Mysterium Tremendum: The Awe-ful Weight of Sacramental Celebration

Part of the series Stewards of God's Mysteries, a series considering the theology and practice of lay sacramental authority.

- - -

Altar with Lectern in Foreground, Sacred Heart Chapel
Saint Benedict's Monastery, St. Joseph, MN

One common argument in favor of lay celebration is that a bad preacher can do far more damage than a bad celebrant. Therefore, if we allow lay persons to preach in public worship, why would we deny them the authority to celebrate the Sacraments?

There is a ring of truth to this. The Church long ago determined that Sacraments administered by scoundrels are still means of God's grace. Poor theology doesn't turn the Blood of Christ into poison, but poor theology can do great damage to the Body of Christ as expressed in the assembly of the faithful.

I deeply respect the emphasis on preaching. The pulpit should not be approached lightly. As important as sermons and homilies are, though, the Sacraments are infinitely more vital.

Let us consider more fully what we mean by ordination to Word and Sacrament. We go to seminary and take classes to learn and practice preaching. Preaching is an art upon which we can improve. We should be concerned with what is said in the Church's pulpits and exercise discretion when inviting guest and lay preachers. I'm not advocating for lowering the bar of preaching; on the contrary, I am completely convinced that we need a homiletical revival and a renewed emphasis on Scripture in our preaching. I've heard too many sermons in which well-meaning presbyters fail to consider the full implication of their words.

But we must recognize that ordained ministry is not defined by areas in which we risk doing harm. It's defined by the call of the Holy Spirit affirmed by the Church. And while we're on the topic of things in the ministry that can do great harm if done poorly: building management, pastoral care, faith formation, budgeting, and running a committee or staff meeting all carry with them the terrible truth that they can fracture the Church. We learn all of these things in seminary and "on the job." This is why we expect our clergy -- and indeed, most of our parish leadership, staff and non-staff -- to undertake some form of continuing education. Ministry involves quite a bit of risk, but that is not the threshold of ordination.

What sets the ordained presbyter apart is the Sacraments.* We cannot improve upon the Sacraments through classes or workshops. Sure, we might better be able to chant different sections, memorize specific prayers, grow more relaxed in the manual acts, and learn to think more carefully about the rubrics, but none of that makes the Sacrament itself better. Proclamation of the Gospel is the common vocation of all Christians, but presiding over the Sacraments is the specific domain of ordained pastors and bishops.

Everything else that we do -- be it preaching or pastoral care or even the budget -- flows from our authority as celebrants of the Sacraments. It is the Sacraments, those physical means of God's grace, that set us apart as the Body of Christ.

Yes, everything else we do has real-world consequences. Preaching and pastoral care and faith formation and budget work can all set a parish up to do well or ruin lives. But only the Sacraments bring God's grace to us. Only they have that sense of numinous awe, that weight of glory. It's not that these other aspects of ministry are unimportant; far from it. Rather, it's that the Sacraments are paramount.

*Again, I write this in recognition that deacons in other traditions are permitted to celebrate other Sacraments, especially Holy Baptism, and that UM deacons might even have the bishop's permission to preside at the Altar.

Stewards of God's Mysteries: On the Sacraments and Lay Celebration

Presbyter's stoles

It's a bit ironic that as the Church in the United States lives into its renewed emphasis on weekly celebration of the Eucharist, the number of ordained clergy is beginning to decline and local parishes are struggling to afford full-time pastors.

This is leading to some difficult conversations about how to fill these positions: do we change the requirements for ordination? Do we permit lay persons to celebrate the Sacraments in specific circumstances? If so, what's the mechanism for such licenses?

As it stands today, both my tradition of origin (the UMC) and the tradition in which I currently serve (the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) permit lay celebration in particular circumstances. In the UMC, lay persons may be licensed as local pastors; with the bishop's approval, they are appointed to a charge and granted the title "Reverend." In the ELCA, the bishop may approve a lay person as a "synodically authorized minister" -- who is not considered a pastor. In both traditions, the lay celebrant is limited to their parish. Unlike a fully ordained presbyter,* these lay persons may not celebrate the sacraments outside the regular duties of their ministry to that single congregation.

Over the next few weeks, I'll consider some of the arguments for and against lay celebration.

With all due respect to my family and friends who have served the Church as lay celebrants, there is a better way. It better serves the Church catholic if we ordain all of our celebrants as presbyters.

- - -
*Definitions and snarky side notes:

• Yes, I know that both the United Methodist Church and the Episcopal Church prefer to style themselves as "The". I'm not going to do that because it's stupid.
• I know that charge, parish, and congregation are not, strictly speaking, the same thing. However, for sake of ease, I'm going to use them interchangeably.
• We don't seem to agree on what to call our parish pastors: are they pastors, priests, elders? I'm going to stick with the Greek and call them presbyters -- which is especially helpful when talking to "low church" folks and when comparing presbyters to deacons and bishops, who also fulfill a pastoral function.
• Instead of "licensed local pastor" or "synodically authorized minister," I will be using the term "lay celebrant" as it gets directly the heart of the matter I want to discuss.

"Special" Eucharists: Against Novelty in the Liturgy

During the series on the paschal candle, I wrote about the difference between "special" and "unique." Something becomes special when it has meaning over and above what would normally be ascribed to a similar item, event, location, or what-have-you, whereas something is unique when it is less common. By way of example:

Woodcut of Holy Communion
Wittenberg, 16th c.

• A meal with the whole family might be more special than grabbing a burger at the drive-thru while rushing to an afternoon meeting -- even if the family meal is a nightly occurrence.
• Hopefully, rushed fast food meals eaten hastily in the car are a unique experience, happening very rarely. Presumably, that rather stressful lunch would not hold any special significance.
• A meal with the extended family is understandably special and unique -- reserved for a few holidays during the year.

Unfortunately, our culture has tended to conflate these two meanings. While I'm sure that Catholics and Orthodox Christians have made the same mistake, it seems to me to be a decidedly Protestant problem.

As weekly celebration of the Eucharist has become more common in the Episcopal Church and the ELCA following the height of liturgical renewal in the 20th century, many laity and clergy have objected that regular Communion makes the Sacrament makes it less meaningful.

Apparently doing something too often makes it "less special." 

To paraphrase the Rev. Dr. Ted Hackett, I would hate to be married to one of those people.

The Sacraments are special. This is most certainly true.

That is, the Sacraments have meaning beyond normal water, bread, and wine. They are special, though, not because of how rarely we celebrate them but because of a divine promise. Baptism is "special" because God has promised to unite us into the Body of Christ in our Lord's death and Resurrection through water and the Divine Word. The Eucharist bears meaning because Christ has promised to be present.

Paraphrasing another Candler faculty member, nothing we can do makes these Sacraments more or less meaningful. Their value is an act of divine grace; sacramental meaning is not derived from how rarely we celebrate them.

And while such resistance to the sacramental pulse of Christian worship is waning, another (equally harmful) emphasis on "specialness" is creeping in.

In many communities, there is a new push to bring in "special" elements to make "meaningful worship experiences."

A seminary might use champagne for the Eucharist on Easter.

One community might change wines in accordance with the liturgical seasons to highlight different emphases -- darker, heavier wines for Advent and Lent, a sweeter wine for Easter.

A parish might use a different, more "exotic" bread for World Communion Sunday. 

In a congregation where the bread is usually store-bought, they might have students bake a "special" bread for their first Communion.

While canon lawyers might argue over the validity and licitness of champagne or leavened breads, and I am interested -- if not entirely convinced -- by those arguments, that is not where I take issue.

Rather, I'm concerned with the attempts to make the Eucharist "more special," to bring out meaning other than the Body of Christ made present.

The Eucharist is and always will be the Church's participation in the Body of Christ, a lifting up of our hearts as we offer to God our thanks and praise. Every time we celebrate the Sacrament is a communion with the entire Church of God throughout all ages past and all ages to come. While we may speak of one Divine Service at 8:30 and another at 11:00, or one Mass on Saturday evening and another on Sunday morning, we truly celebrate only one Eucharist.

Any attempt, therefore, to highlight one eucharistic celebration over another -- to make the Sacrament on one Sunday appear different from the Sacrament on another Sunday -- is to obscure the essential unity of our worship. While the readings and prayers and paraments may change, God's means of grace remain the same.

