The Ox and the Ass

In virtually every depiction of the Nativity of our Lord one can find an ox and ass, in fulfillment of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "the ox knows his owner, and the ass his master's crib, but Israel does not know Me, and the people has not regarded Me" (Isaiah 1:3).

Traditionally the ox and ass are symbolic of the Jews and Gentiles, respectively, as Gregory the Great (c600) explained:

“Who is the ox if not the Jewish people whose necks were bowed down by the yoke of the Law? And who is the ass if not the pagan, whom any rustler finds a brute animal without any sense and leads him astray where he will. The ox knows his owner and the ass recognizes the corral of his master, for the Hebrew people found the God whom they had worshipped but not known, while the pagans accepted the forage of the Law which they had not had” (Commentary on Job, I, 16).

Fittingly the ox and ass gaze upon the Savior of the world.

To Invoke or Not to Invoke the Saints?

Your humble scribe has posted a new article on this over at Gottesdienst Online.

Gift Idea

As Fr. Weedon says on his blog, if you still need a Christmas gift for someone, here's an idea.

Set Sorrow Aside

is a Christmas CD from the Mixed Chorus of our St. Paul's Ev. Lutheran Church, and provides some of what you'll hear live if you come to our Christmas Choral Vespers, an annual event scheduled for January 4, 2009, at 7 p.m. which I'm also unabashedly plugging here. A wine and cheese reception follows.

But if you can't come, you might want to hear a bit of it, as we made this recording last year shortly after the event.

So order yours today: $12.00 + $2.50 s&h. If you order up to five, it's still only $2.50 s&h, though here's another idea. Order as many as you like as a Christmas gift, adding $2.50 per CD for special s&h, and we'll include a little greeting from you to whomever you want us to send it to.

We'll take care of it all, and send you an invoice. Just send me an email. Better hurry, if you want to do it for Christmas. Be sure to put your full name and address, and, if it's a gift, the full name and address of the recipient, with your message (200 words max please).

Remembering Avery Dulles

The passing of Avery Cardinal Dulles (noted at Fr Fenton's blog) has me remembering some of the incisive and salient arguments he has made in favor of the filioque, in numerous publications and, as I recall, at a Symposium on the Lutheran Confessions in Fort Wayne in the mid 1990s (which, quite worth the read, may be accessed here).

I had a brief opportunity to speak with him during the q & a after his lecture, when he was, as I recall, thinking aloud that he could not recall the use of the term ekporeueto (to proceed) being used anywhere Biblically for a double-procession, i.e., for a procession from two sources. As it happened, I had just finished looking at Revelation 22, in which one reads this: "And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding (ekpereuontos) out of the throne of God and of the Lamb," and I mentioned that. He brightened and expressed delight at this, er, revelation. Dr. Scaer, the moderator at the time, quipped that perhaps this was a moment of divine inspiration.

I remember feeling quite pleased with myself that day, though I tried to hide my foolish pride to the best of my ability.

I later learned of Cardinal Dulles' exceptional work on the question of the filioque; indeed one might even suggest it is the twentieth-century equivalent of the writing of St. Anselm on the same topic.

His voluminous writing bespeaks what is undeniable: this man had a brilliant theological mind. No wonder he was the first U.S. theologian to be named to the college of Cardinals in the Roman Catholic Church.

Avery Cardinal Dulles, R.I.P.

Another Thing about John the Baptist

It occurred to me yesterday as I was about to preach St. Matthew 11 that there's another thing I hadn't considered before.

The question of how one preaches on John the Baptist in prison may depend on what one thinks about his prenatal state, as Fr Curtis has pointed out at Gottesdienst Online, though then again it may not.

I don't happen to think John was cleansed of original sin while in the womb, as I have my own version of 'pious' speculation on how lots of that sort of that pious speculation has arisen. And yet I have preached on many occasions that John did not ask the doubting question "Are you the Coming One, or do we look for another" not for himself but for his disciples. One does not have to hold he had had his original sin removed in order to think that he did not doubt here; you need not say he could not have doubted in order to say that he did not doubt. After all, he knew full well who Jesus was, and had seen the Spirit descend on him as he baptized him. All he had to do was remember that in order to be sure.

