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The Video at Last! The Form of the Divine Service

The video is finally done! Over a year in the making, we have at last completed our work of preparing our instructional film, The Form of the Divine Service: an instructional video for pastors and seminarians. This is footage of an actual Divine Service with voice-over of how-to commentary. This service shows a full contingent of Celebrant, Deacon, Sub-deacon, and servers, with an acknowledgment that services having less than this full contingent may easily abridge these instructions accordingly. Better to show too much than too little, we thought.

To view the video online, right now, click here! We hope to have DVDs of this available soon as well.

As the opening words accompanying the video declare,

"The editors of Gottesdienst are pleased to present this video recording of a Divine Service, together with rubrical instructions to assist men who are preparing for the ministry and pastors who might desire further assistance in these matters. In 2014, the editors were collectively musing on how we might better serve the churches and pastors who wanted to know in some greater detail how to conduct a reverent observance of the ceremonies of the Divine Service, and this project was begun. We thank the people at Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod Worship, at the Office of National Mission, who agreed that the project would prove a blessing to many pastors and seminarians. They have been generous and gracious in providing funding for this project. This is a video recording, with commentary, of a Divine Service held in May of 2016 at St. Paul’s in Hamel, Illinois, during a Gottesdienst conference."

What’s This? Genuflecting in Worship?

If you open up your Bible and pray the Psalms you might come across this line, “Oh come let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the LORD our maker”  (Psalm 95:6).  Missouri Synod Lutherans are Bible believers and what the Bible says, they desire to put into practice.  Our Lord and God does not mandate that we bow down or kneel at any particular time or place in the service but as the Scriptures themselves commend bowing and kneeling as a salutary practice, Lutherans do it.  Many of our church buildings have kneelers in the pews and most have an altar rail so that communicants can kneel to receive the very Body and Blood of Jesus Christ under the bread and wine for the forgiveness of sins.  Kneeling is part and parcel of Lutheran worship and while this is confirmed in furniture, one might take a look at our current hymnal and agenda to see where there is instruction to kneel.  Lutherans may kneel to confess their sins (LSB 151,167,184, 203, 213, 291, 292), pray (LSB 227, 233, 241,249, 253) get confirmed (LSB 273) and get married (LSB 276).   If the Lutheran is to be a pastor, he kneels to be ordained (LSB Agenda p. 166),  installed (LSB Agenda, p. 181) and he may kneel if he is leaving for another field of service (LSB Agenda, 195), or retiring (LSB Agenda, p. 198).  If a son or daughter of a congregation is beginning study for service in the church they may kneel (LSB Agenda, p. 207).  If a Lutheran is a candidate for commissioning in service to the church, they are instructed to kneel (LSB Agenda, p. 212).  Dig through Lutheran Hymnals and Agendas past and present and you will find kneeling all over the place.  Genuflecting is kneeling, just with one knee.  It is this one-knee kneeling that has the Rev. Chris Wicher, President of the Eastern District of the LCMS, well, upset.  His full report of the recent Synod Convention is found here, but his comments on the worship practices of the Convention are of particular interest to us.  President Wicher writes,

“WHAT’S THIS? GENUFLECTING IN WORSHIP? Finally, a word about my worship experience at the convention. Worship was definitely of high church style, complete with liturgies “out of the book” and chanting throughout on top of full liturgical garb, chasubles and the like. This is my second convention which was run and organized by our current administration. The same style at this convention held true at our last convention, which is also true when I attend chapel at the International Center in St. Louis. The message to me is plain. High church is the preferred worship style given to the churches of the LC--MS. I get it, I can even do high church liturgy if I wish but which I don’t. But what is completely foreign to me and a bit unsettling, being a life-long LC—MS Lutheran, is what appears to be genuflecting going on in the chancel. This is something I hope will not continue (if genuflecting is what indeed is taking place) which in some strange way is reverencing the host as if the pastor, because he is a pastor, has some magical power and has instantly before our eyes magically changed the substance of the bread into the body of Christ. Really?”

Yes, President Wicher, genuflecting was really taking place! Pastors were kneeling! Many of the editors were present at the convention and saw it with our own eyes!  But what is the problem?  Kneeling is a true adiaphoron, but like all ceremonies or liturgical actions, it may teach something.  The pastors in the chancel did not kneel in some strange way reverencing the host as if the pastor has some magical power and magically changed the substance of the bread into the body of Christ, but because those pastors actually believe that under the bread is the true Body of Jesus Christ and under the wine is the very Blood of Christ according to Christ’s own clear Word.  It is this LORD, our maker, the one through whom all things were made who was born of the Blessed Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate and raised on the third day who is really present, under the bread and wine for us Christians to eat and to drink.  Don’t you believe that?   We pray you do.  Have you ever knelt to receive the Sacrament of the Altar?  Did you at that time believe in some magic that the pastor did, or were you receiving the Body and Blood of your Lord and God in humility for the forgiveness of your sins and worshiping him in true faith?   Genuflecting is a true adiaphoron, believing that Christ is present in the Sacrament according to His Word is not. The fact that He is present might cause fellow Christians to kneel in reverence.  They are free to do so.  So are you.  Really.

Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. -  Philippians 2:9-11

Holy Father, Holy Son, Holy Spirit, three we name Thee;

Though in essence only one, Undivided God we claim Thee

And, adoring bend the knee, While we own the mystery.  LSB 940:5

- The Editors


Two side notes.  We commend to our readers the following; the first regarding the Adoration of Christ in the Sacrament, the second, Blessed Martin Luther on the genuflection during the recitation of Nicene Creed in the Divine Service as a confession of the Incarnation of the Son of God  -

1. "Now, here we are not saying that one should not worship our dear Lord Jesus Christ in this Sacrament, being present, of that one should not hold this Sacrament with all honor and reverence. On the contrary, since these divine, almighty, true words are believed, all of this follows of itself, and not only in external gestures but also both externally and, first and foremost, in the heart, spirit, and truth. On account of this, such adoration of Christ is not thereby cancelled, but much rather, confirmed. For where the Word is rightly seen, considered and believed, the adoration of the Sacrament will happen of itself. For whoever believes that Christ's body and blood are there (as there is plenty of evidence so to believe, and it is necessary so to believe), he cannot, to be sure, deny his reverence to the body and blood of Christ without sin. For I must confess that Christ is there when His body and blood are there. His words do not lie to me, and He is not separate from His body and blood." - George von Anhalt, The Treasury of Daily Prayer, February 3, pp. 1179-80

2. Although the Antichrist in Rome and the devil frightfully mutilated and perverted all that is divine in the church, God nevertheless miraculously preserved Holy Scripture – even though it was darkened and dimmed under the pope’s accursed rule – and passed it down to our day.  Thus God also preserved these words of the Gospel, which were read from the pulpit every Sunday, although without the proper understanding.  Also the words of the Decalog, the Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer, as well as Baptism and one kind in the Sacrament have survived under the devilish regime.  Although the Gospel was obscured and the proper understanding of it hidden, God still kept it for the salvation of His own.  These words too, “And the Word became flesh,” were held in reverence.  They were sung daily in every Mass in a slow tempo and were set to a special melody, different from that for the other words.  And when the congregation came to the words, “from the Virgin Mary and was made man,” every one genuflected and removed his hat.   It would still be proper and appropriate to kneel at the words “and was made man,” to sing them with long notes as formerly, to listen with happy hearts to the message the Divine Majesty abased Himself and became like us poor bags of worms, and to thank God for the ineffable mercy and compassion reflected in the incarnation of the Deity. But who can ever do justice to that theme?...The following tale is told about a course and brutal lout.  While the words, “And was made man” were being sung in church, he remained standing, neither genuflecting nor removing his hat. He showed no reverence, but just stood there like a clod.  All the others dropped to their knees when the Nicene Creed was prayed and chanted devoutly.  Then the devil stepped up to him and hit him so hard it made his head spin.  He cursed him gruesomely and said:  “May hell consume you, you boorish ass!  If God had become an angel like me and the congregation sang: ‘God was made an angel,’ I would bend not only my knees but my whole body to the ground!  Yes, I would crawl ten ells down into the ground.  And you vile human creature, you stand there like a stick or a stone.  You hear that God did not become an angel but a man like you, and you just stand there like a stick of wood!”  Whether this story is true or not, it is nevertheless in accordance with the faith (Rom. 12:6).  With this illustrative story the holy fathers wished to admonish the youth to revere the indescribably great miracle of the incarnation; they wanted us to open our eyes wide and ponder these words as well.
 - Luther’s Works Vol. 22, pp.102-103, 105-106.

Teach us, Augustana! - Now with Classes I and II

The Rev. Fr. Gaven Mize, pastor of Augustana Lutheran Church in Hickory, NC, lecturing in a live video streaming series on worship: "Teach us, Augustana!" (An Introduction into Catechetical Aesthetics in God's House).

This is outstanding stuff!

Note the dates:

(all classes streamed live on Facebook, 6:30 pm EST).  Look for the link on Pastor Mize's Facebook timeline.

May 3 (this video below) - Salvation History and the Liturgical Line
May 17 - (this video below) - With Angels and Archangels/How the Feast is Prepared
May 31 - What in the World is Happening Here?  Liturgy and Architecture Working Together

Note: Augustana has a YouTube channel that you can subscribe to.

Caerimonia In Memoriam

In remembrance

By Larry Beane

The use of ceremonies in the church has become controversial among us 21st century American Lutherans.  But it always amazes me how ceremony and ritual are much more easily accepted in other areas of life.

By way of example, as the local fire chaplain, I attended our state's annual memorial for fallen firefighters.  It is held at the site of a beautiful memorial area that is being improved year by year.  This year, a permanent stage was built.  Last year, a large glass plate with a decorative waterfall was added.  There is an eternal flame, beautiful statues and sculptures, places for flags and banners, memorial bricks, a brass bell, and carved stone monuments bearing names of those who laid down their lives for others.

It is dignified.  Nothing is done on the cheap.  The artwork reflects a long tradition within the firefighting culture that spans generations.  The annual ceremony is also formal, ritualistic, and traditional.

Most of the time, firefighters tend to be informal and practical in matters of attire and conduct.  They don't wear fancy uniforms or march in formation on a day to day basis.  They ply a holy vocation that involves using the latest technology and design for clothing and equipment.  It's all about what works best in the field in order to save lives.

But on the day of the memorial ceremony, firefighters marched solemnly in rows and columns. Their uniforms were formal, bedecked with brass badges and ribbons and epaulets.  Some sported antiquated firefighting uniforms from times past. There was also a parade of firetrucks, led by a Clydesdale-drawn steam unit from the 19th century.  There was a color guard.  Banners were posted.  The national anthem was sung, and it was not jazzed up.  Firefighters carried chrome-plated ceremonial picks and axes.  Bagpipers and Celtic-style drummers, clad in tartans and bearskin hats played traditional martial music, led by a major toting a large mace.  There were salutes, a rifle volley, and taps.  There was a ritual ringing of a bell five times, which was repeated three times.