Where is the harm? In trying to call attention to one over the others, we obscure the importance of all others. By using "special" bread, we call into question the meaning of every other Sunday when we use ordinary bread. By using "special" wine, we call into question the unity between the Sundays when we use other vintages -- or just the giant jug of Manischewitz. When we lift up one particular celebration over all others, we leading our parishioners to believe that the average Sunday is somehow lacking: that God is somehow less interested in plain bread or cheap wine.

God, of course, will show up in the Manischewitz and in the merlot, in the wafer and the fresh baked bread. Grace abounds. But we must be mindful of how our parishioners -- and we ourselves -- perceive the elements. We should do nothing to suggest the Eucharist is somehow "better" one Sunday.

If you are going to use fine wine, use it every week. Every time we gather is cause for the "good stuff."

If you are going to have your parishioners bake the bread fresh, do it every week. Every time we celebrate the Sacraments we should approach them with the joy of our first Communion.

God's Sacraments mean more than we will ever understand, are more special than we will ever know. Our task isn't to make them novel but to celebrate them with abundant joy. When we celebrate the Eucharist on the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost, we approach the same risen Lord that we celebrate during the Great Vigil of Easter.

The Light of Christ: Use of Candles at the Great Vigil, Christmas Eve, and Vespers

Part of We Sing the Glories of This Pillar of Fire, a series on the use of the paschal candle throughout the liturgical year.

- - -

Advent Wreath
sans Christ candle

There has been a certain amount of conflation between the paschal candle lit during the Great Vigil of Easter and the Christ candle lit on Christmas Eve. Presumably to emphasize symbolic continuity, many parishes have adopted the custom of using a single candle which is lit at the Easter Vigil (or perhaps at the Sunrise Service) and at the reading of the Nativity on Christmas Eve. The Christ candle, as part of the Advent wreath, is a much later tradition -- some fifteen hundred years, at least -- than its paschal counterpart. Despite the chronological chasm between the two flames, there is a certain amount of sense to one candle which connects the two greatest feasts. That same single candle serves as both the crown of the Advent wreath (though physically distinct from the wreath) and as the candle lit from the new fire of the Paschal Feast. In these parishes, that single candle is interchangeably called both the Christ candle and, less frequently, the paschal candle.

(As an aside: I wonder how many parishes, having conflated the paschal and Christ candles, firmly insist on wearing blue in Advent and violet in Lent to properly distinguish between the seasons?)

Paschal Candle
Cathedral of Saint Paul, St. Paul, MN

Compounding the conflation of the Christ and paschal candles, there is also the candle used during Vespers. Our evening liturgy begins with the Lucernarium, a service of light in which we illuminate the darkness with a tall candle while singing a hymn proclaiming that God illumines the world (the Phos Hilaron). At the Easter Vigil, we gather in darkness and illuminate the night with a tall candle while singing a hymn proclaiming that God illumines the world (the much longer Exsultet). The Catholic Encyclopedia at New Advent even suggests that there may be some ancient connection between these two acts:

Others see in this an allusion to the ceremony of the paschal candle. However, the Lucernarium may have had, at that time, some analogy with the ceremony of Holy Saturday, and the hymn could thus be adapted to one or the other. In the "Old Gallican Sacramentary" (Thomasi, "Opera", VI, 395) we find for Holy Saturday an oratio ad duodecima, designed to celebrate the light as well as the Resurrection, which would seem thus to favour our hypothesis. St. Basil also speaks of a hymn being sung at the moment when the torches were lighted, doubtless the famous hymn--"Lumen hilare" (cf. Cabrol, l. c., 47-8). [Caveat: I am well aware that New Advent is outdated, and I don't know the current state of research on connections between the Vigil and Lucernarium.]

Add to these similarities that the Altar Guild and Sacristy Handbook tells Lutherans, "[The candle used at Vespers] should be almost as large as the paschal candle," and only offers the distinction that it should be white and unadorned and only offering the distinction that this plain candle is "a more general reminder of the light of Christ."

It's a recipe for confusion. We have three large candles which play significant roles in evening liturgies, and their basic meanings overlap: whatever extra nuances exist, all three of these lights indicate to the assembly that Christ is the light of the world. Even in terms of ritual action, all three of these candles are used to distribute light from a central source to smaller tapers. It's immediately apparent that these three candles are similar, but how are they different?

Our liturgical texts do us a disservice by not fully exploring the idiosyncrasies of liturgical symbolism. They state that the candles are not interchangeable but fail to adequately explain why -- or worse, leave the issue after simply stating a firm rule. As a reader and a liturgist, I leave Stauffer's Altar Guild book wondering why the candle used during Vespers is not a reminder of Resurrection. I've spent a lot of time thinking through these issues and have come to my own conclusions. But how many of our altar guild members, acolytes, and folks in the pews are left wondering why sometimes we have extra candles? We owe it to our parishioners to have these discussions out in the open, to discuss them at workshops for our acolytes, when meeting with the altar guild to talk over Easter arrangements, to point out these holy objects in our preaching.

We Sing the Glories of This Pillar of Fire: Use of the Paschal Candle, Revisited

Exultet during the Vigil
Gloria Dei Lutheran, St. Paul, MN

Last year, I wrote a few pieces on the paschal candle and its use throughout the liturgical year. As is often the case, I've continued to argue with myself about what I wrote and how I said it. As is so often the case, though, in putting my words to paper (or the screen), the project has quickly spiraled beyond what a single post can bear.

At the start, I should say I still think the paschal candle should be lit on All Saints' and All Souls' for the same reason we light the candle at funerals: the burning paschal candle re-affirms our faith that all the Baptized will see the Resurrection of the Body. I know I'm coming at this from a decidedly Protestant perspective and that I'm thinking of All Saints' more as an annual funeral rather than a feast for a given saint. (After all, we don't light the paschal candle on the Feast of Saint Andrew, so why should we on All Saints'?) But All Saints' has morphed, at least among many Lutherans and Methodists, to a more generalized remembrance for the Faithful Departed, and as such, use of the paschal candle is fitting.

Putting that aside, what are the issues at work in our use of the paschal candle? How did we develop such a divide (at times, deep and bitter) in our use of the paschal candle? What do the different positions intend to say? What does the paschal candle mean, and how does it function?

Posts in this Series:
1) The Light of Christ: Use of Candles at the Great Vigil, Christmas Eve, and Vespers -- On the conflation of various candles used within the liturgy
2) Let Your Light So Shine Before Others: Placement of Font and Paschal Candle as Sources of Controversy -- Discussing the placement of baptismal fonts and the emphasis such a location puts on the paschal candle
3) Burning to the Honor of Your Name: Paschal Candles and Sanctuary Lamps -- Have we developed two candles competing to signify Christ's presence?
4) Fed By the Melting Wax: Wax and Oil Candles as Sources of Tension -- How do practical decisions about the construction of candles subtly influence our decision to light the paschal candle?
5) Mingled with the Lights of Heaven: Consistent Use of Lights in the Liturgy -- Whatever you decide, be consistent.
6) In the Clarity of this Bright and Holy Light The Paschal Candle as a Resurrection Sign -- On the unique meaning and function of the paschal candle, and how that meaning is hindered when the paschal candle is lit outside of the Fifty Days

Wake-Up Call: Our Theological Problem

On Monday, I wrote about the failure of the mainline denominations in standing up against the evils of racism, xenophobia, misogyny, and greed that put Donald Trump on the ballot and will put him in the White House come January.

Philadelphia seminarian Lenny Duncan takes the ELCA to task for our failures. In taking a magnifying glass to the electoral map, he points out:

I’m not surprised because as a Black man I have lived in Donald Trump’s America since I was a child. I have been preparing for Tuesday since I taught myself to read.
A mantra I often use in regards to my work with the #decolonizelutheranism movement is that “the problem is not sociological, it is theological.” I stand by that now.
Here is your wake-up call.
The area’s that won this demagogue the day were overwhelmingly ELCA Lutheran strongholds. The path to 270 and beyond marched right through the heart of the Augsburg Confessions and wore the red cover of an ELW as it marched up to the voting booth. Don’t believe me? Take a look at the crumbled “blue firewall.”

