The Confessional Ingredient in Having a Tabernacle

A hundred and nine comments on one blog post is about enough. One of you owes me an evening with a fine single-malt.

But there are some matters which need further exploration, it seems to me, as opposed to mere hashing over old arguments.

A desire to know my real reasons for building a tabernacle is a fair enough inquiry.

Of course there is the chief reason, mentioned in the former post on this subject (required reading for anyone wanting seriously to contribute to this conversation), which, simply, is that it is the best way to give honor to the reserved elements.

This begs a second reason, which is that, in my view, reservation is preferable to celebrating mass in a hospital room.

There is a third reason, which has been lurking in the background of much of our conversation in the former post, and I was reminded of it by the antepenultimate comment, by a certain Anonymous:

"Which came first:

"- Your desire to take Holy Communion to the shut-ins from the same elements as were used in the Sunday mass, and so you retain it and thus adore it during its retention; or

"- Your desire to adore the elements from the Sunday mass, and so you retain it under the good intention of taking it to the shut-in?

"Trusting that no one here would side with the second half of the question, there is nothing sinful or evil with this practice."

The truth is that what came first was a simple reservation of elements, many years ago, in a fit receptacle in the sacristy. I began to feel uncomfortable with that, and to think that for fitness I could really do better. The members of my parish agreed, and the rest is history.

And yet what happened as a result, almost instantly, I realized how this had become an opportunity to confess the Real Presence against receptionism.

Today, nobody in my parish is afflicted with that ghastly disease, I can tell you. Nor does anyone believe in the Real Withdrawal either. And everyone, including some little children, knows that the church is the place for reverence, because of the Body of Christ on the altar.

I admit that I was a bit unsure, when we went to building the tabernacle, about whether it was worth the grief I knew I would catch for doing it, and whether it was worth the sideways glances even from some of my close friends. But these words were repeating themselves in my mind every time I wondered: This is my body. So I went ahead with the plans.

And I must tell you, it has paid off in spades. For my parish, first (and most importantly), in countless ways. It has taught them in a way worth a thousand words what the Sacrament is, and remains. It has also shown them how very serious I am, as their pastor, about the Holy Mass. And they have learned a sacramental piety for which I am truly grateful.

And secondly, for whomever in the world of people in Lutheranism happens to take notice, it has paid off. It has smoked the ugliness of receptionism out into the open for all to see. Now, before anyone starts fuming here, I am not accusing everyone who disagrees with me here of receptionism. Far from it.

Rather, I am interested in exposing the beast. It is a hideous monster. It forces otherwise pious Christians to think console themselves with regard to spilled elements, or shoddy practices that rot like skeletons in their closets; it acquits them of years of not having had to think the unthinkable: have I desecrated the body of Christ?

And in exchange for that service, the beast gets its pound of flesh: a puny, pitiable religion that doesn't bother to think past the idea that somehow, somewhere out in space the communicant is being united with the body of Christ as he eats this little "wafer." It's enough to make John Calvin proud.

And if someone wants to label me a quatenus subscriber to the Confessions over this, all it tells me, frankly, is that the beast is alive and well. And as long as the beast lives, I will gladly confess, at every opportunity, the body of Christ.

Did you know, that's kind of how the elevation of the host developed? I'm thinking it was the eleventh century, and in France, that the practice of elevating the host began to assert itself, against one Peter the Stammerer, who began teaching a strange new doctrine, probably at Paris. Peter insisted that the host did not become the body of Christ until after all the words of institution were spoken. Against this the faithful, up in arms, began to support a new means of confession against said Peter, namely, a silent pause in the midst of the Verba immediately after the consecration of the first species, in order to elevate it for all to adore.

Not only, therefore, will I defend my decision to erect a tabernacle here; I encourage you, as you are able, to try it as well. You might be as surprised as I was at the results you get.

I'll say one thing: it has made the beast unwelcome in my parish. And that is no small victory.

