to be hoped for, it is something that is. For the message of the angels was clear: God is pleased with men.

But at this point the objections of reason will sound forth at once. This can’t be right. Some men are wicked, heinous, tyrannical, cruel. Some are murderers, thieves, adulterers. How can anyone say that God is pleased with men, or that there is peace on earth? There must be some mistake.

But to the shepherds there was no hint of a mistake; it was angelic. In fact, even if one considers the absurd impossibility of an angel being mistaken, the message didn’t come from just one angel; it came from a multitude of angels. Could a whole countryside full of angels all bellowing out one unanimous message be mistaken? Listen to the angels, o shepherd in the field: God is pleased with men.

But Satan must also raise an objection to this: How can this be? I have done my work well, I have caused many to fall deeply into sin, I have made them all sons of hell; I have filled them with all manner of wickedness, so that their thoughts are only evil continually. I have trapped them in pride and self-worship; I have made them sell me their souls. This message can’t be right! It’s far off the mark! It’s foolishness! Don't listen to it! It must have come from the mouth of a lunatic!

But it didn’t. It came from the mouths of angels.

And thank God for those angels. For if there are some men with whom God is not please, then surely we are among them! And if you were one of those shepherds, you might easily find yourself wondering—in fact you might be wondering right now—whether these objections may have a point. What about me? I am not worthy of God’s good pleasure, am I? Conscience pricks, and I know I have sinned. I know I am guilty, foul, and unclean. A thousand years of tears would not suffice for once worthily lamenting my wretchedness. How much more am I poor wretched man, who daily sin, continue without amendment, and approach God in sin. And the truth is that if God is not pleased with all men, he could never be pleased with me!

O thank God for those angels! And thank God for all the lights and tinsel of Christmas, and all the carols and cheer, and all the bells which ring out the news which every sinner needs so badly to hear: Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled! Here we see the reason there is peace on earth, and why God is pleased with men. It isn’t because of what kind of men they are that God is pleased. In fact, it has nothing at all to do with the nature of man. The reason is this: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior which is Christ the Lord. And He didn’t come to be Savior of part of the world; he came to save it all. And if He is Savior of the world, then it makes all the sense in the world to say that God is pleased with men.

Those Bethlehem shepherds undoubtedly never forgot the angelic message on that first Christmas Eve. Would that you might remember it as they must have; that it might be seared into your memory, your heart, and your conscience, that you too might never forget the grandest angelic proclamation ever heard on earth: Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace among men, with whom He is pleased!

Just Give the Poor Lady Her Chair Back

A ninety year old shut-in I visited was crying in her bed. This woman had had a number of strokes which made communication difficult for her, but if you listened carefully you could make out her words. So when I asked her what was wrong, it took a little while and then it came clear. She was upset because they had taken her wheelchair away and given her another one. And, she said in the best way she knew how to frame her words, she liked the old one because it had a tray, and a place to put her drink. Hmm, thought I, that's odd. Why would they do that? So I promised her that I'd check into it for her and let her know.

I went to the nurses' station and, yes, they knew about her complaints. Evidently she had lost some weight so that her old chair was a bit too large for her and now she needed a smaller one. OK, I can follow that, but what about the tray, I asked. Well, said the lady, I'm going to look around for one, and if we can't find one within a day or so, well then I guess we'll have to give her back her old chair. But, she said, the reason she wants this is because she wants to have her place to set her glass, and, well, that's not really safe. I said, oh, I see, and, trying be congeniel, said I understood, but, of course, to this poor lady who is very upset, that chair is her whole universe. Yes, they said, we don't want her to be upset, and we'll do our best. I thanked them and reported back to her, encouraging her to be patient, and that they really did care about her, and would do their best, etc. She thanked me, though was still visibly upset.

Not angry, really. Crying. Very sad.

As I drove home, I got to thinking that I could have done better by her today, and I'll certainly have to follow up. I doubt if she has anyone else as an advocate with the people there. What I should have said was: Oh, so she's been spilling her water lately? And then they'd probably say no, but she might. Or even if she had been spilling, I thought, and I could have said, so what? A safety issue? After all these years, a safety issue? Or is it really a convenience issue? I mean, how dangerous can a little water spill be? They're plastic cups, for heaven's sake.

The world will continue to turn, and presidents and world leaders will negotiate treaties. Wars will be fought, and momentous events will continue to take place on a grand, cosmic scale. But to this poor old woman, none of that mattered. Here was a lady I have been visiting for ten years. She never complains, and she usually has a pleasant disposition and a smile, even if she can't talk much. Maybe some of her mind is gone, too, though she still seems lucid enough to me. She is consigned to a nursing home for the rest of her life. Very little if any family remains in her life, as is sometimes the case with nursing home patients. And yet she has never complained about it, which I find amazing. Very little work goes into making this woman happy, it seems to me. I mean, I wonder how I'd do in such a case. She really is a sweetheart, as even the nurses agreed. But today, she was all broken up. Not because of life and death matters, or gut-wrenching, earth-shattering events. She just wanted her chair back. It was her house, in a way.

I don't mean to beat up on nursing home personnel. I think most of them probably deserve medals for the work they do, for which many others (myself included) don't have the stomach. I only mean to offer this little suggestion to anyone who might find himself in a situation where so very little would be needed to brighten up a person's whole day. A word of advice: just do it. Just do the Christmas thing. Ma'am, might I suggest you put your manual aside for a moment, and just give the poor lady her chair back. It may just make this her best Christmas.

Who Is Zacharias?

In the middle of some reseach on the matters pertaining to the nativity of our Lord, I ran across a fascinating bit of information. There can be found in the Protoevangelium of James, which may be the oldest of the apocryphal Gospels (which never gained any recognition as to their authority), quite a number of items which seem to be the source of much of the extra-Biblical tradition concerning Joseph and Mary.

