A very wise man . . .

It is unquestionably the case (he said with a wry grin) that Father Hollywood is a very wise man. The reason? Well, of course, because he thinks that I am a very wise man. He's given a great plug on his blog for my Every Day Will I Bless Thee which you can see here. And if you want a copy of my book, which was published several years ago by Concordia Catechetical Academy, you can either go there to purchase it for $21 plus 10% s&h, or by sending me an email: eckardt@kewanee.com. Thanks, Fr. Beane!

Pachelbel Rant

Thanks to Fr. Wade Seaver for sending me this video called Pachelbel Rant. If you're like me and can't stand the Pachelbel canon, you really should see this video. So true, and worth some laughs.

Amazing Pro Life Article

Every once in a while you get a good word from an unexpected place. Not that the Wall Street Journal is an unexpected place for a good pro-life article, but I found this article in it by a longtime feminist and worker in the Clinton White House. It's by one Kirsten Powers, who worked in the Clinton administration from 1993-1998, which means most of the time he was in office.

She speaks as a feminist, but from the perspective that feminism used to represent, which, as we all know, was nothing like what it is today: "Many early feminists -- the Suffragettes -- opposed abortion. They viewed it as an affront to human rights. There is little doubt that they would have recognized elective, late-term abortion for what it is, a gruesome, uncivilized and inhuman procedure."

So she can't understand why, when between 60 and 70% of Americans oppose late-term abortions, nevertheless "late-term abortions now enjoy the imprimatur of every one of the presidential candidates of one of the two main political parties."

Today's women, she laments, "have been elevated to a special status where they have the 'right' to determine whether a five-month or older 'live fetus', as the court called it, should be partially delivered outside of their body and killed in the most gruesome manner imaginable, even if carrying that fetus poses no threat to their life."

But here's her best line of all: "It needs to be said that there is no constitutional right to crush a living human's skull and suction out its brains, no matter where that life may reside -- inside the womb, or partially outside the womb, as is done in the so-called partial birth abortion. It's immoral and contrary to the values of the Democratic Party, which prides itself on standing up for the weak and voiceless."

Wow. Too bad they won't listen to one of their own. Here's more: "Rather than defending the indefensible . . . the Democratic Party should be taking the lead in eliminating a still legal form of elective late-term abortion where, as the court described it, 'The fetus is usually ripped apart as it is removed, and the doctor may take 10 to 15 passes to remove it.'

And this: "Sen. Barack Obama pointed out that late- term abortions account for less than 1% of all abortions. Sounds sort of benign, until you consider that in the last 10 years more than 10 million babies have been aborted in the United States." That would add up to 100,000 of these late-term procedures in ten years. People love to use that line, that there are so few of these gruesome abortions. I call one of them too many, and there are actually over 10,000 per year. How dreadful. Kyrie eleison!

Easter and Pentecost

There are some profound differences in the ways people understand the significance of Easter, a fact which also applies to Pentecost. Our Lutheran and historical forefathers rightly saw Easter as the celebration of Christ's fleshly resurrection. We do not merely rejoice in an empty tomb. An empty tomb could mean anything; in fact, the first to discover that the tomb was empty were horrified because they thought someone had stolen Jesus' body. It wasn't until they saw Him and became convinced that it was truly He, in the flesh, resurrected, that they were comforted and began to rejoice. Therefore you won't hear the words 'rejoicing at the empty tomb' rolling off your pastor's tongue. Rather, we rejoice with Thomas and all the Apostles who were convinced that Jesus stood bodily before them and said, "Peace be unto you."

So also at Pentecost, we do not merely rejoice in the coming of the Holy Ghost weakly defined in a nebulous or ethereal way at best, or at worst as a reason to go off speaking in tongues and claiming divine intervention. Rather, we see this too in fleshly terms. The Holy Ghost came to the eleven apostles, and immediately they began to preach Christ in several languages. Thus the coming of the Holy Ghost is the coming of the Apostolic Ministry. The Holy Ghost came to Ephesus, to Corinth, to Rome, or to Spain precisely when and in that the Holy Apostles arrived there.