Happy Birthday Ronaldus Magnus

A walk down memory lane is the perfect balm for souls sickened by this golden opportunity for a spending spree that has the White House (which had been looking forward to it for about a year) and Congress so excited.

Guess what today is? The Gipper's 98th birthday. I couldn't agree more with the caption over at Shining City: "If any day should be a holiday . . ." Amen to that, and thanks for the pic, Jen.

Still at It

The discussion on reserving the reliquae is taking some fascinating turns. Have a look.

Before the Incarnate One

The reason we built a tabernacle at St. Paul's is simple. It has always been my custom to take reserved elements to the sick. I had a place for them in the sacristy, from which I took them. Not ever having been trained in these things, I simply intuited that if the Sacrament was to be reserved, it should be designated, and proper deference should be given to it. It is, after all, the body of Christ. Hence it was only a matter of time until I figured out that the tabernacle would be the best and most salutary way to do that. Though I knew it would lead some to a state near apoplexy, I found myself actually wanting to confess that the reliquae are indeed the body and blood of Christ, and nothing less.

Closet receptionists will here grumble that nothing is a Sacrament apart from the use, but they misread the meaning of that, as I and others have written elsewhere. In short, our rebuttal is simply this: certainly one may not use the body of Christ for some reason other than that for which He gave it, but just as certainly He did not say, "Take eat, this is my body until you are done using it."

A seven-year old child can tell you what the reliquae are, notwithstanding all protestations to the contrary. Jesus said it was His body. Therefore it is.

So now I am being accused again of abusing the Sacrament, in this a recent thread of blog comments over at Historic Lectionary (not by the blog itself, which I find quite helpful, but by a commenter). I am actually being accused of innovations, of all things, among which is: "the tabernacle and the apparent custom of reverencing it apart from its use in the distribution (an issue that I think runs very close to the proscriptions of the Formula)."

See there, very close! Lions and tigers and bears! Oh my! I guess that settles it, I am to be avoided.

As an aside, a careful parsing of the complaint reveals that there is no distinction made there between reverence and adoration. For while I will reverence an empty tabernacle, just as I would an empty altar, I will always adore the body of Christ, and so you will see me genuflecting before a tabernacle being used to house the reliquae. But never mind that.

Another matter at issue here is the maddening use of the Confessions as a club. I recall having written about this somewhere too, and having retorted, Nothing is a Confession apart from the use. The Lutheran Confessions were not written to sit as the ultimate Judge and Dictator of What We Shall Believe. Listen, if you really want to argue theology with me, don't throw the Confessions at me. They are simply a rehearsal of what I believe. They don't tell me what I shall believe, so much as they tell me what I do believe, though I'll grant that the closing words of the Athanasian Creed do come close to the former.

You can't, in short, settle the question of what the reliquae are by some quotation from the Confessions. That, in my book, is what comes close to the proscriptions of the Formula. Take a look at the Formula's opening words if you don't believe me: "We believe, teach, and confess that the sole rule and standard according to which all dogmas together with [all] teachers should be estimated and judged are the prophetic and apostolic Scriptures of the Old and of the New Testament alone."

And as for you who refuse to adore the body of Christ, I could of course quote the Confessions at you, but that could make me guilty of the very offense I am outlining here. I'll just defer to a marvelous quip I remember from Dr. John Stephenson in that regard: "You'd stand before the Incarnate One?"

You've Got a Friend

There must be some synchronized kinetic energy in the air across Illinois or something. Just yesterday for some odd reason, my thoughts drifted to the old James Taylor songs I used to love. I even learned to play the guitar from his charts. And here I find that Fr. Dave Juhl also posted something about James Taylor yesterday on his blog.

His music has always been soothing, but more than that, as I was thinking, it provided some decency by which a malleable young mind, such as mine was in those days, could by intuition learn to mature. I mean, contrast his lilting nasal ballads with the kind of disgusting material upon which young minds of our day has to feed.