And yet--here's the thing I hadn't considered--in John's role as forerunner, it is his office to teach the Church, not only by what he says, but by example. So therefore, what do you do when you are beset with circumstances which might produce doubt or second-thoughts? You go back to Jesus and ask him: "Are you the Coming One, or do we look for another?"

That little thing provides an excellent opportunity for preaching.

Fr Curtis is First out of the Gate

Rightly deducing that the term Gottesdienst Online is fashioned after the term National Review Online, he has also declared himself to have provided FSPOTB, providing an article on Confessing with the Calendar, which is well worth the read.

Introducing Gottesdienst Online

The newest venture of Gottesdienst has launched.

Over at www.gottesdienst.org, we have added Gottesdienst Online, a new page on which we hope to provide a continual flow of online articles. From the first article there:

We hope to have this a bit better organized shortly, but for now we herewith offer to you, dear Gottesfolks, a series of online columns to tantalize, edify, provoke, please, irritate, or otherwise move you in the same way our print edition has done so for well over a decade.

To this end, we welcome three new editors, whose specific department is this Gottesdienst Online. You may expect to hear from them, therefore, as well as to the other guys here and there, in the days to come.

We are pleased to announce our newest editors:

* Rev Fr Heath Curtis
* Rev Fr Larry Beane
* Rev Fr Richard Stuckwisch


Gottesdienst continues to push ahead, ever seeking to promote and defend the Christian faith as it is expressed in our most holy liturgy.

+ Burnell Eckardt, editor-in-chief

Sorting out the Immaculate Conception

First off, I'm going to admit that we did not observe the Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary here on Monday. My own default entrenchment in TLH has me at a disadvantage when it comes to any observances and feasts whatsoever that are not found there. It's not that TLH is inerrant, certainly; it's just that it's become the indelible way my own synapses work.

We did celebrate St. Nicholas Mass on Saturday, though, and we will celebrate St. Lucy's next Saturday, so it's not that I can't bring myself to make changes; it's just that each one comes with some difficulty.

In my brain (the one I, the Frankengottesdienst monster, got when Marty Feldman dropped the normal brain and took the one from Abby . . .), there are a number of committees. Each change proposed must go through lots of red tape. During the process it often will sit unattended on a messy desk for extended periods of time. Sometimes there's a veto, or a subcommittee hearing, and the process takes even longer. Let the reader understand: I am a true conservative, in the most rudimentary sense of that term.

So anyhow, the Feasts for the BVM are all at various stages in this mental process of mine. The most recent one to be enacted (which actually means that I got around to celebrating it, really) is the dormition of the Blessed Virgin Mary, August 15th. That one underwent several alterations before becoming, er, law, in Kewanee. It is not called the Assumption, a la Rome, nor is it simply called St. Mary, Mother of our Lord, a la SBH. I must say, the former, notwithstanding its questionable historicity, is truly preferable to the latter, an abominable reversion to Nestorius. (Oh where is St. Leo when you need him?)

So here I am, still sorting out what I ought to think about the Conception BVM. It's certainly historical (I mean, she was conceived), and it certainly has the effect of helping us count her blessed among women.

And yet somehow I admit that I'm dragging my heels a bit on this. I have learned to trust my instincts (which drives my loved ones nuts, particularly when their instincts are at variance).

Maybe it's the whole Immaculate Conception thing that has me troubled. To those of us who are both interested in good tradition and in historical validity--which are usually not at odds with each other--sometimes there is a problem, and when it must be resolved on the side of what's true, we find ourselves troubled that we must set tradition aside.

So it is for me in the case of the Immaculate Conception. One might wryly say that the immaculate conception didn't take place until 1854, when Rome dogmatized it, though it was a popular view for a long time prior to that.

My own take on it is that it is the understandable result of a misunderstanding of Doubting Joseph, on whom a number of medieval hymns have been written. That is to say, it's most likely that that term "immaculate conception" arose in poetry from the angel's words to Joseph in St. Matthew 1: "Fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost."