In all this we see the inseparable link between Jesus and the Holy Ghost. In the Western Christian Church we confess that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son, even as we note that the breath of Christ proceeded out of His mouth when He ordained His apostles. St. John's account of their ordination reports that "He breathed on them and said unto them, 'Receive ye the Holy Ghost.'" In English, ghost (or spirit), and breath are separate words, but not in Greek. The word pneuma means both. Pneumonia is a disease of the breath, and pneumatology is the study of the Holy Spirit. Bearing this in mind while considering the passage from the Gospel, we may learn that Jesus' breath and Jesus' Spirit are in fact the same thing. The air that proceeded forth from His very human lungs is, in this case, at the same time very divine; it is Jesus' breath, His Spirit. It was by this breath that He made His disciples into apostles, literally "sent ones." This is all a mystery which therefore we cannot fully explain nor understand, but at least we can say that there is an essential linkage seen here between the Son of God and the Spirit of God.

So also therefore, there is an essential linkage between Easter and Pentecost. Easter is the celebration of the Son in His fleshly resurrected exaltation; Pentecost is the celebration of the Son's sending of the Spirit, in His fleshly ambassadors, His apostles.

Thus in the Christian Church we rejoice during Eastertide particularly over the renewal of Jesus' flesh, His body, upon which we feast; and at Pentecost we rejoice particularly over Jesus' sending of His preachers whose task it is to proclaim Him and His mercy.

A Touch of Frolic

There's a brilliant article by Fr. Patrick Henry Reardon in the most recent (April) issue of Touchstone magazine, which was so good that it inspired me to write this letter to the editors, and which I call reason enough to subscribe:

Patrick Henry Reardon’s “The Son Risen with Healing” was worth the price of the entire subscription. I only wish he had spent more ink lingering on “The Forty Days of Lingering,” his last section. As far as I’m concerned, the expressions of playful cheerfulness that Fr. Reardon calls “jocose” in Jesus’ appearances to his disciples could be the theme of an entire article. “Is there not something exceeding playful, for instance, in our Lord’s incognito appearance to Mary Magdalene . . .?” Yes, most certainly, and in the Emmaus road exchange, and in the appearance to Thomas: “a delicate touch of frolic in all this, a quiet celebration among these intimates of the Victor over sin and death.” Yes, a thousand times. And we could go on with the examples. A favorite of mine is the Lord’s appearance on the shore, in which He not only plays with them as children, but even calls them children, and lightheartedly asks if they have any meat. When He fills their net with fish, the beloved disciple gleefully informs Peter that it is He, and Peter like a cavorting child jumps into the lake to swim to Him. The other disciples are left comically dragging this enormous catch behind their boat, only to find on arrival that Jesus already has a breakfast of fish prepared for them. There is here a sense of hilarious glee in this report of overwhelmingly happy news, a perspective surely meant for all Christendom to gain and to carry into the midst of all of life’s trials and challenges.

Rev. Fr. Burnell F. Eckardt Jr.

Pastor of St. Paul’s Ev. Lutheran Church, Kewanee, Illinois and

Editor of Gottesdienst, a Journal of the Evangelical-Lutheran Liturgy

Geraldo's Gaffe at Virginia Tech

Somebody should tell Geraldo Rivera that he doesn't fit in at Fox News. He's still acting like the opportunist we always knew he was. Here he is at Virginia Tech where horror has just struck, interviewing the school's president, grilling him on why more wasn't done to prevent the massacre. What could the poor guy say? They did what they could. Then he asks the typical default, inane question about how he felt and what emotions he had when he heard the news. But the worst was when at the end of the interview tape, Jeraldo says "it's safe to say" that this is an "embattled president." Embattled? Why? And why is this a safe thing to say? And why is Geraldo evidently s already trying to create a controversy at this place where people are dumbstruck from the tragedy? The man should be canned immediately. Let Imus or somebody do his job.

The Imus Thing

Since this Imus controversy won't go away, I finally got around to reviewing his original comment about the "nappy headed hos" that got him axed.

I wonder how many people actually did that, went back and played the original video.

I don't know about you, but my first reaction was that there really isn't much there. He and a sports guy are commenting on the video of the Tennesee team beating the Rutgers team in a championship game, and it's actually the other guy who first drops the h-bomb.

Imus is a bit crass, I'll give you that; but the whole thing seems pretty goofy to me. Here's what happened.

Imus and--I think it was sports guy Sid Rosenberg--are doing voice-over while the video is on the teams playing. Imus says, "So I watched the basketball game last night between a little bit of Rutgers and Tennessee, the women's final . . ."

Rosenberg: "Yeah, Tennessee won last night, seventh championship for Pat Summit, man, they beat Rutgers by thirteen points."

Imus, reacting, says, "Some rough girls from Rutgers, man, they got tattoos and . . ."

Rosenberg: ". . . some hard core hos."