But Christ is ever at work in the world. God's Kingdom is continuing to erupt into the cosmos, despite the Church's repeated failures. This beloved seminarian points out that the Church does its best work when we're on the margins of society:

The hope. Where is the hope for us than?
The church has always flourished when it was counter cultural. When it was in resistance to the empire.
The hope is that you are seeing America clearly for the first time in a long time. The hope is that same brown man who was executed stood up three days later and shifted the entire universe.
The hope is you were anointed, called to a time such as this. Republics have fallen. Kings pass away.
Empires crumble. The church has stood throughout it all. The first step is we need to challenge what it means to be a Christian and a Christian leader. The next is we organize, we resist. Lastly we need each other so desperately right now. People gather in community because when we gather in the name of God something deep down inside each and every one of us gets fixed. Set right and renewed. 

Read his full article here.

Confiteor: Our Lack of Prophetic Imagination

It didn't take long for the "Not My President" signs to change hands again, but in the wake of President-elect's racist and violent campaign rhetoric, these signs take on a new significance.

There's only one problem with them: He is our president-elect. He was nominated in accordance with the rules of the Republican Party and elected under the laws of our nation. We should have and could have stopped him from taking office. We had our chance. It's gone now.

We have all failed.

A lot of ink has already been spilled discussing the roll of the Religious Right in President-elect Trump's ascendancy. Articles proclaimed Trump's campaign as the dying gasp of the old Reagan-era marriage between Fundamentalists and the GOP. The second generation of the "Moral Majority" revealed that they don't actually care about sexual ethics, race, or even free trade; instead, they crave proximity to power. Ralph Reed demonstrated the limits of "faith and freedom" -- which apparently only extends to white fundamentalists. Cowards like Wayne Grudem sold out their faith in the name of the Supreme Court and a false equivalency that makes Planned Parenthood more terrifying than a ban on Muslims. After years of yelling about the importance of sexual ethics, Albert Mohler remained mostly mum -- though he paid lip service by linking Donald Trump and Bill Clinton. Only Russell Moore stood firm in opposing the GOP's candidate.

There is no need to rehash those articles -- though it might prove to be cathartic.

Instead, I'm interested in the Mainline. Nobody writes about us much. And why should they? From a numerical perspective, we're in decline. We're not nearly as vocal about our politics. We are not often bold.

But the election was our failing, too.

Donald Trump was not elected by Southern Baptists, the PCA, and the Missouri Synod alone.
He was elected by members of the ELCA, CBF, and PC(USA). He was elected by United Methodists and Episcopalians.

I know for a fact that many in our pews cast their ballots for the president-elect.
The xenophobia and Islamophobia of the campaign are alive and well in our pews.
The sexism of the campaign thrives, even among our call committees.
Blind eyes were turned in the interest of some ill-defined sense of "greatness."

This is our fault, our fault, our own most grievous fault.
We have sinned, in word, thought, and deed. By what we have done and failed to do.

We have failed to preach prophetically about the horrors of racial discrimination and sexism.
We have failed to welcome in the resident alien.
We have failed to confess our own greed.
We have failed to call the world to repentance and newness of life.
We have talked about "the messiness of our world" rather than sin and evil.
We have given in to the world's definition of greatness as a numbers game.
We have ceded our authority, preaching about "emotional vulnerability" rather than Christ crucified and resurrected.
We have valued programs over ministry.
We have been aphoristic rather than apostolic.

We have failed because we have preached Brene Brown rather than the Triune God.
We have failed because we lack the prophetic imagination to see the Church as the Body of Christ at work in the world.
We have failed because we have not been an in-breaking of the Kingdom of God.
At the end of the day, we have failed because the Holy Spirit was moving among us, inspiring us to preach a radical Gospel, and we ignored Her.

Kyrie eleison.
Christie eleison.
Kyrie eleison.

Now, go in peace. Serve the Lord.

"Always Refer to Your Baptism" -- Il Papa on Making Eucharist Together

In recent weeks, representatives from the ELCA and the US Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) put forward a bold declaration of points where we have come to agree on the Church, ministry, and the Eucharist. (For a more detailed summary of the process, consult the Catholic News Service article.) They recognize the differences that divide us -- women in ministry, full acceptance of LGBT persons, married priests and bishops, explanations of how Christ is present in the Bread and Wine -- but these differences are not what makes this document unique. Rather, it is the declaration that Catholics and Lutherans should be able to (occasionally) commune together.

The document, called "Declaration on the Way," is well worth the read and has made quite a splash within ecclesial circles -- along the same lines of the "Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification," the groundbreaking work released in 1999. "Declaration on the Way" still has a long way to go. While the ELCA bishops have approved it, their decision is not binding. Rather, it will go before our Churchwide Assembly in 2016. From there, it will go to the Lutheran World Federation, the worldwide communion of independent Lutheran denominations. Likewise, same document will go before the entire USCCB for a vote on whether or not to send the proposal to Rome, where it would be considered by the Vatican's group on ecumenical relations. It's a long way to go, to be sure. The schism between Augsburg and Rome is not yet healed.

The en via, though, recognizes a central fact about the Eucharist: While it is a sign of ecclesial unity, it is also the means by which we are gracefully united into the Body of Christ. The Eucharist upholds our baptismal unity.

And Pope Francis has taken up this issue himself in recent weeks. He attended Vespers at the Lutheran parish in Rome, and in doing so, encouraged Lutherans and Catholics to forgive each other for the horrible persecutions they have perpetrated against each other and to work together. In and of itself, this is a marked shift from the pre-Vatican II church, but not unexpected from this Pope, who has met with the female presiding bishop of the ELCA and has worshiped alongside the Archbishop of Canterbury.

And then a woman asked a question. She and her husband are in a mixed Lutheran/Catholic marriage, and she wanted to know if she would ever be allowed to share the Eucharist with her full family. The Pope's response is worth quoting at length, as found at Whispers in the Loggia:

I think of how the Lord told us when he gave us this mandatumto “do this in memory of me,” and when we share the Lord’s Supper, we recall and we imitate the same as the Lord. And there will be the Lord’s Supper in the final banquet in the new Jerusalem – it’ll be there! But that will be the last one… in the meantime, I ask myself and don’t know how to respond – what you’re asking me, I ask myself the question. To share the Lord’s banquet: is it the goal of the path or is it the viaticum [etym. “to accompany you on the journey”] for walking together? I leave that question to the theologians and those who understand.

It’s true that in a certain sense, to share means that there aren’t differences between us, that we have the same doctrine – underscoring that word, a difficult word to understand. But I ask myself: but don’t we have the same Baptism? If we have the same Baptism, shouldn’t we be walking together? And you’re a witness of a likewise profound journey, a journey of marriage: itself a journey of family and human love and of a shared faith, no? We have the same Baptism.

...
I can only respond to your question with a question: what can I do with my husband that the Lord’s Supper might accompany me on my path? It’s a problem that each must answer [for themselves], but a pastor-friend once told me that “We believe that the Lord is present there, he is present” – you believe that the Lord is present. And what's the difference? There are explanations, interpretations, but life is bigger than explanations and interpretations. Always refer back to your baptism – one faith, one baptism, one Lord: this Paul tells us; and then consequences come later.

I would never dare to give permission to do this, because it’s not my own competence. One baptism, one Lord, one faith. Talk to the Lord and then go forward. [Pauses] And I wouldn't dare – I don’t dare say anything more.

Video of his response from the Catholic News Service:

The Pope's response reminds me of the ELCA's presiding bishop when I had the chance to ask her about our relationship with Rome this summer:

That is a scandal....The Reformation needed to happen, but we should not celebrate when the Church is fractured....With Christ, all things are possible....I'm not going to put a date on it, but it is our Lord's will.

A time is coming at this, the end of the age, when we will gather together and join the unending hosts of heaven in celebrating our Lord's presence among us.

Thanks be to God.

- - -

Post-Script: As an aside, Il Papa addressed the gathering of the Catholic Church in Italy with the following words and a hat-tip to the Lutheran tradition:

"The reform of the church then, and the church is semper reformanda ... does not end in the umpteenth plan to change structures," he continued. "It means instead grafting yourself to and rooting yourself in Christ, leaving yourself to be guided by the Spirit -- so that all will be possible with genius and creativity."

Towards a Catholic Roman Church

I often tell people that I'm on the catholic side of the Lutheran tradition -- looking from Augsburg to Rome, or perhaps swimming in the Tiber.

I'm also asked why I'm a Lutheran instead of a Roman Catholic, given my passionately high view of the Sacraments and liturgy, my lofty ecclesiology, favor for Tradition in addition to Scripture, etc.

The easy answer to that question is that I'm married but still feel called to ordained ministry. Because those are (almost) mutually exclusive* options for Roman Catholics, I decided to keep my affiliation north of the Alps.