For instance, it is this document which speaks of the ass for Mary’s journey, the cave for Christ's birth, Salome and the midwife verifying a virgin birth (utero clauso), and even the Marian colors of dark purple (blue?) and scarlet (Mary was given these colors of linen for spinning).

In addition, there is an account of the murder of Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist, between the porch and the altar in the temple, by Herod's men, when Zacharias would not (or could not) produce information concerning his son John's whereabouts (John and his mother Elizabeth had gone into hiding in the desert, where a mountain was miraculously cleft to receive her and her son).

The research provides an interesting take on Jesus’ reference to the murder of Zacharias in St. Matthew 23:35 (cf. St. Luke 11:51): "Upon you [shall] come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zacharias son of Barachias, whom ye slew between the temple and the altar."

If this is the Zacharias to whom Jesus refers, then the reference in the Protoevangelium of James is to an historical reality. Others who hold to this theory point to the fact that none of the other three Zacharias figures to whom it could refer is as likely. The priest Zacharias of 2 Chronicles 24:20-22 has the wrong father (Jehoiada), the prophet Zechariah seems to have been obeyed and not martyred (Zechariah 6:7), and Zechariah the son of Baruch, though slain by Zealots in the midst of the temple, was not slain until A.D. 67 (Josephus, Wars of the Jews, Book 4, Chapter 6, Section 4), which would require the admission of editorializing on the part of the Evangelist. None of the books of Esdras contain any evidence of any crime so heinous committed in the Temple court.

The account given in the Protoevangelium of James is actually quite believable, in view of the likelihood that Zacharias would have met trouble at the hands of Herod’s men searching for Bethlehem’s Holy Innocents, if indeed his wife and child had gone into hiding from them.

This would certainly help to contextualize Jesus' invective against the scribes and Pharisees: perhaps they were not only guilty of saying bad things, but of murder: it was after all the scribes in Herod's court who first brought Bethlehem into the madman's mind. And when Herod was troubled at the wise men's words, it says that "all Jerusalem" was troubled with him, a likely reference to the scribes and Pharisees in particular. So it is likely that when Herod sent his murderers to Bethlehem, it was with their blessing. Their last act of murder, literally, could well have been the murder of John's father. Jesus is saying that their murderous line began with Cain, as they fill up in their own time the cup that began with Abel's murder.

I'm still pondering all this, so I'm not quite sure, but it makes sense to me for the time being.

Gottesdienst rooms for the Symposium

The annual feel-good-about-being-a-confessional-Lutheran fest is nearly upon us, id est, the Symposium on the Lutheran Confessions at Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, from January 15-19. In case you haven't heard, the real excitement that happens there during the week is the annual Sabre of Boldness ceremony held right after the seminary's Thursday night banquet.

So please pay attention to this announcement, all you who so love that event (we've been getting over 200 packed into the room in recent years), all you who can't wait to see who will be the honored awardee, all you who get teary-eyed with excitement when we make known our Acadamy-Awards-like presentation. Yes, yoo-hoo, all you who like this so much: listen up:

This year (Hark!) the Gottesdienst Hotel has moved. We are at the Hilton, downtown. That's right at the Grand Wayne Center, where the banquet will be held. The price is the same as the Marriott would have been (a special rate of $89 per night), but for the best hotel in town. The Marriott is remodelling and could not accomodate us this year. OK, fine, so we got a better hotel!

And we need your patronage, because we need to secure a certain number of room-nights so that they'll let us have the ceremony room for our Sabre awarding. Sign up at the Hilton, folks. Call (260) 420-1100 and be sure to tell them you're with Gottesdienst.

While the Hilton is a few minutes farther from the seminary, the upside is that it's a splendid hotel for the same price and it's right at the place where the banquet will be on Thursday night. Cool, huh?

Join the Gottes-gang again for a great week of Symposia events and the great Sabre of Boldness Award.

Say, speaking of the Sabre Award, you may nominate anyone you like for that, even on this blog if you want. Give us the person's address, and the reason for nominating. It's an award which is given for steadfast intrepidity in the confession and defense of the Gospel and at the greatest personal risk. Know anyone who fits the bill? Let me know and we'll consider . . .

Epiphany Choral Vespers and A Day of Reflection

Coming this January:

A Winter Retreat for a day and a half

at St. Paul’s in Kewanee

Sunday and Monday, January 7-8, 2007

Sunday: Choral Vespers: At 7 p.m. January 7 our annual Epiphany Choral Vespers will be held. Join us in song, and to hear our fine choir sing traditional Christmas and Epiphany carols. This year will also feature the repeat of our own cantata “Shepherd of Israel.” Following Vespers, join us in the cafeteria for a wine and cheese reception. Join us, to make glad your hearts during these holy days. (Snow date: Wednesday, January 10, 7 p.m.)

Monday: A Day of Theological Reflection (Eighth in the series), from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. on January 8, led by our pastor, the Rev. Fr. Burnell Eckardt, Ph.D.:

“Assuredly Solomon shall reign”

The Christology of the Line of David

There is no charge, but a freewill offering will be taken.

St. Andrew's Cross

St. Andrew was crucified on 30 November, a.d. 60.

Tradition has it that it was because of Andrew's preaching that the wife of a wicked Roman proconsul became a Christian, which so enraged that official that he ordered Andrew's crucifixion upon a cross made in the form of an X. To this day that type of cross is known as St. Andrew's Cross. St. Andrew himself is remembered as one who heard of the Christ, believed on Him, and then willingly followed His bidding. Now the bidding of Christ is often hard, leading to persecution and even death. But what is Christian martyrdom? Behold St. Andrew=s Cross: the X shape is also the shape of the Greek letter Chi, which is the first letter in Christos, that is, Christ. St. Andrew was martyred on that blessed letter! To follow Christ is to be united with Him; so also, surely the most blessed expression of that union is the experience of His holy wounds. Recall the words of Christ in the vision of Saul who had been persecuting the Church: Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me, Me? Therefore let all who suffer for His sake rejoice and be exceedingly glad. This is the highest of honors.