The ceremony lasted two hours in the blazing Louisiana sun.  Seven men who fell in the line of duty were honored.  Their families were brought forward and treated with compassion, respect, and love by the assembly that gathered on this solemn occasion.  The ceremony - with all its attendant dignity and formality and impractical outmoded symbolism - brought comfort to the families of those who died in order that others might live.  It was a powerful statement that everything is not about us.

What was not there was also illustrative.

There were no skits or clowns or dancing girls.  Nor did anyone accuse the fire service of condemning anyone not in the fire service, or whose uniforms or trucks did not contain a certain level of finery or Latin mottoes, nor those who don't march the same way.  Nobody was offended.  Since this was not about us, those of us in attendance just didn't see the ritual as some kind of condemnation.  Not at all.

There was also no mockery.  Nobody made snarky comments about the marching and saluting as being pompous or ostentatious.  Nobody complained about the cost.  As far as I know, there were no facebook posts mocking the old-fashioned bells, the old-fashioned ornamentation, the impractical horse-drawn apparatus, or the loud rifle volleys. Nobody accused the formally-uniformed firefighters of being "firehouse prancers" or of putting on airs.

Why not?

I think people understood that this was a special occasion.  It was not ordinary.  This was an occasion of honor.  This was an occasion unlike the daily grind of life in our workaday world. We were doing this in memory of the fallen men who sacrificed their lives for others.  It is simply meet, right, and salutary to comport ourselves with dignity at such times.  And there is a culture, a tradition within the fire service in which things like ringing a bell five times and repeating this three times has meaning.  There is a reason for the use of the colors, the ribbons, the badges, etc.  Nobody made fun of the people who carried chrome-plated firefighting tools or the guys wearing the bearskin hats for hours in the heat.

There is a similar role for ceremony and tradition within other vocations and traditions, such as the military, the police, and other occupations that deal with life and death.  Even in organizations that don't involve life and death urgency, such as genealogical and historical societies, clubs, fraternal organizations, and even sports teams, there is a healthy respect for traditional ritual.  There is a similar (though decreasing) respect for tradition and formality in situations in life such as weddings, graduations, and funerals.

Sad to say, a lot of people within the Church - even within the Lutheran tradition - take the opposite tack.  They misinterpret depictions of pastors serving at altars as somehow about them.  To see a Gottesdienst cover depicting a pastor at the holy altar that includes a cruet and lavabo should not make me angry or defensive or snarky because my congregation's altar has no lavabo, nor do I, as a pastor, make use of the cruet.  To me, this would be as ridiculous as thinking that the firefighters who had gold braided shoulder cords as part of their dress uniforms were being insulting of me because my uniform lacks that particular element.  When it comes to the church's ceremonial, some make dismissive comments about "medieval finery" or "fancy vestments" or call into question why we use candles in the age of electricity or bells now that we have iPhones. They might protest that chalice veils and Gospel book covers are unnecessary.  Some might argue that the money used on such items could be better spent.

We live in an age of historical ignorance and myopia.  People don't know what the meanings of these ecclesiastical symbols are, nor how they connect us to the past in a great organic chain of tradition.  But what's worse than not knowing is that, often, they just don't care.  They want drinks and cup-holders.  They want snacks.  They want flip-flops.  They want pop music and a show.  This is the sad direction of modern American Christianity.  And even many of our brethren who are liturgical are offended by ceremonies that deviate in this way or that from their preferences and customs and expectations.

All of this goes to show that Gottesdienst's motto, "Leiturgia Divina adiaphora non est" is true.  For if ceremony is all indifferent, why do the advocates of rock and roll and dancing girls get all in a snit when they see clerical collars, traditional vestments, and ancient ceremony?  And why do those in the Goldilocks Middle equally decry praise bands and Sanctus bells, as though their brand of extreme moderation is a golden mean to be rigidly followed (the sign of the cross, good; genuflecting, bad.  Candles, good; incense, bad)?

Of course, what is lost here is the idea that this isn't about you, it's about Jesus.

Since Christ came into our world to forgive our sins and give us life by means of the Gottesdienst, the Divine Service of Word and Sacrament, we interact with Him and with the other people who gather in His name.  Such a coordinated communication requires order.  And since 80% of human communication is nonverbal, it necessarily involves ritual.  And since the Divine Service is a special occasion (in which Christ physically and truly comes to us in His Word and in His body and blood for forgiveness, life, and salvation by means of a miracle), and is not part of our workaday world, and since the altar is holy, the holiest of the holy, in fact (the word "sanctuary" means "holy," and the world "altar" means "raised up"), how can it be any other way than that we would conduct ourselves with dignity at the altar, engaging in ritual actions and making use of elements from within the grand tradition of Christianity, preferably items of quality and beauty, of durability and respect?

What would you think of a man who had the means to buy his fiancee a gold wedding ring, but opted instead to give her a cheap piece of costume jewelry?  This is very different from the man who can only afford something very humble.  Either way, one would expect a person motivated by love to demonstrate that love with more than words - which is what ceremony and ritual do.

As the pastor of a church that is far from wealthy, but also speaking as an American (and thus counted among the wealthiest people in the world who enjoy nearly universal luxuries like air conditioning, indoor plumbing, automobiles, televisions, and cell phones), most American congregations could afford things like Eucharistic vestments and a full range of communion vessels should these things enjoy a level of priority.  I'm grateful to donors whose generosity made it possible for us to have liturgical items that confess the dignity of our King's presence with us, though none of these things are necessary for a reverent celebration of the Lord's Supper.  And even when finances inhibit us from having certain things, it doesn't mean that reverence has to take a back seat.

