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.

HUMAN TRADITIONS – PART II

Ad Finem Illum

Vol. 3. Issue 2

February 2016

The Augsburg Confession teaches that human traditions have benefit for the church, though they lose that benefit when it is taught that the observance of human traditions merit grace and earn God's favor. This month we explore the benefit of human traditions in the church. The fifteenth article of the Augsburg Confession lays out the first benefit of human traditions and external ordinances in the church.

Of Usages in the Church they teach that those ought to be observed which may be observed without sin, and which are profitable unto tranquility and good order in the Church, as particular holy days, festivals, and the like. (AC XV.1)

Human traditions in the church can be “profitable unto tranquility and good order.” The example Melanchthon gives is holy days and festivals. Take Sunday for instance. The New Testament does not command Christians to worship on Sunday. In the Old Testament the Jews were given the ceremonial law which commanded them to worship on the Sabbath (Saturday). Christ fulfills the Sabbath and frees the Christian from the ceremonial law. St. Paul writes in Colossians 2:16-17, “Let no one judge you in food or in drink, or regarding a festival or a new moon or Sabbaths, which are a shadow of things to come, but the substance is of Christ.” Note that nowhere in the New Testament is Sunday called the “Christian Sabbath” nor is there a command to worship on Sunday. The apostles chose Sunday for

two reasons. First, they worshiped on Sunday as a confession that they were no longer bound under the ceremonial aspect of the third commandment. Worshiping on Sunday is a confession of their Christian freedom from the law. Second, worship on Sunday was a confession that Christ rose from the dead on the first day of the week, making each Lord’s Day a mini-Easter celebration.

For the sake of tranquility and good order in the church, all churches hold their chief service on Sunday. Everyone knows on what day they are to show up to hear God’s Word. The same is true for the entire New Testament liturgical calendar. Throughout the ages the church built her calendar around her festivals, Christmas, Easter and Pentecost. Lent, advent, epiphany, and the saints’ days were added throughout the years. Why? To establish a sacred calendar for the church to follow, to keep the church on track for teaching all the articles of the Christian faith on a yearly basis, and so that all the churches would be hearing the same thing on any given Sunday. In short, for tranquility and good order among the churches.

To this reason of order and tranquility we ought to add discipline. The sinful flesh does not want to hear God’s Word. The sinful flesh does not like order since it rails against anything that is of divine origin or nature, including order and tranquility. Ceremonies help the Christian curb the sinful flesh

so that there is an order and discipline to worship and piety. Melanchthon writes:

They [the church fathers] observed human rites for the sake of bodily advantage, that the people might know at what time they should assemble; that, for the sake of example all things in the churches might be done in order and becomingly; lastly, that the common people might receive a sort of training. For the distinctions of times and the variety of rites are of service in admonishing the common people. The Fathers had these reasons for maintaining the rites, and for these reasons we also judge it to he right that traditions [good customs] be maintained. Ap VIII, Article XV. 20-21

The second benefit of human traditions is found in the Apology of the Augsburg Confession, XXIV:3:

Ceremonies, however, ought to be observed both to 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.

Every ceremony in the church, including her calendar, festivals, holy days, vestments, postures in worship, just about anything external that goes on in the church or in the Divine Service, has the purpose of teaching the Scripture and the faith to those who use said ceremonies. I mentioned above that worshiping on Sunday teaches Christian freedom and confesses Christ’s resurrection on the first day of the week. Those human traditions teach the faith. The clergy shirt teaches that in spite of the preacher’s sinfulness, he holds the office of Christ to preach the Gospel. Vestments cover the man during the Divine Service, teaching that the man is not the reason we listen, but the fact that Christ speaks through the Office of the Holy Ministry. The white vestment teaches that the baptized are clothed with Christ’s righteousness. The stole is a sign of being under the yoke of Christ since it rests upon the shoulders, for the preacher is a “servant of Christ and a steward of the mysteries of God” (1Corinthians 4:1).

The posture of the preacher at the altar, the bowing, kneeling at the altar rail, when we sit and when we stand, even the building itself, all of it is designed to teach aspects of the faith and to instill reverence and the fear of God in the hearts of men. None of it is commanded by God. Neither is any of it forbidden by God, for the Gospel does not impose externals and ceremonies on men. The church imposes these ceremonies and traditions to engage the senses, marshalling them for the sake of teaching the gospel. The next time you find yourself wondering “Why do we do that in church?” ask yourself, “What does this ceremony teach about Christ, about the Faith, or about Prayer?” That is why they exist, after all, to teach Christ and the Scriptures to as, as well as to teach us prayer and faith. Next month we will explore how to judge whether traditions succeed at their goal or not.

Ad Finem Illum, Amen!