In other words, the immaculate conception does indeed pertain to Mary, but not to her own conception. Rather, it is a reference to her virginal purity: Joseph, do not think ill of your betrothed; that which is conceived in her was conceived immaculately, without sin in her.

So, to return to my original musing, though I haven't researched this, I'm going to guess that the feast observed on December 8th, which is generally called the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, is reserved for the observance of Mary's own conception in the womb of her mother St. Anne. Hence (if this is correct) it is a faulty observance.

I may be quite wrong about this, particularly as I know it is observed also in the East. But even so, there are those tedious committee meetings going on in my brain even as I write, and there doesn't seem to be a resolution in view any time soon.

That said, I really do hate coming down on the side of Nestorians, Calvinists, and clowns who refuse to call Mary blessed, to say nothing of her being the Mother of God.

Perhaps somebody could enlighten me on this, but without even checking I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that the propers for December 8th are not what they should be. If there is going to be a Feast of the Immaculate Conception, it should be the Feast of Doubting Joseph, and the Gospel appointed should be the one from St. Matthew 1; though honestly, the notion of altogether new propers would never see the light of day in those cranial committee meetings of mine.

But if it had been so, then everyone would know, as I suspect it was widely known in Christendom around 900 years ago, when those medieval hymns were written, that the Immaculate Conception is an important thing to emphasize: Joseph, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.

The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars

As long as I seem to be doing such a good job of being misunderstood (as in the threads found here and here, for instance), I may as well venture forth and ask for more.

How about this one. In yesterday's Gospel, Jesus waxed apocalyptic in his reference to the sun, the moon, and the stars: "There shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; men's hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the powers of heaven shall be shaken" (St. Luke 21).

And the key, I repeat, is that Jesus is being apocalyptic here. As in, Danielic, Ezekielic, or, well, Apocalyptic (as in, last book of the Bible). He even references Daniel specifically earlier on in the Matthean counterpart to this chapter (St Matthew 24), so it is not at all unreasonable to suggest (here goes):

These are not references to heavenly phenomena like eclipses, falling stars, comets, etc.

How about references to the powers in place over God's people, i.e., the leaders of the nation of Israel, a la Joseph's dream. Remember that Joseph had once referred to the sun, the moon, and the stars as references to his own family? Well, how about here?

Consider: the fall of Jerusalem, referenced in Jesus' prior remarks, is to give way to the utter realignment of the heavenly authority of God, and this will cause men's hearts to fail them for fear and expectation, etc. Indeed, the Matthean version adds "immediately after those days" to this prediction. Now comes the age of the Church, which is something to which even the most devout of Jewish believers would have trouble adjusting. Gentiles qua Gentiles will be grafted in (interestingly, the Epistle for yesterday, from Romans, references that).

And then comes this: "And then shall they see the Son of man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh." Note that phrase "begin to come to pass"; in other words, the coming of the Son of man is something that will begin with . . . what?

St Matthew helps us again: "then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven." What sign? He shall send forth his angels, who shall gather the elect.

But the Day of Judgment is a day of separating. What, then, might these gathering angels be? Again, this is apocalyptic language. So, how about angelic messengers? As in, preachers?

In short, the sign that the Son of Man is in heaven would then be the preaching of the Gospel. When you see (i.e. hear) this preaching, you may know that the Son of Man is in heaven (he ascended on the very day he sent the preachers, after all), and that his return in glory is immanent.

I must offer a tip of the hat to Professor Jeff Gibbs for first alerting me, years ago, to the possibility of this interpretation, which I have embraced wholeheartedly.

That said, I'm still going to run for cover. I expect recriminations for this wild and unacceptable interpretation to fly . . .

Blameless Zacharias

It occurred to me, and I preached accordingly tonight, that the angel's reply to Zacharias in St. Luke 1 ("Behold, thou shalt be dumb, and not able to speak, until the day that these things shall be performed") was not necessarily a rebuke.