Take You've Got a Friend, for example. Written by Carole King, I think it also uses her voice in the background at the refrain, starting on a sweet major ninth chord, which promises,

You just call out my name,
And you know whereever I am
Ill come running
To see you again.

Winter, spring, summer, or fall
All you've got to do is call
And I'll be there,
You've got a friend.

There's something very good about defining a friend like this, whose promise is so altruistic and unassuming.

It wasn't only the music of the 1970's that was better than what plays on FM these days; it was the lyrics too.

The Best in Pastoral Counseling

This Newhart sketch is what I call fine pastoral counseling technique. Hat tip: Chaplain Jonathan Shaw.

That's What the Army Does, Ma'am

I couldn't believe my ears.

Here I'm sitting at lunch, while the background noise includes the new administration's press secretary answering reporters' questions, blathering on about the stimulus plan and whatnot. Suddenly the little guy inside my head who monitors this for me alerts me: Doofus Alert! Here comes a question from Helen Thomas, the old aunt in the attic:

"Why does the president want to send troops to Afghanistan to kill people?"

Holy cow, she really is a batty old aunt in the attic. Or a kindergartener, perhaps--no, that would be insulting to kindergarteners.

She might have found a legitimate way to ask why we must send more troops to Afghanistan, or why they need to be there, though even that would have betrayed the kind of wide-eyed naivete with which too many of our pundits are afflicted, but heavens, it's her additional clause "to kill people" that makes her ignorance so spectacularly stunning. The sun itself could not be more brilliant than this inscience.

I mean--do I need to say this?--what else are you going to send the military to do, plant daisies? I'm reminded of the old line the army likes to use to describe what it is they do: break things and kill people.

Yes, Helen, there is a military.

And while you may prefer simply and only to believe in fairies, we really do have to have some people carrying big scary guns because, Helen, there really are bad guys. See, Helen, they have big scary guns too, and they mean to use them against kindergarteners and old ladies just like you. But Helen, what you might do if that frightens you too much is just go back into the attic like a good girl, and here, take some chocolate chip cookies with you, and if you're nice, maybe we'll let you come down again for dinner.

Who keeps letting her into those press conferences?

Rev. Juhana Pohjola Receives Sabre of Boldness for 2009

On Thursday night, January 22nd, the editors of Gottesdienst again acknowledged the faith and courage of confessional Lutherans in Scandanavia, by awarding the Sabre of Boldness to Rev. Juhana Pohjola, Dean of the Luther Foundation in Finland. Two years ago, when the Finnish situation first came to the attention of the editors, the Sabre was awarded to Bishop Walter Obare of Kenya for his intervention in Finland to ordain some persecuted confessional pastors. Last night’s ceremony, the fourteenth annual, was held at the Fort Wayne Hilton, where Rev. Pohjola was in attendance to receive the award. Rev. Dr. Burnell Eckardt, the Editor-in-Chief, noted that Rev. Pohjola recently refused to allow the Bishop of Helsinki, who ordains women and persecutes confessional Lutherans, to come to his altar, and that he refused to recant in this matter when threatened by the Finnish government, for which he was exiled from the ministry and from his parish for three months.

The ceremony opened with remarks by Gottesdienst Sabre of Boldness editor Chaplain (LTC) Jonathan Shaw which focused on the value of shared hardship, a concept understood by soldiers in warfare. He introduced the entire editorial staff of Gottesdienst, and then yielded the podium to Dr. Eckardt, who gave a brief address to the attendees before listing this year’s nominees and announcing the winner.

Rev. Pohjola, upon accepting the award, offered thanks on behalf of his compatriots in Finland, and spoke briefly of a motto under which they endure: Victor quia victimi, which roughly translates, “victorious because of sacrifice,” indicating an awareness of the sacrifice of Christ for us sinners and also of the need of enduring affliction for the sake of the Gospel.

