Do bist zwar mein und bleibest mein
Paul Gerhardt, 1650, on the death of a son
(translated by Catherine Winkworth)
Thou'rt mine, yes, still thou art mine own!
Who tells me thou art lost?
But yet thou art not mine alone,
I own that He who cross'd
My hopes, hath greatest right in thee;
Yea, though He ask and take from me
Thee, O my son, my heart's delight,
My wish, my thought, by day and night.
Ah might I wish, ah might I choose,
Then thou, my Star, shouldst live,
And gladly for thy sake I'd lose
All else that life can give.
Oh fain I'd say: Abide with me,
The sunshine of my house to be,
No other joy but this I crave,
To love thee, darling, to my grave!
Thus saith my heart, and means it well,
God meaneth better still;
My love is more than words can tell,
His love is greater still;
I am a father, He the Head
And Crown of fathers, whence is shed
The life and love from which have sprung
All blessed ties in old and young.
I long for thee, my son, my own,
And He who once hath given,
Will have thee now beside His throne,
To live with Him in heaven.
I cry, Alas! my light, my child!
But God hath welcome on him smiled,
And said: "My child, I keep thee near,
For there is nought but gladness here."
Oh blessed word, oh deep decree,
More holy than we think!
With God no grief or woe can be,
No bitter cup to drink,
No sickening hopes, no want or care,
No hurt can ever reach him there;
Yes, in that Father's shelter'd home
I know that sorrow cannot come.
We pass our nights in wakeful thought
For our dear children's sake;
All day our anxious toil hath sought
How best for them to make
A future safe from care or need,
Yet seldom do our schemes succeed;
How rarely does their future prove
What we had plann'd for those we love!
How many a child of promise bright
Ere now hath gone astray,
By ill example taught to slight
And quit Christ's holy way.
Oh fearful the reward is then,
The wrath of God, the scorn of men!
The bitterest tears by mortal shed
Are his, who mourns a child misled.
But now I need not fear for thee,
Where thou art, all is well;
For thou thy Father's Face dost see,
With Jesus thou dost dwell!
Yes, cloudless joys around him shine,
His heart shall never ache like mine,
He sees the radiant armies glow
That keep and guide us here below:
He hears their singing evermore,
His little voice too sings,
He drinks of wisdom deepest lore,
He speaks of secret things,
That we can never see or know
Howe'er we seek or strive below,
While yet amid the mists we stand
That veil this dark and tearful land.
Oh that I could but watch afar,
And hearken but awhile,
To that sweet song that hath no jar,
And see his heavenly smile,
As he doth praise the holy God,
Who made him pure for that abode!
In tears of joy full well I know
This burden'd heart would overflow.
And I should say: Stay there, my son,
My wild laments are o'er,
O well for thee that thou hast won,
I call thee back no more;
But come, thou fiery chariot, come,
And bear me swiftly to that home,
Where he with many a loved one dwells,
And evermore of gladness tells!
Then be it as my Father wills,
I will not weep for thee;
Thou livest, joy thy spirit fills,
Pure sunshine thou dost see,
The sunshine of eternal rest:
Abide, my child, where thou art blest;
I with our friends will onward fare,
And, when God wills, shall find thee there.
19 April 2008
Vanity of the Bonfires
I'm just sitting here watching the people go walking by; you know I love to watch them stroll. Or, at any rate, it can be rather mesmerizing.
The windows in all three of the main rooms of the apartment where I'm staying over here in Novosibirsk all look out upon a street that runs from the main bus stop hub for this area to the main shopping center for this area. There's been a steady stream of people walking past all day long. So, as I've gone about my Saturday, a bit more relaxing and casual than my busy weekdays have been, I've paused to observe the folks on their way to and fro, and it is somewhat fascinating to me. Partly I am intrigued by those things that are different than back home, and partly I am struck by those things that are so similar. It hits me less so, now, than it did on my first time here (in 1999), but I do still marvel at such observations.
The sweetest thing I've seen today are the number of older couples walking arm in arm along the street, many of the women with bouquets of pretty flowers in hand. I have found that quite charming, and somehow it makes me feel better about life and the whole wide world.
What I do not understand is the number of women wearing pointy high heels. I mean, really, this just seems crazy to me. It's not the sort of thing to which I would normally give a second thought, but it's been hard not to notice these ladies struggling to walk, contorted and off balance as they make their way down the street. Good grief, it makes no sense.
Actually, I've never fully understood the point or purpose to high heels, anyway. Someone told me once (I think it was a woman who said this, so I guess it's safe to repeat it), that heels help to show off a woman's calves as trim and fit and muscular. Okay, that's well and good. These days, it seems downright quaint and wholesome to consider the attractiveness of a woman's calves, which are probably in danger of going unnoticed with all the competition on display above them. But most of the women walking by my window in their three-inch stilleto heels have been wearing jeans, or longer dresses, so there's no question of showing off calves.
This isn't a modesty issue; there's nothing immodest about high heels, so far as I know. But I wonder if it isn't a matter of vanity. I am well aware that we men have our male egos and more than our fair share of vanity, too, so I'm not pointing fingers. I am simply puzzled and a little amused by what seems to me a very strange choice of footwear.
Easily better than half of the women walking by today — maybe as many as 80% of them — have been wearing high heels of one sort or another. But almost none of these ladies have appeared to be very comfortable, graceful or elegant in their shoes. Maybe they don't own anything else? Seriously, though, they're living in Siberia, and I can't believe there's nothing else available. The other 20% of the women somehow managed to find sturdy shoes or winter boots to wear with their jeans.
Consider that we have had several inches of snow here, earlier this week, and temperatures below freezing until today. It's been thawing a bit today, which means that the streets and the pathways are snowy, slushy, slippery and messy. Also, the walk between the bus stop and the shopping center includes a dirt path on an incline through the woods. I ventured out earlier myself, in order to pick up some food for the weekend, and I was wishing that I had my winter boots with me, instead of my tennis shoes, because that path is particularly slick and muddy in many places. So, why on earth would anyone choose to walk that path in heels? Maybe it's easier than it looks, but, as I say, most of these ladies looked pretty awkward today. If they're required to wear heels for some reason, I feel sorry for them. If they've simply chosen to do so out of vanity, I can only shake my head about it.
Probably, I'm just missing the point. Most of the women and young ladies I know tend not to wear high heels very often, and I've certainly never thought poorly of them for it. It's funny, I suppose, but I guess I do notice shoes as much or more than any other articles of fashion. Weird, since I have basically only two pairs of shoes myself. I do know that my future daughter-in-law has quite an impressive collection of shoes. Perhaps she will enlighten me as to why so many of these women would want to wear stilleto heels with their jeans on a snowy spring day in Siberia.
The windows in all three of the main rooms of the apartment where I'm staying over here in Novosibirsk all look out upon a street that runs from the main bus stop hub for this area to the main shopping center for this area. There's been a steady stream of people walking past all day long. So, as I've gone about my Saturday, a bit more relaxing and casual than my busy weekdays have been, I've paused to observe the folks on their way to and fro, and it is somewhat fascinating to me. Partly I am intrigued by those things that are different than back home, and partly I am struck by those things that are so similar. It hits me less so, now, than it did on my first time here (in 1999), but I do still marvel at such observations.
The sweetest thing I've seen today are the number of older couples walking arm in arm along the street, many of the women with bouquets of pretty flowers in hand. I have found that quite charming, and somehow it makes me feel better about life and the whole wide world.
What I do not understand is the number of women wearing pointy high heels. I mean, really, this just seems crazy to me. It's not the sort of thing to which I would normally give a second thought, but it's been hard not to notice these ladies struggling to walk, contorted and off balance as they make their way down the street. Good grief, it makes no sense.
Actually, I've never fully understood the point or purpose to high heels, anyway. Someone told me once (I think it was a woman who said this, so I guess it's safe to repeat it), that heels help to show off a woman's calves as trim and fit and muscular. Okay, that's well and good. These days, it seems downright quaint and wholesome to consider the attractiveness of a woman's calves, which are probably in danger of going unnoticed with all the competition on display above them. But most of the women walking by my window in their three-inch stilleto heels have been wearing jeans, or longer dresses, so there's no question of showing off calves.
This isn't a modesty issue; there's nothing immodest about high heels, so far as I know. But I wonder if it isn't a matter of vanity. I am well aware that we men have our male egos and more than our fair share of vanity, too, so I'm not pointing fingers. I am simply puzzled and a little amused by what seems to me a very strange choice of footwear.
Easily better than half of the women walking by today — maybe as many as 80% of them — have been wearing high heels of one sort or another. But almost none of these ladies have appeared to be very comfortable, graceful or elegant in their shoes. Maybe they don't own anything else? Seriously, though, they're living in Siberia, and I can't believe there's nothing else available. The other 20% of the women somehow managed to find sturdy shoes or winter boots to wear with their jeans.
Consider that we have had several inches of snow here, earlier this week, and temperatures below freezing until today. It's been thawing a bit today, which means that the streets and the pathways are snowy, slushy, slippery and messy. Also, the walk between the bus stop and the shopping center includes a dirt path on an incline through the woods. I ventured out earlier myself, in order to pick up some food for the weekend, and I was wishing that I had my winter boots with me, instead of my tennis shoes, because that path is particularly slick and muddy in many places. So, why on earth would anyone choose to walk that path in heels? Maybe it's easier than it looks, but, as I say, most of these ladies looked pretty awkward today. If they're required to wear heels for some reason, I feel sorry for them. If they've simply chosen to do so out of vanity, I can only shake my head about it.
Probably, I'm just missing the point. Most of the women and young ladies I know tend not to wear high heels very often, and I've certainly never thought poorly of them for it. It's funny, I suppose, but I guess I do notice shoes as much or more than any other articles of fashion. Weird, since I have basically only two pairs of shoes myself. I do know that my future daughter-in-law has quite an impressive collection of shoes. Perhaps she will enlighten me as to why so many of these women would want to wear stilleto heels with their jeans on a snowy spring day in Siberia.
14 April 2008
Vernacular Language and Liturgical Culture
One of the most disconcerting and intimidating things, in my experience, is to be surrounded by people who speak a different language than I do. Even in a secure situation, in the company of friends, the inability to converse and communicate normally is frustrating and unsettling. Not knowing the language is all the more challenging and stressful in new surroundings or in a crowd of strangers. It can be aggravating, sometimes frightening.
Thankfully, though, people everywhere share many of the same needs and similar routines, and such things can often surmount linguistic barriers. To state the most obvious case in point, everyone eats and drinks, and, consequently, everyone has to go potty at fairly regular intervals. Which means that, no matter where in the world you may be, and no matter what the language of the place, it is relatively simple to communicate that you are looking for food or looking for a restroom. Universal human needs generate universal signs, symbols and gestures, which are naturally expressed and easily (eagerly) recognized.
Flying around the world is not a universal human need, but lots of folks are doing it every day. International flights are constantly transporting large numbers of people from one linguistic milieu to another. Airports are a modern melting pot of every tribe and tongue on earth, with travelers coming and going at an astonishing rate. In order for that to work, which it generally does (surprisingly well most of the time), there are certain things that have to be handled in a clear and consistent fashion.
There is, therefore, a standard "airport culture" which characterizes any airport, irrespective of the local flavor it may have; no matter what the language gracing its signs and billboards may be; and no matter what sort of native dress it may wear. If it's an airport, there are certain characteristics that it has to have, which comprise its definitive culture, and apart from which it would be no airport at all (leastwise not a commercial airport of any significance). It's going to have security procedures in place (more or less sophisticated), luggage checks and baggage claims, flight information, boarding and departure protocols.
Consequently, even without a translator or any knowledge of the local lingo, a traveler who knows how to make his way around an airport, will know how to make his way around any airport, wherever he may roam. Notwithstanding that some airports are easier to navigate than others, because some are better organized and more efficient than others. The same sorts of airport things have to be included, be they featured poorly or well, if a place is to function as an airport and not become some other sort of place altogether. Thus, airports all over the globe, especially international airports, are more alike than different.
The Church has her own culture, too, which constitutes, defines, and governs her identity and her life as the Church. Her culture is shaped by her cultus, whereby she is distinct from the world in which she lives, while she is yet the same all over the world. Her culture is not a matter of this or that particular music, nor of any specific aesthetic style, far less any one tribal tongue. It is but the common cultus of the Gospel, that is, the Liturgy of preaching and the Sacraments.
Even in Siberia, in the midst of fellow Christians who do not speak my language, I'm able to comprehend and participate in the Divine Service, because the Church's liturgical culture is more or less the same from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets. It is served and supported, carried along and accompanied by established ritual structures and significant ceremonial gestures which communicate with clarity even in a foreign land.
There are barely a handful of Russian words that I've learned, but I am able to recognize the Psalmody, the Invocation, the Kyrie, the Salutation and Collects, the responses to the Readings, the Creed, the Prayer of the Church, and almost the entire eucharistic rite, including the Sanctus, the Verba Domini, the Our Father, the Pax Domini, the Agnus Dei, and the Aaronic Benediction. I can discern these various rites of the Divine Service, give attention to them in faith, and, where appropriate, pray or confess them simultaneously in English, because each of them has its own place in the order of service, and each of them has its own distinctive structure and cadence.
Participating in this way, on the basis of familiar ritual structures, gives me a different perspective than usual. It makes my experience of the Liturgy in Siberia more like that of a young child. In particular, I am more aware of how powerful and significant ceremonial gestures are, expressive of a piety too deep for words. I perceive and understand what's "going on," when I observe the sign of the cross being made, and I see people folding their hands and lowering their heads to pray, and I watch them as they stand or sit, kneel or bow.
The preaching, praying and confessing are all in the vernacular Russian, but the rites and ceremonies belong to the liturgical culture of the whole Church. That makes the Divine Service a home away from home for me, as it is for Christians all over the world: a place of genuine peace and Sabbath rest in Christ, in the midst of our pilgrimage.
If, instead, the Church's life were to be defined and characterized by the local culture of each place in which she is established, then the Christian could only find himself at home in that one place where he happens to live on earth; he'd never be able to find another place like home in heaven or on earth. Yet, the Christian lives only in the world, not of it. The world's culture is not his permanent home, but a temporary outer garment that he shall easily remove when he enters at last the mansions of his Father's house. Even now, he dwells within the Father's house on earth, by finding his place in the life of the Church with her own liturgical culture.
In fact, the Church's liturgical culture has been remarkably consistent all over the world, from the New Testament to the present day. St. Justin Martyr's description of the Divine Service in the second century would serve as a fair description of the Divine Service in our own 21st century. There is catechesis leading to and from Holy Baptism. There is the reading and proclamation of the Holy Scriptures, and the preaching of repentance for the forgiveness of sins in the name of Jesus. There is the prayer of the Church, the gathering of alms for those in need, and the offering of praise and thanksgiving. There is the consecration of bread and wine with the Word of Jesus, by which these are His Body and Blood, given and poured out for His Christian disciples to eat and to drink. This remains the Church's proper liturgical culture, irrespective of historical epoch, geographical location, political boundaries, or even language.
To be sure, the Church catholic speaks in many tongues around the world, but her common speaking is the Word of Christ, by which disciples of all nations are gathered into His one body. This is the way of the Christian Pentecost (the culmination of the Christian Pascha), by which the confusion of tongues and the dispersal of the nations from Babel is reversed. One and the same Gospel is preached and confessed in a multiplicity of languages, so that all those who hear and receive this Gospel, who believe with the heart and confess with the mouth that Jesus Christ is Lord, are granted a common participation in that one Lord, through one faith, by one Baptism, unto one God and Father of all, in the unity of the one Holy Spirit and the bond of peace.
