Friday, May 20, 2016

THE SUCCESSFUL CHURCH



 Ad Finem Illum
Vol. 3 Issue 5
May 2016


How do we measure the church’s success? There are two ways of going about this. The first way is to judge the church according to human reason, which looks at the church in the same manner as one would look at a business. Human reason uses these diagnostic questions:  “Are there more bodies in the pews than there were a year ago?” “Is the budget bigger than it was a year ago?” “Do we have a big enough building to accommodate the ministry?” “Do we offer more programs and services than we have in the past?” Human reason examines the church according to worldly criteria of success. Bigger is always better. Years ago, a phrase was coined which summarizes what human reason thinks success in the church is: more bodies, bigger buildings, and more bucks in the offering plate. If we are left to our own human reason, this becomes the only metric for determining success.

But human reason is tainted by sin. Jeremiah writes that “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked” (Jeremiah 17:9). St. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 2:14, “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.” This means that man cannot look at the things of God and understand them without the aid of the Holy Ghost. This includes the church, what it is, its purpose, and its success, since the church is a creation of the Holy Ghost. We cannot, we must not, judge the church according to the earthly metric. To judge the success of the church according to a worldly metric only invites us to view the church as the creation of man rather than the creation of God. If we start with human reason, we will have a church based on human reason. 

So what is our metric for measuring the church’s success? Jesus tells His disciples in John 6:63, “It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.” Looking at the church through the “eyes of flesh,” that is, human reason, profits us nothing, just as living according to the flesh profits us nothing. Instead we are to live by the Spirit and also judge the success of the church by the Spirit. So we measure the church’s success according to the words of Jesus, since “they are spirit, and they are life.”
  
What does Jesus say about His church? He says nothing about its size, the buildings in which it meets, its programs, or its revenue streams. Jesus locates the church in its marks, its divinely-ordained tasks. These marks help Christians locate the true church. Christians can then evaluate the church’s success based on whether or not they are faithful to these marks.

The first mark of the church is the pure preaching of the Word of God. Jesus says in John 10:27, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” What is the voice of Christ but the gospel? St. Paul says that it is the church’s task to make sure it’s doctrine is pure from human opinion when he writes in 2 Corinthians 2:17, “For we are not as many, which corrupt the word of God: but as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God speak we in Christ.” Therefore the church must be on guard against corrupting its doctrine. The first mark of the church is the pure teaching of the gospel without corruption.

The second mark of the church Christ identifies is that sins are loosed and retained according to His command. The church is the only place on

earth preaching the gospel of the forgiveness of sins. If sins aren’t being forgiven and retained, that place isn’t the church. If the forgiveness of sins is not being given and received, then that church is not successful. The third mark of the church is the proper use of the Sacraments, Holy Baptism and Holy Communion. Are they being used as means by which God gives grace and forgiveness to His saints? This is simply stated in the seventh article of the Augsburg Confession:

The Church is the congregation of saints, in which the Gospel is rightly taught and the Sacraments are rightly administered.

The corollary to this is that there must also be people present to use the sacraments, hear the Word, receive the absolution, and confess Christ. But how many people are present is of no consequence.  Martin Chemnitz, senior editor of the Book of Concord, writes in his Enchiridion:

The true church of God on earth is not determined by the multitude of people (Mt 7:13-14), even as it is not to be determined by power, nobility, and wisdom according to the flesh (1 Co 1:26-28). Nor does this assembly always represent the true church, which carries and bears before itself the name “church.” (Question #326).

He goes on to say:

And these signs [the church’s marks and people to receive them] are sometimes more in evidence, sometimes less evident. For on this foundation some build gold, some stubble (1 Co 3:12-13). And yet if the foundation remains intact, God has His church there (1 Kings 19:18).


Success, according to Christ and the Scriptures, is not the increase in communicant membership, although we do pray that the Lord grants that. Success is judged only by whether or not the church is faithfully to its marks. Do we maintain the pure gospel? Do we celebrate the sacraments according to Christ’s institution? Are there people gathering around the Word and the sacrament? Even “two or three” gathered in Christ’s name? If the answer is “yes,” if we are faithful to the tasks which Christ has given the church, then we are successful. Whether we have lots of bodies in the pews or few is not up to us, but up to God, who gives the increase. St. Paul teaches us in 1 Corinthians 3:7, “So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.”

Do not judge the church by human reason and the eyes of flesh. Most of what is deemed “successful” today is an abject failure in God’s sight. Christ’s metric is not “The Three B’s” of bodies, bucks, and buildings. Christ’s metric is fidelity to the gospel in ALL of its articles, not just some of them or that ones that popular. Success is holding fast to our confession of Christ despite the worldly outcome (Hebrews 10:23).