The other nominees for the Sabre of Boldness for 2009 were

• Rev. Todd Wilken of Waterloo, Illinois, for his boldness in proclaiming without compromise the cross of Christ on the radio and now internet program Issues, Etc. This he did even against the knowledge that it could cause him to lose his post at the Synod’s KFUO radio station in St. Louis, which in fact, last year, it did.

• Mr. Jeff Schwarz of Hamel, Illinois, the producer of Issues, Etc., for his boldness in bucking the threats of people in high places and keeping the show on, until they took it off the air; and he also lost his position for this stance.

• Rev. Eric Stefanski of Harrison, Arkansas, our seemingly perpetual nominee, for a lifetime of achievements with CAT41 online.

• Rev. Dustin Anderson of Marseilles, Illinois, for his faithfulness in applying the Word of God in a case requiring admonition and the need to repent, though he was physically assaulted twice for it.


Dr Eckardt’s address:

Fourscore and seven years ago—I was half expecting President Obama’s Inaugural Address to begin that way. What a cool way to start a speech. I always think of that old Far Side cartoon where you’re looking over Lincoln’s shoulder at Gettysburg, at the text of the speech, and you see scribbled there on the top of his next page: “and then the bartender said, ‘hey, that’s not a duck!” (wait for laughter) Fourscore and seven years ago . . .”

So anyway, that’s how I’m starting my speech.

Fourscore and seven years ago, many momentous things happened. 1922. The USSR was created. Mussolini became Prime Minister of Italy. The entrance to King Tut’s tomb was discovered. And, not to be missed, the Molly Pitcher Club was also formed, to promote the repeal of prohibition. The Molly Pitcher Club. You know that that was? The purpose of the Molly Pitcher Club was to achieve the repeal of prohibition. What a great club! Consider how indebted we are to them: we would not be here tonight, were it not for the efforts of the Molly Pitcher club, begun fourscore and seven years ago. We’d be somewhere else, where you could get a drink, like a speakeasy, a place where you needed a special password to get in, and everyone was on the lookout for the law. But the Molly Pitcher club was successful, and here we are, and if you’re interested, there’s a bar right over there, and nobody will arrest you for having a drink. And remember tonight to raise a glass to the winner of the Sabre of Boldness award, and the other nominees. Umm, be careful about that cigar you want with your cognac, though. The nanny state is at it again.

But more importantly: fourscore and seven years ago, on this very date, Pope Benedict XV died: January 22nd, 1922. Now, he is not our forefather, notwithstanding all the sneers about the Romanizing tendencies of us Gottesdienst folks, although it’s worth mentioning that he did promulgate the first Code of Canon Law, which was credited with reviving religious life and providing judicial clarity throughout the Roman Church. Heaven knows, we could use a bit of canon law around here. Instead we get its converse, writ large: adiaphora. The sanctuary was once a holy place; now it’s a stage. Now there’s no longer any thought of letting all mortal flesh keep silence; instead all carnal flesh wildly gyrates around a golden calf of amusement, in what they call celebrations of meaningful togetherness. I’ve always thought the very word meaningful was invented to cover a void. Void indeed: now that anything goes, and everything is adiaphora, there’s really nothing left that’s worthy of veneration or worship. And Jesus went out of the temple, going through the midst of them, and so passed by.

But even more importantly, fourscore and seven years ago, our forefathers were just getting started. Hermann Sasse had just been ordained two years earlier, and was probably already delving into his study of the Marburg Colloquy in which Luther defended the Real Presence in the Sacrament, against the Reformed, which he would publish in 1934. And Francis Pieper, who had stepped down from the presidency of the Missouri Synod, was now busily writing his Christian Dogmatics. Men like these are our forefathers, whose piety led them to make their confession against the encroachment of the Pietism and Methodism that were so much a part of the American frontier, knowing that the Gospel and the Presence of Christ among us were at stake. Call them hyper-Euro Lutherans if you want, but at least they were Lutherans!