St. Irenaeus of Lyons (second century) describes this very nicely in his monumental work, Against Heresies (Book 1, chapter 10, para. 2): "The Church, having received this preaching and this faith, though dispersed in the whole world, diligently guards them as living in one house, believes them as having one soul and one heart, and consistently preaches, teaches, and hands them down as having one mouth. For if the languages in the world are dissimilar, the power of the tradition is one and the same. The churches founded in Germany believe and hand down no differently, nor do those among the Iberians, among the Celts, in the Orient, in Egypt, or in Libya, or those established in the middle of the world. As the sun, God's creature, is one and the same in the whole world, so the light, the preaching of truth, shines everywhere and illuminates all men who wish to come to the knowledge of truth. And none of the rulers of the churches, however gifted he may be in eloquence, will say anything different — for no one is above the Master — nor will one weak in speech damage the tradition. Since the faith is one and the same, he who can say much about it does not add to it nor does he who says little diminish it" (translated by Robert M. Grant, 1997).
Therefore, the one, holy, catholic and Apostolic Church has all things in common with Christ her Head, and she freely shares those good things of Christ with all her members, wherever they may sojourn as strangers and pilgrims in this temporal world. They are defined as Christians, as fellow members of the one Body of Christ, as brothers and sisters in Him, as children of the same heavenly Father, by their sincere devotion to the Apostolic teaching and fellowship, to the Breaking of the Bread and the prayers of the Church.
This is the Church's Divine Service, which constitutes her life in Christ. This is her cultus, which is the gracious work of Christ on her behalf and for her benefit. Within the stability of this fixed liturgical culture, His Word is articulated to and for His Church in every language under heaven, although it is always and everywhere the same Word of Christ, who is Himself the Word-made-Flesh. It is chiefly the Word of the Gospel, the forgiveness of sins, which translates beautifully into any language!
Make no mistake, therefore, I'm heartily in favor of using the vernacular, both in preaching and in the conduct of the Liturgy. Preaching ought to be simple and straightforward, though not crass or simplistic. It ought to be clear and concrete, yet thoughtful and thought-provoking. It ought to be engaging, though not in the way of entertainment but as a call to repentance. It ought to be down to earth, but still respectful and polite, not vulgar. It ought to be direct and to the point, spoken with care and precision. It ought to be unpretentious, delivered in the ordinary, colloquial and idiomatic speech of the people. All of this belongs to the vernacular of preaching, which is more localized and timely than the rites of the Liturgy.
The ritual should also be in the language of the people, but with less personality and without any local flavor. It should rather convey the dignity and catholicity of that which is shared by the entire Church in every time and place. It should possess a solemn clarity, and have a stateliness about it, which enables it to serve from one generation to the next and across the widest range of dialects.
In each case, the point is that the Word of God and the prayers of the Church ought to be rendered in the language of the people. Yea and amen! But I do not agree that this need for vernacular language requires the adoption of the vernacular culture. That does not follow.
Language and culture are closely related to each other, that is true. Yet, they are not one and the same, and the differences between them are significant. Language is more fundamental, more comprehensive, and more neutral. Culture is more specific and particular, more localized, and freighted with its own connotations in a way that language is not. For language, in itself, is simply an agreed-upon convention of letters and sounds, grammar and syntax, which can readily be used to carry and convey the Word of the Lord.
Language is a kind of empty luggage that we may fill with the Lord's Word. Culture, though, is baggage with someone else's belongings already packed inside. We best be careful, then, before attempting to claim such cultural baggage. For in this case we are laying hold of some particular content, which is prior to and apart from the Word of God we desire to convey. In other words, culture is a larger sort of language that is already speaking, already saying something else, before the Church has had a chance to catechize it and confess with it correctly.
"Culture," in this context, refers especially to musical idioms, but also to artistic styles and architectural forms. All of these things may be fair game, perhaps, but each and all of them are necessarily bent toward the confession of Christ, to bow before the preaching of His Gospel and the administration of His holy Sacraments. Whatever differing modes of expression may be used, these arts and sciences do not comprise the Church's culture, but simply adorn it (ideally with beauty and loveliness). They serve and support it. They help to honor and confess what is the heart of the matter. But they cannot, of themselves, add anything to the Liturgy of the Gospel. And they dare not be permitted to subtract from that blessed evangelical Liturgy, nor to contradict or compete with it, nor to distract from it or take its place.
By all means, let us receive the plunder of the Egyptians from the gracious hand of God, along with sunshine and rain and all His other gifts of daily bread. Let us rightly use the treasures of the nations to adorn the tabernacle and the priesthood of the Church and Ministry: in submission to and in accordance with the Word of God. Thereby do we magnify His holy Name in our midst. But let us never make such plunder into a golden calf, nor give to it the glory that belongs only to the Lord our God. Christ alone is enthroned in mercy between the Cherubim and Seraphim, and all the kings of the earth must remove their crowns before Him, prostrate themselves at His feet, and present Him with their gifts.
It would surely be a shame and a sad impoverishment if only one artistic style were permitted in the Church, or only one architectural design, or only one mood or manner of music. The criteria, however, for the use of this or that musical idiom, artistic approach, or architectural form, ought to be its harmonious compatibility with the Church's liturgical culture (that is, the Gospel preached and the Sacraments administered). For music and the arts communicate, each in its own manner, and thereby ought to assist in the catechesis and confession of the Word of God. They ought also to convey a reverence for God and respect for His Church, and so be used in faith and love. They should be things of beauty and loveliness and elegance, rather than harsh or jarring or chaotic (Phil. 4:8). For all of that, even at their best, they are but a complement, an adornment of the Church's proper liturgical culture, and not a definitive part of it.
To be sure, the Church has — here and there in the course of her history — taken up aspects of the cultural context in which she is living and incorporated those elements into her own liturgical culture. Not for apologetic and evangelistic purposes, but as a natural consequence of her life in this world, as a kind of decoration attaching to her ongoing confession of the Word of Christ and accompanying her daily prayers. Those adornments have typically come and gone without any self-consciousness, being largely transparent to the real business at hand; for they are not the Church's culture, properly speaking, but merely attendant circumstances. Sometimes, though, the adornments of a particular time and place have, by their use, been lifted out of their original context to persist in their connection to the Church's own unique culture. Where that has happened, they have been redefined by their association with the Liturgy, so as to become something new and different within the life of the Church than they were in the world. Clerical vestments are a case in point, as these developed from the ordinary clothing of antiquity.
Where the Church's liturgical culture is left intact and allowed to function as the heart and soul of the Church's life, then the trappings of the world in which she lives may come and go, whether by choice or by chance, without disrupting or disturbing the participation of the faithful. In fact, where the Church's liturgical culture is alive and well, its ritual structures and ceremonial gestures enable even foreign visitors to participate with relative ease. As important and beneficial as the vernacular is, it's not the only way or means of catchesis and confession. It simply isn't necessary for everything to be verbally transparent, instantly clear, or explained ad nauseam. Often the best way to learn a foreign language is to be immersed in it, "sink or swim," and to figure it out by trial and error. One finds out fast enough where the food and the potties are!
Rather than inculturating herself in the ways of the world, the Church should inculturate her members, her catechumens and her guests, in her own liturgical culture, which is rooted in the Gospel and adorned by a common confession of Christ.
Thankfully, though, people everywhere share many of the same needs and similar routines, and such things can often surmount linguistic barriers. To state the most obvious case in point, everyone eats and drinks, and, consequently, everyone has to go potty at fairly regular intervals. Which means that, no matter where in the world you may be, and no matter what the language of the place, it is relatively simple to communicate that you are looking for food or looking for a restroom. Universal human needs generate universal signs, symbols and gestures, which are naturally expressed and easily (eagerly) recognized.
Flying around the world is not a universal human need, but lots of folks are doing it every day. International flights are constantly transporting large numbers of people from one linguistic milieu to another. Airports are a modern melting pot of every tribe and tongue on earth, with travelers coming and going at an astonishing rate. In order for that to work, which it generally does (surprisingly well most of the time), there are certain things that have to be handled in a clear and consistent fashion.
There is, therefore, a standard "airport culture" which characterizes any airport, irrespective of the local flavor it may have; no matter what the language gracing its signs and billboards may be; and no matter what sort of native dress it may wear. If it's an airport, there are certain characteristics that it has to have, which comprise its definitive culture, and apart from which it would be no airport at all (leastwise not a commercial airport of any significance). It's going to have security procedures in place (more or less sophisticated), luggage checks and baggage claims, flight information, boarding and departure protocols.
Consequently, even without a translator or any knowledge of the local lingo, a traveler who knows how to make his way around an airport, will know how to make his way around any airport, wherever he may roam. Notwithstanding that some airports are easier to navigate than others, because some are better organized and more efficient than others. The same sorts of airport things have to be included, be they featured poorly or well, if a place is to function as an airport and not become some other sort of place altogether. Thus, airports all over the globe, especially international airports, are more alike than different.
The Church has her own culture, too, which constitutes, defines, and governs her identity and her life as the Church. Her culture is shaped by her cultus, whereby she is distinct from the world in which she lives, while she is yet the same all over the world. Her culture is not a matter of this or that particular music, nor of any specific aesthetic style, far less any one tribal tongue. It is but the common cultus of the Gospel, that is, the Liturgy of preaching and the Sacraments.
Even in Siberia, in the midst of fellow Christians who do not speak my language, I'm able to comprehend and participate in the Divine Service, because the Church's liturgical culture is more or less the same from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets. It is served and supported, carried along and accompanied by established ritual structures and significant ceremonial gestures which communicate with clarity even in a foreign land.
There are barely a handful of Russian words that I've learned, but I am able to recognize the Psalmody, the Invocation, the Kyrie, the Salutation and Collects, the responses to the Readings, the Creed, the Prayer of the Church, and almost the entire eucharistic rite, including the Sanctus, the Verba Domini, the Our Father, the Pax Domini, the Agnus Dei, and the Aaronic Benediction. I can discern these various rites of the Divine Service, give attention to them in faith, and, where appropriate, pray or confess them simultaneously in English, because each of them has its own place in the order of service, and each of them has its own distinctive structure and cadence.
Participating in this way, on the basis of familiar ritual structures, gives me a different perspective than usual. It makes my experience of the Liturgy in Siberia more like that of a young child. In particular, I am more aware of how powerful and significant ceremonial gestures are, expressive of a piety too deep for words. I perceive and understand what's "going on," when I observe the sign of the cross being made, and I see people folding their hands and lowering their heads to pray, and I watch them as they stand or sit, kneel or bow.
The preaching, praying and confessing are all in the vernacular Russian, but the rites and ceremonies belong to the liturgical culture of the whole Church. That makes the Divine Service a home away from home for me, as it is for Christians all over the world: a place of genuine peace and Sabbath rest in Christ, in the midst of our pilgrimage.
If, instead, the Church's life were to be defined and characterized by the local culture of each place in which she is established, then the Christian could only find himself at home in that one place where he happens to live on earth; he'd never be able to find another place like home in heaven or on earth. Yet, the Christian lives only in the world, not of it. The world's culture is not his permanent home, but a temporary outer garment that he shall easily remove when he enters at last the mansions of his Father's house. Even now, he dwells within the Father's house on earth, by finding his place in the life of the Church with her own liturgical culture.
In fact, the Church's liturgical culture has been remarkably consistent all over the world, from the New Testament to the present day. St. Justin Martyr's description of the Divine Service in the second century would serve as a fair description of the Divine Service in our own 21st century. There is catechesis leading to and from Holy Baptism. There is the reading and proclamation of the Holy Scriptures, and the preaching of repentance for the forgiveness of sins in the name of Jesus. There is the prayer of the Church, the gathering of alms for those in need, and the offering of praise and thanksgiving. There is the consecration of bread and wine with the Word of Jesus, by which these are His Body and Blood, given and poured out for His Christian disciples to eat and to drink. This remains the Church's proper liturgical culture, irrespective of historical epoch, geographical location, political boundaries, or even language.
To be sure, the Church catholic speaks in many tongues around the world, but her common speaking is the Word of Christ, by which disciples of all nations are gathered into His one body. This is the way of the Christian Pentecost (the culmination of the Christian Pascha), by which the confusion of tongues and the dispersal of the nations from Babel is reversed. One and the same Gospel is preached and confessed in a multiplicity of languages, so that all those who hear and receive this Gospel, who believe with the heart and confess with the mouth that Jesus Christ is Lord, are granted a common participation in that one Lord, through one faith, by one Baptism, unto one God and Father of all, in the unity of the one Holy Spirit and the bond of peace.
St. Irenaeus of Lyons (second century) describes this very nicely in his monumental work, Against Heresies (Book 1, chapter 10, para. 2): "The Church, having received this preaching and this faith, though dispersed in the whole world, diligently guards them as living in one house, believes them as having one soul and one heart, and consistently preaches, teaches, and hands them down as having one mouth. For if the languages in the world are dissimilar, the power of the tradition is one and the same. The churches founded in Germany believe and hand down no differently, nor do those among the Iberians, among the Celts, in the Orient, in Egypt, or in Libya, or those established in the middle of the world. As the sun, God's creature, is one and the same in the whole world, so the light, the preaching of truth, shines everywhere and illuminates all men who wish to come to the knowledge of truth. And none of the rulers of the churches, however gifted he may be in eloquence, will say anything different — for no one is above the Master — nor will one weak in speech damage the tradition. Since the faith is one and the same, he who can say much about it does not add to it nor does he who says little diminish it" (translated by Robert M. Grant, 1997).
Therefore, the one, holy, catholic and Apostolic Church has all things in common with Christ her Head, and she freely shares those good things of Christ with all her members, wherever they may sojourn as strangers and pilgrims in this temporal world. They are defined as Christians, as fellow members of the one Body of Christ, as brothers and sisters in Him, as children of the same heavenly Father, by their sincere devotion to the Apostolic teaching and fellowship, to the Breaking of the Bread and the prayers of the Church.
This is the Church's Divine Service, which constitutes her life in Christ. This is her cultus, which is the gracious work of Christ on her behalf and for her benefit. Within the stability of this fixed liturgical culture, His Word is articulated to and for His Church in every language under heaven, although it is always and everywhere the same Word of Christ, who is Himself the Word-made-Flesh. It is chiefly the Word of the Gospel, the forgiveness of sins, which translates beautifully into any language!
Make no mistake, therefore, I'm heartily in favor of using the vernacular, both in preaching and in the conduct of the Liturgy. Preaching ought to be simple and straightforward, though not crass or simplistic. It ought to be clear and concrete, yet thoughtful and thought-provoking. It ought to be engaging, though not in the way of entertainment but as a call to repentance. It ought to be down to earth, but still respectful and polite, not vulgar. It ought to be direct and to the point, spoken with care and precision. It ought to be unpretentious, delivered in the ordinary, colloquial and idiomatic speech of the people. All of this belongs to the vernacular of preaching, which is more localized and timely than the rites of the Liturgy.
The ritual should also be in the language of the people, but with less personality and without any local flavor. It should rather convey the dignity and catholicity of that which is shared by the entire Church in every time and place. It should possess a solemn clarity, and have a stateliness about it, which enables it to serve from one generation to the next and across the widest range of dialects.
In each case, the point is that the Word of God and the prayers of the Church ought to be rendered in the language of the people. Yea and amen! But I do not agree that this need for vernacular language requires the adoption of the vernacular culture. That does not follow.
Language and culture are closely related to each other, that is true. Yet, they are not one and the same, and the differences between them are significant. Language is more fundamental, more comprehensive, and more neutral. Culture is more specific and particular, more localized, and freighted with its own connotations in a way that language is not. For language, in itself, is simply an agreed-upon convention of letters and sounds, grammar and syntax, which can readily be used to carry and convey the Word of the Lord.