--Taken from Every Day Will I Bless Thee: Meditations for the Daily Office by Burnell F. Eckardt Jr. (Sussex, WI: Concordia Catechetical Academy, 1998), s.v. St. Andrew's Day. To order a copy of this book in time for Christmas, go to www.peacesussex.org, click on CCA Store bar, and download the online catalog. The cost is $21.00.

Fanatics are Always Dangerous

Regardless of what religion's in view, when people get the notion that they have a direct hotline to God, there's bound to be trouble.

The Mormon guy on trial--what's his name, Jeffs?, leader of a fundamentalist Mormon sect--is accused of forcing an underage girl to marry an older man over her objections. One tack of defense he is purportedly arguing is that God told this to him. Hopefully the Utah jury will follow its recent course of impatience with these wierdos.

But let's take on the argument for a moment. OK, so Jeffs heard directly from God that he's supposed to force this girl to marry. I guess his lawyers are going to spin this into a barely more palatable notion of religious freedom.

And what will the prosecution say? Of course, they will simply refer to the letter of the law, and thus no doubt win the case. You can't do things like that around here, fella, no matter who told you to do them.

You know, there's something refreshing about the rule of law. It's a curb to fanatics of all stripes. And it's a warning to everyone. In society we are governed by what is written. In the faith, too, we are, and must be, governed by what is written.

So don't come and tell me that God told you this or that. Don't even tell me He gave you a sign to help you decide this or that. Good grief, that's why you have a brain. Think! Make your decisions carefully, but don't rely on some ethereal "sign" from God. Trust only in His Word, which is a lamp unto your feet and a light unto your path. And if His Word doesn't tell you specifically what to do in a certain situation, beyond giving you the moral direction of His law, then don't go looking for some bedewed fleece. You can do that if you're a prophet, OK? Otherwise, how different are you than Mr. Jeffs? It's only a matter of degree, I say, which is a rather flimsy difference. So, you say that God gave you a sign to help you decide what job to take? Did He really? And how do you know? By what sense did you receive this revelation? And if the sense by which you received it is no different than the sense by which Mr. Jeffs received his, then how are you different? And what would stop you from doing something really crazy, even contrary to God's Word? After all, if God is speaking directly to you, well then, shouldn't it trump what you get out of a book, no matter how holy it is? So what happens when you are told directly that you ought to give in to some sort of immorality? The Bible says no, but God says yes! Ah! Go with God, then, right? And wind up in jail, I say, the sooner, the better. Because you can't do things like that around here, fella, no matter who told you to do them.

But Advent and Lent Are Not the Same Thing

Yes, there are certainly similarities between the two great penitential seasons of the year: the emphasis is on the need for contrtition, and there really should be no weddings scheduled. And, depending on your tradition, some other things are off limits too. Like certain foods. An Advent fast is urged just as a Lenten fast is urged. There are venerable traditions which would agree, and a particular Advent fast is a long-standing custom in some places.

It seems to me, though, that fasting ought at least to be enjoined a bit more seriously during Lent than during Advent; the former is, after all, is even called Die Fasten in German.

The seasons have significant differences, too, which, I would submit, can give us some direction as to how they are to be handled respectively. Lent is a season which tends to grow darker as it moves on, until the darkest time, the Triduum Sacram, is reached. Then, suddenly, at the Great Vigil, Easter arrives and all is instantly brightened. Advent, by contrast, tends to grow lighter from week to week, as is most prominently seen in the lighting of successive Advent candles each week. Advent is a season of penitential hope and expectation, while Lent is a season of penitential sorrow as the Day of Christ's passion approaches.

Inasmuch as Advent has this 'brightening' character to it, it seems prudent to me to allow that certain customs need not be quite as stringently applied as in the case of Lent. OK, so for example, neither season ought to celebrate a wedding, but I for one don't mind if people want to have a Christmas party during Advent. Our choir has one, for that matter.

If it makes you liturgically uncomfortable to sing Christmas carols at parties or in the marketplace before Christmas, I recommend remembering that this isn't church. The Advent hymns can and should still be the standard fare for Holy Mass and any other worship settings; but I'm fine with carolling outside of Mass. After all, it's the only time of year you can actually hear some great hymns about Jesus in the marketplace at all. They want to pipe in Hark, the Herald for shoppers during December? Hey, fine with me! I'll take it any time. That goes for creche scenes and holiday lights, too. I love 'em all! Holiday shopping season have too much tinsel, you say? Nay, I say, bring it on. Don't want to see too much of the Babe in swaddling clothes? Well, I do, and that image is as meaningful to me as the crucifix. Both are saying, Pure Gift from Heaven. Now what can be wrong with that message?

So, at our church, we, um, gradually decorate during December. This is a bit parochial, perhaps (well, come to think of it, maybe not), but we put up a little more each week. The tree goes up some time in the middle of the month. We hold off on the gazillion poinsettias until Christmas Eve, and also the white paraments, and, yes, the Chrsitmas carols. Nevertheless prior to Christmas Eve there's a hint of a difference in liturgical appearance from week to week, consistent with the lighting of another candle each week.

So just try to think of those Christmas parties as times to rehearse the carols meant for Christmas itself. OK? How's that? We're just practicing, see? It's all good!

End Times

There is significant evidence from the first millenium of the life of the Church that there was originally a seven week season of Advent, at least in some locales. The evidence comes out of the period when the church year was in its development stages. Remants of this can still be seen in the current church year pericopal systems, both the Historic and the Three-Year. Themes for the last three Sundays of the church year are eschatological in nature, that is, they deal with the Day of Judgment and the End of all things. So too, this theme is -- or ought to be -- prominent in Advent, particularly for the Second Sunday in Advent.

Some current pericopal emphases tend to deemphasize this eschatological theme, which is understandable, given the refusal of many churches these days even to acknowledge the teaching of a return of Christ in glory, to say nothing of emphasizing it.