Imus: "[chuckling] . . . some nappy headed hos there, man, I'll tell you right now . . . man, that's some . . . ooh [chuckling] . . . and um, the girls from Tennessee, they all look cute, you know."

So that's it. I don't have the time to do deep research on the use of "ho" in popular jargon, but it's my guess that Imus had no intention of actually calling these girls whores. He was just commenting on the way the looked to him, with their tattoos and locks and such, in contrast to the girls from Tennessee. It was the tattoos that got his attention, not the color of their skin.

And another thing: If Imus is in so much trouble, how come the other guy isn't? He must have gone and hid under a rock somewhere, relieved to have the axe falling on the other guy's head.

This is all the product of a society looking for things to be offended about. New definitions of sin abound. This is political correctness run amok, and when it comes to racist sounding remarks, then eveyone jumps in because it's easier to make the outrage stick.

I call it hypocrisy.

It is more evidence that our society is getting more accustomed to being intolerant. This keeps up for awhile, and pretty soon it will get quite uncomfortable for anyone with a different point of view. These may well be the building blocks for a civilization which one day might begin condoning some real persecution.

Kudos for Gottesdienst Keep Coming

I recall a certain critic saying recently that he could not "in good conscience" recommmend Gottesdienst to anyone, putting it in the same category as Christian News and Jesus First, publications widely regarded as rags from the right and the left. The conversation was rich, because as it happened this critic had himself been the object of some pointed Gottes-criticism in a prior issue, which just might serve to mitigate the notion that his conscience was "good."

At any rate, another reason I found the criticism so amusing was that I routinely--yes, routinely--get mail from serious readers saying just the opposite. Here following is a sampling lifted from the correspondence we have received in the past two weeks alone, whose volume of kudos was by no means unusual.

"Your publication is wonderful! I am increasingly becoming disappointed in The Lutheran Witness, and this quarterly journal more than makes up for it. I especially enjoyed J. E. Shaw's piece, 'Strategy for Victory.' I was most pleased to see Dr. Feuerhahn had received the Sabre of Boldness award. . . ."

"This is an excellent publication."

"I appreciate and enjoy Gottesdienst . . . the Journal you publish and to which I subscribe. . . ."

"I think the latest copy of Gottesdienst is very special. Please send me 10 copies . . ."

"We are very interested in seeing that the historic liturgy is alive and well for the next generation of Lutherans, and so we ask that [this enclosed donation] be used to the glory of God as best seen fit by your organization's needs. . . . May the Lord of the Church continue to rasi up faithful pastors, congregations and organizations among us who unashamedly subscribe to Scripture and the Lutheran Confessions."

The Third Day

The Johannine resurrection account contains the visit to the tomb by the Magdalene (St. John 20), in which she supposed that Jesus was the gardener. Behold, He is the Gardener, and the Seed, in the renewed garden.

For the first garden was ruined when another woman ate of forbidden fruit; not only did she and her husband bring ruin to the whole human race; they brought ruin upon the earth itself. For the ground was cursed because of their sin, and so it has borne thorns and thistles ever since. And pain, and sorrow, and evil, and trial, and terrors, and death.

Now the earth had come out of the seas as dry ground on the third day of creation, a harbinger of a greater third day to come. For a greater third day was needed, since the earth was cursed, and all its inhabitants have ever suffered for its curse.

See, the demise of the earth is the fault of man; but not because he has been burning too many fossil fuels, or driving SUVs, or failing to be environmentally conscious. It is because of the inbred sin in every man that the earth is so twisted and ruined. And this is a fault so deep that no Kyoto Protocol or other political charlatans can correct it. Man is ruined, and cannot save himself.

But now behold the mercy of God: the Creator has come to his earth as Man, in order that He might Himself repair the ruin and renew the earth; in order that He might swallow the sin and its curse in Himself, and emerge from the grave, on the third day. Behold the fulfillment of the third day on this glad Easter! And behold the renewal of creation in the Resurrected Lord! The Seed has emerged from the earth; the Gardener has tilled His soil; the earth is restored; the curse is removed; Eden is refashioned; and by the blessed laver and water of Baptism, new shoots arise and grow in this Garden.

So the children of their Creater are glad to cry again Hallelujah! (which means "Praise God!"). So now they praise Him as they were created to do; now they sing to Him as they were redeemed to do; now they exult in Him as they have been sanctified to do. Thus now in their renewed Garden with Him, they cry aloud to Him, saying, Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Training for the Great Vigil

There seems to be a need for some training of the mind in preparation for our Easter celebrations, especially when it comes to the Great Vigil. The Great Vigil is the solemn service of Saturday night before Easter morning, in which we welcome the end of Lent and the coming of Easter.