I've wondered about this, frankly, for years, ever since I read in Lenski's commentary a rather lame comparison between Zacharias 'disbelief' and the Blessed Virgin's question to the angel, in the same chapter, regarding her virgin conception of Christ. He declared, as I recall, that whereas Zacharias' question indicated unbelief on his part, Mary's question did not, but only an inquiry as to how she ought to expect the angel's word to come true, "seeing I know not a man." Hence, if you follow this line of reasoning, Zacharias was struck dumb, whereas Mary suffered no recrimination or ill consequence from her questioning of the angel.

All this assumes that what befell Zacharias was a punishment of sorts for his disbelief.

What's troubling about this assumption is that it is crystal clear, in the same chapter, that both Zacharias and Elizabeth were "righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless." We may deduce, I suppose, that suddenly Zacharias slipped up, or that in spite of his faithful blamelessness, he was nevertheless a sinner (which is certainly true, as in the case of all of us whose faith, like Abraham's, God reckons to us for righteousness). But neither of these explanations fits the context of this account.

Thus it occurred to me that the angel's rejoinder to Zacharias may not have been a rebuke at all. Perhaps it was merely an explanation for what followed. Because he did not believe the word of the angel, therefore a sign was given with it, to give him the confidence he otherwise lacked. Because he did not believe on the strength of the angel's word alone, therefore this was added: he was struck dumb.

Imagine it from Zacharias' point of view: first he experiences, and expresses, doubt over whether all this is really so. Then, he is struck dumb. How clearly this must have taught him the utter truthfulness of it all: he could not utter a word! There was the very proof he needed.

Similarly, we need additions to the sheer word of promise. So we are given Holy Sacraments, which are heavenly signs, seals from God, to accompany His promise. For we, like Zacharias, are prone to fickleness of the flesh. Hence God in His inestimable mercy grants to us the support we require, even as He did for this saint.

Want of Honesty

Every time I have to grade term papers (I've been doing a little online teaching on the side), I find evidence of cheating. People lift material from other sources, sometimes without any acknowledgment, or sometimes, while acknowledging the source, failing to indicate that the material is verbatim. The latter is not quite as serious, but in both cases, the student is making an effort to employ the wording, the grammar, the structure, and even the argument of someone else as though it were his own. This is essentially stealing.

This morning, coincidentally, as I was reading and grading essays, a story came up on FOX news saying that some 30% of students are guilty of plagiarism. Well, I thought, I guess I should take heart. My classes are much better than the average.

Of course the evidence of dishonesty is widespread throughout our educational system, as most everyone is aware. I have no data on whether it is on the increase, and even if I did, I suspect it would not give the whole story.

But it stands to reason that in a society in which the family has broken down, and parenting is rapidly becoming a lost art, there should be a corresponding rise in dishonesty.

Honesty must be taught in the home first of all. This, of course, does not merely mean that parents should merely lecture there children: Be honest!

It means, first, that parents should be honest, setting the example. Sit-coms like Everybody Loves Raymond are certainly entertaining, but they don't really help. Their shtick is often the web of lies that keeps growing as the liar tries to stay ahead of being found out. Such things ought never happen in a Christian home. Lies, however small, must be verboten. When children are found to have lied, it is incumbent upon parents (who themselves have presumably been honest) to show the children how devastating, how hurtful, lies can be; even the small ones. When you lie to me, you are taking from me my desire to trust you in the first place. Now, instead, I must be suspicicious, which is a sad thing. Children need to see the ramifications of their lies.

Moreover, parents should raise their children with the expectation that those children will be honest in all their dealings. When I was a child, and I might ask my mother, say, for five dollars, she would say, "Go in my purse and get it." I wanted to show her that all I was taking was the five dollars we agreed upon, but she would refuse, saying, "No need; I believe you." That was a positive lesson well learned. I did not ever want to betray my mother's trust.

Luther declares in the Large Catechism that the world is a large stall full of thieves. It is also full of liars, one might add. God is true, says St. Paul, referring to the Psalm, and every man a liar.

Since this is so, we must also be ready to forgive one another, and to give our children another chance. This is not to be confused with leniency. Infractions must have consequences, of course. But we need to inculcate into our children, especially the dishonest ones, a new desire to gain our trust. Let them know, when they have lied to us, that this will take some doing; but let them also know that we are benevolent parents who are eager to see them learn this lesson.

