Encore Post: [Sixty-Seventh in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] That seems odd, doesn’t it? It’s most noticeable when we pray for our national and synodical presidents: Donald J. Trump and Matthew C. Harrison. In the prayer of the church, they are Donald and Matthew.
Surely, not one of us would address Pres. Trump or Pres. Harrison by their first names. Our discomfort is informed by the 4th Commandment. We are to honor those who God has placed in authority over us. It feels uncomfortable to use familiar terms with these folks.
Though the common culture around us has left formality behind in the last 30 years or so, we still rebel in the church. Especially in our southern culture, there are still vestiges for forgotten formality. Our children often learn to address Ms. or Mrs. Linda, Becky, Lori, or Mandy with a title, even when speaking their first names.
But, in the prayers, we speak differently. Taking our cues from David in the Psalms, we pray in humility before the throne of the Lord. All sinners seeking forgiveness and blessing are of the same status coram deo (before God). So, in confessing the truth about ourselves and everyone for whom we pray, we use first names.
Even POTUS and our synodical president are Donald and Matthew on Sunday morning in the prayer of the church. If we were to pray for Pope Francis, we would pray for him using his Baptismal name: Jorge. This is how we pray.
Let us lift up our voices to petition God, Our Father, through Jesus Christ, His Son.
Encore Post: [Sixty-Sixth in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] This is the more uncomfortable part of the worthiness question. As we discussed in the last post, worthiness is receiving with faith in Jesus’s words and promise.
Again, the Small Catechism helps us identify some answers. When are we unworthy and unprepared? We are unworthy and unprepared when we do not believe Christ’s words, or doubt them, since the words “for you” require all hearts to believe (Small Catechism 6.6).
Without faith, that is “unworthily,” what does a person receive? Again, let’s look at the catechism. Why should we be concerned about receiving the Sacrament worthily? The Sacrament of the Altar is not our supper, but the Lord’s Supper, where He gives us His body and blood for the forgiveness of our sins. To eat and drink the Lord’s body and blood without trust in His words, however, is to eat and drink judgement on oneself (Small Catechism 6.6)
For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself. (1 Corinthians 11:26-29)
Without faith, that is “unworthily,” what does a person receive? Judgement. That should cause us to shudder a bit. As stewards of the mysteries of God, we can harm our neighbor by inviting them to unworthily receive Jesus’s cup of blessing.
Encore Post: [Sixty-Fifth in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] That’s a great question. As a young boy in Kansas and Missouri, my pastors would commune last by the hand of an elder or assistant. The first time I saw a pastor commune himself before serving the assistants, I was shocked. Since I was even more quiet and reserved in those days, I waited until the handshake line to ask why.
Pastor was always kind and offered this explanation. “The pastor serves in the stead and by the command of Christ Jesus and is a sinner in need of forgiveness, just like the people he serves. When he hears the confession and absolution, he both delivers and receives those words. The pastor preaches to edify the people of which he is one. Similarly, the pastor serves the body and blood of Christ under bread and wine to the people for the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. It follows that he also receives this blessing from the hand of the pastor.” This restored practice replaces the innovation of pastor refraining until after someone else communes.
Having heard that, I was quickly convinced.
Digging deeper later on, I found that Dr. Luther, Dr. Chemnitz, and C. F. W. Walther (fathers of the Lutheran church) all instructed pastors to commune themselves first, and then the assistants, followed by the congregation. It is further supported by our rubrics in the Lutheran Service Book pew edition, which clearly instructs the pastor and assistants to commune first. (LSB p. 164, 181, 199, 210, and 217)
Similarly, the practices of purifying the people of Israel in the wilderness on Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, were also ordered this way. Aaron, the high priest, offered a sacrifice first for himself and his household. Then, he sacrificed for the holy place and the Levites. Then, the Levites would purify the people. We should not be confused about whose work these sacrifices were. Hebrews chapter 10 and 11 disabuse us of any notion that the work of the priests and/or the people earned them anything. Faith in the promises of God delivers the gifts of God to the people of God.
This is not a sign that the pastor has a special character in himself, or that the mass is a sacrifice. Rather, his office is the one that serves. And the Lord delivers Himself in, with, and under the elements. The assistants, even when they are ordained men, receive from the celebrant just as he does. Then, they bring the body and blood of Jesus to you in their own freshly forgiven hands. Each person receives immediately in order of proximity to the Lord’s work attaching His promised gifts to the Body and Blood, bread and wine, forgiveness from the Lord, until all have communed.