Is Holy Cross successful? Perhaps not to the eyes of human reason. But there are people present to hear the Word and receive the sacraments, “and these signs [including the people] are sometimes more in evidence, sometimes less evident.” Currently we have less people than we’d like hearing the pure Gospel. But we have the pure gospel and the sacraments. Faithfulness to the marks of the church is true success. Rejoice that we have the gospel free of human corruption and pray that it remains so. Ad Finem Illum! Amen.

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

HUMAN TRADITIONS – PART III

Ad Finem Illum
Vol. 3 Issue 4
April 2016
  
Since Christ and His apostles don’t command any external ceremonies dictating how the church is to worship, the church is free to institute external ceremonies and rites which are profitable unto tranquility and good order in the Church” (AC XV.1) Human traditions should also “teach men Scripture, and that those admonished by the Word may conceive faith and fear [of God, and obtain comfort], and thus also may pray.” (Ap XXIV:3). As we noted in Part II, every practice in the church, every man-made tradition should accomplish these things. Of course, we also noted that if a tradition or ceremony in the church is found to conflict with the Gospel, or if a tradition is made into a necessity, then it must not be followed but removed.

With this in mind, we move into the final phase of discussing human traditions in the church, which is how to judge whether human traditions succeed in their goal or not. This is as simple as asking two diagnostic questions when considering any ceremony in the church. First, “What does the tradition confess about the Gospel?” and “Is it a good confession or an inadequate confession?”

Let’s use a visible example: the pastor’s attire. I am often asked why I wear a clerical collar. The answer is not, “Because it makes getting dressed much easier.” The pastor wears the clerical collar to set him apart from others in the church. What sets the pastor apart from the laity is his office, the office of the Holy Ministry, by which he ministers to the

congregation “in the stead and by the command” of Christ. Not all Christians are pastors or ministers. This is evident from Acts 20:28; Ephesians 4:11, and Paul’s qualifications for ministers spelled out in 1 Timothy and Titus. The Office of the Holy Ministry does not make the pastor any better a Christian than the layman. It simply means he has a different office.

The clerical shirt is an external marker than the pastor has been called by Christ and ordained into His Holy Ministry. Nowhere does Christ command this gear to be worn, so it is not a necessary part of a proper call into the Holy Ministry. If it were taught that is necessary for the validity of the pastor’s ministry, or that wearing such attire added to one’s salvation, then it would be “opposed to the Gospel and the doctrine of faith” (AC XV.3).

Now, let us apply the second question: Is the clerical shirt a good confession or an inadequate one? Does it succeed in confessing what it means to confess, i.e. that the wearer has been placed into Christ’s Holy Office? Honestly, it depends on whom you ask. Many from American Evangelicalism view the clerical collar as a sign of latent Romanism at best, or at worst, a raging case of the “Holier-than-Thou’s.” But remember, there is no Office of the Holy ministry in American Evangelicalism. In the minds of many American Christians, everyone is a minister of Christ, some just do it publically on Sunday morning. It is Luther’s “Priesthood of All Believers” turned on its head, by which they assume that by virtue of

baptism, every Christian is a minister. I say that this is Luther’s theology turned on its head because Luther did teach that all Christians were priests. Priests offer sacrifices to God (Hebrews 13:15) and approach the Lord directly in prayer. Luther never taught that all Christians are pastors. That would run contrary to the “some” of Ephesians 4:11.

The misuse of something, or the misunderstanding of something, does not mean that it should be abandoned. Just because many do not have the same theology of the Holy Ministry as the Scriptures does not mean that pastors should mothball their clericals. In fact, it is the misunderstanding about the Office of the Ministry that makes the pastor’s attire that much more important. By it, the pastor confesses that He is called and ordained by Christ to serve in the Holy Ministry. This brings up another point. Most American Christians have an entirely different definition of “ministry” than Lutherans (and Scripture). For Lutherans this is the ministry: 

That we may obtain this faith, the Ministry of Teaching the Gospel and administering the Sacraments was instituted. (AC V.1)

To most American Christians, “ministry” is general service to the church that defies precision in definition. For the Lutheran, the ministry is a very concrete office. (See 1 Corinthians 4:1).

Since most American Christians are confused regarding the Office of the Ministry, it is no wonder that the clerical collar seems foreign to them. The doctrine it confesses, they generally don’t have. This is why, in my opinion, the clerical shirt ought to be maintained among the clergy, to confess the Office of the Holy Ministry into which Christ calls men to serve as “stewards of the mysteries of God.”

It is often said that the color black signifies the preacher’s sinfulness (in which case, I need a darker shade of black). It is also said that the clerical tab, being white and covering the voice box, signifies that the preacher’s words are not his own words, but the pure Word of God. This also is worth maintaining, because it teaches exactly what we’ve been discussing. It’s not a galloping cause of the “Holier-than-Thou’s.” The attire teaches the doctrine of the divine call, that God uses sinful men as His instruments to preach the gospel and administer the sacraments.