After all, we have a benevolent Lord Jesus, whose own heart breaks when we lie, but whose mercies are new to us every morning, and who therefore is likewise eager to see us learn the lessons His mercy would have us learn.

Check out St. Paul's Newsletter

It's online and may be accessed here.

The lead article is "Set Sorrow Aside," and there's also an old reprint from Gottesdienst if you scroll down.

For that matter, you might just check out the St. Paul's website first, through which the newsletter can also be accessed. So, go ahead, click here instead.

Whichever.

Want of Humility, part II

It’s even hard to be humble when you’re not perfect in every way. It's always hard to be humble.

I can think of at least two kinds of humility, both worthy ones. There is the kind I expect most people think about when assessing the genteel qualities of certain people they know or have met, characterized by attention to courtesy, civility, and consideration.

And then there is knowing yourself, and, upon becoming mildly terrified at the glimpses of your own wretched true nature you see in yourself, as you remember your place before God.

I have a vague recollection of a fascinating argument Rush Limbaugh had with a caller some twenty years ago, back then the nation was first getting accustomed to his style. I think the caller may have been a minister. Offended at Rush’s glib characterization of himself as having “talent on loan from God,” the caller sought to bring him to the realization that this was boastful and self-serving.

It was a long time ago, so I only remember that Rush fended him off quite well, though I don’t remember what he said. I do think, however, that one must understand that it’s merely part of Rush’s shtick, and that no one really has the right to be judgmental here. Besides, there’s scarcely something I can abide less than a feigned kind of humility, such as would be the inverse of Rush Limbaugh. I’ll gladly take Rush over that.

I suppose one could call me judgmental for that point of view, so to qualify, I’ m not going to sit here and point out particular instances of feigned humility; I’d even be willing to let Rush’s caller off with a dismissive “he doesn’t get what Rush is doing.”
But then again, if I do too much of that sort of thing, I suppose it could be seen as a feigned humility in me. So rather, what I’d offer as an alternative to the entire arena of what is or is not feigned humility are the two kinds of genuine humility I believe to be worthy of gaining.

The first kind, simply put, is common courtesy and good manners. We could stand more of it in the public square, even when one is put off by the remarks of one’s adversary. William F. Buckley, in my recollection, was a master of this kind of thing. Relentless in his addressing of issues, but always the gentleman. That in itself is a good thing.

Is Miss Manners still writing her column? I don’t think so. I remember one marvelous piece in which she, in the fine tradition of Emily Post before her, laid out the rules of verbal warfare. If someone says something that sounds offensive, you may reply with a simple “I beg your pardon?”, thus admitting to the real possibility that you simply misunderstood him, or, if you didn’t, providing him an easy way to back down from his offense. The next tier of conflict, if a more intense form of defense is required, is to say, “Pardon me.” And the last, the nuclear option, would be to declare, “How dare you!” But never, she wrote, is anything more than this permissible.

But this is not an unabashed advocacy of Miss Manners; I’m merely suggesting that common courtesy is a desired trait to be sought, and one for which I can easily chide myself for not having enough of.

The second kind of humility is more important, and has to do with one’s Christianity. Here we are speaking of a penitential spirit. This kind of humility is elusive, even among us who desire to live by it. An occasional divine intervention of some sort of ‘humbling’ experience is requisite for the learning, or maintenance, or recovery, of the kind of humility that gives way to faith.

This latter kind of humility is not between me and my neighbor, but between me and God, and is therefore intensely personal. So personal, in fact, that it causes most people to forgo confessing their sins to their pastors. Too bad, because the exercise of confession is for the engendering of just such a thing. To retort that it’s so personal that it’s not the pastor’s business is to misunderstand the role of the pastor as one who stands in for God and speaks for Him.

Both types of humility are in short supply, and have been more or less been perennially so, it seems to me. While pleading guilty to being a contributing factor in that phenomenon, at least I can count myself among those who still say that they are needful.