This trend is most notably apparent in places where churches cave in to the demands of some that Christmas preparations provide for the singing of Christmas carols during the Sundays in Advent. One could reason that these demands are better than societal demands for a wholesale removal of Christmas, in favor of nondescript celebrations for the winter solstice or kwanzaa or the latest fad. Better perhaps, but not good enough.

Let Advent be Advent. And let the churches remember the high importance of the eschatological theme for the season. Advent is a time of preparation, to be sure; but what better form of preparation is there for the coming of Christ than penitential hearts? The preparations of the season ought primarily to be penitential preparations for His return.

His coming in grace will be all the more welcomed when the need for it becomes evident to us by the preaching of repentance. Hence also the emphasis of John the Baptist for the latter weeks of Advent. And the liturgical color ought to be purple, the color of penitence, rather than blue, which of late has been called the color of hope or expectation. Actually, blue is supposed to be the Marian color, isn't it?

If we wish to celebrate Christmas aright, it must be as gift for the undeserving; and therefore let us be penitent during these days leading thereto.

Basketball Hero

OK, so your humble columnist was never very good at basketball. I used to be the guy they picked last, one of the scrawny kids they’d put in at the end when the game was out of hand. My basketball shorts were a little too big.

But now let me tell you ‘bout my youngest son. I haven’t even talked to him yet myself, but this is what I heard from his brother Joey.

Today, at an away game (I don’t even know who they were playing, because we don’t go to away games), the Kewanee Steamers pulled off a miraculous come-from-behind win, in the manner of the stuff that legends are made of, courtesy of one fabulous Michael Gabriel Eckardt.

As one of the shortest members of the junior high school team, Michael’s only claim to fame is that he is pretty good at making three-point baskets, which is just what the team needed in order to pull off a stunning victory.

Down by six points with 25 seconds left to play, they got the ball to Michael, and he put in a three, “nuthin’ but net.” Then his team stole the ball just a few seconds later, and managed to get it to Michael a second time, who obliged them with a second three point basket to tie the game. The other team still had a few seconds left on the clock, and drew a foul as they brought the ball down court. One free throw went in, and the heroic effort seemed to be for naught, because now, down by one, they had to inbound from the baseline with only 2.5 seconds left in the game. On a wing and a prayer, the inbound pass was heaved nearly full-court to this day’s best outside shooter in the world. Michael spun around at the free throw line and got off a shot at the buzzer.

Swish.

Pandemonium.

Proud papa.

Our Dog is an Awesome Dog

It just came to me the other day, as I was scratching behind Reggie's ears and he was being his usual doggy self. A little goofy, to be sure, but then so is the original. I'm not sure how the music goes, but you can find it anywhere on the web, if you want to sing this one. If you do, I'm worried about you. If you know the music already, then I'm really worried about you. . . .

When he rolls up his bones
He ain't just putting on the schmooz
There's thunder in his footsteps
And cuteness in his schnoz

The Lord wasn't joking
When He made this mix retriever
It wasn't for no reason
That that we found this lab

His two ears are very soft
And so you better be believing that
Our dog is an awesome dog

Our dog is an awesome dog
He runs on earth below
In summer, fall, and snow
Our dog is an awesome dog

Our dog is an awesome dog (Our dog is an awesome dog)
He runs on earth below (he runs)
In summer, fall, and snow (in summer and fall)
Our dog is an awesome dog

Our dog is an awesome dog
Our dog is an awesome dog

(fade)

Too busy to blog this week, but see . . .

I read Fr. Petersen's blog about staying in the LCMS, which I find refreshing and well worth the read. I recommend it to you: click here and see in particular his "Why I abide in the LCMS (and you should too)"

Skype Me!

The world is getting smaller all the time. Wow, downloading Skpe was easy and free. To do it, just log in at www.skype.com or click here and follow the simple online directions. Now I can talk to anyone in the world who has Skype, for free, whenever I want. The other person has to have Skype too, and a little microphone or headset for his computer. And as I understand it, at least until the end of this year, you can even call people who don't have Skype for free too, in the U.S.

This is huge.

If I were really into investing, I'd put my money here. It's, as Howard Hawks would say, the way of the future. I predict that the telephone will soon become a thing of the past. People everywhere will have these little barely noticeable headsets, and be talking to friends in Calcutta or wherever, whenever. I suppose it's too much to hope that it will all be for free; but maybe for a very few dollars.

Meanwhile, the audio streaming idea of mine is getting closer to reality. Hopefully that will be in place very shortly. Then you can open a file that lets you listen in to our half-hour radio show whenever you want. Also, of course, for free. I think we may pass an offering plate, though. Isn't that a requirement among Lutherans?

A Salutary Whisper

One of the rubrics we follow at mass at St. Paul's is found in the old Roman missals, but I wouldn't expect to find it in any Lutheran hymnal. Maybe that's because Luther used to express scorn about the monks endlessly muttering the words in a way that no one else could hear. This is a point well taken, of course, but it doesn't mean there's nothing ever salutary about a whispered prayer, especially at mass.

The rubric I have in mind instructs the celebrant and all the attendants at the altar at the moment of elevation of each kind not merely to adore, i.e., to gaze upon the Sacred Species being elevated, and to recognize it for what it is, but actually to whisper, while gazing, the words "My Lord and my God." This, I say, is a wonderful rubric, for it directs the attention of those attending to the truth here: this is the Incarnate One Himself, whom we are about to receive. These, of course, are the words which Thomas spoke to the risen Christ on the Sunday after Easter when he was confronted with the reality of His resurrection and presence.

The same is true at the altar, especially at the point when the words of institutition are spoken: "This is my body; this is my blood." So then, immediately after the consecration of each Kind, the elevation comes; and we whisper, "My Lord and my God." And then we receive Him by mouth, and so receive our Life and Salvation.

The other day I actually heard the server's whisper, and it was a pleasant sound indeed. Sometimes, I can hope, these young men really do seem to get it; they understand what's going on here. Would that such whispers might be heard the world around, and that such quiet, serene faith might abound among all of our churches.