After all, every Sunday Mass is a special occasion.  It is not ordinary.  It is an occasion of honor, an occasion unlike the daily grind of life in our workaday world. We do this in memory of the unfallen yet crucified Man, who sacrificed His perfect life for others, for us poor, miserable, and fallen sinners.  It is simply meet, right, and salutary to comport ourselves with dignity at such times.  And there is a culture, a Great Tradition that spans centuries within the Holy Church, in which things like ringing bells and making the sign of the cross have meaning.  There is a reason for the use of the colors, the banners, the vestments, etc.  Christian ceremonies chiefly teach people about Christ (Ap 24:3), calling to mind, confessing, and conveying that which He has done for us by His sacrifice on the cross.

And we receive this evangelical treasure of Word and Sacrament at His gracious invitation: "This do in remembrance of Me."

In remembrance

Gottesdienst at the Brothers'

By Larry Beane

I would like to thank Father Tim Rossow and everyone at Bethany Lutheran Church in Naperville, IL for their hospitality in inviting me to speak at their impressive 2015 Brothers of John the Steadfast conference, "When Heterodoxy Hits Home", last month.

My talk was entitled "Doctrine And/Or Practice?" and it is available online in both video and audio.  All of the presentations are available here (video) and here (audio).

I would also like to thank Fathers Randy Asburry and Eric Anderson for interviewing me on "Steadfast Throwdown" twice.  The first was a teaser for the conference, the second was a followup (I understand that it will be available soon).

Kneeling for the Consecration - Theology and Practice

Check out this beautifully-written manifesto defending the traditional liturgical practice of kneeling at the consecration of the Holy Eucharist, written by Deacon Latif Gaba at the blog of the Society of Saint Polycarp.

The Faith and Life of the Body vs. Missional "Lutheran" Gnosticism

Sound doctrine is fundamental and foundational to the Christian faith and life, and the right distinction of the Law and the Gospel is the particularly bright light by which the Holy Scriptures are correctly understood.

To have the mind of Christ, however, is not merely a matter of the intellect, but of humility in body and soul, of obedience unto death, and of living self-sacrifice to the glory of God and for the good of the neighbor.  To live by the Spirit of Christ is to live by faith in His Word, and so also to live in the body on earth, in love for God and man.  For the Spirit descends in bodily form, and rests and remains upon the Body of Christ.

Real Wisdom belongs, not to the raw intellectual mastery of data, facts and information, but to the fear of the Lord.  It is not academic, nor clinical, but is possessed by the solemn awe of the great Mystery of godliness.  This true Wisdom is known in her children, who bend their hearts and knees, along with their minds, before the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and at the great and holy Name above all others, which has been given to Him, who alone was crucified for our transgressions and is raised for our justification.

When faith and life are reduced to the formulations and clichés of dogmatic propositions and jingled slogans — asserted and assented to, repeated ad nauseam, and given lip-service while "anything else goes," in the great free-for-all, the banner over which is "adiaphora" — it is no longer Christianity that we are dealing with, but the latest non-incarnation of gnosticism.  Whether the list of facts is long or short, intricate or simplistic, if that is all there is to it, then that is not the faith which is reckoned as righteousness for the sake of Christ; it is a farce and a fiction, which relies upon itself and on the self-righteousness of its own mental mastery.

Twenty years ago, when I was a seminary student, the powers that be and their clever speech-writers suggested that several of my favorite professors were guilty of a "confessional Lutheran gnosticism," because, it was claimed, those men insisted on right doctrine, supposedly to the detriment of missions and evangelism.  The politicos who made such claims knew not the good people they accused, nor the things concerning which they made such confident assertions, but I find it particularly ironic in retrospect.

In the decades that have followed, I have frequently heard the arguments that the actual practice of worship is utterly neutral and of no real significance to the heart and soul of what we are about.  The Lutheran Confessions are thumped as loudly as ever they were in defense of right doctrine, in promotion of the popular theory, that rites and ceremonies are adiaphora, and are therefore up for grabs.

Over and over, I hear tell that, so long as we all agree on the same "doctrine," the differences in practice don't matter.  And, on the surface of such words, what can I possibly do but agree?  I recognize and affirm, as boldly and confidently as anyone, that the unity of the Church does not depend on uniformity in man-made rites and ceremonies; and that differences in adiaphorous traditions are not divisive to the Body of Christ.

The premise I cannot accept, but which I fear will bring great harm upon the fellowship of the Church on earth, is that her doctrine can be hermetically self-contained, inviolate and vital, in well-worn sound bites and in the hallowed pages of CPH publications.  Such a great treasure the Small Catechism is, Christ be praised for His mercy in preserving it among us these many years, and for granting us a renaissance in its actual use!  But the Catechism, and all doctrine, is to be prayed and practiced, not simply memorized and repeated.  The practice won't look quite the same in every place, but the practice actually matters, and it can be externally measured and evaluated because it is practiced in and with the body.

It is the body, first of all, that receives Holy Baptism for the cleansing of the conscience by faith.  It is the body that eats and drinks the Body and Blood of Christ for the forgiveness of sins.  It is the body that kneels at the Altar, where the penitent asks, "Dear pastor, please hear my confession, and grant me forgiveness in order to fulfill God's will."  It is the body also that rests in the Sabbath of Christ, in order to hear and receive the Word and work of the Lord in the external preaching and administration of the Gospel.  So, too, it is the body that gives voice to the Name of the Lord in prayer, praise, thanksgiving, and intercession.  And it is the body that loves the neighbor in his body and life with genuinely good works.