Cruisin'

Heard about that cruise ship on which Mitt Romney was ‘schmoozing’ Republican insiders last week? CNN said so, and Jay Leno even cracked a joke about it in his monologue.

Well, yours truly was there, at the invitation and for the benefit of my mother. (Why did the little old lady cross the street? Because she could, with a little help.) I must admit to feeling a bit sheepish, though, when some of the people we met commented on what a nice son I was to do this for my mother. Right: so very nice of me to go along, on her nickel, and spend a week on a cruise ship with her and help her get around. Mm-hmm, it was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.

Seriously, thanks, Mom, it was a truly memorable week.

Anyhow, one of the things I noticed was how thoughtful and considerate everyone was toward everyone else. These were mostly people who had never met one another, people from various walks and religions: Lutherans, Roman Catholics, Methodists, Presbyterians, Jews, bloggers, doctors, photographers, comedians, lawyers, farmers, writers, politicians, conservatives, and liberals. OK, I was kidding about the liberals. This was, after all, a National Review cruise. Although I didn’t see or meet any liberals in our group of some 700 strong, for all I know, there may well have been some hiding in the shadows.

I do think if there had been any liberals who had spoken up and voiced their opinions in conversation—you know, while schmoozing—they would have been engaged in honest, intelligent, and courteous discussion and debate. That’s provided, of course, they did so without the shrill voices and outlandish conduct we have too often seen from the loons on the outskirts of the left. I rather doubt that these folks would be willing to engage, say, the naked bicyclists protesting something or other in Portland, Oregon this week. Or Mahmoud Ahmadinejad without preconditions.

But these people were quite interested in intelligent, informed, and reasonable conversation; and there was lots of courtesy toward people like me who are not quite as politically informed.

Many times during the week my mother and I had opportunity to meet personally with some pretty well-known people, whether over drinks or dinner or even at random places. We talked with the likes of Fred Thompson (yes, the Fred Thompson), John O’Sullivan (Margaret Thatcher’s speechwriter), Jack Fowler (the publisher of NR), and Scott Johnson (author of How Arafat Got Away with Murder), to name just a few, and I found these people to be as gracious and down-to-earth as your next-door neighbor. This was not like the meeting of Oz the Great and Powerful with Dorothy the Meek and Small, and precisely because it wasn’t, I was duly impressed. No stuffiness, and absolutely none of haughty demeanor we sometimes associate with famous people.

No wonder, incidentally, there was tremendous applause every time Sarah Palin’s name was mentioned. She's down-to-earth too, just like them, and just like our next-door neighbors. There is something to be said about that kind of unassuming modesty.

Three cheers for this large gang of conservatives big and small, and their decent humanity.

A Primer on Rights

I suppose it was inevitable that people would one day begin expanding on the rights upon which the US Constitution is ostensibly based, going even beyond the Bill of Rights.

Today, for instance, we hear about the right to a fair wage. The absurdity of that one may be seen by restating it: the right to a fair wage is the right to have a certain value attached to your services. Well, who says? These kinds of "rights" are directly contrary to the notion of the free exchange of commerce, the essence of capitalism. Hence the right to a fair wage is really a stipulation that society must be in essence socialist. This begs the question who is going to be put in charge of determining what the value of services should be. If that value is not set by the marketplace, it must be imposed. This is contrary to freedom, which is the heart of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. Hence one may find an extrapolation of the constitutional basis in rights which is contrary to that basis itself.

Speaking of the Declaration of Independence, we will do well to consider carefully the meaning of "We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these rights are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

In the first place, there is the fact that the basis of authority here is what is considered to be "self-evident," an appeal to common sense. This document is the product of the age of Rationalism, whose consistent appeal was to Reason. The American ideal was tempered by a lack of excess, and comparatively speaking the Revolution was conservative in nature. A salient difference between the American Revolution and the French Revolution was that the latter took the ideas of liberty too far. The elimination of the nobility gave way to mob rule and the enthronement of the Goddess Reason and an unfettered mess. In America, by contrast, the need for the rule of law was seen as part of what was self-evident.