A sermon on St. Matthew 3

Holy cow, I didn't even know they were recording it, but there it is, right on Father Petersen's blog, an audio file of my sermon there last month for the St. Michael conference. Some folks were asking for copies of it, and since I don't use a manuscript, I didn't have any. Well, there it is, right online, to listen to. Check it out here.

Rachel Weeping for her Children

We received news yesterday that our daughter-in-law has miscarried her child, who would have been our firstborn grandchild. While this is not an uncommon thing, it is always especially hard for newlyweds who still await their first child. Nevertheless they, and we, rejoice in hope, in the confidence that our Lord Jesus Christ is especially fond of little ones, whom He blessed and held close to His breast. Behold what a wonderful life this little one has: a life for which Adam was meant, free from all pain and trials of life on a fallen earth. For the angels escorted this child of
God directly to the bosom of Abraham, without the infirmities which befell Lazarus or any of us poor lifelong miserable sinners. No toils or sorrows, no tears, only joy and abiding peace.

As for us who must remain in this vale of tears, we find comfort in the sorrows of our Lord, strength in His weakness, and the promise of life in His death. Ah, who would, then, not depart with gladness To inherit heaven for earthly sadness? Who here would languish Longer in bewailing and in anguish?

Many have sent heartfelt condolances, and among them came this from Fr. Petersen, which I find most worthy of passing along:

I am very sorry for you and yours.

It should not be so. Children should not die before they are born. They should not die at all. One day they won't. One day, the Day of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the groaning earth with stop its lament, the grave will give back the dead, and the revelation of the sons of God will be evident to all stars and planets, rocks and trees, animals and men. We will be free. We will dance and play with the Holy Innocents, and with the miscarried babes of Christian women from time immemorial. Rachel will find the comfort she refused.

Until then we live by faith. We wait on God more than they that watch for the morning. For what we endure is more awful than darkness and night filled with hostility and danger, and what comes with the rising Son is greater than mere safety, warmth, and rest. We are eager for the end, for the completion of what God has begun. And thus we pray: "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Put this sorrow to an end. Turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and put the children back into the arms of their mothers."

TONIGHT, October 2 at 6:05: St. Paul's On the Air

"This is St. Paul’s On the Air: A radio program brought to you by St. Paul’s Evangelical-Lutheran Church in Kewanee, Illinois, where you know you’ve been to church: no gimmicks, no compromises, the talk is straight, and we feast on sacred things. Join us."

Those words will be heard after the choir sings the first stanza of "Saints and Martyrs and All Angels." And that's how our local radio show will debut tonight on the local Kewanee station, WKEI am radio, 1450 on the dial.

The voice continues: "Our moderator and discussion leader is . . . me: the Rev. Fr. Burnell F. Eckardt Jr., Pastor of St. Paul’s here in Kewanee, Illinois.

"I’m sitting with a small panel of listeners around a couple of microphones carefully positioned to help you get into the room with us and listen along.

"Our format for the show is catechetical. That means talking, listening, and discovering together. It’s a theological forum of the Church catholic, including a topical discussion of Apostolic doctrine, historic liturgy and rubrics of The Mass, the early church Fathers, The Reformation, and what’s on your mind today. We invite questions from the panel or from you. If you should have a question about anything having to do with the Christian faith, and you’d like to hear it discussed on this show, you may email it to us, using the email address pastor@stpaulskewanee.com, or write us at

St. Paul’s On the Air

109 S. Elm Street

Kewanee, IL 61443

"If you want to learn more about me or our church, log on at www.stpaulskeweanee.org."

The 25-minute show has two parts, first a Q & A entitled “Why?” which is named after our Sunday morning segment, called “Why,” a question beginning with the word “Why.” So, as I ask during Sunday morning class, “Does anyone have a Why?” The question on the air tonight will be "Why is worship so formal at St. Paul’s?"

The second segment is called "Searching the Scriptures" and will be dealing with Genesis chapter 1 tonight.

The show is already in the can, with a few minor glitches, but on the whole, it's an exciting new venture here. We'll see where it leads.

Have Gown, Will Travel -- in hopes of teaching rubrics

Actually, I'm only taking a small carryon and a briefcase, due to airline restrictions, but I'm off to a doubleheader this week. First, it's off to the St. Michael Conference, moved this year for the first time from Detroit to Fort Wayne (Redeemer), to do a workshop on the rubrics for the celebrant at mass; and then the next day I wing through Chicago to a second itinerary to Denver, to attend the second annual Augustana Ministerium conference, where I must present a paper/discussion topic on the Historic Liturgy.

Both of these will be opportunities to plug our new St. Paul's Liturgical Institute. We're finally planning to do some hands-on teaching to make up for what has long been a serious deficiency at the Lutheran seminaries. Sorry to make this claim, but it's true. For too long, the bulk of training in how to do the ceremonies has been relegated to 'field work' parishes in the seminary neighborhoods. So neighboring pastors show the students how to do it. How did they learn? In field work, in their seminary days, by neighboring pastors. It gets pretty close to the blind leading the blind, when the seminary doesn't take the lead in these things.

It's been awhile since I've been there, so undoubtedly things have changed a bit, but not nearly enough, from what I hear out of recent graduates. Much more work is needed. Till then, the St. Paul's Liturgical Institute hopes to fill in the blanks.

First seminar, by the way, is in Kewanee, Illinois, from October 20 till November 3. To learn more, log on at www.stpaulskewanee.org (I sure hope the website is running ok; there are bugs in it still), or email me: eckardt@kewanee.org.