What I long for is not a lock-step uniformity in every jot and tittle of practice.  I don't believe that such a thing is either possible or desirable.  But it is a dangerous gnostic cancer to suppose that our Christian faith and life and fellowship can be summed up in slogans and dogmatic affirmations, while practice is meanwhile treated as a matter of strategy and style, of personal taste and creativity, of no account or consequence to our present confession or posterity.

When everything is left to depend on a word that hasn't become flesh, no matter whether it is a long or short word, demanding or lax, then we have let go of Christ and lost Him.

What I long for is reverence and awe in the presence of the Word who has become flesh, and a confession of His Gospel with both mind and spirit, with hearts and souls and voices, and with bodies of flesh and blood.  So that the God-given freedom of adiaphora will be understood and exercised as a freedom to worship the Father in the Holy Spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in the one true faith of His Body, crucified and risen, given and received.  Then, whether we bend the knee, or stand, or sit, and whatever it is our neighbor does with his or her body, we will not condemn or cast aspersions, but neither will we naively suppose that it doesn't matter.

Let each of us possess his own vessel in purity and honor, and worship the Lord in the splendor of His holiness, and the whole earth tremble before Him, who alone does wondrous things and saves us by the great glory of His grace.

All Those Ceremonies!

All those ceremonies!

All those extravagant, impractical, and unnecessary ceremonies.

All the bending and kneeling and adoring of Jesus.

All the weeping at His beautiful feet.
All the wetting and the washing of His feet.
All the drying of His feet with her hair.
All the kissing of His feet.

And, then, all that perfume, poured out upon His feet.

Pretentious?  Presumptuous?  Hypocritical?  Legalistic?

No, but for this reason I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; for she loves much, and her love testifies to her faith in the Lord's forgiveness of her sins.  She knows where to find and worship the Lord her God, because this Man, Christ Jesus, is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.  The Kingdom of God is at hand in Him.  There is forgiveness and salvation found in no one else.  Therefore, both faith and love lay hold of the one true God in the Body of the incarnate Son.

The Pharisee says, "How dare she!?"  But Jesus says, "She loves Me!."

The crowd complains, "Who is this guy!?"  But the woman says, "He is my Savior!"  Except, she says it, she confesses her faith in Christ and expresses her love for Him, not with words in this case, but with her lavish actions of adoration and grateful devotion.  With her ceremonies.

Our Confessions rightly point to this woman as an example of the true worship of God by faith: For it is in this way that God wants to be worshiped, that is, not by attempts to give Him anything, but by the faith that seeks forgiveness and salvation in Christ Jesus.  Amen.  But the Confessions also note, as the Lord Jesus expressly reveals, that the woman's faith and true worship are demonstrated and manifest in her love for Him.  She is not saved by her ceremonies, but her ceremonies belong to her salvation by faith in Christ Jesus.

What she did was not practical, pragmatic, or productive.  It wasn't necessary.  She did not "have" to do it.  But it did profess Christ Jesus, and, in professing Him, it was pedagogical in catechizing us.  The Lord Himself receives her ceremonies of love, and commends them as evidence of her faith and life and salvation in Him; for they are but the overflowing of His great love for her, and the evidence of His faithfulness toward her.

Another woman, Mary of Bethany, closely follows the example of this woman and her ceremonies.  If it had been somewhat spontaneous the first time, had it actually become some kind of ritual thereafter?  There is no need or point to conjecture.  We are not bound to do any of these things, nor could we do them, exactly, in the way those faithful women were able to do then.  We may, and should, wash our Lord's feet in the feet of His disciples, that is, by works of love and gifts of charity for our neighbors.  The same Lord is also present for us, to love us and serve us, to forgive us and save us, in His means of grace, in His Word and Sacrament, in His Body and His Blood.  We love Him, because He first loves us.  And so we worship and adore Him in the House and at the Table where His Body is found and given for us.

When that second woman had the audacity to anoint the beautiful feet of Jesus with costly perfume, and she was accused of extravagance and waste, the Lord praised her worship as befitting His Cross and Passion, and, He said, wherever in the world His Gospel is preached, what she did for Him would be remembered.

All those ceremonies.

Lift High the Christ, His Flesh and Blood Proclaim

Here is Part IX of my ACELC free conference paper (16 April 2013).  It is one of the sections that I omitted in my presentation of the paper, because of time constraints.  The entire paper will be made available on the ACELC website.

[There is one] particular ceremony, or pair of ceremonies, [that] needs to be considered, because it touches upon a decisive theological point.  Here I refer to the Elevation and the Adoration of Christ in the Sacrament of the Altar.  Actually, more time and attention should be given to this topic than this paper can afford, but for now, if nothing else, let us have it on the table for discussion.

The Elevation of the Sacrament occurs after each of the elements is consecrated with the Word of the Lord.  Thus, after Christ has spoken, “This Is My Body,” His Body is lifted up by the celebrant at the Altar, in and with the consecrated Bread, in order that all may see it; and all are thus invited to adore the Lord in His Body.  In the same way also, after Christ has spoken, “This Is the New Testament in My Blood,” the Chalice is lifted up for all to see, that all may adore the Lord in His Blood.