But in principle, any appeal to what is self-evident contains a seed of trouble, since what is self-evident to one generation may not be so self-evident to another.

And in fact, the phrase "among these rights" implies that there are more rights which are self-evident than life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Who's to say that the Bill of Rights must be the full range and extent of those rights?

Here's where the slippery slope upon which activist judges may base their rulings begins.

But what bears remembering is that the Declaration of Independence was written to tell the government what it had no right to do. This may be taken from the context in which it was written. The preamble was speaking first of all to the British monarchy, in effect saying, "We are not doing what is morally corrupt in our opposition to your throne; for we have from our creation as men as much intrinsic value and prerogatives as you; rather, it is you who are behaving immorally, in that you have denied us life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

The Declaration was in effect entering into the argument over establishmentarianism: was the throne established by God to dictate whatever it deemed legal, or not?

When this context is removed from questions over government, mischief arises.

Now rights may be applied to individuals over against other individuals, and consequently any notion of responsibility or of charity is left out of the discussion.

The fabric of life does not derive from the concept of rights. Only our obligations vis-a-vis the government may be argued to derive from it.

The fabric of life derives from God, to whom a brief nod is given in the Declaration; and what is in fact self-evident, though many choose to deny it, is that He has created life. We subsequently owe Him our existence. That is not a right; it is a debt.

People Are Getting Nervous

Maybe it's just me, but I'm getting the sense that normally impartial observers during this political season are having a hard time maintaining their balance. I'm thinking that's because they are really concerned about this election, more so than in previous cycles.

I refer first of all to Fox News, which is pretty much my own steady diet for TV news. I have given up on the others, aka the MSM, since their leftist bias has become so outrageous that it sends shock waves up my leg. They make Pravda look reasonable.

So Fox has become the top-rated news channel, since I'm not the only one who can see this. People became fed up with Olberman and his cronies.

And I've watched Fox during election seasons since the '90s. Admittedly my own view is biased, but with that awareness I think I'm seeing something new here. I'm not going to say they're "in the tank" for McCain, but they do seem to be rather up front in their distaste for the Obama campaign.

To be sure, I agree with them. And I'm not really blaming them here; one way to look at this is to say that with everyone else in the media on the Obama campaign team, at least Fox is balancing things out. I'm just wondering why it seems to me that although Fox is still fair, now rather than being balanced, they are the balance.

And I have a little theory about that. It's not only Fox, by the way. It's also the US Chamber of Commerce, usually careful about bald endorsements of a political party. Not any more. They are panning the Democrats this time.

My theory is that these folks are really worried about a number of things that are also worrying me.

With a Pelosi-Reid-Obama trifecta quite possibly winning the horserace, and perhaps filibuster-proof, we could be in for a really rough ride. That might have been palatable back when the Democrats had some respect for the US Constitution.

But I don't think McCain's complaints about Obama to be mere smear tactics. I believe they're legitimate concerns.

Meanwhile there's well-known massive voter fraud going on in battleground states, and Obama himself on record worrying rather about voter suppression (give me a break), with the Justice Department looking the other way (because the ones charged with not looking away are known Obama supporters).

I'm scratching my head thinking, wow, how far removed are we from a banana republic? On second thought, at least banana republics aren't aborting as many babies as we are.

Oh well. Let's hope the founders had this scenario in mind when they made the Supreme Court an impartial check on the other branches. We might just get to see if that works.

And meanwhile, I'll just go back to praying for our President, our Governor, and those who make and uphold our laws. After all, whether we like it or not, we are a nation under God. All things are, ineffably, under His governance.

Stewardship?

So this stewardship guy gets up and chides the seminaries for not teaching stewardship, suggesting that this is the reason our offerings are low. I'm sitting in the back of the room thinking, Nope.

I don't preach stewardship sermons. Ever. You know, the standard "Look at all Jesus has done for you, now what are you going to give Him in return?" I've always had a sense that your basic stewardship sermon is really a neatly disguised (or not-so-neatly, if you've heard it all before) plea for cash. The old "time, talents, and treasures" outline was really nothing but a ruse. You knew you were really only shooting for that last one about the treasures. The time and talents part was a way of trying to convince people that the whole stewardship gig was really oh, so much more than money. Bah. It's all about money, and who is being fooled?