May we all confidently receive God’s loving gifts: the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation.
Encore Post: [Sixty-Fourth in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] Worthily receiving refers our state before God in receiving the Sacrament of the Altar. We are concerned about their own state before the Lord and that of others in the Lord’s Supper because all who come to the altar receive the true body and true blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Our first stop should be the Small Catechism. “Who receives the sacrament worthily? Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training. But that person is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words: “Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” But anyone who does not believe these words or doubts them is unworthy and unprepared, for the words “for you” require all hearts to believe.” (Small Catechism 6.5 )
In Luther’s day, the requirements of fasting and penance before receiving the Sacrament were quite onerous. Sadly, those demands also directed our attention away from the center of God’s promise to us. His promise is the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. Those gifts are received worthily by faith. Trust in the words of Jesus, “Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” For those words bring the Body and Blood to us for the forgiveness of sins.
[Fifty-Eighth in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] Encore Post: In the Lutheran faith of the Reformation, we have the Absolution*. Like nose-blindness by the baker in his kitchen, we don’t always hear it with great joy. The spoken words of forgiveness are the sweetest sound in the ears of a Christian.
* (This post was inspired by a comment from Rev. Bryan Wolfmueller at his presentation for the Lutheran Writer Round-Up at Faith Lutheran High School of Central Texas on 09 Feb 2024)
“What is confession?” Confession has two parts. First, that we confess our sins, and second, that we receive absolution, that is forgiveness, from the pastor as from God himself, not doubting, but firmly believing that by it our sins are forgiven before God in heaven. (SC 5.1)
For the Romanists (Roman Catholics, Eastern Rite Catholics, Western Rite Orthodox, and the like) absolution exists privately. The penitent must confess. Also, there’s an exchange rate. (Contrition + Penance = a Narrow Absolution) The absolution in this exchange is only available for the specific sins confessed and only if the penance is done correctly. It’s limited. It’s uncertain.
Evangelicals (Baptists, Reformed, Anabaptists, and the like) flatly reject verbal absolution. They’ll sometimes pop off, “only God can forgive sin.” This position doesn’t stand up against scripture as cited at the end of this article. They have strong preaching and teaching of forgiveness. But, there’s no actual delivery. Worse, there’s a limited forgiveness for the “saved.” The concept of “backsliding” and the practice of rebaptism flow from that limitation of God’s grace.
Episcopalians & Anglicans, who lean heavily towards Rome, have a thing like the public absolution. Their assurance of forgiveness is not an actual absolution. Without verbally forgiving sin, the certainty is taken away.
The Enthusiasts (Pentecostals, Holiness Churches, AME Churches, and the like) look inside themselves for assurance. Their certainty rests upon feeling forgiven and demonstrating a zeal in the faith. Without emotional zeal and a feeling of forgiveness, there’s only hopelessness or uncertainty. With the internal zeal, there’s just pride.
Progressive Christians (including many denominations, but encompassing the whole of the ELCA) live in a psycho-social theology. Internally, they’ll embrace a notion that I just have to “Forgive myself.” Externally, they’ll reject the details of God’s Law, citing unkindness, racism, or colonialism. For the progressive, there is a new Law with ever changing names (Political Correctness, Progressivism, Critical Theory, Wokeness, or whatever term comes next). Forgiveness for me, but not for thee. Or, I don’t even need forgiveness. Like the medieval saintly system, the New Law only accepts penance/atonement by you. Set things right by being an ally and fighting the close-minded Christians.
Naturally, the pagans (Muslims, Jews, Mormons, Polytheists, Spiritualists, and the like) don’t get it either. They are trying to balance the scales even harder. Only Christianity features a God who comes to us. Only in the Lutheran church do we find the absolution spoken for you. Pastor speaks as he is commanded in the stead and by the command of Jesus. Yes, a man can forgive sins.
Pastor doesn’t forgive by his own power, ability, or volition. He does it in the stead and by the command of God. He’s following orders given, like a servant does. “When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; If you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.’” (John 20:22-23) “Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you lose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” (Matthew 18:18)
Pastors, faithful pastors, Lutheran pastors, forgive the sins of penitent sinners. It’s an inescapable demand of their office. God has given us this gift for our certainty, confidence, and comfort.
The Roman system of law was not much different from ours, kind of a cross between our Grand Jury, Indictment and trial system and a general court-supreme court model. A local court would take on most of the infractions, would look at the evidence when it comes to serious matters and return a charge for the Roman court where necessary. The gathering at the High Priest’s home was much like a grand jury, the Sanhedrin, meeting in the outer courts of the temple, the lower court that brought the formal charges and Pilate’s court the high tribunal.