Language is a kind of empty luggage that we may fill with the Lord's Word. Culture, though, is baggage with someone else's belongings already packed inside. We best be careful, then, before attempting to claim such cultural baggage. For in this case we are laying hold of some particular content, which is prior to and apart from the Word of God we desire to convey. In other words, culture is a larger sort of language that is already speaking, already saying something else, before the Church has had a chance to catechize it and confess with it correctly.
"Culture," in this context, refers especially to musical idioms, but also to artistic styles and architectural forms. All of these things may be fair game, perhaps, but each and all of them are necessarily bent toward the confession of Christ, to bow before the preaching of His Gospel and the administration of His holy Sacraments. Whatever differing modes of expression may be used, these arts and sciences do not comprise the Church's culture, but simply adorn it (ideally with beauty and loveliness). They serve and support it. They help to honor and confess what is the heart of the matter. But they cannot, of themselves, add anything to the Liturgy of the Gospel. And they dare not be permitted to subtract from that blessed evangelical Liturgy, nor to contradict or compete with it, nor to distract from it or take its place.
By all means, let us receive the plunder of the Egyptians from the gracious hand of God, along with sunshine and rain and all His other gifts of daily bread. Let us rightly use the treasures of the nations to adorn the tabernacle and the priesthood of the Church and Ministry: in submission to and in accordance with the Word of God. Thereby do we magnify His holy Name in our midst. But let us never make such plunder into a golden calf, nor give to it the glory that belongs only to the Lord our God. Christ alone is enthroned in mercy between the Cherubim and Seraphim, and all the kings of the earth must remove their crowns before Him, prostrate themselves at His feet, and present Him with their gifts.
It would surely be a shame and a sad impoverishment if only one artistic style were permitted in the Church, or only one architectural design, or only one mood or manner of music. The criteria, however, for the use of this or that musical idiom, artistic approach, or architectural form, ought to be its harmonious compatibility with the Church's liturgical culture (that is, the Gospel preached and the Sacraments administered). For music and the arts communicate, each in its own manner, and thereby ought to assist in the catechesis and confession of the Word of God. They ought also to convey a reverence for God and respect for His Church, and so be used in faith and love. They should be things of beauty and loveliness and elegance, rather than harsh or jarring or chaotic (Phil. 4:8). For all of that, even at their best, they are but a complement, an adornment of the Church's proper liturgical culture, and not a definitive part of it.
To be sure, the Church has — here and there in the course of her history — taken up aspects of the cultural context in which she is living and incorporated those elements into her own liturgical culture. Not for apologetic and evangelistic purposes, but as a natural consequence of her life in this world, as a kind of decoration attaching to her ongoing confession of the Word of Christ and accompanying her daily prayers. Those adornments have typically come and gone without any self-consciousness, being largely transparent to the real business at hand; for they are not the Church's culture, properly speaking, but merely attendant circumstances. Sometimes, though, the adornments of a particular time and place have, by their use, been lifted out of their original context to persist in their connection to the Church's own unique culture. Where that has happened, they have been redefined by their association with the Liturgy, so as to become something new and different within the life of the Church than they were in the world. Clerical vestments are a case in point, as these developed from the ordinary clothing of antiquity.
Where the Church's liturgical culture is left intact and allowed to function as the heart and soul of the Church's life, then the trappings of the world in which she lives may come and go, whether by choice or by chance, without disrupting or disturbing the participation of the faithful. In fact, where the Church's liturgical culture is alive and well, its ritual structures and ceremonial gestures enable even foreign visitors to participate with relative ease. As important and beneficial as the vernacular is, it's not the only way or means of catchesis and confession. It simply isn't necessary for everything to be verbally transparent, instantly clear, or explained ad nauseam. Often the best way to learn a foreign language is to be immersed in it, "sink or swim," and to figure it out by trial and error. One finds out fast enough where the food and the potties are!
Rather than inculturating herself in the ways of the world, the Church should inculturate her members, her catechumens and her guests, in her own liturgical culture, which is rooted in the Gospel and adorned by a common confession of Christ.
08 April 2008
The Particular Power of the Crucifix
I love preaching on the Emmaus story (St. Luke 24), both because it is the Gospel for which my congregation is named, and because it is just an outstanding narrative. There is more in that one Gospel account than we could ever exhaust in a lifetime, and I discover some new insight, some new thing concerning Jesus of Nazareth, every time I am given to preach on it. This past week, I noticed in particular how the hiddenness of Christ really persists throughout the story.
It's not only at the first, while they are yet on the way, that the eyes of those first Emmaus disciples are prevented from recognizing Jesus. He's not invisible to them, but He is hidden under the Cross (also now in His Resurrection from the dead). Thus, their hopes for redemption have been disappointed by the very suffering and death of Christ that have accomplished their redemption. Even after He has begun to open the Scriptures to them, and He has explained the fulfillment of the Scriptures in His Cross and Passion, He then acts as though He were going further, moving on, leaving them behind in the dark. Isn't that the way it is for us all? But He would thereby teach us to pray, "Lord, abide with us," the very thing He desires and intends, in order to be received in faith. And when He has entered in, then He becomes the Host, and we the guests at His Table in His House. Except that, when He has finally revealed Himself to us there in the Breaking of the Bread, again He vanishes from our sight.
We do not yet see all things in subjection to Him. We do not yet see the glory of the Resurrection. We do not yet see or feel or experience that sin and death have been defeated and ended. What we see for now is Jesus, the Crucified One, made for a little while lower than the angels in order to taste death for all of us children of men, and thereby to enter His glory. He is not invisible, but He is still hidden under the Cross and suffering. So is His Church. So are we.
It is Jesus who travels with us on the way. It is Jesus who baptizes and catechizes us, and makes us His own disciples. It is Jesus who takes bread, give thanks, and distributes His Body to us. It is Jesus who forgives our sins. We can see all of these things happening, for they happen tangibly, outwardly, bodily. But our eyes do not perceive the truth or substance of it. That perception is by faith alone, and not by sight. It is by the Word and Spirit of Christ the Crucified, and that is a scandalous and contradictory thing.
Thus the Church on earth suffers and struggles and straggles along, beleaguered and picked on. Jesus is blasphemed and ridiculed and treated with contempt. We do not see that sin, death, the devil and hell are trampled under His feet, but find that He and we are always being trampled upon. Not that we are innocent of trampling Him ourselves. For rather what we see in our members, that is, in our flesh, is the raging war of constant temptation and daily falling short. God's own child, we gladly say it, but we do not see it. We are always sinning. And we are dying, always dying. Everywhere we look, within and without, it is only sin and death that we see and feel and experience. And when we look to Jesus, it appears that all our hopes are disappointed, that our faith is in vain. For there is the Man of death bearing the sins of the world. Who, then, shall save us, if our only Savior is subjected to such misery?
The Cross is a scandal because it screams the very opposite of that which it achieves. Here there is divine victory and divine glory in utter shame, public humiliation, and apparent defeat. That is what we see and outwardly perceive in the Cross. Or so we should. For that is how the Christ our Lord enters into His Glory, and it is by such a Cross that we enter into His Glory with Him, by death into life. That is the reality of the Cross in our lives of Christian discipleship. It is what we see and feel and experience in the world; and if not in the Cross of Christ, then forever.
But the world wants no part of such a Cross. Not the world out there, nor the world in us. So we have this popular Protestant fiction of an empty cross, as though it were now supposed to be a sign or symbol of the Resurrection. While Christ our Lord is revealed to us in the hiddenness of His Cross, the Cross has been hidden under the guise of a polite decoration, a pleasant adornment on the wall, or a popular piece of jewelry, without any reference, please, to bloody gore and bitter death. No sacred head now wounded here!
A case in point is a conversation I overheard the other day. I wasn't trying to listen, and for much of it I would have preferred not to listen, but there was no escaping. It was a striking conversation, and I am sorry that I didn't have the opportunity to congratulate the gentleman who engaged it with the woman traveling home from her mother's funeral. He communicated in such a clear and compassionate manner, with gentleness and persistence, with incredible patience and kindness. It was a humbling thing to witness such a forthright witnessing of the faith.
The airplane was more than fashionably late, so the conversation continued rather a long time, actually. It began with a sober reference to the funeral, a sigh, and a question concerning Jesus. From there it meandered all over the place, and it was a genuine apologetic encounter. In the course of the discussion, it came out that this woman is a very disenchanted, downright bitter, former Roman Catholic. She grew up with it, and has no use for it. Nor does she have much use for Christianity or "religion" of any sort, and she wavered back and forth on whether there is a God or not. She likes "Jesus" alright, but not the Jesus of the Holy Scriptures. "All we need is love," that's the message of her "Jesus." Sounds good on the surface, but tragically not so. The point of her "Jesus" is that we should all find "god" within ourselves, in being kind and caring to each other. "Truth" and "reality" this woman regards as so entirely subjective and relative that the possibility of being "wrong" is simply impossible in her view. Nothing really matters, and what if it did.
The thing that really hit me was her candid evaluation of the Roman Catholic Church and of the funeral she had just attended. She was absolutely repulsed by the Cross and Passion, by all the talk of death and blood, and especially by the crucifixes and other such artistic portrayals of Christ in His suffering. She wants nothing of it. She considers it gruesome and grotesque, absolutely tasteless, and thoroughly useless.
I suppose it will sound callous and cold (though I don't mean it to be), but that is exactly how the Cross ought to hit a person: right between the eyes and straight through the heart. It's not supposed to be pretty and pleasant. There is a place for beautiful crosses, which paradoxcially confess the glory of the Christ in His innocent suffering and death. But we lose the paradox, and the glory along with it, if the Cross becomes too easy on the eyes. Then it's no longer a confession of the hidden truth, but a deception and a lie concerning a make-believe "Jesus." No thanks. That sort of "Jesus" doesn't exist; he can't and won't save anyone. That poor, misguided, grieving, angry woman is confused, and she is wrong. I'm glad that Christian gentleman kindly and clearly told her the truth and spoke forthrightly to her. I hope and pray that the Word and Spirit of God will bring her to repentance and to faith in Christ the Crucified.
In the meantime, I am more convinced than ever that a proper sort of crucifix, the more realistic the better, is far and away superior to a barren cross. It sets before our eyes Christ Crucified, as St. Paul does in his preaching, and as every preacher of the Gospel is called and sent to do. Set upon the Altar, historically, the crucifix has been a confession of the true body and blood of Christ Jesus that are given and poured out for us Christians to eat and to drink in the Holy Communion. In the Sacrament, the body of Christ is given from the Cross into our mouths, His blood outpoured from His wounded hands and feet and side into the chalice of salvation from which we drink. But even apart from the Sacrament of the Altar, a crucifix proclaims that here is our God, whom we worship and adore, and precisely in this way is He our Savior. There shouldn't be any wiggle room that permits or tolerates the prospect of any other way or means of life and salvation.
One of the first times it ever dawned on me, how powerful a sign the crucifix is, was shortly after LaRena and I were married. This would have been going on twenty-three years ago. She did not grow up Lutheran, but she had been well catechized in basic Lutheran doctrine and had come to know and love the Gospel very well. I didn't realize, however, that our church back home did not have a crucifix. Thus, the first time we approached the chapel at Concordia, Seward, I could feel her hand in mind get tense, and I could sense that she was in a state of sudden shock at the sight of a large crucifix on the wall by the entrance. "What is that doing here?" she asked me. Inside, she was suddenly questioning what she'd gotten herself into. She had been taught that only Roman Catholics made use of the crucifix, and that they did so as a denial of the Resurrection; which isn't true, of course, on either count, but so she had been told. It made her first Lutheran encounter with a crucifix all the more unsettling and provocative, and that was ultimately for the good. Now she would not trade a crucifix for anything less, because she has come to recognize the Passion of the Christ as the very heartbeat of the Gospel and of the Christian faith and life.
Although I had not noticed the absence of a crucifix at our home church, I could readily understand the particular power of the crucifix, whether for positive piety or scandalous upset. As I little boy, I remember coming across a drawing that my Dad had done of the crucifixion, and I still recall being profoundly moved by that picture, and somehow drawn to it. Little children really seem to get this, actually, like so many other things pertaining to the Gospel of Jesus.
When I would go to the seminary library with my very little Zachary in tow, barely beyond a babe in arms, there was a large crucifix on the wall just inside the door. As often as we would come in or go out of the library, he would tug and pull me toward that crucifix and gaze upon it in wonder. As soon as he was old enough to talk, he would confess that it was Jesus on that cross. And Zach knew that there was something incredibly important about it, that this was something Jesus had done for him, and that it was hard and really hurt. Little boys know all about ouchies. So Zach would have me hold him up to that crucifix on the wall, so that he could lean in to kiss Jesus' ouchies. There's something deeper than outward piety involved in that kind of love and affection on the part of a toddler who was otherwise run and gun and rough and tumble. No empty cross in the world could have catechized him in that way.
The little children at Emmaus get it, too. Normally my pectoral crucifix is under my chasuble when the people come out of church and greet me. But it occasionally happens that I greet the people with my crucifix in view, and it never fails that the youngest children are drawn to it with rapt attention. The Son of Man, when He is lifted up, shall thus draw all men to Himself, no less so the nursing infants and rambunctious toddlers.
Don't anyone tell me that they don't know what it's all about, either. Indulge this Dad in one more story, this time about my DoRena Beana. She was three, and this was also back in my seminary days. Both she and Zach spent a lot of time at the seminary daycare, while LaRena was working and I was in class. That year, for Easter I suppose, they and all their daycare peers received little handmade crosses from a ladies' group somewhere, which was nice. These crosses were made of plaster, hand painted, and decorated with flowers. Fine and good.
Around that same time, I had DoRena with me as I was out shopping for a crucifix to display in our home. There was this great Roman Catholic church supply store in Fort Wayne, and it had an impressive array of crucifixes for sale, case after case of them all along the wall. So I'm taking my time and looking them over, and DoRena is quietly taking all of this in. Finally, she tugs at my arm and asks if she can get a cross, too. Silly me, being a poor seminary student, the first thing I say is, "You just got that cross at the daycare, remember." But I never could dissuade my Beanie when she had her heart and mind set on something. And she was exactly right in this case, as she demonstrated beautifully. "Daddy," she said, "that cross has flowers on it. But flowers didn't die for me. Jesus died for me. I want a cross with Jesus on it." She got one.
It's possible, no doubt, to become cavalier and nonchalent about the crucifix. It can be used as nothing more than artwork or "Goth" jewelry. Our foolish hearts are too easily jaded and slow to believe the Gospel, even when it's in our face. Our eyes may prevent us from perceiving what is true. Half the time we may forget to care, and the other half we may just stand still looking sad. It is never anything other than the Word and Spirit of Christ the Crucified that will open our ears to hear, our minds to comprehend, and our hearts to believe the divine glory of His Cross. It is always a scandal, whether that Word of the Cross is proclaimed verbally or visually, but a crucifix says it more clearly than an empty cross.
An empty cross is fine, so long as it points us to the One who was crucified. An empty cross that bears no connection to the body of Jesus would finally be nothing but a pointless relic or a superstitious talisman. A crucifix tells it like it is, like it or not. In doing so, it brings to bear the real Gospel upon our lives under the Cross in the midst of sin and death. It brings balm and healing from the wounds of Jesus Christ to our troubled hearts and minds.
That is what we see. Not yet all things in subjection to Him, but Jesus made lower than the angels, who humbled Himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross.
It's not only at the first, while they are yet on the way, that the eyes of those first Emmaus disciples are prevented from recognizing Jesus. He's not invisible to them, but He is hidden under the Cross (also now in His Resurrection from the dead). Thus, their hopes for redemption have been disappointed by the very suffering and death of Christ that have accomplished their redemption. Even after He has begun to open the Scriptures to them, and He has explained the fulfillment of the Scriptures in His Cross and Passion, He then acts as though He were going further, moving on, leaving them behind in the dark. Isn't that the way it is for us all? But He would thereby teach us to pray, "Lord, abide with us," the very thing He desires and intends, in order to be received in faith. And when He has entered in, then He becomes the Host, and we the guests at His Table in His House. Except that, when He has finally revealed Himself to us there in the Breaking of the Bread, again He vanishes from our sight.