One of the elements of the liturgical reform which has taken hold in many segments of Christendom is the recovery of the Great Vigil. For a very long time there was little or no concept of what the Great Vigil was, or what it was for. Indeed The Lutheran Hymnal itself has no propers listed for the Great Vigil. There’s only a little reference to “Holy Saturday, Easter Eve,” having only a collect and two readings, the Gospel being a reference to the burial of Jesus (St. Matthew 27). So even there, although the collect for Easter Eve contains the traditional reference to “the glory of the Lord’s resurrection” on “this most holy night,” nothing else does. There was no Great Vigil among Lutherans in the early 20^th century.

The recovery of this ancient and venerable tradition has been a key ingredient in the rediscovery of liturgical beauty and importance for Lutherans.

But still there is resistance, particularly among people who hadn’t grown up with the tradition, and for whom therefore it represented something new. Actually it’s something very old, which, like many venerable traditions, fell into disuse between the 17^th and 19^th centuries when Rationalism was on the rise. The recovery of Confessional Lutheranism has brought with it an awakening of liturgical piety, and a renewed appreciation for the Great Vigil.

The Vigil is a bit lengthier than a regular Sunday mass, but for those who are aware and appreciative of what’s going on, time does not seem to be a factor. It requires a little disciplining, a little training of the mind to grasp and appreciate the majesty of this holy night, but when that discipline is achieved, the Great Vigil begins to stand apart as an awe-inspiring ceremony.

It’s actually an accumulation of four services set end-to-end, each building on the former, until finally Easter formally arrives.

Beginning at dusk, the congregation gathers around an open fire for the Service of Light. The paschal candle is lit and a procession forms to enter the church. When the long procession finally wends its way into the church, and hand-candles are lit, the solemn Exsultet is chanted, a beautiful and melodious proclamation of Easter’s arrival. There is high ceremony here, done with purpose: we are witnessing and partaking in the celebration of the renewal of all creation in the resurrection of our Lord.

The Service of Readings follows, in which several Old Testament readings foretelling this grand event are read. The service concludes with the great canticle called the Benedicite Omnia Opera in which now the rejoicing of all creation is openly expressed. Also known as the Song of the Three Children (the three men in the fiery furnace), it speaks of the rejoicing of all creation: angels, heavens, waters, sun, moon, stars, showers, dew, winds, fire, winter, summer, dews, frost, cold, ice, snow, nights, days, light, darkness, lightning, clouds, mountains, hills, green things, wells, seas. floods, whales, all that move in the waters, fowls, beasts. cattle, and children of men. Here, as before, we observe that all creation bends toward its Creator who has renewed all things by rising from the dead.

Then follows the Service of Baptism, in which any confirmations are also held, as well as a calling to mind of Baptism for all in attendance. This follows fittingly, since it is through Baptism that we have become participants in the renewal of creation.

Finally, the Service of the Sacrament marks the point of entry into Easter. The lights come up, the celebrant is vested, the lilies seem to trumpet, and we sing the Gloria in Excelsis with gusto; the organ keeps its silence no more, and even the bells are rung. This is the Church’s finest hour: Christ is risen! And so we feast, coming to the altar to receive His Body and Blood in the Sacrament.

This crescendo of rejoicing continues at sunrise, when in the bright array of the morning sun we recall the moment in which the women at the tomb, and Jesus’ disciples, first learned of His resurrection. Easter Sunrise is more festive still than the last part of the Great Vigil. Now we are in full-throated song and music, our choir is at its very best, and our hearts sing in glad harmony with our voices.

The best way to gain the full effect of this great liturgical Feast is to witness it from Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, when the Church is at its darkest and most somber. From the deepest depths to the highest heights we go in just three days, as the liturgy of the Church mimics Christ Himself, who went through death to resurrection. So we sing a mournful tune during the Holy Three Days, but it gives way to a heady rejoicing when we celebrate that Easter has come, and with it, our victory over the grave. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Palm Sunday Vindication