Fourscore and seven years ago, in short, there was no drinking allowed, but the traditions of the liturgical churches were still safe, and our Lutheran forefathers were boldly defending and confessing their faith, the faith we still desire to defend and confess today. I wonder if Walther ever had bootleg whiskey, you think? I bet he did. He was no Pietist, you know.

Incidentally, it seems people are always in search of a name to call this movement begun by our forefathers: for a while we were the Synodical Conference, and then perhaps the Society of St. James, and then Confessional Lutherans, or Hyper-Euro Lutherans. It may come as no surprise to you, but I sort of like the ring of “Gottesdienst Lutherans.”

At any rate, tonight, four score and seven years later, we are, as Lincoln was, engaged in a great war. But ours is not a civil war, for we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. And in our struggle, we are pleased tonight to honor the valor of those who have been at the front and have not flinched in the line of duty. To use Lincoln’s words again, it is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. Although this award goes only to one, it bears repeating that one bears it on behalf of all the unsung. The lapel pin has two sabers: one for the bearer and the other for all the others.

We haven’t heard of your deeds, and we don’t even know your names. But we know of your Spirit. We know that it is the Spirit of Christ, the Holy Spirit, which has moved you to refuse to acquiesce when the Gospel was at stake, even at the greatest personal cost. There are thousands of you, and this award is for you all. You myriads in North Korea, in Kenya, in Sudan, in Zimbabwe, and elsewhere, whose suffering and martyrdom is itself infinitely more honorable than anything we could bestow. And even here at home, there are many of you who, while not called upon to resist to that extreme, nevertheless know that you risk and sometimes incur the loss of livelihood, of income, of home, and worst of all, of reputation. Perhaps no one will ever notice your silent suffering, and you know this, and yet you also know that you cannot do otherwise, for to act against conscience is neither safe nor right.

So we wish to do our small part and recognize, if only annually, that it is you who are waging the greatest battles among us. Our nominees are just a few whose deeds have happened to come to our attention, and we humbly ask that this be seen as giving honor also to the many whose deeds we have missed. The world may despise you, but we salute you. And of course, what’s far more important, blessed are you, when men shall revile you and persecute, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for Jesus’ sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

22 January 2009
Fort Wayne, Indiana


Sabre of Boldness Recipients:

2009 The Reverend Juhana Pohjola
2008 The Reverend Aaron Moldenhauer
2007 The Reverend Dr. Ronald Feuerhahn
2006 Bishop Walter Obare
2005 The Reverend Edward Balfour
2004 The Reverend Charles M. Henrickson
2003 The Reverend Dr. Wallace Schulz
2002 The Reverend Erich Fickel
2001 The Reverend Dr. John C. Wohlrabe
2000 The Reverend Peter M. Berg
1999 The Reverend Gary V. Gehlbach
1998 The Reverend Dr. Edwin S. Suelflow
1997 The Reverend Jonathan G. Lange
1996 The Reverend Peter C. Bender

Sabre of Boldness Thursday night AT THE HILTON

Note the new location: on Thursday night of Symposium week, January 22nd, in Fort Wayne (as usual) the editors of Gottesdienst will be announcing the recipient of the 2009 Sabre of Boldness award.

WE HAVE MOVED the location of this event from the Marriott, where it was originally set to take place, to the Hilton at the Grand Wayne Center. This should make the event easier for people at the Symposium banquet to attend. It will take place when the banquet ends, at about 8 pm, in the atrium at the Hilton.

This Is My Body

You say you believe this. You insist it is so.

But you exchange the sublime liturgy for the music of entertainment, as if the setting for these Most Holy Things doesn't matter.

You carry on as though there's nothing special here. No need to genuflect. No need for holy trepidation. No need for taking pains.

You might put on your vestments to please some folks, but not if it's too inconvenient. Not if, say, it's an informal gathering anyhow. Informal? This can be informal to you? How?