Luther dealt with questions concerning the Elevation and the Adoration of Christ in the Sacrament throughout his lifetime as a reformer.  His attitude and criteria remained consistent, but were applied somewhat differently in the advice that he gave, depending on the particulars of each situation and its immediate context.  Bear in mind that he had to confront competing challenges on either side: Roman sacrificial notions, and the adoration of the Host apart from the Holy Communion, on the one hand; and Zwinglian denials of the Sacrament altogether, on the other hand.

Because of its associations with the Roman sacrificial Mass, Luther was at first inclined to do away with the Elevation.  However, several considerations led him to preserve the practice, and to defend it against critics and detractors: First, he wanted to exercise patience and care for the piety of the people, lest they be scandalized by such a dramatic change at the highest point of the Divine Service.  Second, he recognized that the Elevation could be understood evangelically, as a commending of the Body of the Christ to the communicants.  For this very reason, Luther notably retained the Elevation in both his Latin and German Masses, describing it as a proclamation of Christ in the Sacrament, and as a gracious invitation to eat and to drink His Body and His Blood for the forgiveness of sins.

As a third and final reason for retaining the Elevation, Luther set himself in opposition to Karlstadt and others, who insisted that the practice was contrary to the Gospel and to the Holy Scriptures, and that it therefore had to be abolished.  Here, as previously mentioned, Luther insisted on its freedom.

It was not Luther, but his own pastor, Johnannes Bugenhagen, who finally did away with the Elevation in Wittenberg (in the late 1530s).  He did so while Luther was away, and there are some indications that Luther was unhappy with this change in practice, especially because there were many people who then perceived it to be a capitulation to Zwinglianism.  In any case, Luther consistently supported Pastor Bugenhagen, and he did not publicly object to the change in ceremony.  Although he mentioned on occasion the possibility of restoring the Elevation to the Liturgy in Wittenberg, that did not happen.

Toward the end of his life, Luther indicated that it would be just as well for the Elevation to be let go from the practice of the churches; not because he was opposed to it, but for the sake of unity among the Lutheran territories, since many of them had already done away with this ceremonial practice.

In considering the Elevation of the Sacrament, it has to be taken into account what a prominent and visible part of the Roman Mass this practice was, and what a volatile issue it became in the context of the Reformation.  In that light, it is actually remarkable that the Lutherans kept it at all, and for so long.  That this continuation of the practice was not solely as a consolation for the weak, nor simply a matter of polemics against the Zwinglians, is demonstrated by a similar but slightly different practice that developed in some of the Lutheran territories of the Sixteenth Century.  In those places, the Body and Blood of Christ were elevated before the people at the Pax Domini, the pastor facing the people with the Host and the Chalice in his hands.  Evidently there was also a rite that would sometimes accompany this new ceremony, drawing upon the words of Luther from one of his writings against Karlstadt: “Look, dear Christian, here are the Body and Blood of your Lord Jesus, which He gives to you for the forgiveness of sins.”  In some cases, this new ceremony was used in addition to the historic Elevation.  Both practices were understood as a strong confession of the Body and Blood of Christ.

With or without the Elevation, as far as Luther himself was concerned, and for other Lutherans after him, there still remained the Adoration of Christ in the Sacrament; although this practice became controversial among the Lutherans, mainly after Luther’s death, in connection with a receptionist trend in Melanchthon and his followers.

The “Adoration,” here, refers specifically to bending the knee (or genuflecting) at the consecration of the Sacrament.  That is to say, it is the bodily worship of Christ, the Lord our God, in His Sacrament.

“Receptionism” is the view that Christ is not present in the bread and wine, except in the actual eating and drinking of the elements.  This view developed with Melanchthon, and continued after him, on the basis of Aristotelian philosophy (or, rather, on a misunderstanding of Aristotle’s “four causes”).  Especially as Melanchthon grew closer to John Calvin, in the years after Luther had died, he and others would make disparaging remarks about “bread worshipers,” referring to those (such as Luther!) who adored the Lord Jesus Christ in His Sacrament.

Luther, in his lifetime, explicitly answered the receptionist position, along with its implications for the celebration of the Sacrament, especially in a couple of letters that he wrote to a Pastor Wolferinus.  Therein he indicated that the proper “use” of the Sacrament, in accordance with the Lord’s Institution, begins with the consecration of the elements (with the Verba Domini) and continues until everything has been consumed.  Within that breadth of “use,” as Luther describes, the bread is the Body of Christ Jesus, and the wine is the Blood of Christ Jesus, exactly as the same Lord Jesus Christ has spoken in the consecration: “This Is My Body,” and “This Is My Blood.”  Therefore, we eat and drink because the Holy Supper is the Body given and the Blood poured out for us.  Likewise, everything is consumed, in keeping with the Word of Christ: “Eat,” and “Drink.”  None of the elements that He has consecrated with His Word should be returned to common usage, nor simply “disposed of.”

The Lutherans of the Sixteenth Century (and well beyond) followed Luther’s lead in this regard, and took these matters quite seriously, as the various Lutheran Church Orders (and several controversies) make plain.  In fact, church practices emulated Luther’s “consecrationist” position, in spite of the growing entrenchment of Melanchthon’s “receptionism” in subsequent generations.  Regrettably, the Formula of Concord, in its article on the Lord’s Supper, has frequently been interpreted through the filters of those later developments, and has therefore been misunderstood in a “receptionist” manner.