The grand procession of our Lord into the city of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday is best seen according to the backdrop of the events in the life of David and Solomon. Remember those? King David was old and rather out of the loop, on his deathbed (I love how the KJV puts it, “he gat him no heat”). They gave him Abishag to keep him warm, although “he did not know her,” i.e., there was nothing untoward about this arrangement. During these last days of the king, the treacherous Adonijah decided it was time to usurp the throne, and he set the wheels in motion to make himself king, thinking he could get away with this because David would never know. Solomon was just a clueless boy, and his mother Bathsheba was powerless to stop it. So she spoke to Nathan, and the two of them decided to try to tell David, in last-ditch hopes of putting a stop to the travesty. David had promised the throne to Solomon, and that according to the word of God. So she went into his chamber and told him, and Nathan came in after, to back up her testimony. Was it too late? David, in his last great kingly act, mustered his waning strength to decree that Solomon must be crowned king at once, and all the customary preliminary steps (at which Adonijah was even now busily working) were, by this decree to be bypassed. Solomon was placed on David’s mule and sent into Jerusalem, amid cries of God save King Solomon! “And the people piped with pipes, and rejoiced with great joy, so that the earth rent with the sound of them.” The Psalm appropriate to the occasion would have been the 118^th, including this: Save now . . . Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord!” And this great noise of rejoicing was the sound of vindication, an occasion at which Adonijah, when he saw it, knew the jig was up.

The entry of our Lord Jesus Christ is a resounding acclamation that He is the Greater Solomon, and the vindication of His truth against the scribes and Pharisees. Indeed the Lucan account of it has these words: “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest,” not only reminiscent of the angelic announcement at His birth, but more importantly declaring Him the true Prince of Peace, Shalom, Solomon. And the Pharisees and their allies are as struck as had Adonijah had been. No wonder they would complain to Pilate about what he affixed to the cross, “The King of the Jews.” Those placards were supposed to tell the offense of the criminal, as a deterrent to others. Thus, to Christ’s enemies, the offense was that He said He was the king of the Jews. To say that He was the King of the Jews was to turn it all on its head, and make Him the Greater Solomon.

This was Pilate’s richest mockery: Ecce homo! You want your own king? Here he is, folks, a pitiful worm.

And yet in fact, this is faith’s greatest hour and vindication, for faith believes where it cannot see. The glory of Christ is His cross. His crown is of thorns. His death is His victory. And He is our King (is He not risen from the dead?). And so we cry hosanna (God save the King!) evermore.

Sandy Berger's Lies

The Fox News expose on the Sandy Berger coverup ought to be about as earth-shaking as the Washington Post expose on the Nixon Administration's coverup. But it won't be. Times have changed, and now that those who would be most hurt by a national scandal are in charge at the capitol building, there won't be any "outrage" commensurate with the crime, or certainly not in proportion to the "outrage" expressed by those who ranted and raved about the Scooter Libby affair. Libby is now convicted of a felony for his poor memory, over an issue that turned out to be a non-issue (he wasn't the one, it turns out, who "outed" Valerie Plame, remember?), but Berger walks, having copped a plea bargain for what he calls "mistakes." Listen, lies are not mistakes; and to call them mistakes is simply to lie some more. We are to believe that he "mistakenly" shoved top-secret documents in his pants, documents the 9-11 commission needed in order to carry on its investigation, and "mistakenly" hid them away. He "mistakenly" made repeated runs to the men's room for this purpose, and "mistakenly" carried documents outside the building and "mistakenly" hid them under a bush or trash bin or something while "mistakenly" going back to get some more. Then he "mistakenly" cut them to shreds so that no one could ever find them. And then he "mistakenly" explained to us all that this was all a mistake. And no one will ever know what was in those files. He had a motive, and he has mounds of evidence against him. That is and ought to be a felony.

What I can't figure out is why in the world the Bush Department of Justice wouldn't want to prosecute this further. They did get a promise from him that he'd take a lie detector test, even with the plea bargain, but he has yet to do it. Why don't they push? Why don't they ever push? The best way for evil men to succeed is for good men to do nothing. Didn't somebody famous once say that? Churchill or somebody?

Kudos to Fox. But the Berger King was Clinton, so Sandy has nothing to fear.

What To Do with the Annunciation This Year

Now this is an interesting thing. I put up a little post on Passiontide (below) and, next thing I know there's a huge discussion about it going on over at Fr, Petersen's blog. It seems he's pointed out that my source on the transferral of the Annunciation is Anglican and doesn't agree with the Roman system. Lots of folks have chimed: Pastor McCain has gone on his usual adiaphora rant, while Fr. Curtis has done an admirable job defending the traditional rules, their being adiaphora notwithstanding.

Anyhow, here's my own further musing on the matter, which I also posted over there:

OK, Petersen, I admit to being Anglican on this, and I'll even tell you why (though I gather you already know): it's because when I used the Anglican resource it impressed me so much that I didn't bother to check the Romanist resource. I still haven't. I'm just taking your word for it, because I'm still too lazy to look it up right now.