We do not yet see all things in subjection to Him. We do not yet see the glory of the Resurrection. We do not yet see or feel or experience that sin and death have been defeated and ended. What we see for now is Jesus, the Crucified One, made for a little while lower than the angels in order to taste death for all of us children of men, and thereby to enter His glory. He is not invisible, but He is still hidden under the Cross and suffering. So is His Church. So are we.
It is Jesus who travels with us on the way. It is Jesus who baptizes and catechizes us, and makes us His own disciples. It is Jesus who takes bread, give thanks, and distributes His Body to us. It is Jesus who forgives our sins. We can see all of these things happening, for they happen tangibly, outwardly, bodily. But our eyes do not perceive the truth or substance of it. That perception is by faith alone, and not by sight. It is by the Word and Spirit of Christ the Crucified, and that is a scandalous and contradictory thing.
Thus the Church on earth suffers and struggles and straggles along, beleaguered and picked on. Jesus is blasphemed and ridiculed and treated with contempt. We do not see that sin, death, the devil and hell are trampled under His feet, but find that He and we are always being trampled upon. Not that we are innocent of trampling Him ourselves. For rather what we see in our members, that is, in our flesh, is the raging war of constant temptation and daily falling short. God's own child, we gladly say it, but we do not see it. We are always sinning. And we are dying, always dying. Everywhere we look, within and without, it is only sin and death that we see and feel and experience. And when we look to Jesus, it appears that all our hopes are disappointed, that our faith is in vain. For there is the Man of death bearing the sins of the world. Who, then, shall save us, if our only Savior is subjected to such misery?
The Cross is a scandal because it screams the very opposite of that which it achieves. Here there is divine victory and divine glory in utter shame, public humiliation, and apparent defeat. That is what we see and outwardly perceive in the Cross. Or so we should. For that is how the Christ our Lord enters into His Glory, and it is by such a Cross that we enter into His Glory with Him, by death into life. That is the reality of the Cross in our lives of Christian discipleship. It is what we see and feel and experience in the world; and if not in the Cross of Christ, then forever.
But the world wants no part of such a Cross. Not the world out there, nor the world in us. So we have this popular Protestant fiction of an empty cross, as though it were now supposed to be a sign or symbol of the Resurrection. While Christ our Lord is revealed to us in the hiddenness of His Cross, the Cross has been hidden under the guise of a polite decoration, a pleasant adornment on the wall, or a popular piece of jewelry, without any reference, please, to bloody gore and bitter death. No sacred head now wounded here!
A case in point is a conversation I overheard the other day. I wasn't trying to listen, and for much of it I would have preferred not to listen, but there was no escaping. It was a striking conversation, and I am sorry that I didn't have the opportunity to congratulate the gentleman who engaged it with the woman traveling home from her mother's funeral. He communicated in such a clear and compassionate manner, with gentleness and persistence, with incredible patience and kindness. It was a humbling thing to witness such a forthright witnessing of the faith.
The airplane was more than fashionably late, so the conversation continued rather a long time, actually. It began with a sober reference to the funeral, a sigh, and a question concerning Jesus. From there it meandered all over the place, and it was a genuine apologetic encounter. In the course of the discussion, it came out that this woman is a very disenchanted, downright bitter, former Roman Catholic. She grew up with it, and has no use for it. Nor does she have much use for Christianity or "religion" of any sort, and she wavered back and forth on whether there is a God or not. She likes "Jesus" alright, but not the Jesus of the Holy Scriptures. "All we need is love," that's the message of her "Jesus." Sounds good on the surface, but tragically not so. The point of her "Jesus" is that we should all find "god" within ourselves, in being kind and caring to each other. "Truth" and "reality" this woman regards as so entirely subjective and relative that the possibility of being "wrong" is simply impossible in her view. Nothing really matters, and what if it did.
The thing that really hit me was her candid evaluation of the Roman Catholic Church and of the funeral she had just attended. She was absolutely repulsed by the Cross and Passion, by all the talk of death and blood, and especially by the crucifixes and other such artistic portrayals of Christ in His suffering. She wants nothing of it. She considers it gruesome and grotesque, absolutely tasteless, and thoroughly useless.
I suppose it will sound callous and cold (though I don't mean it to be), but that is exactly how the Cross ought to hit a person: right between the eyes and straight through the heart. It's not supposed to be pretty and pleasant. There is a place for beautiful crosses, which paradoxcially confess the glory of the Christ in His innocent suffering and death. But we lose the paradox, and the glory along with it, if the Cross becomes too easy on the eyes. Then it's no longer a confession of the hidden truth, but a deception and a lie concerning a make-believe "Jesus." No thanks. That sort of "Jesus" doesn't exist; he can't and won't save anyone. That poor, misguided, grieving, angry woman is confused, and she is wrong. I'm glad that Christian gentleman kindly and clearly told her the truth and spoke forthrightly to her. I hope and pray that the Word and Spirit of God will bring her to repentance and to faith in Christ the Crucified.
In the meantime, I am more convinced than ever that a proper sort of crucifix, the more realistic the better, is far and away superior to a barren cross. It sets before our eyes Christ Crucified, as St. Paul does in his preaching, and as every preacher of the Gospel is called and sent to do. Set upon the Altar, historically, the crucifix has been a confession of the true body and blood of Christ Jesus that are given and poured out for us Christians to eat and to drink in the Holy Communion. In the Sacrament, the body of Christ is given from the Cross into our mouths, His blood outpoured from His wounded hands and feet and side into the chalice of salvation from which we drink. But even apart from the Sacrament of the Altar, a crucifix proclaims that here is our God, whom we worship and adore, and precisely in this way is He our Savior. There shouldn't be any wiggle room that permits or tolerates the prospect of any other way or means of life and salvation.
One of the first times it ever dawned on me, how powerful a sign the crucifix is, was shortly after LaRena and I were married. This would have been going on twenty-three years ago. She did not grow up Lutheran, but she had been well catechized in basic Lutheran doctrine and had come to know and love the Gospel very well. I didn't realize, however, that our church back home did not have a crucifix. Thus, the first time we approached the chapel at Concordia, Seward, I could feel her hand in mind get tense, and I could sense that she was in a state of sudden shock at the sight of a large crucifix on the wall by the entrance. "What is that doing here?" she asked me. Inside, she was suddenly questioning what she'd gotten herself into. She had been taught that only Roman Catholics made use of the crucifix, and that they did so as a denial of the Resurrection; which isn't true, of course, on either count, but so she had been told. It made her first Lutheran encounter with a crucifix all the more unsettling and provocative, and that was ultimately for the good. Now she would not trade a crucifix for anything less, because she has come to recognize the Passion of the Christ as the very heartbeat of the Gospel and of the Christian faith and life.
Although I had not noticed the absence of a crucifix at our home church, I could readily understand the particular power of the crucifix, whether for positive piety or scandalous upset. As I little boy, I remember coming across a drawing that my Dad had done of the crucifixion, and I still recall being profoundly moved by that picture, and somehow drawn to it. Little children really seem to get this, actually, like so many other things pertaining to the Gospel of Jesus.
When I would go to the seminary library with my very little Zachary in tow, barely beyond a babe in arms, there was a large crucifix on the wall just inside the door. As often as we would come in or go out of the library, he would tug and pull me toward that crucifix and gaze upon it in wonder. As soon as he was old enough to talk, he would confess that it was Jesus on that cross. And Zach knew that there was something incredibly important about it, that this was something Jesus had done for him, and that it was hard and really hurt. Little boys know all about ouchies. So Zach would have me hold him up to that crucifix on the wall, so that he could lean in to kiss Jesus' ouchies. There's something deeper than outward piety involved in that kind of love and affection on the part of a toddler who was otherwise run and gun and rough and tumble. No empty cross in the world could have catechized him in that way.
The little children at Emmaus get it, too. Normally my pectoral crucifix is under my chasuble when the people come out of church and greet me. But it occasionally happens that I greet the people with my crucifix in view, and it never fails that the youngest children are drawn to it with rapt attention. The Son of Man, when He is lifted up, shall thus draw all men to Himself, no less so the nursing infants and rambunctious toddlers.
Don't anyone tell me that they don't know what it's all about, either. Indulge this Dad in one more story, this time about my DoRena Beana. She was three, and this was also back in my seminary days. Both she and Zach spent a lot of time at the seminary daycare, while LaRena was working and I was in class. That year, for Easter I suppose, they and all their daycare peers received little handmade crosses from a ladies' group somewhere, which was nice. These crosses were made of plaster, hand painted, and decorated with flowers. Fine and good.
Around that same time, I had DoRena with me as I was out shopping for a crucifix to display in our home. There was this great Roman Catholic church supply store in Fort Wayne, and it had an impressive array of crucifixes for sale, case after case of them all along the wall. So I'm taking my time and looking them over, and DoRena is quietly taking all of this in. Finally, she tugs at my arm and asks if she can get a cross, too. Silly me, being a poor seminary student, the first thing I say is, "You just got that cross at the daycare, remember." But I never could dissuade my Beanie when she had her heart and mind set on something. And she was exactly right in this case, as she demonstrated beautifully. "Daddy," she said, "that cross has flowers on it. But flowers didn't die for me. Jesus died for me. I want a cross with Jesus on it." She got one.
It's possible, no doubt, to become cavalier and nonchalent about the crucifix. It can be used as nothing more than artwork or "Goth" jewelry. Our foolish hearts are too easily jaded and slow to believe the Gospel, even when it's in our face. Our eyes may prevent us from perceiving what is true. Half the time we may forget to care, and the other half we may just stand still looking sad. It is never anything other than the Word and Spirit of Christ the Crucified that will open our ears to hear, our minds to comprehend, and our hearts to believe the divine glory of His Cross. It is always a scandal, whether that Word of the Cross is proclaimed verbally or visually, but a crucifix says it more clearly than an empty cross.
An empty cross is fine, so long as it points us to the One who was crucified. An empty cross that bears no connection to the body of Jesus would finally be nothing but a pointless relic or a superstitious talisman. A crucifix tells it like it is, like it or not. In doing so, it brings to bear the real Gospel upon our lives under the Cross in the midst of sin and death. It brings balm and healing from the wounds of Jesus Christ to our troubled hearts and minds.
That is what we see. Not yet all things in subjection to Him, but Jesus made lower than the angels, who humbled Himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross.
The Barren Free Woman Gives Birth to Many, the Prolific Slave Is Cast Out
I've recently enjoyed and appreciated a less familiar portion of Luther's lectures on Galatians, in which he comments at length on St. Paul's discussion of Hagar and Sarah (Galatians 4:21-27). Especially in view of recent events in my own life, and in light of recent synodical happenings, I find Luther's catechesis on this Word of the Lord to be timely and poignant, encouraging and comforting. It's a longer passage, true, and Luther can go on a bit on certain points, but his proclamation of the Gospel under the weight and burden of the Cross is worth it:
"The Jerusalem that is above, that is, the heavenly Jerusalem, is the church here in time. It is not, by anagoge, our fatherland in the life to come or the church triumphant, as the idle and unlettered monks and scholastic doctors imagined. Paul says (Galatians 4:26) that the old, earthly Jerusalem pertains to Hagar; that she is in slavery with her children; that she has been abolished; and that a new and heavenly Jerusalem, which is lordly and free, has been divinely established, not in heaven but on earth, to be the mother of us all, of whom we have been born and are being born every day. Therefore it is necessary that this mother of ours, like the birth she gives, be on earth among men; yet she gives birth in the Spirit, by the Ministry of the Word and of the Sacraments, not physically.
"I say this to keep us from being led astray by our thoughts into heaven. We should know that Paul is contrasting the Jerusalem that is above with the earthly Jerusalem, not spatially but spiritually. Spiritual things are distinct from physical or earthly things. Spiritual things are ‘above’; earthly things are ‘below.’ Thus the Jerusalem that is above is distinguished from the physical and temporal Jerusalem that is below, as I have said, not spatially but spiritually. For the spiritual Jerusalem, which began in the physical Jerusalem, has no prescribed location, as the one in Judea does; but it is scattered throughout the world and can be in Babylonia, Turkey, Tartary, Scythia, India, Italy, or Germany, on the islands of the sea, on mountains, in valleys, and everywhere in the world where there are men who have the Gospel and believe in Christ.
"Therefore Sarah, or Jerusalem, our free mother, is the church, the bride of Christ who gives birth to all. She goes on giving birth to children without interruption until the end of the world, as long as she exercises the Ministry of the Word, that is, as long as she preaches and propagates the Gospel; for this is what it means for her to give birth. Now she teaches the Gospel in such a way that we are set free from the curse of the Law, from sin, death, and other evils, not through the Law and works but through Christ. Therefore the Jerusalem that is above, that is, the church, is not subject to the Law and works; but she is free and is a mother without Law, sin, or death. And as the mother is, so are the children to whom she gives birth.
"Therefore this allegory teaches in a beautiful way that the church should not do anything but preach the Gospel correctly and purely and thus give birth to children. In this way we are all fathers and children to one another, for we are born of one another. I was born of others through the Gospel, and now I am a father to still others, who will be fathers to still others; and so this giving birth will endure until the end of the world. But I am speaking, not about Hagar’s giving birth, who gives birth to slaves through the Law, but about free Sarah’s, who gives birth to heirs without the Law, without works or their own efforts. That Isaac is the heir and Ishmael is not, even though both are genuine sons of Abraham, takes place through the Word of promise, specifically: ‘Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac’ (Gen. 17:19). Sarah understood this very well, and therefore she said: ‘Cast out this slave woman with her son’ (Gen. 21:10). Therefore just as Isaac has the inheritance from his father solely on the basis of the promise and of his birth, without the Law or works, so we are born as heirs by Sarah, the free woman, that is, by the church. She teaches, cherishes, and carries us in her womb, her bosom, and her arms; she shapes and perfects us to the form of Christ, until we grow into perfect manhood (Eph. 4:13). Thus everything happens through the Ministry of the Word. It is the duty of the free woman to go on giving birth to children endlessly, that is, to sons who know that they are justified by faith, not by the Law.
"‘For it is written: Rejoice, O barren one that does not bear; break forth and shout, thou who art not in travail; for the desolate hath more children than she who hath a husband’ (Galatians 4:27). Paul quotes this passage, which is completely allegorical, from the Prophet Isaiah. It is written, he says, that the mother of many children, who has a husband, must grow sick and perish, while the barren one, who does not bear, must have very many children. Hannah sings the same way in her canticle, from which Isaiah took this prophecy: ‘The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength. Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger. The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn’ (1 Samuel 2:4–5). It is an amazing thing, she says: the one who was prolific will be barren, and the one who was barren will be prolific. Those who were mighty, satisfied, alive, righteous, blessed, rich, and glorious will be feeble, hungry, sentenced to death, sinful, condemned, poor, and shameful; and, on the other hand, the feeble and the hungry will be mighty and satisfied.
"With this allegory from the Prophet Isaiah, Paul shows the difference between Hagar and Sarah, that is, between the synagogue and the church, or between the Law and the Gospel. It is as though he were saying: ‘The Law, the husband of a prolific woman, that is, of the synagogue, gives birth to very many children.’ For men of every age, not only the ignorant but those who are the wisest and best — in other words, the whole human race with the exception of the children of the free woman — do not see or recognize any other righteousness, nor to say any more excellent righteousness, than that of the Law. (Now under the term ‘Law’ I am including all laws, both human and divine.) Therefore if they follow the Law and perform its outward works, they think they are righteous. All such men are slaves, not free men, because they are sons of Hagar, who gives birth into slavery. If they are slaves, they do not share in the inheritance but are cast out of the house. ‘The slaves do not continue in the house forever’ (John 8:35); in fact, they have now been thrown out of the kingdom of grace and freedom. ‘He who does not believe is condemned already’ (John 3:18). Therefore they remain under the curse of the Law, under sin, death, and the power of the devil, under the wrath and judgment of God.