Anyhow, I don't preach them. Once long ago, a fellow pastor, on hearing me say this, complained, "Well, what are you going to replace them with?!" To which I, having just seen the old black-and-white Luther film with a similar scene, replied, "Christ!"

But to return to the point, there was a false premise in this guy's question. I don't know about you, but our offerings are not low. I mean, overall they're not anything great, because our parish is rather small, but when that factor is taken into account, our people do quite well, I'd say. And why? Because they love their parish. They rejoice over the preaching of Christ in their church. They want to see their church thrive and the Gospel to be given free course, to the joy and edifying of Christ's holy people.

Eat your heart out, stewardship guy. I don't preach stewardship sermons. And my people are really exemplary in their offerings. Can you explain that? I can.

Liturgical Calendar is Up

The Gottesdienst Liturgical Calendar for 2009 is now posted at the Gottesdienst website.

Oktoberfest come and gone

A successful event has us cleaning up and reflecting.

There was, I think, a record turnout. Unofficial figures had us at 92 on Sunday night for the bratfest, so probably closer to 100 for the choral vespers prior. Monday's lectures were heard, unofficially, by 62; and they were all outstanding. Today's seminar was attended by 22 of us.

The weather was grand, and everyone seemed to agree that the event was well worth it.

More on it all later; for now, it's time to rest.

Oktoberfest!

THIS SUNDAY IT STARTS!

Registrations are up, and we're thinking we could get a record turnout. So if you haven't registered yet, do so now and start packing.

The brats arrive from Miesfeld's (award winning) in Sheboygan on Friday, and the hard rolls arrive on Saturday, fresh from Sheboygan's City Bakery. I guess some warehouse is out of Leinenkugel's, so we're going with Sam Adams Oktoberfest, also a very fine brew. I think there's a local ordinance in Sheboygan declares it a misdemeanor if you don't have beer with your brats, so, being a Sheboygan native, I've determinined that we'll have to follow the spirit of that law here in Kewanee.

But first, we assemble in the church at 5 p.m. on Sunday, October 12, for our Autumn Choral Vespers, featuring our talented Mixed Chorus. Vespers this year will anticipate Mission Festival day, which we will observe at Holy Mass Monday morning.

Following Vespers we move down the hall for the bratwurst and some laughing and scratching. We call it the best party on the block. Or in town. Or in the Missouri Synod.

On Monday morning, following Holy Mass at 9:30, the Oktoberfest seminar runs until 3:15 p.m.

Our conference theme is “A Tale of Two Synods.” We're welcoming four guests who have in recent years taken the walk across the rickety bridge from Wisconsin to Missouri.

Several years ago the Reverend Fr. Peter Berg, pastor of Our Savior Lutheran Church in Chicago, having been removed from the roster of the WELS, was received into the LCMS. This year his brother, the Reverend Fr. John Berg, pastor of Hope Ev. Lutheran Church in Fremont, California, has taken the same trek. In the meantime the Reverend Fr. Aaron Moldenhauer, pastor of Zion Lutheran Church in Beecher, Illinois, made the same move during his seminary training. He will be accompanied by his wife Tabitha, a scholar in her own right, who will provide a confessional Lutheran perspective on women’s issues. This year both Berg brothers became associate editors of Gottesdienst, and Fr. Moldenhauer received the journal’s Sabre of Boldness award for 2008.

On Tuesday, a liturgical seminar is again planned for a roundtable discussion seeking uniformity in our worship practices. Informed Lutheran clergy are particularly invited to provide input and exchange of ideas, although all are invited to stay for the day. For more information on that seminar, click here.

REGISTRATION for the entire event is $25 per person (students $20) or $40 per couple — which includes Sunday banquet and Monday continental and luncheon; and there's no charge for children with parents.

To register, send me an email with Oktoberfest as the subject. Give your name, title, address, and intentions: coming Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, or portions thereof. We'll sign you up; you may pay the registration fee when you arrive. Click here.