A Letter to the Editor

To the editor [of the Wall Street Journal]

Brent Stephens’ “Pope Provacateur” (9/19/2006) is certainly a welcome and refreshing rebuttal to the fanatics whose very manner of response sort of proves this pope’s point. In particular I found myself nodding agreement with his highlight of the Pope’s recognition that for Islam, God is utterly transcendent, “not bound even by his own word.” This is also the case, Mr. Stephens notes, for Protestantism. Here, however, a distinction is needed, and the Lutherans’ perennial defense against being lumped with the Protestants might be a particularly helpful ingredient in the faith-and-reason debate. It was John Calvin, roughly the contemporary of Martin Luther, who insisted on the utter sovereignty of God, characterized by a boundless and transcendent will. Pristine Calvinism bears some striking resemblance to Islam in this respect. Luther’s complaints against reason are not to be understood in the same way. His complaint was always against the exaltation of reason above what is revealed. The Pope’s argument sounds similar to that of St. Anselm of Canterbury, with whose famous declaration, “I believe that I may understand” Luther had no quarrel. Indeed when the Pope affirms that God must be bound by His word, he and Luther begin to sound very much alike. When God is divorced from His word, whether by Christians or Muslims, the danger of fanaticism always looms nearby. Since Calvin never saw that utter divine sovereignty and divine mercy were incompatible with each other, his thought never reached the radical stage of which it might otherwise have been capable. With Islam—although it certainly has its moderates—there is no mitigating notion of divine mercy at all to offset a transcendent and untethered divine will. The result can easily be, understandably, a very unruly mob of people. They’re acting the way they believe their God is capable of acting.

They're Here

Well, I knew this was coming. I told you so. We now have women ministers in the Missouri Synod. We just don't know it.

Here's how they did it. For the past thirty years, we've had the notion drummed into our heads that you can't ordain women, it's against the Bible, etc. So the SOW* folks decided to change their tactics in order to get the women pastors they always wanted.

Step one: convince everyone that ordination is an adiaphoron, an indifferent thing. Never mind that the Lutheran Confessions permit you to call it a sacrament, it's nothing more than a nice apostolic custom which we are free to take or leave. By the way, to any idiot who wants to retort that the Confessions do not require us to call it a sacrament, I'd like to say that I dont require it either: but in permitting such a designation, the Confessions are at the least affirming that it is an act of God. I wouldn't want to call an act of God an indifferent thing, would you?

But the SOW* crowd accomplished the first step, and now synodical types everywhere are convinced that ordination is really an adiaphoron, in spite of the fact that the Church has never designated someone as a minister without it.

Step two: reintroduce the historic diaconate, something the Synod should never have abandoned in the first place. I remember the haughtiness of the committee at the last convention which, when asked to consider an ordained diaconate, declared, oh no, ordination is a term reserved for pastors. Sure it is: as of 1853 in our synod alone. Talk about parochial!
Anyhow, now deacons are popping up here and there without ordination, and in fact the duties of a deacon, given for example in the Mid-South District, are pretty good ones (for which click here). Only trouble is, they're not ordained!

Oh, and this: there are females among them! Want to see one? Just check out the Mid-South newsletter, click on July-August, and go to page five (thanks to Fr. Larry Beane for the heads up on this). So now you have what I knew you were going to get: women in the ministry, women preaching, women administering the Sacraments. But it's all OK, because they're not ordained! You synodical types will just never get it, will you? You've been duped into this, and you never knew what hit you; the SOW* crowd can just give a quiet aside to its members: don't worry, ordination is no big deal anyhow. After all, we can even arrange for you to get your holy tax break, like we did for our "commissioned ministers"!

Now instead of this nonsense, can we please get serious about having a proper diaconate, complete with proper ordination? Like I said, they have a very nice explanation of what a diaconate does (and, unintentionally, why it should be an ordained diaconate), which, once again, you can see if you click here.

*Synodical Organization of Women, which actually doesn't exist as such, but is definitely a crowd of people who think the Biblical mandate against women preachers doesn't apply to them. They, like the NOW crowd, seek to impose their brand of feminism on the rest of us.

Octoberfest is Coming

Announcing . . .

The Eleventh Annual

Octoberfest

At St. Paul’s Ev.-Lutheran Church

Kewanee, Illinois

Sunday afternoon and Monday, October 8-9, 2006

Conference theme: Arranging Everything around the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar

This year we hope to have presentations by as many of the Gottedienst editors, live and in person, as we can get. Our editors include Dr. Burnell Eckardt, the pastor of St. Paul’s, who is the editor-in-chief, Dr. Karl Fabrizius, Rev. Aaron Koch, Chaplain Jonathan Shaw, Rev. John Fenton, and our newest associate, Rev. David Petersen. We expect most if not all of these men to be on hand to speak to participate.

The two-day event begins on Sunday afternoon at 5:00 p.m. with Autumn Choral Vespers, followed by a bratwurst banquet and awards ceremony (actually a bit of horseplay . . .). Monday’s schedule begins at 9:00 a.m. and includes Holy Mass at 9:30, followed by a series of seminars on the Sacrament and its centrality in the life of the Church. The day’s events end with Vespers at 3:00 p.m.

The conference fee, which includes three meals, is $25 per person, $40 per couple, or $15 per student. Children with parents free.

For more information, call (309) 852-2461.

Lodging: AmericInn, 4823 US Hwy 34. 800-634-3444

Aunt Daisy's B & B, 223 W Central Blv.d. 888-422-4148

Kewanee Motor Lodge, 400 S Main St. 309-853-4000

Super 8 Motel, 901 S Tenney (Rt 78). 309-853-8800

Days Inn, I-80 & Rt 40, Sheffield. 815-454-2361

Holiday Inn Express, I-80 & Rt 78, Annawan. 309-935-6565

Directions: Take Illinois State hwy 78 to Central Blvd. (middle of downtown), and turn east. Go two blocks east on Central to the church. Red-brick Neo-Gothic building. No, it’s not incense you see rising from the vicinity; it’s bratwurst smoke…

To register, you may send us an email (Eckardt@kewanee.com)with the following information:

Title

Name(s)

Wife’s first name if applicable

Address

Email

Phone

Church

Sunday and Monday or Sunday only or Monday only

You could also reply to this blog and let us know, if you want, if you don't mind everyone in the world knowing that you're coming. But why not? It might encourage them. Then again, if you're shy, just send us your data as I suggested in the first place, in a separate email.