"Now if even the Moral Law of God, the Decalogue, gives birth only to slaves — that is, does not justify but only terrifies, accuses, condemns, and brings consciences to the point of despair — how, I ask you, could the laws of the pope or human tradition justify? Therefore anyone who teaches or urges either the Law of God or human traditions as something necessary for righteousness in the sight of God does nothing other than give birth to slaves. And yet such theologians are regarded as the best; they earn the applause of the world and are the most prolific mothers, that is, have an infinite number of disciples. Since reason does not understand what faith and true godliness are, it neglects and despises them. Naturally, it is impressed by superstition and hypocrisy, that is, by the righteousness of works, which is so brilliant and successful that it is the mighty empress of the universe. Therefore those who teach the righteousness of works on the basis of the Law give birth to many sons, but all of these are slaves who will be thrown out of the house and condemned.
"Sarah, the free woman, on the other hand, that is, the true church, seems to be barren; for the Gospel, the Word of the cross, which the church preaches, is not as brilliant as is the teaching about the Law and works, and therefore it has few pupils who cling to it. Besides, it has the reputation of forbidding good works, making men idle and faint, stirring up heresies and sedition, and being the cause of every evil. Therefore it does not seem to have any success or prosperity; but everything seems to be filled with barrenness, waste, and despair. Hence the wicked are fully persuaded that the church will soon perish along with its doctrine. The Jews were altogether sure that the church established by the Apostles would soon be deserted. To it they gave the hateful name ‘sect’; for so they spoke to Paul: ‘With regard to this sect we know that everywhere it is spoken against’ (Acts 28:22). Similarly today, how often, I ask you, have our opponents rejoiced in a false hope that we would surely be crushed at this or that time? Christ and the Apostles were crushed; but when they were dead, the teaching of the Gospel was spread more widely than when they were alive. Thus our opponents can crush us, but ‘the Word of the Lord will abide forever’ (1 Peter 1:25). Regardless of how barren and deserted the church of Christ seems, therefore, or of how much it is said to teach heretical and seditious doctrine, it alone gives birth to children and heirs, through the Ministry of the Word.
"Therefore the Prophet grants that the church is engaged in a conflict; otherwise he would not urge her to rejoice. He grants that in the eyes of the world she is barren; otherwise he would not call her a barren and desolate one that does not bear. But he says that she is prolific in the eyes of God. Therefore he tells her to rejoice. It is as though he were to say: ‘Desolate and barren, you do not have the Law as your husband; therefore you do not have children either. But rejoice. For even though you are deprived of the husband Law, like a virgin of marriageable age who has been deserted (he does not want to call her a widow), who would have a husband if he had not deserted her or had not been killed — you, I say, who are desolate and deserted by the husband Law and are not subject to marriage with the Law, will be the mother of an infinite number of children.’ Therefore the church of the new covenant is completely without Law so far as her conscience is concerned. In the eyes of the world, therefore, she seems to be deserted. But even though she appears barren, without Law or works, yet in the eyes of God she is very prolific, giving birth to an endless number of children, and free ones at that. How? Not through the husband Law but through the Word and the Spirit of Christ, given through the Gospel, she conceives, bears, and rears her children.
"With this allegory, then, Paul shows the distinction between the Law and the Gospel very clearly: first, when he calls Hagar the old covenant and Sarah the new; next, when he calls the former a slave and the latter a free woman; finally, when he says that the one who has a husband and is prolific will grow ill and will be cast out of the house with her children, but that the one who is barren and desolate will become prolific and will produce an infinite number of children, all of whom will be heirs. These are the essential differences between the people of faith and the people of the Law. The people of faith does not have the Law as its husband; it is not in slavery; it was not born of the present Jerusalem as its mother. But it has the promise; it is free; and it is born of Sarah, the free woman.
"Therefore Paul separates the spiritual people of the new covenant from the Law when he says that this people is not the child of Hagar, who had a husband, but of Sarah, the free woman, who does not know the Law. In this way he sets the people of faith far above and beyond the Law. But if it is above and beyond the Law, then it is justified, not by the Law and works but solely by its spiritual birth, that is, by faith. For spiritual birth is nothing other than faith. Now just as the people of grace neither has the Law nor can have it, so the people of the Law neither has grace nor can have it; for it is impossible for Law and grace to exist together. Either we must be justified by faith and lose the righteousness of the Law, or we must be justified by the Law and lose grace and the righteousness of faith. It is a bitter and tragic loss when we keep the Law and lose grace. On the other hand, it is a fortunate and saving loss when we keep grace and lose the Law.
"Seeing that Paul sets this forth with the greatest care, we are very careful to show the difference between the Law and the Gospel clearly. This is very easy so far as the words themselves are concerned. For who does not see that Hagar is not Sarah and that Sarah is not Hagar, or that Ishmael neither is nor has what Isaac is and has? This can be determined easily. But in profound terrors and in the agony of death, when the conscience struggles with the judgment of God, to be able to say with firm confidence: ‘The Law does not apply to me at all, because my mother is Sarah, who gives birth, not to salves but to free children and heirs’ — that is the most difficult thing there is.
"With this quotation from Isaiah, Paul proved that Sarah is the true mother, who gives birth to free children and heirs; and, on the other hand, that Hagar does indeed give birth to many children, but that they are slaves, who must be cast out of the house. Besides, since this passage speaks about the abrogation of the Law and about Christian liberty, it must be considered carefully. For just as it is our highest and most important doctrine to know that we are justified and saved through Christ, so, by antithesis, it is very important to have the correct understanding of the abrogation of the Law. The knowledge that the Law has been abrogated is of great value for confirming our teaching about faith and for providing a sure comfort for consciences, especially in their deep anxiety.
"This passage in Isaiah about the free mother who gives birth to free children teaches that for those who believe in Christ the entire Law, with all its terrors and troubles, has been abrogated. Therefore it is a truly outstanding and comforting passage, urging that the barren and desolate one rejoice, even though, according to the Law, she should rather be ridiculed or pitied. For according to the law barren women were accursed. But the Holy Spirit reverses this sentence and pronounces the barren one praiseworthy and blessed, but the prolific one who has children He pronounces accursed. Regardless of how desolate and barren Sarah, that is, the church, may appear to be in the eyes of the world because she does not have Law and works, she is, according to the testimony of the Prophet, the prolific mother of an infinite number of children in the eyes of God. By contrast, regardless of how great and abundant the fertility and bearing may be under Hagar, there are no children left; for the children of the slave woman are cast out of the house together with their mother, and they do not receive the inheritance with the children of the free woman, as Paul says further on (Galatians 4:30).
"Since, therefore, we are children of the free woman, the Law, our old husband (Rom. 7:1–6), has been abolished; as long as it had dominion over us, it was impossible for us to give birth in the Spirit to children who knew grace, but they remained slaves. When the Law has dominion, men are not idle. They work hard, and they bear the burden of the day and the scorching heat (Matt. 20:12). They bear and give birth to many children, but both the parents and the children are illegitimate and do not belong to a free mother. Therefore they are eventually cast out of the inheritance with Ishmael; they die and are damned. Hence it is impossible for men to be justified and saved through the Law. There is, of course, much labor and birth in the Law; but none of this grants the inheritance. Therefore the Law, with all its children, must be cast out; that is, cursed be any doctrine, life, or religion that strives to achieve righteousness in the sight of God by means of the Law or works.
"When Thomas Aquinas and other scholastics speak about the abrogation of the Law, they say that after Christ the civil and ceremonial laws are fatal, and that therefore they have now been abrogated, but not the moral laws. These men do not know what they are saying. When you want to speak about the abrogation of the Law, discuss chiefly the law in the proper sense of the word — the Law in the spiritual sense. Include the entire Law, without distinguishing between the civil, the ceremonial, and the moral. For when Paul says that through Christ we have been set free from the curse of the Law (Gal. 3:13), he is certainly speaking about the entire Law, and especially about the Moral Law. It alone actually accuses, curses, and condemns consciences; but the other two kinds do not. Therefore we say that the Law of the Decalogue has no right to accuse and terrify the conscience in which Christ reigns through grace, for Christ has made this right obsolete.
"This does not mean that the conscience does not feel the terrors of the Law at all. Of course it feels them. But it means that the conscience cannot be condemned and brought to the point of despair by such things. For ‘there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus’ (Rom. 8:1); again: ‘If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’ (John 8:36). Regardless of how terrified the Christian is by the Law and how much he acknowledges his sin, he does not despair; for he believes in Christ, into whom he has been baptized and through whom he has the forgiveness of sins. Now if our sin has been forgiven through Christ Himself, the Lord of the Law — and forgiven by His having given Himself for it — the Law, that slave, no longer has a right to accuse and condemn us because of our sin; for this has been forgiven, and we have become free by the deliverance of the Son. Therefore the entire Law has been abrogated for believers in Christ.
"‘But I have not done anything good and am not doing anything now!’ Here you neither can nor must do anything. Merely listen to this joyful message, which the Spirit is bringing to you through the Prophet: ‘Rejoice, O barren one that dost not bear!’ It is as though He were saying: ‘Why are you so sorrowful when you have no reason to be sorrowful?’ ‘But I am barren and desolate.’ ‘Regardless of how much you are that way, since you have no righteousness on the basis of Law, Christ is still your Righteousness. He became a curse for you; He has redeemed you from the curse of the Law (Gal. 3:13). If you believe in Him, the Law is dead for you. As much as Christ is greater than the Law, that much better is the righteousness you have than the righteousness of the Law. Moreover, you are not barren either, because you have more children than she who has a husband.’
"A second kind of abrogation of the Law, an outward one, is that the political laws of Moses do not apply to us at all. Therefore we should not restore them to the courthouse or chain ourselves to them in some superstitious way, as some men who were ignorant of this liberty did several years ago. Nevertheless, although the Gospel does not subject us to the civil laws of Moses, it does not completely set us free from obedience to all political laws; but in this bodily life it subjects us to the laws of the state in which we live, and it commands everyone to obey his magistrate and his laws, ‘not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience’ (1 Peter 2:13–14; Rom. 13:5). Nor would it be a sin if the emperor used some of the civil laws of Moses; in fact, it would be a good idea if he did. Therefore the sophists are in error when they imagine that after Christ the civil laws of Moses are fatal to us.
"We are not bound by the ceremonies of Moses either, much less by those of the pope. But because this life in the body cannot be completely without ceremonies and rituals, since there must be some sort of discipline, the Gospel permits ordinances to be established in the church regarding festivals, prescribed times, prescribed places, etc., so that the people may know on what day, at what time, and in what place they should gather to hear the Word of God. It permits the appointment of certain lessons, just as in school, especially for the sake of children and uneducated people, so that they can be taught more easily. But it permits such things to be established with the purpose that all things in the church should be done decently and in order (1 Cor. 14:40), not that those who observe such ordinances should merit the forgiveness of sins. Besides, they can be omitted without sinning, so long as this is done without offending the weak. Nor is it true that after Christ has been revealed, the ceremonies of Moses are fatal; otherwise Christians would sin when they observe the festivals of Easter and Pentecost, which the ancient church established on the basis of the example of the Law of Moses, although in a far different manner and for a different purpose.
"But here Paul is speaking principally about the abrogation of the Moral Law, and this should be considered carefully. He is arguing against the righteousness of the Law in order to establish the righteousness of faith, and he concludes: ‘If grace alone or faith in Christ justifies, then the entire Law has been completely abrogated.’ He supports this by the testimony of Isaiah, which invites the barren and desolate church to rejoice. She seems not to have any children of her own or any hope of having children. That is, she does not have disciples and does not receive any applause, because she preaches the Word of the cross about Christ the Crucified, in opposition to all the wisdom of the flesh. ‘But, O barren one,’ says the Prophet, ‘do not let any of this bother or disturb you. Rather exult and rejoice, for the desolate has more children than she who has a husband. That is, the one who has a husband and many children will grow ill. But you, the barren and desolate one, will abound with children.’
"Paul calls the church barren because her children are not born by means of the Law or works or any human efforts of powers but in the Holy Spirit through the Word of faith. This is purely a matter of being born, not of doing any works. Those who are prolific, on the other hand, labor and strain greatly in travail; this is purely a matter of doing works, not of giving birth. But those who try to achieve the status of sons and heirs by the righteousness of the Law or by their own righteousness are slaves, who will never receive the inheritance even though they work themselves to death with their great effort; for they are trying, contrary to the will of God, to achieve by their own works what God wants to grant to believers by sheer grace for Christ’s sake. Believers do good works; but they do not become sons and heirs through this, for this has been granted to them by their birth. Now that they have become sons for Christ’s sake, they glorify God with their good deeds and help their neighbor."
(Luther’s Works, Volume 26, CPH 1963, alt.)
"The Jerusalem that is above, that is, the heavenly Jerusalem, is the church here in time. It is not, by anagoge, our fatherland in the life to come or the church triumphant, as the idle and unlettered monks and scholastic doctors imagined. Paul says (Galatians 4:26) that the old, earthly Jerusalem pertains to Hagar; that she is in slavery with her children; that she has been abolished; and that a new and heavenly Jerusalem, which is lordly and free, has been divinely established, not in heaven but on earth, to be the mother of us all, of whom we have been born and are being born every day. Therefore it is necessary that this mother of ours, like the birth she gives, be on earth among men; yet she gives birth in the Spirit, by the Ministry of the Word and of the Sacraments, not physically.
"I say this to keep us from being led astray by our thoughts into heaven. We should know that Paul is contrasting the Jerusalem that is above with the earthly Jerusalem, not spatially but spiritually. Spiritual things are distinct from physical or earthly things. Spiritual things are ‘above’; earthly things are ‘below.’ Thus the Jerusalem that is above is distinguished from the physical and temporal Jerusalem that is below, as I have said, not spatially but spiritually. For the spiritual Jerusalem, which began in the physical Jerusalem, has no prescribed location, as the one in Judea does; but it is scattered throughout the world and can be in Babylonia, Turkey, Tartary, Scythia, India, Italy, or Germany, on the islands of the sea, on mountains, in valleys, and everywhere in the world where there are men who have the Gospel and believe in Christ.
"Therefore Sarah, or Jerusalem, our free mother, is the church, the bride of Christ who gives birth to all. She goes on giving birth to children without interruption until the end of the world, as long as she exercises the Ministry of the Word, that is, as long as she preaches and propagates the Gospel; for this is what it means for her to give birth. Now she teaches the Gospel in such a way that we are set free from the curse of the Law, from sin, death, and other evils, not through the Law and works but through Christ. Therefore the Jerusalem that is above, that is, the church, is not subject to the Law and works; but she is free and is a mother without Law, sin, or death. And as the mother is, so are the children to whom she gives birth.
"Therefore this allegory teaches in a beautiful way that the church should not do anything but preach the Gospel correctly and purely and thus give birth to children. In this way we are all fathers and children to one another, for we are born of one another. I was born of others through the Gospel, and now I am a father to still others, who will be fathers to still others; and so this giving birth will endure until the end of the world. But I am speaking, not about Hagar’s giving birth, who gives birth to slaves through the Law, but about free Sarah’s, who gives birth to heirs without the Law, without works or their own efforts. That Isaac is the heir and Ishmael is not, even though both are genuine sons of Abraham, takes place through the Word of promise, specifically: ‘Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac’ (Gen. 17:19). Sarah understood this very well, and therefore she said: ‘Cast out this slave woman with her son’ (Gen. 21:10). Therefore just as Isaac has the inheritance from his father solely on the basis of the promise and of his birth, without the Law or works, so we are born as heirs by Sarah, the free woman, that is, by the church. She teaches, cherishes, and carries us in her womb, her bosom, and her arms; she shapes and perfects us to the form of Christ, until we grow into perfect manhood (Eph. 4:13). Thus everything happens through the Ministry of the Word. It is the duty of the free woman to go on giving birth to children endlessly, that is, to sons who know that they are justified by faith, not by the Law.