There are, though, other issues I care about which prevent me from crossing the Tiber: admitting all baptized Christians to the Altar, ordination of women, and treatment of LGBT Christians.

As much as I respect the current Bishop of Rome, and as much as I long to see the Protestant and Catholic traditions reconciled, I also recognize that these issues will continue to divide us.

There has been movement towards reconciliation, and we should celebrate that movement. The ELCA Presiding Bishop has met with Pope Francis at the Vatican, and she is committed to interdenominational dialog. (Of course, her husband is a priest in the Episcopal Church, so dinner with the family is an ecumenical event in her household.) Along with the "Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification" and "From Conflict to Communion," these are hopeful signs.

As Il Papa prepared to arrive in Cuba and the US, a retired bishop in California stirred the waters by calling for women's ordination and an end to clerical celibacy. He asks not just for a papal declaration but fore a new council, a Vatican III. (For a more detailed explanation, check out the Jesuit magazine, America's article on the topic.)

With Bishop Quinn's op ed, NPR thought it a good time to remind their audience that some parts of the Catholic Church have already started ordaining women -- but that they have also been met with excommunication. Outside of the "independent" Catholic communities (an oxymoron if ever there was one, valid though their goals may be), the Old Catholic tradition -- those who broke off after Vatican I -- do allow married and women clergy, and they have gone through the same growing pains as the ELCA, PC(USA), and Episcopal Church over the issue of LGBT inclusion. (Unfortunately, they lack a strong presence in the US.)

What's it going to take? When can we hope for a truly catholic Church? Will Augsburg, Rome, and Canterbury ever reunite? (To say nothing of Geneva and the East.) Not until we are willing to recognize each other's clergy. If I may be so bold, the stumbling block on this issue is in Rome.

As much as I long for a full reconciliation between the divided Western Church, I must admit I do not see it happening in my lifetime.

There is one sign, though, of things to come for which I truly hope, one indicator that we are moving in the right direction, towards unity, which will precede all others, and may occur before I die.

Before any other move towards unity, we must -- and will -- come together around the Eucharist which will be open to all baptized Christians.

- - -

*Priests in certain Eastern Catholic rites may be married. So may Anglican priests who become Catholic under provisions set up by St. John Paul II and Benedict XVI. These priests are fully in communion with the Bishop of Rome.

To Be a Peacemaker is to Be Evangelical

Part II in a series of posts on the Wild Goose Festival

Written in advance of the festival in reflection on the theme, "Blessed are the Peacemakers." Originally posted here.

- - -

"What's the ELCA?"

It's a question every Lutheran will be asked at some point, at least outside of Minnesota. The Lutheran tradition is, after all, best analogized with a spilled can of alphabet soup. And for those of us who grew up in different traditions, we all sort of wince when we say, "The EVANGELICAL Lutheran Church in America."

Evangelical: it's a weighted term and yet it hangs in the air. It carries with it four decades of right-wing politics and quasi-religious rhetoric which taught the US that God is a Republican who uses hurricanes to punish cities and tells presidential candidates to run for office. It conjures pictures of street preachers confidently assuring angry crowds that...well, almost everyone is going to hell. In the popular imagination, evangelicals are door-to-door Jesus salesmen.

But I'm not selling a brand-name faith with an eternal warranty. So when I explain what the ELCA is, I hesitate. Why oh why couldn't we have picked a less loaded name?

I could give some long explanation about Lutheran history and denominational mergers or a passionate defense of Luther's original use of the term, both of which explain why we ended up as the ELCA, but there is more to the story. It's about our identity as Christians. We are, after all, an apostolic Church, sent out to proclaim the euangelium, or Gospel (and the root word for evangelism).

We tend to think of evangelism as spreading the right knowledge of how a person gets to Heaven, as though we are teaching a secret password to an exclusive club. Knock on a door, share the Good News, and leave knowing that you've won another soul for Jesus. One more person out of Hell.

But what if we thought of evangelism as inviting people into right relationship with God and, through God, with our sisters and brothers, our neighbors and our enemies? What if evangelism took longer than the few seconds required to hand out a tract? What if we viewed evangelism as accompanying people on their pilgrimage towards God? And what if the Gospel we proclaimed had implications on Earth as well as in Heaven?

The early Church understood evangelism as accompaniment. New Christians were sponsored through a long initiation process which led to the Font and to the Table. They were accompanied through poverty. They were accompanied through prison and martyrdom. This tradition survives, in text if not in practice, through the baptismal liturgies which ask for the entire assembled Body at worship to affirm, on behalf of the entire Church catholic, that they will "support [the newly baptized] and pray for them in their new life in Christ" (Evangelical Lutheran Worship liturgy for Holy Baptism).

It's not a simple promise. It requires that we give of ourselves, to offer love unconditionally and forgiveness abundantly. It requires that we feed the hungry, visit the sick and the imprisoned, clothe the naked, and much, much more. It requires that we weep with those who weep and laugh with those who laugh. That we sow peace where there is anger and violence.

It's a way of understanding evangelism which builds peace by proclaiming the Gospel of Christ's Resurrection and acting out of God's abundant love.

To be evangelical is to be a peacemaker. The one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church is sent out to proclaim the peace of God's Kingdom. May we be blessed in doing so.

Forty Answers for Forty Questions

I, for some, inexplicable reason, end up reading a lot of stuff from The Gospel Coalition -- more than I would care to read, anyway. Recently, the up-and-coming "young, restless, and Reformed" pastor Kevin DeYoung posed forty questions for Christians in support of gay marriage in the wake of the SCOTUS ruling on Obergefell vs. Hodges.

When reading through the original forty questions, I couldn't tell if DeYoung was being antagonistic (as though these questions don't have answers), snarky (as though anyone who gave serious thought to these questions would surely agree with him), or genuinely curious (as though I should give him the benefit of the doubt...which I suppose I should...). I, for one, am frustrated that so many on the fundamentalist side of the Church assume that their brothers and sisters have not devoted serious and intense theological thought to this issue.

I came across DeYoung's post when a friend shared Ben Irwin's forty answers. As soon as I read the first question in the original post, I thought: I have to provide my own answers. Not because I'm somehow convinced that DeYoung will ever see my blog. Not because I think I can change anyone's mind.

Instead, I offer my answers for the same reason I suspect Irwin did: the Church really doesn't like having these conversations, but we must. There is a deep divide in the Body of Christ, and to heal it, we must first give careful, detailed, charitable, and orthodox voice to every side of the debate. And so, as much as I want to think that DeYoung is being cocky, I'm going to take him at his word. I'm going to respond to these questions as though they are an invitation to dialog rather than an antagonistic shot across the bow.

- - -

Kevin DeYoung: 1. How long have you believed that gay marriage is something to be celebrated?

Answer: I first started to re-asses my stance on same-sex relationships and marriage towards the end of college and came to my current position during seminary. I grew up on and around military bases during the days of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," and so if I knew any LGBT persons growing up, I did not know it. (In high school, there were a few students who identified as LGBT, but I largely ignored the legitimacy of their self-identification. To them, I offer my sincere apology.) During the last year of undergrad, I volunteered at a parish with very open and affirming clergy; they paved the way for me to consider that a Christian could faithfully love and affirm LGBT persons and relationships. At Candler and LTSS, I met a large number of LGBT students sincere in their desire to serve the Triune God and the Church. Many of these students are much better Christians than I will ever be; they understand and live out Christ's concern for those on the margins and for the oppressed in a way that I can only pray to one day experience. Dr. Luke Timothy Johnson also played a major role in my shift, and I commend his writings on the issue. I was pushed to consider the full extent of the Church.

All told, it has been a seven year shift, and I've held my current position for about five years.

2. What Bible verses led you to change your mind?

Here, DeYoung and I part ways. As someone who grew up within the UMC, I carry with me a respect for the Wesleyan Quadrilateral. Like Luther and the Evangelische Reformers, I hold to a view of Scripture as primum verum rather than the sole authority. Therefore, I am open to the role of Reason (as guided by the Holy Spirit) and Experience (mediated through Scripture, Tradition, and Reason) in opening up the mysteries of faith.

To that end, no single passage from the Bible has led me to change my mind. It should be noted, however, that close readings of Sacred Scripture in full historical context are open to interpretation in a way that DeYoung denies. (Irwin's response offers a descent summary of these interpretations.) I might also note that a literal reading of Scripture does not forbid polygamy except for clergy.