Actually right now I'm pretty much in agreement with Curtis's posts on this matter, but I have a bit to add.

Although this is adiaphora, it would be best if we saw this as something (among many somethings) on which we ought all come to agreement, and then all do it the same way. There is mass confusion (pun intended) when everyone just does whatever he pleases and cries adiaphora.

Now as to the matter itself: look, if you're going to be liturgical at all, then it's kind of pointless to throw liturgical directions to the wind without even giving them so much as a passing consideration, which is evidently what McCain has consented to, with his 1200 adoring adulators (I could launch into a diatribe on I Corinthians 1 here, how God has chose the things that are not, etc., but I'll resist).

For those who want to try to come to a unified approach on this, here are my reasons for opining that the Anglican system is a bit better; but I admit it isn't set in stone for me.

First, in agreement also with Rome, the integrity of the Sundays in Lent and their interrelation is a matter which ought never to be taken lightly, and goes together with the whole notion of a church year. That's why they're all First Class Sundays, and it makes perfect sense. But since the Annunciation is also First Class, it is not ignored, but transferred, so it also gets its due, all for the edification of God's people. See, you get both this way, which is in agreement with all the venerable traditions.

Second, regarding whether to transfer one day or over two weeks (this is what started this whole debate), I admit to being a bit troubled about celebrating a First Class Feast when everything's veiled, and we're supposed to be excluding all Glorias. That seems to lessen the First Class nature of it. OK, for the Glorias you can make an exception in this case, but remember that you're also making an exception in the case of the Gloria in Excelsis on Maundy Thursday, and soon, with all your exceptions, you can hardly tell the difference, especially for people who don't come every day. So the Anglican reasoning is still the most sensible to me, whatever the source.

Third, I do happen to agree that we are beset with a problem when we transfer something to a date on which few will attend. I think the LSB suggestion for "a weekday" rather than a requirement of Monday following Quasimodogeniti is helpful, but the jury's still out. We'll be observing it on Wednesday after Quasimodogeniti here, only because a healthy number of people come on Wednesdays. Maybe that's a copout, but for now it works, and it serves the purpose of setting the Annunciation before people.

Having said all that, maybe I'd be for getting together, say, for a sort of Lutheran Lambeth Conference of sorts, and deciding how we're all going to do it.

Passiontide

OK, so now your crosses and images are veiled, right? And you've left off singing all Gloria Patris, and have entered the depths of Passiontide. The Propers in The Lutheran Hymnal are wrong at this point; Lutheran Worship partly corrected the error, leaving off the Glorias for Palm Sunday, but condensing Passiontide to one week only, the same as Holy Week. I don't know offhand what Lutheran Service Book did, because they erred in omitting the Propers from the hymnal altogether.

Anyhow, here's where these customs arise, in case you were wondering.

The "hiding" of Jesus, by veiling statuary, crosses, and images, is because of the last part of the Judica Gospel (St. John 8) in which we are told that when the Jews took up stones to cast at Him, "he hid himself," and passed by. So the hiding of Jesus' image is a vivid reminder of what happens when He is not taken seriously: He withdraws. An added reason for penitence thus arises here.

The "hiding" of images of saints is due to the thought that it would be unseemly for a saint not to be hidden if the Master Himself is hidden.

The omission of the Glorias is a further indication of a liturgical descent at this time.

In addition, it is actually not traditional to observe any occasional feasts of any kind during Passiontide. Therefore the new calendars are also wrong, which transfer Annunciation to the day after the 25th. No, it goes the day after the Easter Octave, which this year is Monday, April 16th.

Gottesdienst Day!

I'm beginning to think that maybe Fr. William Weedon is a very wise man. Why, you may ask? Well naturally, because it is evident that he thinks I am a very wise man. Thanks for the kudos, Fr. Weedon! Here's what he wrote, over at Weedon's Blog . . .

Each time I think the periodical Gottesdienst couldn't get any better, Fr. Fritz pulls a fast one. There's much to be commended in the latest edition, but the top reading, in my opinion, is from Fr. Fritz himself. He has written a little opinion piece called "Lutheran Identity Crisis?" VERY worth the read. What does it say? Well, subscribe and find out! [to do so, click here!]