"‘For it is written: Rejoice, O barren one that does not bear; break forth and shout, thou who art not in travail; for the desolate hath more children than she who hath a husband’ (Galatians 4:27). Paul quotes this passage, which is completely allegorical, from the Prophet Isaiah. It is written, he says, that the mother of many children, who has a husband, must grow sick and perish, while the barren one, who does not bear, must have very many children. Hannah sings the same way in her canticle, from which Isaiah took this prophecy: ‘The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength. Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger. The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn’ (1 Samuel 2:4–5). It is an amazing thing, she says: the one who was prolific will be barren, and the one who was barren will be prolific. Those who were mighty, satisfied, alive, righteous, blessed, rich, and glorious will be feeble, hungry, sentenced to death, sinful, condemned, poor, and shameful; and, on the other hand, the feeble and the hungry will be mighty and satisfied.
"With this allegory from the Prophet Isaiah, Paul shows the difference between Hagar and Sarah, that is, between the synagogue and the church, or between the Law and the Gospel. It is as though he were saying: ‘The Law, the husband of a prolific woman, that is, of the synagogue, gives birth to very many children.’ For men of every age, not only the ignorant but those who are the wisest and best — in other words, the whole human race with the exception of the children of the free woman — do not see or recognize any other righteousness, nor to say any more excellent righteousness, than that of the Law. (Now under the term ‘Law’ I am including all laws, both human and divine.) Therefore if they follow the Law and perform its outward works, they think they are righteous. All such men are slaves, not free men, because they are sons of Hagar, who gives birth into slavery. If they are slaves, they do not share in the inheritance but are cast out of the house. ‘The slaves do not continue in the house forever’ (John 8:35); in fact, they have now been thrown out of the kingdom of grace and freedom. ‘He who does not believe is condemned already’ (John 3:18). Therefore they remain under the curse of the Law, under sin, death, and the power of the devil, under the wrath and judgment of God.
"Now if even the Moral Law of God, the Decalogue, gives birth only to slaves — that is, does not justify but only terrifies, accuses, condemns, and brings consciences to the point of despair — how, I ask you, could the laws of the pope or human tradition justify? Therefore anyone who teaches or urges either the Law of God or human traditions as something necessary for righteousness in the sight of God does nothing other than give birth to slaves. And yet such theologians are regarded as the best; they earn the applause of the world and are the most prolific mothers, that is, have an infinite number of disciples. Since reason does not understand what faith and true godliness are, it neglects and despises them. Naturally, it is impressed by superstition and hypocrisy, that is, by the righteousness of works, which is so brilliant and successful that it is the mighty empress of the universe. Therefore those who teach the righteousness of works on the basis of the Law give birth to many sons, but all of these are slaves who will be thrown out of the house and condemned.
"Sarah, the free woman, on the other hand, that is, the true church, seems to be barren; for the Gospel, the Word of the cross, which the church preaches, is not as brilliant as is the teaching about the Law and works, and therefore it has few pupils who cling to it. Besides, it has the reputation of forbidding good works, making men idle and faint, stirring up heresies and sedition, and being the cause of every evil. Therefore it does not seem to have any success or prosperity; but everything seems to be filled with barrenness, waste, and despair. Hence the wicked are fully persuaded that the church will soon perish along with its doctrine. The Jews were altogether sure that the church established by the Apostles would soon be deserted. To it they gave the hateful name ‘sect’; for so they spoke to Paul: ‘With regard to this sect we know that everywhere it is spoken against’ (Acts 28:22). Similarly today, how often, I ask you, have our opponents rejoiced in a false hope that we would surely be crushed at this or that time? Christ and the Apostles were crushed; but when they were dead, the teaching of the Gospel was spread more widely than when they were alive. Thus our opponents can crush us, but ‘the Word of the Lord will abide forever’ (1 Peter 1:25). Regardless of how barren and deserted the church of Christ seems, therefore, or of how much it is said to teach heretical and seditious doctrine, it alone gives birth to children and heirs, through the Ministry of the Word.
"Therefore the Prophet grants that the church is engaged in a conflict; otherwise he would not urge her to rejoice. He grants that in the eyes of the world she is barren; otherwise he would not call her a barren and desolate one that does not bear. But he says that she is prolific in the eyes of God. Therefore he tells her to rejoice. It is as though he were to say: ‘Desolate and barren, you do not have the Law as your husband; therefore you do not have children either. But rejoice. For even though you are deprived of the husband Law, like a virgin of marriageable age who has been deserted (he does not want to call her a widow), who would have a husband if he had not deserted her or had not been killed — you, I say, who are desolate and deserted by the husband Law and are not subject to marriage with the Law, will be the mother of an infinite number of children.’ Therefore the church of the new covenant is completely without Law so far as her conscience is concerned. In the eyes of the world, therefore, she seems to be deserted. But even though she appears barren, without Law or works, yet in the eyes of God she is very prolific, giving birth to an endless number of children, and free ones at that. How? Not through the husband Law but through the Word and the Spirit of Christ, given through the Gospel, she conceives, bears, and rears her children.
"With this allegory, then, Paul shows the distinction between the Law and the Gospel very clearly: first, when he calls Hagar the old covenant and Sarah the new; next, when he calls the former a slave and the latter a free woman; finally, when he says that the one who has a husband and is prolific will grow ill and will be cast out of the house with her children, but that the one who is barren and desolate will become prolific and will produce an infinite number of children, all of whom will be heirs. These are the essential differences between the people of faith and the people of the Law. The people of faith does not have the Law as its husband; it is not in slavery; it was not born of the present Jerusalem as its mother. But it has the promise; it is free; and it is born of Sarah, the free woman.
"Therefore Paul separates the spiritual people of the new covenant from the Law when he says that this people is not the child of Hagar, who had a husband, but of Sarah, the free woman, who does not know the Law. In this way he sets the people of faith far above and beyond the Law. But if it is above and beyond the Law, then it is justified, not by the Law and works but solely by its spiritual birth, that is, by faith. For spiritual birth is nothing other than faith. Now just as the people of grace neither has the Law nor can have it, so the people of the Law neither has grace nor can have it; for it is impossible for Law and grace to exist together. Either we must be justified by faith and lose the righteousness of the Law, or we must be justified by the Law and lose grace and the righteousness of faith. It is a bitter and tragic loss when we keep the Law and lose grace. On the other hand, it is a fortunate and saving loss when we keep grace and lose the Law.
"Seeing that Paul sets this forth with the greatest care, we are very careful to show the difference between the Law and the Gospel clearly. This is very easy so far as the words themselves are concerned. For who does not see that Hagar is not Sarah and that Sarah is not Hagar, or that Ishmael neither is nor has what Isaac is and has? This can be determined easily. But in profound terrors and in the agony of death, when the conscience struggles with the judgment of God, to be able to say with firm confidence: ‘The Law does not apply to me at all, because my mother is Sarah, who gives birth, not to salves but to free children and heirs’ — that is the most difficult thing there is.
"With this quotation from Isaiah, Paul proved that Sarah is the true mother, who gives birth to free children and heirs; and, on the other hand, that Hagar does indeed give birth to many children, but that they are slaves, who must be cast out of the house. Besides, since this passage speaks about the abrogation of the Law and about Christian liberty, it must be considered carefully. For just as it is our highest and most important doctrine to know that we are justified and saved through Christ, so, by antithesis, it is very important to have the correct understanding of the abrogation of the Law. The knowledge that the Law has been abrogated is of great value for confirming our teaching about faith and for providing a sure comfort for consciences, especially in their deep anxiety.
"This passage in Isaiah about the free mother who gives birth to free children teaches that for those who believe in Christ the entire Law, with all its terrors and troubles, has been abrogated. Therefore it is a truly outstanding and comforting passage, urging that the barren and desolate one rejoice, even though, according to the Law, she should rather be ridiculed or pitied. For according to the law barren women were accursed. But the Holy Spirit reverses this sentence and pronounces the barren one praiseworthy and blessed, but the prolific one who has children He pronounces accursed. Regardless of how desolate and barren Sarah, that is, the church, may appear to be in the eyes of the world because she does not have Law and works, she is, according to the testimony of the Prophet, the prolific mother of an infinite number of children in the eyes of God. By contrast, regardless of how great and abundant the fertility and bearing may be under Hagar, there are no children left; for the children of the slave woman are cast out of the house together with their mother, and they do not receive the inheritance with the children of the free woman, as Paul says further on (Galatians 4:30).
"Since, therefore, we are children of the free woman, the Law, our old husband (Rom. 7:1–6), has been abolished; as long as it had dominion over us, it was impossible for us to give birth in the Spirit to children who knew grace, but they remained slaves. When the Law has dominion, men are not idle. They work hard, and they bear the burden of the day and the scorching heat (Matt. 20:12). They bear and give birth to many children, but both the parents and the children are illegitimate and do not belong to a free mother. Therefore they are eventually cast out of the inheritance with Ishmael; they die and are damned. Hence it is impossible for men to be justified and saved through the Law. There is, of course, much labor and birth in the Law; but none of this grants the inheritance. Therefore the Law, with all its children, must be cast out; that is, cursed be any doctrine, life, or religion that strives to achieve righteousness in the sight of God by means of the Law or works.
"When Thomas Aquinas and other scholastics speak about the abrogation of the Law, they say that after Christ the civil and ceremonial laws are fatal, and that therefore they have now been abrogated, but not the moral laws. These men do not know what they are saying. When you want to speak about the abrogation of the Law, discuss chiefly the law in the proper sense of the word — the Law in the spiritual sense. Include the entire Law, without distinguishing between the civil, the ceremonial, and the moral. For when Paul says that through Christ we have been set free from the curse of the Law (Gal. 3:13), he is certainly speaking about the entire Law, and especially about the Moral Law. It alone actually accuses, curses, and condemns consciences; but the other two kinds do not. Therefore we say that the Law of the Decalogue has no right to accuse and terrify the conscience in which Christ reigns through grace, for Christ has made this right obsolete.
"This does not mean that the conscience does not feel the terrors of the Law at all. Of course it feels them. But it means that the conscience cannot be condemned and brought to the point of despair by such things. For ‘there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus’ (Rom. 8:1); again: ‘If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’ (John 8:36). Regardless of how terrified the Christian is by the Law and how much he acknowledges his sin, he does not despair; for he believes in Christ, into whom he has been baptized and through whom he has the forgiveness of sins. Now if our sin has been forgiven through Christ Himself, the Lord of the Law — and forgiven by His having given Himself for it — the Law, that slave, no longer has a right to accuse and condemn us because of our sin; for this has been forgiven, and we have become free by the deliverance of the Son. Therefore the entire Law has been abrogated for believers in Christ.
"‘But I have not done anything good and am not doing anything now!’ Here you neither can nor must do anything. Merely listen to this joyful message, which the Spirit is bringing to you through the Prophet: ‘Rejoice, O barren one that dost not bear!’ It is as though He were saying: ‘Why are you so sorrowful when you have no reason to be sorrowful?’ ‘But I am barren and desolate.’ ‘Regardless of how much you are that way, since you have no righteousness on the basis of Law, Christ is still your Righteousness. He became a curse for you; He has redeemed you from the curse of the Law (Gal. 3:13). If you believe in Him, the Law is dead for you. As much as Christ is greater than the Law, that much better is the righteousness you have than the righteousness of the Law. Moreover, you are not barren either, because you have more children than she who has a husband.’
"A second kind of abrogation of the Law, an outward one, is that the political laws of Moses do not apply to us at all. Therefore we should not restore them to the courthouse or chain ourselves to them in some superstitious way, as some men who were ignorant of this liberty did several years ago. Nevertheless, although the Gospel does not subject us to the civil laws of Moses, it does not completely set us free from obedience to all political laws; but in this bodily life it subjects us to the laws of the state in which we live, and it commands everyone to obey his magistrate and his laws, ‘not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience’ (1 Peter 2:13–14; Rom. 13:5). Nor would it be a sin if the emperor used some of the civil laws of Moses; in fact, it would be a good idea if he did. Therefore the sophists are in error when they imagine that after Christ the civil laws of Moses are fatal to us.
"We are not bound by the ceremonies of Moses either, much less by those of the pope. But because this life in the body cannot be completely without ceremonies and rituals, since there must be some sort of discipline, the Gospel permits ordinances to be established in the church regarding festivals, prescribed times, prescribed places, etc., so that the people may know on what day, at what time, and in what place they should gather to hear the Word of God. It permits the appointment of certain lessons, just as in school, especially for the sake of children and uneducated people, so that they can be taught more easily. But it permits such things to be established with the purpose that all things in the church should be done decently and in order (1 Cor. 14:40), not that those who observe such ordinances should merit the forgiveness of sins. Besides, they can be omitted without sinning, so long as this is done without offending the weak. Nor is it true that after Christ has been revealed, the ceremonies of Moses are fatal; otherwise Christians would sin when they observe the festivals of Easter and Pentecost, which the ancient church established on the basis of the example of the Law of Moses, although in a far different manner and for a different purpose.
"But here Paul is speaking principally about the abrogation of the Moral Law, and this should be considered carefully. He is arguing against the righteousness of the Law in order to establish the righteousness of faith, and he concludes: ‘If grace alone or faith in Christ justifies, then the entire Law has been completely abrogated.’ He supports this by the testimony of Isaiah, which invites the barren and desolate church to rejoice. She seems not to have any children of her own or any hope of having children. That is, she does not have disciples and does not receive any applause, because she preaches the Word of the cross about Christ the Crucified, in opposition to all the wisdom of the flesh. ‘But, O barren one,’ says the Prophet, ‘do not let any of this bother or disturb you. Rather exult and rejoice, for the desolate has more children than she who has a husband. That is, the one who has a husband and many children will grow ill. But you, the barren and desolate one, will abound with children.’
"Paul calls the church barren because her children are not born by means of the Law or works or any human efforts of powers but in the Holy Spirit through the Word of faith. This is purely a matter of being born, not of doing any works. Those who are prolific, on the other hand, labor and strain greatly in travail; this is purely a matter of doing works, not of giving birth. But those who try to achieve the status of sons and heirs by the righteousness of the Law or by their own righteousness are slaves, who will never receive the inheritance even though they work themselves to death with their great effort; for they are trying, contrary to the will of God, to achieve by their own works what God wants to grant to believers by sheer grace for Christ’s sake. Believers do good works; but they do not become sons and heirs through this, for this has been granted to them by their birth. Now that they have become sons for Christ’s sake, they glorify God with their good deeds and help their neighbor."
(Luther’s Works, Volume 26, CPH 1963, alt.)
31 March 2008
Remembering Jesus and Job
I can finally breathe again. Not only because the viral infection in my chest and sinuses, which so afflicted me during Holy Week, was finally spent in the first week of the Resurrection. Nor only because my daily routine has returned somewhat to normal after the very hectic and demanding pace of Lent and Holy Week and the beginning of Eastertide. I know that the entire Church on earth is breathing her "Alleluias!" again, after holding her breath throughout the Lenten fast — and I rejoice in that, too, of course — but even that is not precisely what I have in mind.