3. How would you make a positive case from Scripture that sexual activity between two persons of the same sex is a blessing to be celebrated?

Using the same pericopes used to affirm all sexual activity within the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony. Specifically, I look to readings from Genesis 2, the Song of Songs, Jesus at the wedding in Cana, and the metaphorical language of the Church as the bride of Christ as affirmations of right human sexuality.

4. What verses would you use to show that a marriage between two persons of the same sex can adequately depict Christ and the church?

The same ones DeYoung points to and for the same reasons: the marriage metaphor is not primarily about the physical act of intercourse. Instead, it is about a mutually self-giving love.

I would further point out that heterosexual marriage cannot adequately depict the relationship between Christ and the Church. Humans can only love imperfectly, whereas Christ loves perfectly. If we could love like Christ loves, we wouldn't need Christ.

5. Do you think Jesus would have been okay with homosexual behavior between consenting adults in a committed relationship?

First, why are we discussing Jesus in the past tense? We worship a risen Lord.

If we are, for some reason, distinguishing between the historical Jesus of Nazareth and the Risen Christ, then it is highly unlikely that the Jesus of the first century ever considered same-sex relationships which were consensual and monogamous. Such relationships were rare (though, unlike many of today's thinkers, I am unwilling to say that they did not exist). However, I am generally unwilling to make a distinction between the historical Jesus and the Risen Christ, and I hope that DeYoung would agree with me on that point.

I believe that Jesus celebrates with the Church anytime two people enter into a loving and committed marriage.

6. If so, why did he reassert the Genesis definition of marriage as being one man and one woman?

Christ does not reassert "the Genesis definition of marriage" (and I note that the Genesis definition of marriage is polygamous) but quotes it as the establishment of marriage as a social reality and affirming the permanence of marriage. When he quotes Genesis 2 in the tenth chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, he is not saying, "Only men and women can get married." Instead, he's saying, "People get married. These married people become flesh. They are united in God, and should remain united."

7. When Jesus spoke against porneia what sins do you think he was forbidding?

If I had to use a single word to translate porneia, I would render it "promiscuity." I'm not a Greek scholar, though.

If I had to fill out that translation, I might define it this way: "seeking sexual fulfillment with another person outside the confines of a consensual, healthy, honest, and loving relationship; extending the physical nature of a relationship beyond the emotional, mental, and spiritual commitments within said relationship."

8. If some homosexual behavior is acceptable, how do you understand the sinful “exchange” Paul highlights in Romans 1?

The "traditional" reading of Romans 1 always assumes that the relationships among women and men are "shameful" because they are homosexual. What if it's because the sexual relationships were not monogamous, consensual, or loving? From what we know about same-sex relationships in the first century world, they were almost entirely based around prostitution and an abuse of power dynamics.

9. Do you believe that passages like 1 Corinthians 6:9 and Revelation 21:8 teach that sexual immorality can keep you out of heaven?

No. Not unless the "liars" are kept out of Heaven as well. And if the liars are kept out, what hope is there for any of us?

10. What sexual sins do you think they were referring to?

DeYoung repeatedly asks for a list of sexual sins. I'm going to stick with my definition of porneia from Q7.

11. As you think about the long history of the church and the near universal disapproval of same-sex sexual activity, what do you think you understand about the Bible that Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, and Luther failed to grasp?

The fruits of biblical criticism over the centuries are incalculable, and modern theologians have built upon the work begun by Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, and yes, even Calvin. We must never assume that our forebears had a perfect understanding of Scripture or of God. They were, after all, human.

Moreover, while I hesitate to say that I better understand Scripture better than Aquinas, I might be so bold as to claim that twenty-first century Christians have a better understanding of same-sex relationships than Christians from centuries past.

12. What arguments would you use to explain to Christians in Africa, Asia, and South America that their understanding of homosexuality is biblically incorrect and your new understanding of homosexuality is not culturally conditioned?

There was a time when European and North American Christians had to convince Christians in Africa that polygamy was unacceptable and "biblically incorrect." I wonder what arguments they used, given that polygamy was practiced among certain African civilizations and within Israelite culture.

Larger issues of sexuality and monogamy aside, I fail to see why different arguments are needed for the Global South than among fundamentalists down the street.

13. Do you think Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama were motivated by personal animus and bigotry when they, for almost all of their lives, defined marriage as a covenant relationship between one man and one woman?

No. Instead, I would suggest that people who oppose same-sex marriage act out of a number of fears and misunderstandings, often sown by Church leaders, which results in biased actions. The bigotry and animus comes from ecclesial and political leaders who fear losing their power and privilege within a changing society.

As to the political aspect, we can only ever speculate about motivations when politicians change and clarify positions. Politicians may publicly deny support for same-sex marriage out of political greed and a thirst for power; they may support same-sex marriage for the same reasons. I care about their motivations, but I do not pretend to know them.

14. Do you think children do best with a mother and a father?

I think children do best with loving parents, regardless of sexual orientation or identity, and a loving community to raise them.

15. If not, what research would you point to in support of that conclusion?

Numerous studies have demonstrated that children of same-sex couples are not any worse off than children from heterosexual couples. What we should be concerned about is that we provide every child the resources needed to thrive; we should care more that a child has three meals a day than that they have two mothers.

16. If yes, does the church or the state have any role to play in promoting or privileging the arrangement that puts children with a mom and a dad?

The Church and the state both have a role to play in providing children with parents or guardians who can provide a safe environment to learn, grow, and thrive.

17. Does the end and purpose of marriage point to something more than an adult’s emotional and sexual fulfillment?

Yes, and we as the Church should also note that it is possible for persons to find fulfillment outside of marriage as well. The Church used to affirm those called to celibacy, and we have unfortunately lost that affirmation (and, more unfortunately, we have also at times forced that call upon the LGBT community).

18. How would you define marriage?

I distinguish between civil and religious marriage. Civil marriage is defined by the state and is marked by certain obligations under the law. Religious marriage, as defined by the Church, is a sacramental union between two consenting adults, pledged in front of and affirmed by both God and the Church, to offer mutual love, support, and care, and, when it is God's will, to raise children. (Note well that same-sex and infertile couples can still raise children.) In this sacrament, the couple practices kentoic love.

19. Do you think close family members should be allowed to get married?

No. Support for same-sex marriage is not the same thing as supporting a pan-sexual free-for-all.

20. Should marriage be limited to only two people?

Legally, yes. Within the Christian tradition, yes.

21. On what basis, if any, would you prevent consenting adults of any relation and of any number from getting married?

Any relation: easy. In-breeding and abuse of familial power.

Any number: legally, to promote the civil benefits of marriage (one designated "next-of-kin" to serve as medical proxy and inheritor of the estate -- with my apologies to lawyers who are probably shuddering at my inaccurate terminology).

Religiously, the Christian Tradition has interpreted marriage as between two people. Within the New Testament canon, monogamy was only ordained for elders and deacons (which, the Tradition has understood as clergy, up until the Reformation). The Tradition later expanded monogamy.

22. Should there be an age requirement in this country for obtaining a marriage license?

Yes, and 18 seems as good a place as any in as far as the US and many other nations have identified it as the "age of majority." I'm not sure why this is an issue, though. Again, support for same-sex marriage is not equivalent with support for any of the "parade of horribles" imagined by certain Supreme Court justices.

23. Does equality entail that anyone wanting to be married should be able to have any meaningful relationship defined as marriage? - and -
24. If not, why not?

This question is poorly conceived, and the answer is "Yes, but also no." For one thing, meaningful relationships are not the same as marriages. I have many meaningful relationships with friends and family as well as with my wife. But my spouse is in a fundamentally different category from my friends and family. I interact with each of those groups differently.

On the no side, there are certain family relationships which already include many of the same benefits of legal marriage. Legally, marriage is about certain tax and medical benefits (along with a long list of things about wills and estates that I don't fully understand) -- a unity within a given household, if you will. Those protections already extend to other legal dependents through different legal means (birth or adoption for children until they reach adulthood).

As for friendship, on the yes side, the state does not check to see if two people of the opposite sex are "in love" before issuing a marriage license. Legally, there is no restriction to prevent a woman (let's call her "Sally") from marrying a man ("Jim") just because Sally and Jim want to share in the copious benefits of being legally marriage.

If, though, DeYoung means something other than a consenting adult human, he is simply traveling further down his slippery slope argument. Marriage requires two humans legally capable of consenting to marriage. By its definition, it excludes animals.