Oh, all right. All right. Just one teasing bit:

"This leaves the restless among us to consider flight to one of the historic episcopates. Some have been known to get a bit misty-eyed about the historic episcopates, an understandable weakness for the liturgically aware.... The temptation is palpable. A bishop comes along who actually looks and acts like a bishop, and whose churches actually look and act like churches, and it's no wonder we fumbling Lutherans look up from our sandboxes and wonder if maybe there's something we're missing over here. Well, of course there is! Our churches don't look or act like churches. That's what is missing."

Oh, so much more. And very tasty. Enjoy!

The Legend of the Gargoyle

This piece and that which follows below (the reprinting of a speech posted earlier) are offered concurrently with the mailing of the current issue of Gottesdienst (to subscribe, click here) which references both posts.

The new drop caps for Gottesdienst are a fancy design meant to complement our traditional and somewhat repristinating style. In the midst of our deliberations over what to use, one intriguing form of fonts called Celtasmigoria was briefly considered, a form in which various Gargoyles are found in positions like the letters of the alphabet (to access this and other free fonts at the web site DaFont, click here and see under Gothic > Celtic). Although we decided that would be a bit extreme and so dismissed the idea, there arose in the midst of our considerations this fascinating history of the appearance of Gargoyles on the rainspouts of medieval churches.

The word "Gargoyle" shares a common root with the word "gargle," which comes from the French gargouille, "throat." A true gargoyle is a waterspout. The word is also derived from the Latin “gurgulio” and is therefore onomatopoetic, meaning “throat” and sounding like the water which gurgles as it passes through the throat. A gargoyle makes a gurgling sound as water passes through the waterspout.

Legend has it that a fierce dragon named La Gargouille with a long neck and membranous wings lived in a cave near the river Seine. The dragon caused much fear and destruction with its fiery breath, spouting water and devouring ships and men. Each year, the residents of Rouen would placate Gargouille with an offering of a victim, usually a criminal, though it was said the dragon preferred maidens. Around 600, the village was saved by St. Romanus, who promised to deal with the dragon if the townspeople agreed to be baptized and to build a church. Romanus, armed with only a crucifix, subdued the dragon by making the sign of the cross, and then led the now docile beast back to town on a leash made from his priest's robe. La Gargouille was then burned at the stake, it is said that his head and neck were so well tempered by the heat of his fiery breath, that they would not burn. These remnants were then mounted on the town wall and became the model for gargoyles for centuries to come.

Now this is a legend, of course. No one knows for sure just what is the exact history or rationale for gargoyles. But the grain of truth in this legend is that it carries with it the Christus Victor theme. That is, a demon’s head is placed on a stake, in token of his demise. No wonder those who embellished churches saw fit to place them high on the roofs.

Dr. Eckardt's Address at the 2007 Sabre of Boldness Ceremony

The current, just-published issue of Gottesdienst (to subscribe, click here) contains an article on the January 2007 Sabre ceremony at Fort Wayne, in which Dr. Ronald Feuerhahn of St. Louis received the annual Sabre of Boldness award. The following is the text of Fr. Eckardt's address to the assembly prior to the granting of the award.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+ Burnell F. Eckardt, Jr.

Editor-in-Chief, Gottesdienst

18 January 2007

Fort Wayne, Indiana

Gottesdienst Cometh!

Beware the Ides of March!

It is the day on which the white great steed Gottesdienst is scheduled to bolt out of the barn, traverse the fields of liturgical malaise, and bring hope and joy to the poor peasants put upon by the paltry, pusillanimous picadillos of praise bands.

Oh ye bureaucratic bunglers! Beware the Ides of March!

The rest of us--well, those of us who are subscribers-- may look forward to the following (to subscribe, click here):

Our Makeover

Three Sermons

Oculi Larry L. Beane

Maundy Thursday Erik J. Rottmann

Holy Saturday Paul Gregory Alms

Liturgical Observer

Lutheran Identity Crisis?

Burnell F. Eckardt Jr.

Ha! Ha! Among the Congregants

A Guest Essay Peter M. Berg

Commentary on the War

How to Make Confession: Just Do It

David H. Petersen

Sabre of Boldness

Strategy for Victory Jonathan E. Shaw

Dr. Ronald Feuerhahn Receives Sabre

Bearers of the Sabre

When Mist Was Rising from the Land

A Poem Kathryn Ann Hill

Occurrence and Priority of Feasts

Pondering the Holy Liturgy

The Introit Burnell F. Eckardt Jr.