Man's Best Friend

We finally did it. After a twelve-year hiatus without a dog, we have now increased our family size by one canine. We've had a fine cat in the intervening years, whose objections to this new brother are actually not as fierce as we might have expected, but I must say I disagree with Robert DeNiro's character in Meet the Parents. He said, as you may recall, that cats are better than dogs because they don't sell out, they make you earn their affection. Maybe so, but the thing about dogs is that they are loyal, as everyone knows. You can be the ugliest, craziest, or most neurotic, hated, or odd person in the world, and you dog will still love you. A dog's love is pure grace. I guess that's what I need.

So anyway, this little Labrador-retriever puppy is only four months old, and we're pondering a name for him. On top of the list right now is Reggie (the boys like this one, for Green Bay legend Reggie White). My favorite, Wyatt, was nixed. Also rans included Brett, Vince, and Lambeau. I would have liked Herb (my favorite Packer was Herb Adderley, back in the day). We also considered Luther, but that's a bit too common among Lutheran pastors. Also Bach, Mozart, and Johann. I sort of liked Laphroaig too, or Islay, or Malt (he is a brown dog), or simply Scotch. But I guess that would be better for a terrier.

Anyone with ideas may submit. We still haven't decided.

In other news, we have learned that we are to become grandparents sometime in late April or early May. Forgot to blog about that the other day. I guess that shows how much I am into instant gratification. Like, we have a dog right now, and the baby is still a ways off.

A Double Life in the Blogosphere

I just spent a little while surfing through various blogs. Man, I am behind the curve. They're everywhere, and they are multiplying faster than rabbits on enzymes. Some of the blogs I saw are sharp and witty, and had me chuckling, thinking, gee, when I grow up I want to blog like that. The links are helpful ways to get you from blog to blog, but they can also blow you away, when you begin to see what looks like a vast blog-wing conspiracy seemingly seeking to take over the universe. There are blogs for everything. Naturally, I especially liked the one I ran into debating the virtues of Ann Coulter (she's my girlfriend, according to my dear wife, who seems to be all right with this).

What I find somehow stupifying is that there seems to be a lot of time and effort going into these blogs, some of which are updated daily. This is a veritable Phoenix which has arisen from the ashes of ruined newspaper empires. There must be millions who are writing and reading blogs. Reading too, because of the comments that get attached to the posts. Hey, is anyone reading this one? Ah well, I have been known to talk to myself on occasion.

So anyway, I'm wondering just how much time people are spending at this stuff, and I'm thinking maybe it's way too much. Or is it? The jury is out, I guess. On the one hand, it's so much fun to sit in front of the screen and type away, and not have to deal with life's real issues. It's a great escape, and in a certain respect one can easily live a double life in the blogosphere. I guess everyone knows there's cybersex too for those who want it, and nobody has to know. What a convenient place is the blogosphere for vices of all kinds, from the x-rated kinds to the garden variety, which, while tame by contrast, can be plenty harmful. Sloth is one the deadly sins, after all.

On the other hand, I suppose blogging can be a very good thing, as it's a means to reach people's minds and engage them in conversation. The blogosphere is very large. Anyone from Australia reading this? Or Siberia? Or the planet Pluto? As is usually the case with vices, the vice of overblogging is the abuse of a good thing.

And wouldn't you know it, here I go, spending too much time at this already. See how easily one can get carried away?

Something Missing?

Today I read an article about how the Pope went to see Veronica's veil, supposedly kept in a village about three hours from Rome. As I read the account, from a Roman Catholic source, I noticed the usual sense of wonder over miraculous things meant to verify the Christian faith. It is now thought by some that this 'veil' may not be the veil with which Veronica wiped Jesus' face as He was on the via dolorosa, but the headcloth, or "sweat cloth" found folded separately from the shroud in the empty tomb on Easter Sunday. There are some compelling data about the veil which contribute to the possibility that it is genuine, and yet, as is the case with most artifacts and relics the Church of Rome maintains, a thread of sensationalism running through the report. It's almost as if they're wanting these things to be true to bolster the Christian faith.

On the other hand, when I finished the article, I turned to some current events and doings among Lutherans, and I saw a completely different approach. Here, there was no concern at all about matters which have a direct connection to the life of Jesus, the matters reported in the Gospels, but rather, an abundance of emphasis on 'reaching people', evangelism, spreading the 'gospel', etc.

And I think that somehow, the attention given to relics and artifacts, while often bordering on superstition, is better, nevertheless, than attention given to 'sharing your faith'. The latter is too often subjective, personal, and devoid of any real Gospel content.

While certainly it is possible--and even laudable--to take the opportunity given to 'tell someone about Jesus', the emphasis on this telling has reached such a fevered pitch that, ironically, little about Jesus ends up being told at all. Rather, passing reference to who He is and what He has done might be made, while the heart of the telling is usually the invitation to receive Him, or to accept Him into your heart.

It's easy to criticize Rome for its superfluity of relics and superstitions. But I must say that there does seem to be at least a grain of goodness, if only a small one, in paying more attention to things which actually bear a better connection to Jesus than my own personal experience of His presence in my life.

The Shriven Woman

Tonight I'll be preaching on the Gospel from St. Luke 7, so I'll muse about it a bit in print. This woman kisses Jesus' feet and washes them with her hair, because she loves Him. She loves Him because she was forgiven much, as He says. So the false religion of this Pharisee is exposed. See, he had invited Jesus to dine with Him, no doubt because Jesus' high esteem among the people would likely help the Pharisee's own esteem with them. So it is with many who call themselves Christian yet know nothing of associating with sinners, to say nothing of repenting themselves. The Pharisee's indignance likely showed on His face, for when we are told that Jesus gave answer to what he was saying only within himself, we need not suppose that our Lord was drawing on His omniscience to know it; it was surely evident. There's a wonderful renaissance painting of this scene -- it might be a Rembrandt -- which shows the pomposity of the rich Pharisees decked out anachronistic nineteenth-century attire, while this poor ragged woman crawls up to Jesus' feet in their midst, making all the dinner guests uncomfortable. How little she has regard for appearances, thinking only of the overwhelming fact that she is in the presence of her Master; but how much they regard appearances, thinking so much of them that they miss the wonder of this occasion: their God is visiting them here, but they are too busy being indignant to notice.