25. Should your brothers and sisters in Christ who disagree with homosexual practice be allowed to exercise their religious beliefs without fear of punishment, retribution, or coercion?

Again, it depends. Nobody is suggesting that a pastor ever be forced to perform a same-sex marriage, even if that person is a chaplain in the employ of the state. If, on the other hand, that person is a judge or clerk, they must be willing to serve all citizens equally. Likewise, I can understand a photographer or musician not being compelled to perform their art at a same-sex wedding ceremony (or a ceremony outside of their religious tradition, for that matter). But a baker cannot refuse to make a cake for a reception -- baking a cake for an after-party is not the same thing as participating in the marriage service itself.

We must also be careful about language of "punishment, retribution, or coercion." Religious persecution is one thing; loss of one's perceived "preferred status" is quite another.

26. Will you speak up for your fellow Christians when their jobs, their accreditation, their reputation, and their freedoms are threatened because of this issue?

If a Christian pastor is ever forced to perform a marriage in direct contradiction to their religious beliefs, I will be among the first in line to protest.

If a Christian baker is boycotted for refusing to bake a cake for a same-sex wedding reception, I will likely join in the boycott.

If either of those Christians comes to me to discuss the issue, I will welcome them in the name of the Lord.

27. Will you speak out against shaming and bullying of all kinds, whether against gays and lesbians or against Evangelicals and Catholics?

If by "shaming and bullying," DeYoung means being unfairly targeted for emotional, verbal, or physical abuse based on adherence to one's identity, then yes. I will stand up against bullying, whether the victim is LGBT or hetero/cis, Christian or any other religion, male or female, nerd or jock. But if he means, "Will you break picket lines?" then I must point back to my answer for Q26.

28. Since the evangelical church has often failed to take unbiblical divorces and other sexual sins seriously, what steps will you take to ensure that gay marriages are healthy and accord with Scriptural principles?

Pre-marital counseling, referral to licensed couples' counselors (if needed), and the full support of the Church are essential for all marriages. I would go further and point out that some times, maintaining a healthy marriage requires that the Church lend financial and material support in addition to emotional and spiritual support for struggling families.

29. Should gay couples in open relationships be subject to church discipline? - and -
30. Is it a sin for LGBT persons to engage in sexual activity outside of marriage?

Adultery is wrong. Adultery is always wrong. The Church does not recognize "consensual" forms of adultery. (And I hasten to define adultery: sexual activity in which a married person commits sexual acts with someone other than his or her spouse.)

As to "sexual activity outside of marriage": "Sexual activity" is difficult to define. Hugs and kisses can be sexual or platonic acts. In keeping with my definition of porneia ("extending the the physical nature of a relationship beyond the emotional, mental, and spiritual commitments within said relationship"), I would say that acts involving the genitalia are reserved for married couples.

31. What will open and affirming churches do to speak prophetically against divorce, fornication, pornography, and adultery wherever they are found?

By affirming a positive image of monogamy and developing a healthy theology of the body and human sexuality. This must be instilled in our youth, which means we must affirm that young women have value outside of their roles as wives and mothers. (We cannot deny that feminist and queer theologies are both linked to developing a robust and positive view of human sexuality.) By affirming and supporting married couples in all ways. And, above all, by offering the grace of Christ to those who fall short of these ideals.

32. If “love wins,” how would you define love?

Love wins because Christ conquered the grave. Thus, love is a self-sacrificial, kenotic activity rooted in the infinite love which is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and expressed perfectly by their relationship. This love is infused to us all by God's grace.

33. What verses would you use to establish that definition?

Genesis 1:1 - Revelation 22:21 -- The entire witness of Scripture testifies to Divine Love.

As to "proof texts," Matthew 22:36-40, John 3:16, 1 Corinthians 13, Galatians 5:14, Philippians 2:7, and 1 John 4:8 are good starting points.

34. How should obedience to God’s commands shape our understanding of love?

Christ came to fulfill the Law. The Law is to love. We are called to be like Christ.

35. Do you believe it is possible to love someone and disagree with important decisions they make?

Yes.

36. If supporting gay marriage is a change for you, has anything else changed in your understanding of faith?

A lot. Faith is dynamic and ever-changing.

37. As an evangelical, how has your support for gay marriage helped you become more passionate about traditional evangelical distinctives like a focus on being born again, the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ on the cross, the total trustworthiness of the Bible, and the urgent need to evangelize the lost?

I'm honestly not sure how to answer this question. For one thing, I'm a Lutheran; when I use the term "Evangelical," I mean it in a completely different way than DeYoung and the folks at The Gospel Coalition. When I speak of being "born again," I'm referring to the Sacrament of Baptism (which has become a lot more important in my theology over the past several years, but is only loosely tied to my views on same-sex marriage). I've actually come to reject the "penal substitution" model of atonement in favor of the more ancient Christus Victor model (unrelated to my view of same-sex marriage; oddly, I think I could make more of a case if I held to penal substitution). DeYoung and I mean different things by "total trustworthiness of the Bible." As to the "urgent need to evangelize the lost," (again, I wouldn't use that term) I find it much more loving to tell people about a God who loves them enough to join them on the margins of society than to tell them of a God who loves them but fundamentally hates who they are.

38. What open and affirming churches would you point to where people are being converted to orthodox Christianity, sinners are being warned of judgment and called to repentance, and missionaries are being sent out to plant churches among unreached peoples?

Many parishes within the Episcopal Church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and even a few within the United Methodist Church. Member churches within the Union of Utrect (Old Catholic). There are even a few individual parishes, clergy, and members within the Roman Catholic Church. And because DeYoung is "Reformed," I would be remiss if I didn't point out the Presbyterian Church (USA). Though I doubt he would consider these denominations "orthodox" -- apparently there was a gap in Christian Orthodoxy between the time Paul died and Calvin entered Geneva.

39. Do you hope to be more committed to the church, more committed to Christ, and more committed to the Scriptures in the years ahead?

Yes to all of the above. More so than any other question, this one feels like a slap in the face -- that somehow, DeYoung believes that a Christian cannot answer this question in the affirmative and still affirm LGBT persons and same-sex marriage.

40. When Paul at the end of Romans 1 rebukes “those who practice such things” and those who “give approval to those who practice them,” what sins do you think he has in mind?

...didn't we already cover this one? Cf. Qs 8-10.

- - -

I am curious -- how would other Christians answer these questions?

If you've answered them elsewhere, please, link in the comments below.

Glory to God in the Highest: The Decline of the Gloria In Excelsis, and a Plan for Recovery

I said in one of my earlier posts that the Sanctus might be the single-most ignored piece of liturgy -- that is, the liturgical unit most likely to be altered or replaced with a more recent hymn. While the Sanctus finds its roots in the fourth century and is pulled directly from Scripture, Luther was willing to shift the hymn (placing it after the Verba [Words of Institution]) in the Formula Mass and rewrote the piece for his German Mass. Growing up in the United Methodist Church, we (almost) never sang the Sanctus. I've been to a service where the unending hymn was always omitted.

Despite all of this, I have to revise my earlier statement. The Sanctus may be frequently ignored, but the Gloria in Excelsis is just as neglected.

Like the Sanctus, the Gloria can be traced back to the fourth century. Its inclusion within the Divine Service is attributed to Gregory the Great. By the elventh century, it had become the norm for Sunday and festival services. And, much like the Sanctus, the Gloria unites East and West (though certain Western Rites used in Milan, Spain, and the British Isles, the Gloria was not the only canticle employed after the Kyrie).

In its place, the Lutheran Book of Worship permitted the use of a new hymn, "Worthy is Christ," which is more commonly known as "This is the Feast."

And here I find myself torn. I truly love "This is the Feast." It is a great hymn which highlights the eschatological implications of the Eucharist. But, Pfatteicher points out, it was never intended to replace the Gloria in Excelsis. He writes:

The notes on the Liturgy give clear preference to the greater Gloria as the Hymn of Praise...".The Lutheran Book of Worship also has provided an alternative hymn of praise, especially appropriate for the Sundays of Easter, Christ the King, and All Saints's Day. [Emphasis added.]

What are we to do? "This is the Feast" has become such a part of life in many ELCA parishes that it would be impractical to abandon it. For those of us who have come to the Lutheran tradition since 1978, either through birth or conversion, "This is the Feast" is a staple of Lutheran identity. And it should be. It's a truly wonderful hymn, and I dare not dream of abandoning it.