In part I am breathing easier because it seems evident that my dear eldest son, Zachary, is doing fine and well and good. After a couple MRIs and a spinal tap and multiple visits to neurologists and neural surgeons, it appears that the trauma he suffered in his cerebellum when he passed out and fell and hit his head after giving blood, way back in January, was temporary after all. Multiple Sclerosis and Lymphoma were ruled out by the spinal tap, and it is unlikely that the images appearing on the MRIs will prove to be anything of lasting substance. He will have another MRI in June, in order to verify that his brain has returned to its normal healthy condition, but in the meantime we have been given no reason to suppose that anything is wrong. So, my heart has beat a little slower and more evenly again since receiving that news.
But now I can breathe again because I have heard and received the precious comfort of the Gospel for the death of my youngest son, Job, from the womb of my dear wife to the courts of his Father in heaven. Certainly, LaRena and I were given the Word of the Gospel at the time of Job's death, the 20th of February in this Year of Our Lord 2008. But this evening — in the courts of the Lord's House, in the midst of His Jerusalem, in the congregation of the faithful — we remembered our Job with thanksgiving (and others who have died in the womb or shortly after their earthly birth) in connection with the Feast of the Annunciation of Our Lord. Thus did we mourn our son's departure as those who hope in the Cross and Resurrection of that same Lord, Jesus Christ, who was conceived and born of the Blessed Virgin Mary for this very purpose.
With nine other children, our gracious Lord had previously spared us this particular loss and sorrow, though we have grieved with friends and loved ones over miscarriages and still births and infant deaths. To experience this grief and heartache ourselves was yet a new thing for us, and we sought the comfort and wisdom and guidance of our pastor to help us. From the start, he spoke the Word of God to us, particularly the comfort of the Gospel, and in this we were strengthened and sustained in our faith. We wanted also to confess that faith, in order to solicit the support of the Body of Christ, and at the same time to serve and support our neighbor in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection.
My own immediate instinct was to have a memorial service of some kind. Not only for the sake of our own grief and mourning, but especially for the sake of confessing that our little Job, whom our eyes shall never see in this vale of tears, was nonetheless a person, a human being, created by God for life with Himself; that he and his life have mattered, and still do, to the One whose almighty Word establishes and upholds all things in heaven and on earth; that none of this was by arbitrary chance, but according to the good and gracious will of God in Christ. I desired to hear, and for others to hear, the Word of Christ, who was Himself conceived as true Man in the womb of His Mother, and who has therefore also redeemed and sanctified the bodies and souls of even His smallest and weakest and most hidden children.
LaRena was also very open and receptive to the prospect of a memorial service for our Job. And we were strongly encouraged in this regard by a very dear friend and colleague, who called with loving concern and fraternal advice. Yet, for all of that, we were both somewhat hesitant and unsure of the best way to proceed. Knowing many others who had suffered miscarriages, who had preferred and chosen to bear that loss quietly and discretely, we were reluctant to do anything that would somehow suggest a criticism of those brothers and sisters in Christ. It was surely not our goal to burden consciences, nor to add a weight upon the hearts and minds and souls of those who had grieved in their own way. As a pastor, the reality is that my decisions and actions are never entirely private, but sustain a public significance because of my office. In that same capacity, we did not want to imply that the death of our unborn son was more important, or more deserving of acknowledgment, than the similar circumstances of any other Christian.
But we did want to do what was good and best and right. And in doing so, we wanted to provide a positive example and encouragement to others, whether those who have suffered miscarriages and the like in the past, or those who will yet have this cross laid upon them in the future. It should not be the case that any Christian is ever ashamed or embarrassed to seek out the mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren. And just because the world has nothing to say or do in response to a miscarriage, because the world does not have its bearings in Christ Jesus, all the more reason for the Christian Church and Christian pastors to say something of Christ and His Gospel at precisely such a time as this. My own pastoral experience in the past has been that a good many mothers and fathers, especially mothers, are hungry for some word of comfort and encouragement — for someone to say something, for anyone to say anything — rather than acting as though nothing of significance had occurred in the loss of an unborn child.
So it seemed to LaRena and me that we ought to do something to acknowledge the death of our tiny unborn son, in order to be strengthened and sustained in our faith, and in order to confess our faith in the Lord's good works of Creation and Redemption. It likewise seemed right to us that we should seek the counsel of our own pastor, as we would want to urge others to seek out their pastor's help and advice and guidance. Thus, we asked our pastor to help us determine how and when to mourn Job's death in faith and hope and with thanksgiving for his life. LaRena was especially eager, and I agreed, that the occasion ought to be an opportunity for others to remember and grieve rightly for their own departed little ones (whether known or unknown).
In consultation with our pastor, then, we arrived at a most agreeable decision. We would allow the Feast of the Annunciation of Our Lord to serve as a memorial service for those children, including our Job, who were given life in the womb but died prior to (or shortly after) birth.
Having made that decision, I mentally set it aside, patiently waited for the day to come, and went about doing the work that I am given to do for the people of God in this place. In some ways, it felt as though the matter had been laid to rest; in other ways, though, I now realize, there was a restlessness at work in my heart and mind, until I should finally be given to rest in the particular peace of the Gospel spoken to the particular loss of my son. Although I knew the comfort of the Gospel, and confessed it, and found great solace in the Body and Blood of Christ throughout Lent and Holy Week and in the Feast of the Resurrection of Our Lord, there was also this spot of sadness and deep sorrow that waited quietly but insistently for a more specific Word of the Lord, for a preaching of the risen Son of God and His empty tomb to the stark fact of my departed son and an empty womb. I needed the warmth of that Gospel to dispel the coldness I had felt after seeing the ultrasound that showed that emptiness where my tiny child used to be.
There is nothing so precious as the preaching of the Gospel. It is not often that I am privileged to be preached to, though I am fortunate to have that opportunity more often than most of my colleagues. What a blessing it is to have an assistant pastor at Emmaus, who is such a good pastor to me, who speaks the Word of God to me and preaches the Gospel to me. I basked in that preaching this evening, and it washed over me and through me with the very warmth of Christ Himself. I do not believe that I have ever felt so tangibly the comfort and peace of the Gospel; nor do I expect that I shall often, if ever, feel it so profoundly in the future. Feelings are not necessary; the Gospel does not depend upon them, nor does faith. But feelings are not to be despised, either; for they belong to God's good gifts, and they also are redeemed and sanctified unto our good by the Word of God and prayer. There is a beautiful tenderness to our dear Lord Jesus Christ, and a tremendous sweetness to His Gospel, His forgiveness of sins, His gracious gift of life and salvation. Oh, how wonderful it is to be thus caught up in His strong arms of love. Oh, how good and pleasant it is to be thus supported by the One who is the Savior of many brethren.
We celebrated the Feast of the Annunciation this evening, the 31st of March, because the proper day of the Feast (25 March) coincided with Easter Tuesday. So important is the Incarnation of our Lord, so significant His conception in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary by the Word and Spirit of God, that the Church prefers to tranfer this Feast of His Annunciation rather than leaving it go by the wayside when it would otherwise conflict with Holy Week or the first Octave of Eastertide. Despite that slight "inconvenience," I am glad for its proximity to the celebration of the Paschal Mystery. Like the Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle on the 21st of December, only days before Christmas, the celebration of the Annunciation so close to Easter helps to accentuate the close connection between the Incarnation and the Redemption of our Lord Jesus Christ. His holy body and precious blood are conceived in the womb of the Blessed Virgin to be a sacrifice upon the Cross, to become the firstfruits of the Resurrection from the dead, and to be the Passover Meal of life and salvation for the people of God. Thus, in the midst of suffering and in the face of death, we hide ourselves in the sacred wounds of Christ, in His very flesh, and there find true peace and Sabbath rest.
Pastor Grobien said exactly what I needed to hear this evening. He preached the Gospel to me. Some of what he said I already "knew," I've heard it before and I've spoken it to others. That is as it should be, and it is good and right. Other things he said were new to me, new thoughts and new expressions of the same eternal Gospel, brought to bear upon this time and place and circumstance by the called and ordained servant of Christ. In this Word, the Lord Jesus speaks to me and serves me with His divine love and mercy and compassion. What a precious treasure it is to have the Gospel preached to me. How humbling it is, and yet encouraging, that I am also called, ordained and sent to preach this Gospel unto others. There is no merit or worthiness in me for any of this, neither to hear nor to speak this divine Word. But there is precisely this worthiness, this mercy and this glory in Christ Jesus, that He so chooses to speak His Gospel, His Word of forgiveness, that we may all believe in Him and have life in Him.
After we first shared the news that our little Job had died, there were many dear people of God, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, who did exactly the right thing in reaching out to us and speaking to us the comfort of the Gospel. They assured us of their prayers, and they confessed to us their faith in the Cross and Resurrection of Christ Jesus. In doing so, many of them were apologetic for speaking things to me that, as a pastor, of course I already know. Please, dear friends, do not apologize! The Gospel is never just a matter of knowing, but of hearing and receiving the Word. Do not be embarrassed to speak of Jesus to your pastor, but know that he is also served and blessed by your speaking. So to speak, and so to hear, these are the greatest privilege and the most blessed good work of every Christian, the best and most important things that any of us can do. I will tell you honestly that I could hardly hear the Gospel too much or too often after Job died, and I was deeply comforted by the simple speaking of that Gospel by my fellow Christians.
That simple speaking of the Gospel was not made obsolete by the preaching of my pastor, but reached its crescendo in the sermon that he preached to me this evening. For the rest of my life on this earth, I shall remember and give thanks for that sweet and precious Word. If I never feel the comfort of the Gospel so personally again, until the resurrection of my own body at the last, that will be alright. I savor the fact that it is still true: that all has been accomplished in the Body and Blood of Christ, the incarnate Son of God. It was completed in His death upon the Cross; it has been manifested in His Resurrection from the dead; and it is given to me in His Ministry of the Gospel. Indeed, He brings life and immortality to light by that Gospel.
Behold, I am a servant of the Lord, the son of His maidservant. Now here I am, and the children He has given me. Let it be to me according to His Word, that is, the Word that He has preached to me, which is in my ears and in my heart and in my mouth. The grass whithers, the flowers fade, and even the young men grow weary and faint, but that Word of the Lord abides forever.
In part I am breathing easier because it seems evident that my dear eldest son, Zachary, is doing fine and well and good. After a couple MRIs and a spinal tap and multiple visits to neurologists and neural surgeons, it appears that the trauma he suffered in his cerebellum when he passed out and fell and hit his head after giving blood, way back in January, was temporary after all. Multiple Sclerosis and Lymphoma were ruled out by the spinal tap, and it is unlikely that the images appearing on the MRIs will prove to be anything of lasting substance. He will have another MRI in June, in order to verify that his brain has returned to its normal healthy condition, but in the meantime we have been given no reason to suppose that anything is wrong. So, my heart has beat a little slower and more evenly again since receiving that news.
But now I can breathe again because I have heard and received the precious comfort of the Gospel for the death of my youngest son, Job, from the womb of my dear wife to the courts of his Father in heaven. Certainly, LaRena and I were given the Word of the Gospel at the time of Job's death, the 20th of February in this Year of Our Lord 2008. But this evening — in the courts of the Lord's House, in the midst of His Jerusalem, in the congregation of the faithful — we remembered our Job with thanksgiving (and others who have died in the womb or shortly after their earthly birth) in connection with the Feast of the Annunciation of Our Lord. Thus did we mourn our son's departure as those who hope in the Cross and Resurrection of that same Lord, Jesus Christ, who was conceived and born of the Blessed Virgin Mary for this very purpose.
With nine other children, our gracious Lord had previously spared us this particular loss and sorrow, though we have grieved with friends and loved ones over miscarriages and still births and infant deaths. To experience this grief and heartache ourselves was yet a new thing for us, and we sought the comfort and wisdom and guidance of our pastor to help us. From the start, he spoke the Word of God to us, particularly the comfort of the Gospel, and in this we were strengthened and sustained in our faith. We wanted also to confess that faith, in order to solicit the support of the Body of Christ, and at the same time to serve and support our neighbor in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection.
My own immediate instinct was to have a memorial service of some kind. Not only for the sake of our own grief and mourning, but especially for the sake of confessing that our little Job, whom our eyes shall never see in this vale of tears, was nonetheless a person, a human being, created by God for life with Himself; that he and his life have mattered, and still do, to the One whose almighty Word establishes and upholds all things in heaven and on earth; that none of this was by arbitrary chance, but according to the good and gracious will of God in Christ. I desired to hear, and for others to hear, the Word of Christ, who was Himself conceived as true Man in the womb of His Mother, and who has therefore also redeemed and sanctified the bodies and souls of even His smallest and weakest and most hidden children.
LaRena was also very open and receptive to the prospect of a memorial service for our Job. And we were strongly encouraged in this regard by a very dear friend and colleague, who called with loving concern and fraternal advice. Yet, for all of that, we were both somewhat hesitant and unsure of the best way to proceed. Knowing many others who had suffered miscarriages, who had preferred and chosen to bear that loss quietly and discretely, we were reluctant to do anything that would somehow suggest a criticism of those brothers and sisters in Christ. It was surely not our goal to burden consciences, nor to add a weight upon the hearts and minds and souls of those who had grieved in their own way. As a pastor, the reality is that my decisions and actions are never entirely private, but sustain a public significance because of my office. In that same capacity, we did not want to imply that the death of our unborn son was more important, or more deserving of acknowledgment, than the similar circumstances of any other Christian.
But we did want to do what was good and best and right. And in doing so, we wanted to provide a positive example and encouragement to others, whether those who have suffered miscarriages and the like in the past, or those who will yet have this cross laid upon them in the future. It should not be the case that any Christian is ever ashamed or embarrassed to seek out the mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren. And just because the world has nothing to say or do in response to a miscarriage, because the world does not have its bearings in Christ Jesus, all the more reason for the Christian Church and Christian pastors to say something of Christ and His Gospel at precisely such a time as this. My own pastoral experience in the past has been that a good many mothers and fathers, especially mothers, are hungry for some word of comfort and encouragement — for someone to say something, for anyone to say anything — rather than acting as though nothing of significance had occurred in the loss of an unborn child.
So it seemed to LaRena and me that we ought to do something to acknowledge the death of our tiny unborn son, in order to be strengthened and sustained in our faith, and in order to confess our faith in the Lord's good works of Creation and Redemption. It likewise seemed right to us that we should seek the counsel of our own pastor, as we would want to urge others to seek out their pastor's help and advice and guidance. Thus, we asked our pastor to help us determine how and when to mourn Job's death in faith and hope and with thanksgiving for his life. LaRena was especially eager, and I agreed, that the occasion ought to be an opportunity for others to remember and grieve rightly for their own departed little ones (whether known or unknown).
In consultation with our pastor, then, we arrived at a most agreeable decision. We would allow the Feast of the Annunciation of Our Lord to serve as a memorial service for those children, including our Job, who were given life in the womb but died prior to (or shortly after) birth.
Having made that decision, I mentally set it aside, patiently waited for the day to come, and went about doing the work that I am given to do for the people of God in this place. In some ways, it felt as though the matter had been laid to rest; in other ways, though, I now realize, there was a restlessness at work in my heart and mind, until I should finally be given to rest in the particular peace of the Gospel spoken to the particular loss of my son. Although I knew the comfort of the Gospel, and confessed it, and found great solace in the Body and Blood of Christ throughout Lent and Holy Week and in the Feast of the Resurrection of Our Lord, there was also this spot of sadness and deep sorrow that waited quietly but insistently for a more specific Word of the Lord, for a preaching of the risen Son of God and His empty tomb to the stark fact of my departed son and an empty womb. I needed the warmth of that Gospel to dispel the coldness I had felt after seeing the ultrasound that showed that emptiness where my tiny child used to be.