Let all beware of false piety, and of keeping up appearances for their own sake. And let us follow the example of this public sinner, this harlot. She is unquestionably Mary of Bethany, as we are told in St. John 11 where this occasion is connected to Jesus' visit to her home. And when Jesus on another occasion visited Mary and Martha, it was Mary who sat attentively at Jesus' feet. This is not because she wanted to come off as pious, but just the opposite. She was utterly taken with Him, absorbed with Him, and her cup overflowed.

So must we all learn to be. Repent of false piety, and find your place on your knees before Jesus' feet. Wash them with your tears and wipe them with your hair; place yourself meekly beneath Him. For He forgives sins, another thing the Pharisees could not abide.

Become like Mary, then: close out the world and its Pharisaical masks. See only Jesus before you, and be overwhelmed: your God is He, claiming you, shriven sinner, for Himself, and forgiving all your sins.

A Priestly Blessing

I trust Father Hollywood won't mind if I paste his belated reply to an earlier post here, as I find it most helpful, and something with which I heartily concur. Father H., I like the way you think:

"I realize this post is delinquent, I had meant to chime in earlier. A benefit of living in a heavily Roman Catholic area is that people seek out the blessins of the clergy. They "get" just what you're saying about the priestly blessing and the authority given to Christ's ministers.

"Strangers will come up to me and ask me to pray for them and bless them - even with my wife and son in tow (obviously, I'm not a Roman priest).

"This happens even more frequently when I'm in a cassock. To those who think the 'adiaphora' of clerical garb is useless, or even worse than that, negative - you need to put on a cassock and stroll around the neighborhood.

"Big guys with tattoos and little old ladies will come to you with pained looks on their faces and ask you to give them the blessing of the Lord Jesus - whom they know you represent and in Whose stead you stead.

"That's evangelism without a program, slogan, balloons, or even the letters 'TM' in fine print. "

Amen to that.

A Must Read

Say what you want about Ann Coulter, this latest book of hers is right on the mark, besides being an entertaining and fascinating read. No wonder the Left hates her so much: she is unafraid to call a thing what it is, and she does it with matchless wit and sauciness.

The reason I likewise am unafraid to recommend Godless: the Church of Liberalism is that it is not so much the reflection of a particular political stance as it is the exposing of scoundrels whose true aim seems to be the destruction of what is good (even of life itself, as in her arguments against the abortionists), and the rejection of the Creator (as in her case against evolution). This is not really a political book; it is true to its title, and it makes its case with remarkable skill.

And it does so with a flair which leaves no one wondering if Miss Coulter isn't just another fundamentalist bent on denouncing immorality for its own sake. She is too sarcastic and funny to be one of those; yet she argues with an aptitude which reminds me that she was once a lawyer by trade. She is a veritable Xena with words; even the New York Times has had to admit as much.

The first half of the book is methodical in its demonstrations of its claim that the Left is godless, so thorough that it left me feeling rather like St. Anselm's interlocutor blurting out that there is no possibility remaining of anyone issuing a rejoinder. Miss Coulter clearly subscribes to the doctrine of employing overwhelming force against the enemy, at least in literary terms.

About midway through the book she takes her case into the classroom, and proceeds to take on the myths promulgated by the behemoth teachers' unions in America. But this in itself provides a segue into the last, unexpected half, in which she dedicates several chapters to dismantling the myth of evolution.

She joins a host of recent writers who have begun to take on the scientific community's most basic Darwinian assumptions. In effect, the Scopes monkey trial is being revisited in our day. In fact, she exposes in particular that trial as the publicity stunt that it was.

But Miss Coulter is no slouch: she provides a tremendous amount of research and support for her claims, which is especially significant when she makes her case against Darwin and his heirs. And there is a difference between the way she battles the evolutionists and the way the fundamentalists have done so. She battles them on their terms, and exposes their tactics, while at the same time revisiting the case for Intelligent Design, unafraid to take on even a recent op-ed in the Wall Street Journal.

And she is not, contrary to popular belief, merely the conservative movement's answer to Michael Moore. Or if one insists on making the comparison, then only insofar as one can compare high class and savvy to juvenile follies.

But no mere reviewer can really make this point stick merely by saying it, which leads to the chief assertion of this review: Godless is a book that deserves to be read, by friend and foe alike. Anyone who chooses not to do so with a dismissive wave of the hand, as if to say, "Oh, that's just Ann Coulter, after all," has no business arguing against her case.

Back from Idaho

We're back from a fine vacation in Idaho, and I expect to be posting soon. One thing I mused on while seeing gorgeous tree-blanketed Rocky Mountains was this: These mountains must have been created by the Flood, in one day. The continents shifted west and caused the backwash of oceans to make a mountain range all along the west coast right down to the tip of the Andes. So the jagged edges of rock so prevalent there are a reminder of God's power and wrath. But the fact that many of them are now covered with trees ought to be a reminder that the wrath of God has now subsided, even as the flood waters themselves did. Indeed, what better natural symbol of mercy could there be than a tree? As the hymnist Fortunatus said it, "Faithful Cross! above all other, One and only noble tree! None in foliage, none in blossom, None in fruit thy peer may be. Sweetest wood and sweetest iron! Sweetest weight is hung on thee." So the image portrayed to knowing eyes by tree laden mountains is this: God's wrath has been put aside by the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, and mercy abounds. No wonder the scene is so idyllic and calm.