But we should also not abandon the Gloria. Through it, we join the Church and the choirs of angels in praising the Triune God.

For the past year or so, I've been toying around with the idea of relocating "This is the Feast" from the post-Kyrie position to the Offertory. In its current place, "This is the Feast" undercuts its central thrust. We sing, "This is the feast of victory for our God," and then wait through several readings, a sermon, the Creed, and prayers before getting to anything involving food. However, if we place it at the Offertory, as the Service transitions from Word to Table, it makes sense to stress the shift towards festal language. Doing so would also underscore that the Offertory is part of the Eucharist -- that the collection is not about filling the parish's budget gaps but our offering to God in thanksgiving that we might more fully be the Body of Christ in and for the world.

Having said several critical things about worship at Synod Assembly, let me now offer some affirmation: on the first day, we used "This is the Feast" as the Offertory Hymn. It worked wonderfully. And immediately afterwards, we made Eucharist and partook of the Feast.

- - -
I am deeply indebted to Philip Pfatteicher's Commentary on the Lutheran Book of Worship for the research in this post.

The Church Is Not Glocal -- It's Catholic, Pt. III

Part Three of Three
- - -

One of my mentors, a pastor whom I greatly respect and admire, once passed off a change in denominational polity as "mere semantics." With all due respect to my mentor, semantics are vital to understanding who we are. The difference between different words is a difference in how we think about ourselves. Having bishops instead of presidents may seem inconsequential, but it is a mark which separates the Church from the Lion's Club. Having a diocese or synod rather than a region distinguishes the Body of Christ from a nation or a business.

Let me be clear. Bishops and diocese are not what makes us the Church. We are the Church because we are an in-breaking of the coming Kingdom of God, called and united by the Holy Spirit, baptized into Christ's Death and Resurrection, and upheld as the Body of Christ through the Blessed Sacrament. If our steeples crumbled, our vestments rotted, and our lexicon vanished, we would still be the Church. A rose by any other name, as it were.

But our language should further differentiate us. We participate in God's creative act by giving names, by altering the fabric of our culture.

Language is a key part of culture. It distinguishes one people from another. People I interact with know I am from Georgia because I occasionally slip out a "y'all" or an "ain't." When I visited London, they knew I was an American because I was surprised when my meal came with "chips" and not a bag of Lay's. In Germany, they knew I was an anglophone because I paused before ordering a Bratwurst, searching for the words.

Language not only differentiates between cultures but also frames the way we think about certain subjects. For instance, Oxford historian Chris Wickham once remarked that the christological debates which so occupied the East, with Greek's multiple terms for varying modes of being, made less sense in Latin, and so the West largely ignored the subject. Or, more broadly, think of the debates which rage over vocabulary choice and even punctuation. We make sense of each other and the world through our language.

To quote Toliken, "[E]ach langauge represents a different vision of life."

Wall Street has a term for the intersection of the global and the local, the universal and the particular: "glocal." Wikipedia offers this history of the term:

The term first appeared in the late 1980s in articles by Japanese economists in the Harvard Business Review. According to the sociologist Roland Robertson, who is credited with popularizing the term, glocalization describes the new outcome of local conditions towards global pressures. At a 1997 conference on "Globalization and Indigenous Culture," Robertson said that glocalization "means the simultaneity -- the co-presence -- of both universalizing and particularizing tendencies."

How does a multinational corporation succeed in a new market foreign to the corporation's origin? By commodifying the local culture. And so, at Dunkin' Donuts in South Korea, you see bean paste donuts. Next door at the McDonald's, you see burgers with kimchi.

Let me say here that this process is not inherently bad. One of the best Italian dinners I've ever had was at a culinary school in Daegu, South Korea. Some of the best barbecue I've ever had was a Korean-fusion place (with kimchi cole slaw) in an Atlanta suburb. The process can be reversed in which local businesses utilize new, international tastes rather than multinational companies taking advantage of local idiosyncrasies.

So if "glocalization" is not inherently bad, why do I resist the term so vehemently?

When we talk about the Church, we have a language for describing and making sense of what it means to be within the Body of Christ. We have a way of thinking that differentiates us from the international companies and non-profits and which sets us apart as the ecclesia. And so, when we talk about our concern for the local and the universal, we have a term for it. We are catholic. We confess to believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church -- not a glocal Church. We have our own way of thinking about what we do, and if we start borrowing from Wall Street, then we risk becoming a multinational non-governmental organization rather than the catholic Church.

Adopting business terminology to describe the nature of the Church means that we are letting business, rather than Scripture, the Tradition, or Jesus, frame the debate around what it means to be the Body of Christ and what it means to worship the Risen Lord.

The Church Is Not Glocal -- It's Catholic (Interlude: Reconstruction)

Part Two and a Half of Three
- - -
How might the catholic liturgy emphasize the multicultural character of the entire Church?

As I've mentioned in my previous two posts, the liturgy does this inherently. In the Divine Service, we read from the same Scripture, pray the same prayers, sing the same hymns,* confess the same Creeds, share in the one Baptism, and partake of Christ's Body, the same we have since the apostles (with, granted, some development, especially in the fourth through sixth centuries). The liturgy of the Church catholic transcends temporality, ethnicity, and linguistics.

But suppose a parish wanted to underscore this multiculturalism? What would I recommend instead of the "glocal" service we used at Synod Assembly?

Two suggestions:

First, if a parish is already multicultural or multi-lingual, then using the native languages and rituals of its members should already be the norm. At Candler, where we had students from various parts of Europe and Africa as well as a large number of South Korean students, readings and hymns were often done in the languages of our student body. Every week, the worshiping body was encouraged to pray the Lord's Prayer in their native tongue. O how marvelous it was to hear Portuguese, Korean, German, and countless other languages all at once! One of our Systematic Theology professors, a German Lutheran, frequently presided at the Eucharist during our Friday service. He would offer the Aaronic Benediction auf Deutsch. We all knew exactly what he was saying and could fully share in the beauty of this ancient blessing in a modern language.

In the context of Synod Assembly, then, this would mean inviting members from around the Synod to lead the liturgy in Swahili, Spanish, Korean, German, and the numerous other languages we utilize in worship -- not just for the readings (which we did), but for the prayers, blessings, the Sanctus, and the various other parts of the liturgy.

Secondly, for parishes which are less diverse, incorporate multiple languages into major feast days, especially for Pentecost.

At Pentecost, we celebrate the Holy Spirit's work among us, uniting us into the Church. Everybody on that day heard the Gospel in their native tongue, and the destruction caused at Babel was undone. How appropriate, then, to incorporate multiple languages in worship during this feast?

Here is my humble proposal, along with a few guiding principles:

First, ensure that readers are as near to fluent as possible for their assigned readings. Native, fluent, or at least conversant, is preferable. Small mistakes in linguistics can be funny or they can be horribly offensive.

Second, if feasible, unite with another parish which worships in another language. O swap pastors for the Sunday. If your parish hosts a community which worships in a different language, hold a single service. If there are multiple small parishes worshiping in different languages, try a common service. In doing so, the service actually becomes multicultural rather than multi-linguistic.

Third, never do something in a foreign language that leaves most worshipers out in the cold. Provide a translation. If you're going to read a text or preach in Swedish, make sure that the Korean church you've invited can actually follow what you're saying. The point of this service is to unite the languages, as at Pentecost, not to confuse them, as at Babel. Remember what St. Paul said about speaking in tongues.

Fourth, add a note in the bulletin which identifies each language and explain why it's being used. Why Spanish? Why Korean? Why Urdu?