You place this in plastic. You throw the remains down the drain. You spill, and it doesn't matter. You make crumbs, and they fly, and you don't care.

You don't care.

Yet you say it's the real thing.

Well frankly, guy, I'm having a real hard time believing you.

I think you're making a confession here, and it belies what you say you believe.

Lutheranism and its Temptations in the 21st Century

Rev. David Petersen is hosting a one-day conference at Redeemer in Fort Wayne next Monday, and has asked me and Dr. Rick Stuckwisch to sit on a two-man panel to gab about the future of the LCMS in a rather informal free-for-all. Here's the scoop from his blog:

The Future of the LCMS is a terrible name. It should have been something like "Lutheranism and its Temptations in the 21st Century."

Here is the idea. In the late 1930's Winston Churchill was the lone voice raising the alarm about Hitler and the Nazi party in Germany. For the most part, the rest of the world was asleep. I am hoping to nudge Dr. Eckardt and Dr. Stuckwisch into speaking with that kind of clarity regarding the current state and future of Lutheranism. Is that a bit ambitious? Yes. But it will be a collaborative project. We aren't going to try and set an agenda for saving the synod or deciding what we should do. We're simply going to try and analyze where we are and what is coming at us next.

Along with Churchill, think of this: our immediate predecessors in American Lutheranism ushered in a Confessional revival. But most of them thought the most significant issue of the 20th century was inerrancy. Most of us now think they were wrong, not that it wasn't important, but that it was misaligned for the real threats. So also notice how a generation before them the Missouri Synod read and pledged itself to the Book of Concord but made almost no effort to restore or practice private confession and absolution or a weekly celebration of the Holy Communion. How do you read the Book of Concord and miss that? I don't know but they did. So what are we missing? Where are our blind spots?

These are the questions that will be addressed first to Dr. Eckardt and Dr. Stuckwisch. The conversation will be informal but moderated. Will we come to any conclusions? Probably not. But I hope our thinking will be stretched in the process and we will walk away with a deeper humility and better understanding of who we are and what we are up against.

That is the topic. We will also get some training late in the day regarding Gregorian chant and a chance to pray vespers from LLPB.

Here is the schedule, and yes it is free, and yes, lay people are welcome and even encouraged to come.

9:30 - Private Confession available with Petersen in Redeemer's chapel
10:30 Low Mass in the Chapel
11:00 - discussion of most significant controversy in the LCMS for the future / most significant current blindess of Confessional Lutheranism
12:30 - lunch - order in pizza, pitch in for costs
2:00 - discussion continues
3:30 - Gregorian choir practice/training with Beisel for the LLPB Vespers
4:30 - LLPB Vespers w/ Treasury Propers
5:30 - ???

St. Paul's on the Air Now Has Its Own Blog

Now that we have the audio files of our radio show (and podcast) on the web, we've parked it at its own blog, from which you can link to the audio file whenever you want, or subscribe to it, or comment, or whatever, Here's the link: http://stpaulsontheair.blogspot.com

The Palin Phenomenon

Of course they didn't publish it, but I waited all the same to see, just in case. I submitted this letter to the Wall Street Journal in late December.


To the editor, regarding Sarah Palin:

It’s about time we heard John O’Sullivan weigh in on Sarah Palin (“Conservative Snobs Are Wrong About Palin,” 12/23). As Margaret Thatcher’s confidante, he would certainly know better than any pedigreed conservatives whether Governor Palin may be compared favorably to the Iron Lady. Not only so, but one would think that a close personal friend of Ronald Reagan, such as he also was, would be well equipped to know a rising star when he sees one.

I had the opportunity to speak with Mr. O’Sullivan aboard the National Review post-election cruise in November, and was already pleased then to hear a man of his stature speak in such glowing terms of Mrs. Palin. Indeed not only I, but a day earlier the entire audience had erupted in rather wild applause when he first mentioned her name. That spontaneous reaction, one of the unmistakable high points of the cruise, in itself suggests the likelihood that the Palin phenomenon is far from over.