As regards the Adoration, in particular, the Formula of Concord has likewise been misunderstood.  On the surface, it would seem as though the Formula rejects this ceremony, when it explicitly disavows the adoration of the bread and wine.  However, that particular “antithesis” is actually confessed in response to those (including Melanchthon) who had accused the Lutherans of “bread worship,” as mentioned earlier.  The point is made, precisely because Luther himself, and many others, did adore the Body and Blood of Christ in the Sacrament, while yet distinguishing His sacred flesh and blood from the creaturely elements of bread and wine, which do of course remain in the Holy Communion.

It is especially clear that the Adoration is actually defended and affirmed, when one compares the Formula of Concord on this point with the corresponding section of the Examination of the Council of Trent, by Martin Chemnitz (a primary author of the Formula).  For “no one except an Arian heretic can or will deny that Christ Himself, true God and Man, who is truly and essentially present in the Supper when it is rightly used, should be adored in Spirit and in Truth in all places but especially where His community is assembled” (FC/SD VII.126).  As Luther had also written in 1544: “In the Sacrament of the Eucharist, which is deserving of honor and adoration, the body and blood of Christ are truly and substantially present, proffered, and received both by the worthy and by the unworthy” (LW 34: 355).

A Few Minutes with Fr. William C. Weedon, LCMS Director of Worship and International Center Chaplain

I recently had the pleasure of spending a few minutes chatting with Fr. William C. Weedon, newly installed LCMS Director of Worship and International Center Chaplain, to ask him a few questions about his new post. Here's his response.

Fr. William C. Weedon, LCMS Director of Worship and International Center Chaplain

GOTTESDIENST: As Director of Worship and IC chaplain, what will some of your duties entail?
WEEDON: Let's start with the easier one: as IC Chaplain I'm responsible for coordinating and planning the services that take place in the International Center Chapel (it needs a name!), and in general finding ways for "the Word of God to dwell richly" among the employees in the building as they seek to seek to serve the needs of the Church. In today's Chapel, President Harrison spoke of the three meanings we find in the NT for "confess" - confession of sins, of the faith, and the confession of praise. As chaplain in this place, it's my calling to assist the workers in embracing all three meanings: learning what it means to live together under the forgiveness of Jesus – and so forgiving one another, building each other up in our wonderful doctrinal heritage, and also growing in the joyous praise of God. They are all tied together as we learn to "say back" to God what He has graciously said and revealed of Himself to us.

As Director of Worship, I'll hope to entice the pastors and parishes of the Synod into a joyous, reverent, and intentional embrace of our heritage as Lutheran Christians – a heritage that virtually drips with the sweetness of the Gospel at every turn. One wonderful thing about that heritage is that it is always open-ended: the Lord of the Church is never done giving His gifts. He always has more: new gifts, new songs, new joys for His Church. But (and this is crucial) these "new" gifts never come by way of replacement of the heritage that has gone before but always as its natural unfolding and growth. "One generation shall declare your works to another." This happens as the song of previous generations lives on on our lips and in our hearts, and as we teach that song to the next generation, and add whatever new the Lord gives in our own day along with it. Also, keep your eye out for workshops for hymn-writers, continued publication of the Let Us Pray series – AND the addition of a set of historic, one-year Let Us Pray cycle, ongoing Lectionary Summaries and perhaps a revival of the Lutheran Musicians Enrichment opportunities.

GOTTESDIENST: You’ve said before that we have a “rich, intentional and beautiful liturgical heritage” and that within that heritage “we possess a wide range of freedom.” What does that mean for LCMS congregations?
WEEDON: The sainted A. C. Piepkorn once famously wrote that the responsible exercise of freedom is itself a catholic virtue. He was right, of course, and yet the chief freedom we are concerned with when we speak of Christian worship is not the freedom from our liturgical heritage, or even the freedom to mold our liturgical heritage, but the freedom that that heritage bears such sublime witness to: the liberation of creation from its bondage to decay, sin and death! Freedom isn't making up a new liturgy each week – in fact, that can end up being bondage to the itch for the novel that Luther decried in the intro to the German Mass. On the contrary, the freedom to which our liturgical and hymnological heritage bears witness is the freedom to live in the Spirit where all is gift from the hand of the Crucified and Risen One (even the sufferings!) who IS the Forgiveness of our sin and the Destruction of all our death, and so where all of life is referred in thanksgiving to His heavenly Father, who has now become our Father. This is the freedom to be the children of God that our Baptism has made us, the freedom to which absolution constantly restores us, and that the most venerable Eucharist strengthens within us every time we receive it in the joys of repentance and faith.

GOTTESDIENST: How can pastors be more purposeful in cultivating a rich liturgical life within their congregation?
WEEDON: First let them be men of prayer. The Daily Office should be no stranger to our pastors. We have rich resource here. I think of Treasury of Daily Prayer or The Brotherhood Prayerbook among others. Let the pastors be men of prayer and among their concerns in prayer, let them pray for the renewal of their parishes (that they might truly become outposts, colonies of the Age to Come)and for a growing and deep reverence and love for the Blessed Eucharist in their congregations. Let's also watch HOW we conduct ourselves in the service of bringing the gifts of God to the people of God. Not stiff and wooden and choreographed, certainly not casual and comfortable, but with fear and trembling, commingled with the unutterable joy of being in the presence of the Lamb of God with all the saints and angels. When pastors orient themselves toward this great present but unseen reality in our worship, it will then invite the congregation along with them into the holy presence. We also need to remember this: the liturgy is at its heart simply prayed confession, prayed doctrine. Discomfort with our historic liturgy may sometimes be a sign and symptom of discomfort with the Lutheran doctrine embedded in it. That needs then to be addressed for what it is: not a quarrel about worship style, but a struggle to confess the truth of God.