Pilate was an able, competent and experienced Prefect — a military governor — who had ruled Palestine mostly successfully for over thirty years. The Jewish people were notoriously unruly, requiring occasionally violent suppression from time to time. There were a few incidents where the leaders of the Jews set traps for him, resulting in reprimands from Rome.
When the Sanhedrin came with Jesus, he knew immediately that it was for envy that they charged him. He first tried to shift it back to them, only to be told that only he could judge Jesus, because Jesus was worthy of death. He next sent him to Herod, who was hoping Jesus would entertain him, but Jesus didn’t play along. So, it was back to Pilate.
After questioning Jesus, and hearing from his wife that she had been warned in a dream, Pilate was convinced that Jesus was innocent. So, Pilate offered to release a revolutionary, Barabbas, to them or Jesus. They shouted for Barabbas.
Pilate was still ready to release Jesus, repeating he found Jesus innocent. When, however, the Sanhedrin threatened to report him to Caesar, he gave in and allowed Jesus to be crucified.
He washed his hands, saying he would have nothing to do with it. That really did not work. Every Sunday, we confess Jesus was crucified under Pontius Pilate.
We are tempted to blame him, seeing he killed a man he knew to be innocent to save his skin. We are tempted to blame the Jewish leaders, for it was they who accused Jesus and assumed responsibility for his death.
But in the end, it was not Pilate, not the Jewish leaders, but Jesus, who is responsible for his death. He told Pilate as much when he said Pilate would have no authority if it wasn’t given to him. It is why he became a man in the womb of the Virgin Mary in the first place. It was he who bowed to his Father’s will, knowing full well he would bear the sins of the whole world to the cross.
Why would Jesus be condemned to die, then? It is because of my sins, because of your sins and the sins of all God’s children. He loved us before the creation of the world, was not willing to be parted from us for all eternity. Someone had to die and only God was innocent enough and man mortal enough to do it. So, he came, the Lamb of God, to take away the sins of the world. He set his face towards Jerusalem and went to his death, for you and for me. So, in this Lent, and always, when we are tempted to downplay our sins, God invites us to consider the cost, repent of them and receive from Jesus the forgiveness he earned for us that first Good Friday.
Encore Post: Our evangelical brothers and sisters in Christ are all about making a decision for Christ. They will often ask, “Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Savior?” Such a question sounds strange to Lutherans, along with the similar question, “are you born again?” The reason is Lutherans believe these are really the wrong questions. Why? Because Jesus sought us, found us, saved us by his suffering and death, accepted us in baptism and gave new birth in it by water and the Holy Spirit. So, yes, thank you, I am born again, but no, I did not accept Jesus as my personal Savior. He accepted me and made me God’s child and his brother. There is nothing more personal than that.
I once was asked by someone if I could study all the Bible passages with him that talk about accepting Jesus as Savior. My answer was no, because there are no such passages. In fact, if you go through the Bible looking for people who were lost and sought God, you will find very few. Think about it for a moment: God made Adam and Eve. When they sinned, he came and found them. He went to Noah and told him to build the ark. He found Abraham and told him to leave home, promising to give him a son. He came to Jacob when the patriarch ran away and wrestled with him. He called to Samuel in the night. He sent Samuel to find and anoint David. Almost every book of the words of the prophets begins with: “and the word of God came to…” We don’t seek God, he seeks us out.
Why is this? We were dead in our sins. (Ephesians 2:1-3) As the saying goes, “Dead men tell no tales.” As Martin Luther says it, “I cannot by my own reason or strength, believe in my Lord Jesus Christ or come to him.” (Small Catechism 2.3) Because he loved us, he is gracious to us. He was moved in Christ Jesus to become one of us, live a perfect life for us, take our sins upon himself and die on the cross for us. It is by this grace we are saved, through his gift to us of faith.
In a sense, we can talk about decision theology, then. God decided to save us. He is our personal savior, because he made it so. We will live with him forever because of this. We can rest in the peace this brings, confident that he will remove every sin from us one day, the day he calls us forth from our graves and dries every tear in our eyes.
Encore Post: [Fifty-First in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] At first, it seems like a strange question to ask — even the wrong question to ask. Since Baptism is God’s work to save us, why wouldn’t we want to be baptized? There are several reasons this issue comes up. The first arose during the Reformation. The Anabaptist movement believed that children are innocent, and that God does not hold them accountable until a later age. In the Augsburg Confession (Article Nine) and the Apology of the Augsburg Confession (Article Nine) firmly rejects this argument (more in a later post on infant baptism).