This is just one example of a human tradition that succeeds in confessing the gospel, when properly understood. The principle detailed here should be applied to any and every external ceremony and tradition within the church. So the next time you wonder “why do we do that?” about something, remember that there should always a reason and that reason is to teach some aspect of the Holy Gospel so that we are continually learning the faith. Ad Finem Illum, Amen.

WHO DIETH THUS DIES WELL


Ad Finem Illum
Vol. 3. Issue 3
March 2016


In the book The Hammer of God, Bo Giertz tells the story of a fictional Swedish Lutheran pastor named Henrik Savonius. During the yearly clergy Christmas party, a peasant intrudes upon the celebrating pastors. The peasant has come from a nearby village where one of the villagers, a man named Johannes, lies on his deathbed. The young Dr. Savonius is called upon to take Holy Communion to the dying man. Savonius reluctantly leaves the festivities and departs with the peasant to the nearby town. There he meets the dying Johannes, who is plagued with an evil conscience upon his deathbed. As death approached, all Johannes could dwell on was the depth and number of his sins throughout his life.

Johannes’ problem was that at the moment of his death, all he knew was the law. Satan held each of his secret sins before his eyes to convince him that his faith and piety had been a sham and that he had never had true repentance. The devil led Johannes to believe that he was beyond God’s mercy, having sinned too grievously too many times.

Savonius begged the confounded man to look to his own religious experience throughout his life for comfort. Johannes could only see his wicked thoughts, his wayward prayers, and his many sins.  Savonius’ appeal to past religious experience only led Johannes further into despair of God’s mercy. Savonius, himself relying upon his own religious experience and piety, realizes at this moment he has

nothing to offer the man as a pastor. Shame suddenly grasped the young pastor, so much so that he stepped outside and became physically ill. The only comfort Savonius understood was that of the transformed life, that a Christian could take comfort in their spiritual experiences and personal piety. The man dying in the next room shattered this comfort.

It is only at the arrival of Johannes’ former neighbor, a woman named Katrina, that the situation changes. Johannes tells Katrina, “It is repentance that I lack.” Katrina rebuts, “You do not lack repentance, Johannes, but faith. You must believe this living Word of God: ‘But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted to him as righteousness.” Johannes asks why he has not then received a clean heart, to which Katrina responds, “That you might learn to love Jesus.”

Johannes wrongly assumed that if God didn’t take sin out of his heart, he must not be saved. Katrina points the dying man back to the gospel. “If you had received a clean heart and for that reason had been able to earn salvation – to what end would you then need the Savior?” When the Christian sees the depth of his sinfulness and his unclean heart, that does not mean he has ceased be a Christian. It simply means He is a Christian, just as St. Paul was a Christian but continued to have an unclean heart throughout his life, yet trusted solely in the gospel that Christ forgives all who seek Him in mercy.

Savonius is called upon to give the dying man Holy Communion, so that he might receive the forgiveness of sins before he dies and have his faith strengthened by the Blessed Sacrament. That day, Savonius learned that the true consolation for the Christian isn’t their conversion experience, their good works, or their piety, but Christ crucified to atone for the sins of the world, including theirs. He saw how Satan can distort good works, a transformed life, and all sorts of piety, showing them to be a sham. That day, Savonius learned the gospel from a peasant woman.

It has been said that the Christian faith teaches men how to properly die. This story illustrates that point. On our deathbeds, we cannot hold to any experience we have ever had as a Christian. We cannot dwell upon our piety and how much of a “good Christian” we have been. We cannot even rely upon our own repentance, how sorry we are for our sins. Every good work is imperfect. Selfishness is woven deep within our prayers. There is truly nothing good in us, for sin saturates all our desires and motivations. Even as Christians who have been regenerated by holy baptism, fully saved by that washing of water and the spirit, our renewal is a process which is never completed in this life.

The Christian cannot look to the completeness of their repentance. Nor can he look to his good works, piety, prayers, or any experience for comfort and proof of our salvation, because each of these remains steeped in sin and imperfect in this life.

The only thing that can console the conscience troubled by sin is the promise of the gospel. Christ gives us the atonement, his righteousness, and all the blessings won on the cross in the promise of the gospel.

If the Christian faith teaches men how to die, how will you die? You will not die by taking comfort in any of the things named above. You will die with Christ crucified for sinners before your eyes. On that day, whenever the Lord wills it to be, you are to keep your sight on Christ’s atoning death for the sins of the world. Faith believes the gospel, that His suffering and death was for you, for your forgiveness and life. We sing something like this during holy week in the final stanza of the hymn, O Sacred Head, Now Wounded:

Be Thou my Consolation,
My Shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy Passion
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee.
Who dieth thus dies well! (TLH 172.10)


How do we die, and live, for that matter? With our eyes fixed upon Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world by atoning for them upon the altar of the cross. There is no other place for our eyes to be at that moment, or any moment, than on Christ crucified for sinners. Ad Finem Illum, Amen.