Gottesdienst Memorandum

Musing on the Mysteries

Shadows of the Substance

Exodus 26:1-37 Karl F. Fabrizius

Freedom of Libel

The Scooter Libby trial is over, but the spin continues. I am hoping the American public is not so blind as to see the shameless refusal of the media to acknowledge that Valerie Plame was not a spy, which means she was never outed, which also means that Scooter Libby had no motive to lie to the FBI or to anyone. Memo to the AP: Valerie Plame was not "outed" and you know it well; you know, as does everyone else involved, that she was never covert! Shouldn't the freedom of the press be mitigated somehow by refusing to the press the freedom to lie? Shouldn't the press be held to some standard of objectivity that warns it against spinning stories so as to make political enemies look bad, but which in the meantime ruin a man's reputation? Isn't that a kind of libel? I wish someone would sick a special prosecutor on them for a change; what they did to Mr. Libby is a crime.

The poor man assumed he had nothing to hide, so he went ahead and tried to remember conversations, and in the end contradicted himself. This is common, and it happens to everyone all the time, and there's nothing sinful about it, as memory is such a treacherous thing. Just don't let it happen to you in court, or you could end up with a conviction at the hands of a merciless prosecutor.

So now everyone has his hands dirty, it seems, except for Scooter Libby himself. The prosecutor certainly does, and so do both sides of the political aisle. Why the Bush Administration went forth with this monkey trial I'll never know, or at least, why they didn't call off the dogs once it was clear that it was Richard Armitage who supplied the information everyone had originally supposed came from Libby (and besides, So what? Ms. Plame was not a spy!). And when the truth about Mr. Armitage came out, the prosecution suppressed it, as it would (naturally) have affected their case. But I suppose it would have been too much for the Administration to deal with if they backed off now, which is to say, the political fallout would have been too much to bear. I thought this President was one who said he didn't care about political fallout. Just do the right thing! Meanwhile now the Democrats have jumped in anyway, and demanded more blood, wanting the scalp of the Vice President himself, whose aide Libby was. Harry Reid had the gall to say the other day that this is the first conviction of someone in the White House in over a hundred years (H'mm, somewhere in the back of my mind is the memory of some Clinton guy, but never mind). And now they're saying it doesn't matter what he lied about, he lied! (H'mm, wasn't there something in the case of that Clinton guy about the fact that lying about personal stuff didn't matter?) It's amazing to me that the jurors were not given information about the Valerie Plame situation which would make it abundantly clear that Mr. Libby had no reason to lie. He was caught by people who make it their life's business to see if they can't twist someone's tongue.

The reason this is all so very sad is that so many people seem to have forgotten about poor Scooter Libby himself. Luther says well in the Large Catechism that a man's reputation can't stand being played with. Well, this man's reputation has certainly been played with, and it is my hope that somebody fix the travesty. Mr. President, I hope you're listening to the advice the Wall Street Journal gave you yesterday: the time for a pardon is now. And an apology would be nice too.

I can say it better than God did, V.

To whom ye forgive any thing, I forgive also: for if I forgave any thing, to whom I forgave it, for your sakes forgave I it in the person of Christ. (2 Corinthians 2:10)

Here we have a beautiful and concise description of St. Paul’s exercise of the Office of the Keys. His offer of forgiveness is apostolic, which means that, as our catechism puts it so well, it is “as valid and certain in heaven also as if our dear Lord had dealt with us Himself.” But here it is even clearer than that, for St. Paul’s offer of absolution is “in the person of Christ.” What a marvelous declaration of the Office: he is bold to say that his exercise of it is not merely in the stead of Christ, but in His person (Greek: prosopon). Wow, that’s going a bit far! Imagine if such a thing were found in a new hymn or document sent to an LCMS doctrinal reviewer! It would never pass!

No wonder the Calvinists who translated the New International Version could not stomach such a bold assertion. So they had to change this just enough to make it acceptable to their sensitivities. The NIV has thus re-rendered it thus:

If you forgive anyone, I also forgive him. And what I have forgiven—if there was anything to forgive—I have forgiven in the sight of Christ for your sake.

Leave it to the Calvinists (and some pretty blind Lutherans who follow their lead) to misunderstand the Office of the Holy Ministry. By the way, all you Lutherans who like to get misty-eyed about how great the English Standard Version is, here’s how the ESV has followed suit:

Anyone whom you forgive, I also forgive. What I have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, has been for your sake in the presence of Christ.

In the presence of Christ? Oh sure, that’s what prosopon means! Not! It’s a simple Greek noun, and it doesn't mean sight or presence. It means person. Deal with it, fellas. And quit messing with the Sacred Scriptures.

(Thanks, and a tip of the hat to Rev. Chad Kendall.)