The other reason is that in this sinful world, sometimes people die without being baptized. Lutheran theologians answer the question by saying Baptism is necessary but not absolutely necessary for salvation. Baptism is necessary because God commands us to baptize and to be baptized. (Matthew 28:18-20, Acts 2:37-38) Jesus tells us that you cannot enter the kingdom of God if you are not born of water and the Spirit. (John 3:5) Yet the Scripture is very clear that the preaching of the Gospel also is a means of grace, which creates faith (Romans 10:14-17), forgives sins and brings everlasting life. (Romans 1:16)
So, God’s word can save, even when the opportunity for a Christian to be baptized has not come. But God is so rich in his mercy, that he gives his grace over and over again, in the form of the preaching of the Gospel, the baptizing of his children and in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper and in Absolution. Each means brings forgiveness of sins, life and salvation in its own way, providing for us certainty that we are God’s own and will live with him forever. We refuse them at our own peril, for God gives them to us for our good and strengthening in the face of the assaults of the world, devil and our sinful desires. While God requires us to do so, so they are necessary, it is more that we get to enjoy these blessings.
Encore Post: [Fiftieth in a series of posts on Martin Luther’s Small Catechism] Perhaps the point of greatest conflict between Lutherans and the Evangelical movement is our confidence that the Bible teaches that baptism saves you. As I noted in another post, most Protestants think of Baptism as a simple ceremony where a Christian declares he puts his faith in Jesus as his personal savior. They think of baptism as something we do and so think that to say that baptism saves us, that it is the same thing as saying salvation is something we earn by what we do. Yet the Bible clearly says, “Baptism saves you” (1 Peter 3:21-22) and “unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God” (John 3:5)
If Lutherans believed that baptism was something we do, we also would reject the teaching that it saves. After all, the heart and center of the Lutheran confession is salvation is by grace alone through faith alone for the sake of Christ alone. But we believe what the Scriptures teach, that salvation is God’s work, not ours. God the Father saved us, not by what we have done, but washing us and renewing us in baptism by the Holy Spirit. (Titus 3:4-7) Jesus gave himself for the church, cleansing us by the water and the word. (Ephesians 5:25-27) In Christ, through faith, God has buried us with Jesus in baptism and made us alive with Christ, forgiving our sins.(Colossians 2:11-14) So, when we say we are saved by baptism, we are saying that God saves us by baptism.
Encore Post: In Israel, an ancient inscription in set in the floor of a church. Verbum Caro Hic Factum Est (here the word was made flesh). Emperor Constantine had the church — and these words — built there in the 4th century. (300s). There, his mother Helena was told God had become a man. It is not in Bethlehem. It is Nazareth in the place thought to have been the girlhood home of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Ancient tradition identified it as the place where the Angel Gabriel had announced the incarnation of the Eternal Son of God in her womb. Here it was believed the impossible happened — the finite contained the infinite. The Author of Life became the child of a Jewish girl. To all Christians who confess the doctrines of the Nicene Creed, she is known as the θεοτόκος (theotokos) — the bearer or the Mother of God.
On March 25th, the church celebrates it as the Annunciation. We celebrate on March 25th — nine months before Christmas — right in the middle of Lent or early in the season of Easter. From the perspective of human logic, it is backwards.
Religions invented by humans are all about people seeking God, going on a quest, doing one work after another, performing one ritual after another. Greeks and Eastern religion are all about getting rid of the flesh and the physical world, ascending into the heavens spiritually. The goal is to shed the body for what’s really important — the spiritual.
The incarnation is the first and greatest revelation — epiphany. We don’t seek God — God seeks us. We don’t strive to climb Jacob’s ladder — he comes down it. The Son of Godis the Son of Man. He is in every way like us — except he didn’t sin. He brings to us grace after grace.
The incarnation tells more than about God. It tells us that flesh and blood are good, not to be despised and rejected, but celebrated and accepted. We are very good, just the way God made us. We are male or female, short or tall, big or small-boned, a unique combination of traits chosen by God so that none of us — even twins — are exactly the same. In baptism, he calls us by name, writing it in the Book of Life. What he wants is each one of us. It is for us he was born, lived a perfect life, suffered, died, rose and ascended into heaven. And it is for us he will come again. He will call our name when he summons us from the grave and transforms us for life everlasting. The truth is, he became flesh to live with us — now and forever.