As to the liturgy itself:

• Invocation and Confession: Latin
• Assurance of Pardon: Native language of most worshipers -- It is fitting that this part of the liturgy, the Good News of forgiveness and reconciliation, be understood by all in attendance. If the pastor is capable, repeat it in the native tongue of all in worship. If conducting a bi- or tri-lingual service, repeat in both or all three tongues.
• Kyrie: If possible, in Greek or Latin. If not, petitions in the native language of most worshipers, response in Greek. Or, 
• Gloria: Latin
• Collect: Salutation in Latin (Dominus vobiscum and Oremus), prayer in native language of most worshipers
• First Lesson: Prominent language in the area, with a translation for those in worship. In Atlanta, for instance, this might mean reading a text in any number of foreign languages. Other places, this might mean Spanish.
• Psalm: Latin, Greek, or Hebrew, sung by the choir -or- a setting for the Psalm in a local prominent language
• Second Lesson: Prominent language in the area, and again with a translation.
• Gospel Lesson: Native language of most worshipers. If two or more parishes have come together for a multi-lingual service, then read the lesson in as many languages as are present.
• Homily: Native language of most worshipers. I know of a small bi-lingual parish in Germany that translates the homily from German into English and provides a physical copy to those who need it. If there is someone capable of providing an accurate translation, then by all means, do this.
• Nicene Creed: Invite each person to confess their faith in their native tongue.
• Prayers of Intercession: Native language of most worshipers, but either a) respond with the Greek Kyrie eleison or invite each worshiper to respond "Lord have mercy" in their native language.
• Offertory Hymn: An offertory hymn taken from another place, perhaps across the globe. Sung in its original language.
• Eucharist: In the native language of most worshipers, with the Sanctus taken from another culture. There are many beautiful settings written in Russian, for instance. It is fitting that parish give thanks to God through the Eucharist as they are able -- in their native language.
• Lord's Prayer: Invite each worshiper to pray in their native language.
• Agnus Dei: Another language, perhaps the same one used for the Sanctus
• Distribution: If possible, have those serving at table distribute the Bread and Chalice in their native tongue.
• Distribution Hymns: Appropriate hymns taken from other cultures and sung as they were written.
• Benediction: In its original language. If the Aaronic Blessing, then Hebrew. Others may be done in Greek or Latin. Or, a language significant to the parish and denomination. For instance, there are many Lutheran churches which were founded as Swedish, Norwegian, or German. A return to the parish's roots is more than appropriate.
• Dismissal: Spanish. An odd choice, but as it is a descendant of Latin, it demonstrates the continued development of languages from the time after Pentecost to the present day. It underscores the continued development of the liturgy from the languages of the Mediterranean to the global diversity of the Church today.

Now, Ite, missa est. Deo gratias.

- - -

*I'm thinking of the Psalms, the Gospel Canticles, and the Sanctus and Agnus Dei. Other hymns, of course, demonstrate the great diversity of Christ's Church across history and varying cultures.

The Church Is Not Glocal -- It's Catholic, Pt. II

Part Two of Three

- - -
Yesterday, I wrote about cultural commodification in the name of "multicultural" worship. Today, I want to think through the disservice we do to ourselves through the same process. In our attempts to incorporate new cultural material into the liturgy, we often replace important parts of the liturgy with something unrelated. It's as though Monty Python took over the liturgy...

The tendency is to remove specific parts of the liturgy, such as the Gloria in excelsis or the Sanctus (which might be the most frequent victim), and replace them with generic hymns. I've already mentioned the "Hispanic Creed." During the same service at the Assembly, we replaced the Sanctus with a similar(ish) Swedish hymn:

You are holy, you are whole.
You are always ever more than we understand. You are always at hand.
Blessed are you coming near. Blessed are you coming hear
To your church in wine and bread, raised from soil, raised from dead. 

You are holy, you are wholeness,
You are present. Let the cosmos praise you, Lord!
Sing hosanna in the highest!
Sing hosanna! Sing hosanna to our God!

At issue here is not the use of a Swedish hymn (though, again, sung in English) but substituting the Ordinary forms of the liturgy for that which is neither Proper nor, to borrow a term, Extraordinary.

Now, when I use the terms Ordinary, Proper, and Extraordinary, I am borrowing from the Rev. Dr. Clay Schmit's Sent and Gathered, a book on "missional" worship. In the catholic liturgy, the Ordinary is that which is used week in and week out in the Divine Service. Certain things never change:

• We gather in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
• We begin the Eucharist with the Sursum Corda and sing the Sanctus.
• We follow the Eucharistic Prayer with the Lord's Prayer.
• We sing the Agnus Dei.

Then, there is that which changes based on the season or given feast/fast -- the Proper. That is, parts of the liturgy are proper to the day and the season:

• We pray a Collect based on the themes of the liturgical calendar.
• We read different lections based on the time of year.
• The Preface in the Eucharistic Prayer changes based on the same calendar.

Rev. Schmit adds to these basic categories that which is proper to a given place -- the Extraordinary. For instance:

• Various paraments and vestments might reflect the symbolic language of a given culture -- we see these distinction between East and West.
• Certain rituals may be idiomatic to a local parish or group. Ed Philips told my Intro to Worship class once of a parish where the congregants sat after the dismissal and watched the acolyte extinguish the candles. There was nothing particularly theological about this act at first; it was just a way of appreciating the child's service in worship.
• Musical settings are entirely culturally dependent. Instrumentation, rhythm, and other aspects are determined by local influence.

And here is the rub. Adopting various Extraordinary forms of worship from other cultures may emphasize the inherently multicultural nature of catholic liturgy (again, assuming that we do so in cultural sensitive and informed ways). But we must also keep in mind the Ordinary. (I must admit, I likely have a broader definition of the Ordinary than Rev. Schmit.)

Catholic worship does certain things. In the Creed, we confess a common and shared faith. In the so-called "Hispanic" creed, we confess what a handful of authors believed and forced on us without warning. There is no time to reflect on what we are being asked to affirm, and we are being asked to confess something which is not held in common with the entire catholic Church. If we were to confess the Apostles' Creed in Spanish, we would be affirming the Christian faith as handed down from the earliest Church. Instead, we are confessing an incomplete (though, thankfully not heretical) quasi-faith.

Likewise, when we replace the Sanctus with something else, we are no longer joining in the hymn of the entire Church and the hosts of heaven. The Sanctus, as it has been received, echoes the cries of the angels Isaiah saw around the heavenly throne and the shouts of those who greeted Jesus in the streets of Jerusalem. Even when we make small changes (such as "blessed is the one who comes in your name,") we are steering away from that which the Church holds in common and, despite our best intentions, actually becoming less inclusive.

The hymn becomes less inclusive because it cease to be what it is: the hymn sung by Christians across the generations. The hymn shared between the Church and the celestial choirs. The cries of the angelic hosts ministering to God in Heaven. The shouts of Judaeans greeting the triumphal Davidic King and Messiah. The hymn which has been utilized by the Church for this purpose since the fifth century. The hymn which unites us all.

And so the hymn we sung instead of the Sanctus, while a decent enough hymn in its own way (if not a bit cheesy), and more than adequate for use in worship, is not up to the task of replacing the Sanctus.

By way of example, imagine two scenarios:

You are at the Olympics, and your nation's athlete has just taken gold. The athlete approaches the podium and she is handed your nation's flag. They place the gold medal around her neck and begin to play...a national folk song. Now, this song is not necessarily bad. In fact, it might even be quite beautiful. But it is not the anthem of your nation -- not the song that unites people from every corner of the land, the song that you grew up singing before sporting events and on national holidays. It serves a different purpose and undermines the moment of national unity during the medal ceremony.

Or...

You are at a parish council meeting and the session is about to begin. The council president suggests that the meeting should open with the Lord's Prayer, printed on the agenda. And so everybody reverently bows their head, looks down at the agenda, and begins to pray, "Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open...." Again, this is not a bad prayer -- quite the contrary. But it is not the Lord's Prayer, that which Christ commanded the disciples to pray.

Our liturgy has taken on a specific shape and has a certain narrative flow to it. The various elements serve specific functions which contribute to the overall narrative of the liturgy. After the readings and the homily, when we stand to confess our faith, it is the common Christian faith of the entire Church catholic which we are affirming. When we join in that glorious unending hymn, it is the common song of angels and humans that we are singing. In various tongues, rhythms, and styles, these elements must remain catholic.

There is room for change and development in the liturgy. There is room for freedom. But this freedom must be acted upon carefully, deliberately, and intelligently. Even within the Eucharistic Prayer, that most vital and sacred of Christian traditions, there is room for variety and change. But these changes must be acted upon with great care. The Anamnesis, our remembrance of Christ's Passion and Resurrection and our stated reason for offering our thanks and praise, can be re-worded or expanded, but it can never be for anything less than God's salvific acts culminating in the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of our Lord Christ.

The Creeds may be re-translated, spoken, sung, or chanted in a variety of different languages. But they must remain the common confession of faith handed down across the years and held in common by the entire Church.

The Sanctus may be set to a different tune, the language may be updated, it can be translated in to different languages, but it can never be anything less than the unending hymn that the Church shares with the host of heaven.

So, if we are going to utilize languages and songs from various cultures, we must do so in a way that is sensitive -- both to the culture from which the material is lifted and to the catholic liturgy into which it is being placed.