There is nothing so precious as the preaching of the Gospel. It is not often that I am privileged to be preached to, though I am fortunate to have that opportunity more often than most of my colleagues. What a blessing it is to have an assistant pastor at Emmaus, who is such a good pastor to me, who speaks the Word of God to me and preaches the Gospel to me. I basked in that preaching this evening, and it washed over me and through me with the very warmth of Christ Himself. I do not believe that I have ever felt so tangibly the comfort and peace of the Gospel; nor do I expect that I shall often, if ever, feel it so profoundly in the future. Feelings are not necessary; the Gospel does not depend upon them, nor does faith. But feelings are not to be despised, either; for they belong to God's good gifts, and they also are redeemed and sanctified unto our good by the Word of God and prayer. There is a beautiful tenderness to our dear Lord Jesus Christ, and a tremendous sweetness to His Gospel, His forgiveness of sins, His gracious gift of life and salvation. Oh, how wonderful it is to be thus caught up in His strong arms of love. Oh, how good and pleasant it is to be thus supported by the One who is the Savior of many brethren.
We celebrated the Feast of the Annunciation this evening, the 31st of March, because the proper day of the Feast (25 March) coincided with Easter Tuesday. So important is the Incarnation of our Lord, so significant His conception in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary by the Word and Spirit of God, that the Church prefers to tranfer this Feast of His Annunciation rather than leaving it go by the wayside when it would otherwise conflict with Holy Week or the first Octave of Eastertide. Despite that slight "inconvenience," I am glad for its proximity to the celebration of the Paschal Mystery. Like the Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle on the 21st of December, only days before Christmas, the celebration of the Annunciation so close to Easter helps to accentuate the close connection between the Incarnation and the Redemption of our Lord Jesus Christ. His holy body and precious blood are conceived in the womb of the Blessed Virgin to be a sacrifice upon the Cross, to become the firstfruits of the Resurrection from the dead, and to be the Passover Meal of life and salvation for the people of God. Thus, in the midst of suffering and in the face of death, we hide ourselves in the sacred wounds of Christ, in His very flesh, and there find true peace and Sabbath rest.
Pastor Grobien said exactly what I needed to hear this evening. He preached the Gospel to me. Some of what he said I already "knew," I've heard it before and I've spoken it to others. That is as it should be, and it is good and right. Other things he said were new to me, new thoughts and new expressions of the same eternal Gospel, brought to bear upon this time and place and circumstance by the called and ordained servant of Christ. In this Word, the Lord Jesus speaks to me and serves me with His divine love and mercy and compassion. What a precious treasure it is to have the Gospel preached to me. How humbling it is, and yet encouraging, that I am also called, ordained and sent to preach this Gospel unto others. There is no merit or worthiness in me for any of this, neither to hear nor to speak this divine Word. But there is precisely this worthiness, this mercy and this glory in Christ Jesus, that He so chooses to speak His Gospel, His Word of forgiveness, that we may all believe in Him and have life in Him.
After we first shared the news that our little Job had died, there were many dear people of God, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, who did exactly the right thing in reaching out to us and speaking to us the comfort of the Gospel. They assured us of their prayers, and they confessed to us their faith in the Cross and Resurrection of Christ Jesus. In doing so, many of them were apologetic for speaking things to me that, as a pastor, of course I already know. Please, dear friends, do not apologize! The Gospel is never just a matter of knowing, but of hearing and receiving the Word. Do not be embarrassed to speak of Jesus to your pastor, but know that he is also served and blessed by your speaking. So to speak, and so to hear, these are the greatest privilege and the most blessed good work of every Christian, the best and most important things that any of us can do. I will tell you honestly that I could hardly hear the Gospel too much or too often after Job died, and I was deeply comforted by the simple speaking of that Gospel by my fellow Christians.
That simple speaking of the Gospel was not made obsolete by the preaching of my pastor, but reached its crescendo in the sermon that he preached to me this evening. For the rest of my life on this earth, I shall remember and give thanks for that sweet and precious Word. If I never feel the comfort of the Gospel so personally again, until the resurrection of my own body at the last, that will be alright. I savor the fact that it is still true: that all has been accomplished in the Body and Blood of Christ, the incarnate Son of God. It was completed in His death upon the Cross; it has been manifested in His Resurrection from the dead; and it is given to me in His Ministry of the Gospel. Indeed, He brings life and immortality to light by that Gospel.
Behold, I am a servant of the Lord, the son of His maidservant. Now here I am, and the children He has given me. Let it be to me according to His Word, that is, the Word that He has preached to me, which is in my ears and in my heart and in my mouth. The grass whithers, the flowers fade, and even the young men grow weary and faint, but that Word of the Lord abides forever.
30 March 2008
Hymns for Proper 3-7 Series A
First Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 3 (Sunday on May 24–28)
Isaiah 49:8–16a
Romans 1:8–17
Matthew 6:24–34
Hymn of Invocation
In the very midst of life (LSB 755)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
All depends on our possessing (LSB 732)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
O God, my faithful God (LSB 696)
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father (LSB 809)
Jesus, priceless treasure (LSB 743)
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty (LSB 790)
Hymn of Departure
Sing praise to God, the highest good (LSB 819)
Alternative Hymns
By grace I’m saved, grace free and boundless (LSB 566)
Children of the heav’nly Father (LSB 725)
Consider how the birds above (LSB 736)
Creator Spirit, by whose aid (LSB 500)
Entrust your days and burdens (LSB 754)
Father most holy, merciful and tender (LSB 504)
In God, my faithful God (LSB 745)
Jesus, Thy boundless love to me (LSB 683)
My soul, now praise your maker (LSB 820)
Praise, my soul, the King of heaven (LSB 793)
The Gospel shows the Father’s grace (LSB 580)
What is the world to me (LSB 730)
Second [1–2] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 4 (Sunday on May 29—June 4)
Deuteronomy 11:18–21, 26–28
Romans 3:21–28
Matthew 7:15–29
Hymn of Invocation
These are the holy Ten Commands (LSB 581)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
To God the Holy Spirit let us pray (LSB 768)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
If Your beloved Son, O God (LSB 568)
Lord Jesus Christ, with us abide (LSB 585)
Thy strong word did cleave the darkness (LSB 578)
Lord Jesus Christ, the Church’s head (LSB 647)
Hymn of Departure
Abide, O dearest Jesus (LSB 919)
Alternative Hymns
All mankind fell in Adam’s fall (LSB 562)
Built on the Rock the Church shall stand (LSB 645)
By grace I’m saved, grace free and boundless (LSB 566)
God’s Word is our great heritage (LSB 582)
I know my faith is founded (LSB 587)
Lord, help us ever to retain (LSB 865)
Lord, keep us steadfast in Your Word (LSB 655)
My hope is built on nothing less (LSB 575)
Seek where you may to find a way (LSB 557)
The Church’s one foundation (LSB 644)
The Gospel shows the Father’s grace (LSB 580)
The Law of God is good and wise (LSB 579)
Third [1–3] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 5 (Sunday on June 5–11)
Hosea 5:15—6:6
Romans 4:13–25
Matthew 9:9–13
Hymn of Invocation
A mighty fortress is our God (LSB 656)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
If God Himself be for me (LSB 724)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
Christ Jesus lay in death’s strong bands (LSB 458)
Hope of the world, Thou Christ of great compassion (LSB 690)
I walk in danger all the way (LSB 716)
Come, you faithful, raise the strain (LSB 487)
Hymn of Departure
Let me be Thine forever (LSB 689)
Alternative Hymns
"As surely as I live," God said (LSB 614)
Chief of sinners though I be (LSB 611)
"Come, follow Me," the Savior spake (LSB 688)
In the shattered bliss of Eden (LSB 572)
Jesus sinners doth receive (LSB 609)
Jesus, Thy boundless love to me (LSB 683)
My soul, now praise your maker (LSB 820)
Rise, shine, you people (LSB 825)
The gifts Christ freely gives (LSB 602)
Today Your mercy calls us (LSB 915)
What is the world to me (LSB 730)
When in the hour of deepest need (LSB 615)
Fourth [1–4] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 6 (Sunday on June 12–18)
Exodus 19:2–8
Romans 5:6–15
Matthew 9:35—10:8 (9–20)
Hymn of Invocation
God loved the world so that He gave (LSB 571)
Hymn of the Day
O God, O Lord of heaven and earth (LSB 834)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
Oh, how great is Your compassion (LSB 559) (Catechetical)
In the shattered bliss of Eden (LSB 572)
Dear Christians, one and all, rejoice (LSB 556)
All people that on earth do dwell (LSB 791)
Hymn of Departure
God’s own child, I gladly say it (LSB 594)
Alternative Hymns
All mankind fell in Adam’s fall (LSB 562)
Christ, the Word of God incarnate (LSB 540)
Church of God, elect and glorious (LSB 646)
Come, ye thankful people, come (LSB 892)
Creator Spirit, by whose aid (LSB 500)
Jesus Christ, our blessed Savior (LSB 627)
O Christ, our true and only light (LSB 839)
O God of light, Your Word, a lamp unfailing (LSB 836)
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty (LSB 790)
The tree of life with ev’ry good (LSB 561)
Thy works, not mine, O Christ (LSB 565)
We all believe in one true God (LSB 954)
Fifth [1–5] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 7 (Sunday on June 19–25)
Jeremiah 20:7–13
Romans 6:12–23
Matthew 10:5a, 21–33
Hymn of Invocation
Evening and morning (LSB 726)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
Lord of our life and God of our salvation (LSB 659)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
From God can nothing move me (LSB 713)
Entrust your days and burdens (LSB 754)
Salvation unto us has come (LSB 555)
Let us ever walk with Jesus (LSB 685)
Hymn of Departure
Once in the blest baptismal waters (LSB 598)
Alternative Hymns
Creator of the stars of night (LSB 351)
Father most holy, merciful and tender (LSB 504)
Hail, Thou once despised Jesus (LSB 531)
How clear is our vocation, Lord (LSB 853)
If thou but trust in God to guide thee (LSB 750)
Lift high the cross (LSB 837)
O God, my faithful God (LSB 696)
O God of light, Your Word, a lamp unfailing (LSB 836)
O Holy Spirit, enter in (LSB 913)
O little flock, fear not the foe (LSB 666)
The Head that once was crowned with thorns (LSB 532)
Why should cross and trial grieve me (LSB 756)
Proper 3 (Sunday on May 24–28)
Isaiah 49:8–16a
Romans 1:8–17
Matthew 6:24–34
Hymn of Invocation
In the very midst of life (LSB 755)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
All depends on our possessing (LSB 732)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
O God, my faithful God (LSB 696)
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father (LSB 809)
Jesus, priceless treasure (LSB 743)
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty (LSB 790)
Hymn of Departure
Sing praise to God, the highest good (LSB 819)
Alternative Hymns
By grace I’m saved, grace free and boundless (LSB 566)
Children of the heav’nly Father (LSB 725)
Consider how the birds above (LSB 736)
Creator Spirit, by whose aid (LSB 500)
Entrust your days and burdens (LSB 754)
Father most holy, merciful and tender (LSB 504)
In God, my faithful God (LSB 745)
Jesus, Thy boundless love to me (LSB 683)
My soul, now praise your maker (LSB 820)
Praise, my soul, the King of heaven (LSB 793)
The Gospel shows the Father’s grace (LSB 580)
What is the world to me (LSB 730)
Second [1–2] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 4 (Sunday on May 29—June 4)
Deuteronomy 11:18–21, 26–28
Romans 3:21–28
Matthew 7:15–29
Hymn of Invocation
These are the holy Ten Commands (LSB 581)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
To God the Holy Spirit let us pray (LSB 768)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
If Your beloved Son, O God (LSB 568)
Lord Jesus Christ, with us abide (LSB 585)
Thy strong word did cleave the darkness (LSB 578)
Lord Jesus Christ, the Church’s head (LSB 647)
Hymn of Departure
Abide, O dearest Jesus (LSB 919)
Alternative Hymns
All mankind fell in Adam’s fall (LSB 562)
Built on the Rock the Church shall stand (LSB 645)
By grace I’m saved, grace free and boundless (LSB 566)
God’s Word is our great heritage (LSB 582)
I know my faith is founded (LSB 587)
Lord, help us ever to retain (LSB 865)
Lord, keep us steadfast in Your Word (LSB 655)
My hope is built on nothing less (LSB 575)
Seek where you may to find a way (LSB 557)
The Church’s one foundation (LSB 644)
The Gospel shows the Father’s grace (LSB 580)
The Law of God is good and wise (LSB 579)
Third [1–3] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 5 (Sunday on June 5–11)
Hosea 5:15—6:6
Romans 4:13–25
Matthew 9:9–13
Hymn of Invocation
A mighty fortress is our God (LSB 656)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
If God Himself be for me (LSB 724)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
Christ Jesus lay in death’s strong bands (LSB 458)
Hope of the world, Thou Christ of great compassion (LSB 690)
I walk in danger all the way (LSB 716)
Come, you faithful, raise the strain (LSB 487)
Hymn of Departure
Let me be Thine forever (LSB 689)
Alternative Hymns
"As surely as I live," God said (LSB 614)
Chief of sinners though I be (LSB 611)
"Come, follow Me," the Savior spake (LSB 688)
In the shattered bliss of Eden (LSB 572)
Jesus sinners doth receive (LSB 609)
Jesus, Thy boundless love to me (LSB 683)
My soul, now praise your maker (LSB 820)
Rise, shine, you people (LSB 825)
The gifts Christ freely gives (LSB 602)
Today Your mercy calls us (LSB 915)
What is the world to me (LSB 730)
When in the hour of deepest need (LSB 615)
Fourth [1–4] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 6 (Sunday on June 12–18)
Exodus 19:2–8
Romans 5:6–15
Matthew 9:35—10:8 (9–20)
Hymn of Invocation
God loved the world so that He gave (LSB 571)
Hymn of the Day
O God, O Lord of heaven and earth (LSB 834)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
Oh, how great is Your compassion (LSB 559) (Catechetical)
In the shattered bliss of Eden (LSB 572)
Dear Christians, one and all, rejoice (LSB 556)
All people that on earth do dwell (LSB 791)
Hymn of Departure
God’s own child, I gladly say it (LSB 594)
Alternative Hymns
All mankind fell in Adam’s fall (LSB 562)
Christ, the Word of God incarnate (LSB 540)
Church of God, elect and glorious (LSB 646)
Come, ye thankful people, come (LSB 892)
Creator Spirit, by whose aid (LSB 500)
Jesus Christ, our blessed Savior (LSB 627)
O Christ, our true and only light (LSB 839)
O God of light, Your Word, a lamp unfailing (LSB 836)
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty (LSB 790)
The tree of life with ev’ry good (LSB 561)
Thy works, not mine, O Christ (LSB 565)
We all believe in one true God (LSB 954)
Fifth [1–5] Sunday after Holy Trinity
Proper 7 (Sunday on June 19–25)
Jeremiah 20:7–13
Romans 6:12–23
Matthew 10:5a, 21–33
Hymn of Invocation
Evening and morning (LSB 726)
Hymn of the Day / Catechetical Hymn of the Week
Lord of our life and God of our salvation (LSB 659)
Hymns for the Distribution of the Holy Communion
From God can nothing move me (LSB 713)
Entrust your days and burdens (LSB 754)
Salvation unto us has come (LSB 555)
Let us ever walk with Jesus (LSB 685)
Hymn of Departure
Once in the blest baptismal waters (LSB 598)
Alternative Hymns
Creator of the stars of night (LSB 351)
Father most holy, merciful and tender (LSB 504)
Hail, Thou once despised Jesus (LSB 531)
How clear is our vocation, Lord (LSB 853)
If thou but trust in God to guide thee (LSB 750)
Lift high the cross (LSB 837)
O God, my faithful God (LSB 696)
O God of light, Your Word, a lamp unfailing (LSB 836)
O Holy Spirit, enter in (LSB 913)
O little flock, fear not the foe (LSB 666)
The Head that once was crowned with thorns (LSB 532)
Why should cross and trial grieve me (LSB 756)
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