Rev. Burnell Eckardt
Kewanee, Illinois

+ Fr Richard John Neuhaus +

Apart from the usual thoughts Lutherans might be expected to have about the passing of as important an American theologian as Fr. Richard John Neuhaus (mostly having to do with his move from the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod to the Church of Rome), there ought to be a good deal thought, and said, about two things at least.

First, there is the fact that this man was an unflinching champion of the unborn.

Second, there is his contributions, in First Things, which he begot, and his book The Naked Public Square, toward fighting the erosion of morality and decency in our society, from a distinctly Christian perspective.

R.I.P.

Introducing St. Paul's on the Air

"This is St. Paul's On the Air: a radio program brought to you by the members of 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. We're glad to have you with us as we talk about the Gospel, our Lord Jesus Christ and the things that matter the most to us. I'm your host, the Rev. Fr. Burnell Eckardt, pastor of St. Paul's, with a small group of listeners and a couple of microphones carefully positioned to help you get into the room with us and listen along . . ."

St. Paul's on the Air is a weekly radio program which airs on our local radio station every Sunday morning, and is also podcast on Pirate Christian Radio every Wednesday morning, 25 minutes of a classroom monologue and discussion, recorded live and aired on our local radio station every Sunday morning.

And as of today, it is also available right here, right now. The first program posted is actually the one meant for this coming Sunday, January 11. Go ahead, have a listen: click here.

Two Nights from Tonight

If you've been thinking about it, but remain unsure, let this little boost help you make up your mind. A sublime evening of quality choral renditions of Christmas carols at St. Paul's in Kewanee, Sunday, January 4th, at 7 p.m., followed by wine and cheese.

And then a two day seminar on Monday and Tuesday on "The Chrisology of Moses and the Exodus." Details here.

Here's a map if you need one, and here's a list of hotels. And here's your invitation!

Music and Meditation: Retreat in Kewanee Begins Sunday

Our annual Christmas Choral Vespers is Sunday night at 7:00. Weather is supposed to be fine, so everything's on track. All we need is people to come. So make your plans today, and give yourself a treat. This has been a major cultural event for our parish as well as an uplifting edifying experience. Our neo-gothic style church enables our small and talented choir to sound as if it has more voices. This is our thirteenth annual January choral vespers.

The event is always followed with a wine and cheese reception.

The next two days (count 'em, two!) we'll be having a seminar of Theological Reflection, which includes Holy Mass on both days, the second being Epiphany Day, January 6th. The Theme for the retreat is “A Prophet Like unto Me: The Christology of the Moses and the Exodus.” We'll look at the first several chapters of the Book of Exodus in the Patristic/Medieval manner which involves seeking Christ in all the Scriptures, as the old rhyme puts it: "In the Old is concealed what the New has revealed."

Join us! Here's your map, here's your hotel, and here's your invitation!

The New Eds Chime In

Two of our new online editors have posted recently at Gottesdienst Online, one on the question of whether the Lutheran Confessions are descriptive or prescriptive, and the other on the matter of chanting the Verba, and the salutary effect this has on children. Have a look.

White Christmas!

Now that the blogosphere I frequent and to which I occasionally contribute has covered the spiritual side of Christmas, I have to say that there's something pleasing about the other side of it, too.

And since we've all been sufficiently chided for allowing too much Christmas celebrating to go on during Advent, why can't we import some of the cultural stuff into these Twelve Days of Christmas?

So, in the spirit of this exceptionally snowy year, I'd like to say that I'm particularly fond of this, ah, inspiring rendition of "White Christmas" by the Drifters, disguised here as Santa and his reindeer:

Lessons and Carols Live This Morning

Lessons and Carols live from Kings College Choir may be heard at 9 a.m. CST this morning here. It's likely to be repeated.

OK, call me an Anglophile. Especially when it's time for Christmas carols.

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.

Miracle in Kewanee

As I wrote last month, the story of Carole Sanders is nothing short of miraculous. On death's door twice, given no chance to recover from pulmonary fibrosis, within hours of breathing her last. But not only did she rally, what happened since summer time is something I haven't seen in all my years. This woman is improving steadily, has come home from the nursing home, has cut her oxygen intake in half, is now enjoying life with her husband, and at long last has seen her dream come true: she wanted to be in church again, and walk the steps to the altar on her own.

This she did yesterday.

And after mass, she took a few moments to thank the congregation for their support and prayers. Then she and her husband and I walked to the back where she greeted the people as they came out.

There was hardly a dry eye among the people.

What has happened to this woman, and therefore to this parish, has been stunning and beautiful to behold.

She might even be able to come to Oktoberfest Sunday night. Our guests will get the chance to see a woman who has been on the receiving end of a miracle.

We ought never underestimate the strength of the prayers of God's people.

The Lyrics Game Goes to Washington

"You can't always get what you want; but . . . you get what you need."

On the floor of the House this morning some congressman was making his speech by quoting Mick Jagger of the Stones.

Ah, the memories!

Maybe the US House of Representatives somehow caught wind of what went on at the LCMS Synodical Convention in Houston in the summer of '07. A few of us decided the speeches were too dry and predictable, so we secretly injected a little game into the mix. We made it our goal to slip some familiar old rock lyrics into our speeches, and if we did, we'd get a point. I think in all there were close to ten such speeches, like this one:

"Sometimes you have to parse the words carefully when you hear what people say. I mean, I could say to you that all you need is love, but I wouldn't really mean that was all you needed, literally . . ."

Or this one:

"We all want freedom from bureaucratic baggage, but really, freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose. So let's be careful about this . . ."

Or this:

"Listen, we debate these important things intensely, but let's not get the wrong impression about each other. It's not that I don't love you; I do, and that's forever. Yes, and for always. I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are. And you make it hard for me to say this, but . . ."

You get the idea. We took the business of our convention seriously, but we made it a little fun while doing so. (I remember even injecting this little poem into the mix, just for fun.) We'd like to think it kept people from taking themselves too seriously.

Maybe the congressman wants to do the same thing. When I saw it, I thought, Sweet!

Want of Humility

Whoever chooses to write on the importance of humility does so as a person in which there is by nature a want of humility. To say we are sinful by nature is to say that we are proud by nature. Everyone loves it when his ego is stroked; we generally feel uncomfortable about it when it is done publicly, because when in public most of us are aware of what people will think of us when we come off as too high and mighty. So we instinctively seek to be self-deprecating.

(For that matter, incidentally, we should. Imagine someone reacting to kudos with agreement: Yes, I am great, I agree with you.)

Yet the virtue of humility is not about being self-deprecating for appearances. Anybody can do that. True humility comes from an awareness of the reality of who we really are. Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, exhort the Apostles Peter and James. They don't mean that we should speak softly, be shy, or say demeaning things about ourselves. They mean that we should remember that we are unworthy, utterly unworthy, of any accolades of any kind; we are not God. How simple that sounds, yet how elusive it is: we are not God.

I think it's curious that it was Moses who wrote that Moses was the most humble man on earth. What on earth was he saying? That he was perfectly humble, good for him? Was this the first manifestation of what would one day be crooned in a country song, "It's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way"?

I think not. I think he was acutely aware of the truth about himself. I think it was his way of saying what St. Paul said, "I am chief of sinners." It was as if to say, "I know what my adversaries are saying about me, that I am not worthy to be in my exalted position; what they don't know is how well aware I am of this myself: they can't beat up on me nearly as much as I can beat up on myself. I didn't want this position, but God insisted."

True humility is to be sought after, especially by leaders. It is to be willing to beat up on yourself, to be unafraid of going to confession, to exult in the forgiveness of sins in awareness of how desperately you need it.