GOTTESDIENST: What can the pastors of the LCMS be doing or praying for that will assist you in your new role?
WEEDON: The pastors of the LCMS need above all to attend to this: the preaching of the Word entrusted to them. The preaching of God's law in such a way that the sinner is not merely irritated but slain; the preaching of the Gospel in such clarity that the slain are raised from the dead by the life-giving Spirit. I have said for many years that what we face in the Synod is not so much a crisis of liturgy as a crisis of preaching. Lutheran liturgy tends to take care of itself when the preaching is strong. There is nothing that would so strengthen the worship life of the congregations of our Synod, nothing that would so delight our Lord's heart, as more careful attention to our preaching. If there is one thing we should ask the Lord of the Church to grant us, it is renewal in the pulpit. That will lead, I firmly believe, to renewal at the altar, in the choir loft, and out in the community.

Fr. Weedon's installation as LCMS Director of Worship and International Center Chaplain

Paying for the Ambiance

Recent conversations with a younger colleague have included a fair amount of deja vu, as he has been experiencing many of the same things that I did in my first several years as a pastor. He's a good and faithful man, and I'm impressed with the way that he's handling himself and responding to the various situations that he faces. I know that he's going to do well, but I'm also glad for the chance to serve him as a sounding board and a sympathetic ear, because I know how much it meant to me, when I was at that point, to find the same.

As I listen to my friend and colleague, and as I recall my own past experience, I take note again how powerful ceremonies are. Little things clearly mean a lot, in this respect, and all the rhetoric in the world will not render the actual practice of adiaphora insignificant. Something as simple and unobtrusive as the sign of the cross, or as basic and biblical as kneeling before the Lord, can make a lasting impression. The freedom of such things does not rob them of real point and purpose.

At the same time, I also realize with growing clarity that there is something else at work, which, while it does permeate and inform the use of reverent ceremonies, is already yet deeper than ceremony and prior to it. Of course, I'm not here referring to the constitutive ceremonies of the Holy Sacraments, which are foundational and central to the Church and to the Christian faith and life. Rather, I'm talking about an attitude of the heart and mind that precedes the use of godly human ceremonies, such as vestments and chanting, the sign of the cross, elevation and genuflection.

The attitude of which I speak is a matter of repentant faith, but also of theological conviction. It belongs to personal piety, reverence and worship, but also to pastoral commitment, faithfulness and service. It will insist on that which God has commanded, and refuse what He has forbidden. It will also leave free what God has left free; which means that it may live without the use of godly human ceremonies, and it may allow the use of less-than-ideal practices, in love for the neighbor. Lay people may tolerate more or fewer ceremonies than they prefer, for the sake of hearing the Gospel rightly preached and receiving the Sacrament according to the Word of Christ. Pastors, likewise, may practice more or fewer ceremonies than they prefer, in order to care for their congregations with gentle kindness and evangelical patience. I know that many pastors, including my young friend and colleague, willingly compromise their own preferences for the sake of pastoral care. It is good and right that they do.

Yet, the attitude of which I speak still emerges, no matter how few or many ceremonies it may exercise in practice. It makes an impression and leaves a mark, sometimes in ways that are difficult, if not impossible, to put a finger on. I have in mind an ambiance that permeates every word, every movement, whether in sparse simplicity or with the most elaborate and extensive ceremony. By the same token, such ambiance cannot be faked by any amount of formality, if the attitude of the heart and mind is absent.

A pastor who understands and loves the Gospel as the open heart of God in Christ — by which sinners are forgiven and the ungodly are justified by grace, by the Atonement of the Lord's own Cross and Passion — such a pastor cannot help but preach and teach in harmony with that Gospel. A pastor who knows the beauty and benefit of Holy Absolution will be engaged in genuine pastoral care, in conversation as in the confessional; because the Office of the Keys defines the entire Office of the Holy Ministry, which is not only what the pastor does, but who he is. A pastor who has realized and perceives that Holy Baptism is fundamental and foundational to the entire Christian faith and life, and that the Holy Communion is the beating heart and center of the Church, cannot help but orientate himself and everything he does in relation to those Holy Sacraments. His whole bearing and demeanor will bend and gravitate toward those means of grace, like a plant finding the sunlight; whether he finds himself able to elevate the Sacrament or bend the knee before it; with or without traditional vestments.

Where there is the attitude of which I speak, there will be the ambiance I have in mind: an ambiance that exudes the most reverent High Church Liturgy and the most ancient catholicity of the Lord's Bride, fully adorned as a Queen by His Gospel, even when she must content herself with the simple attire of a humble peasant in her life on earth.

Where there is that attitude and ambiance, a new pastor is likely to pay for it, even as he bends over backwards to accommodate the people of his congregation with gentleness and patient care. He may give up and do without godly human ceremonies, and move ever so slowly with respect to any changes in practice. And yet, the people will perceive that there is something about this new pastor and his practice, something that still says "catholic." They will feel the ambiance, even though they can't identify the source or cause of it. Many of the people may be uncomfortable at first, but, given time, most of them will grow into it and learn to love it, because, in their faithful pastor's preaching and teaching, they will learn to discover its source in the Gospel. Others will continue to chafe at the catholic ambiance they feel, and they will continue to agitate against it. Sadly, in some cases, those people will succeed in driving their pastor into the ground, or driving him away. In other cases, also sadly, they will give up and go away themselves, refusing to receive the good gifts that God would give them through their pastor.

But the pastor who really knows and loves the Gospel, who knows its heart and center in the Sacrament, cannot do away with the ambiance that undergirds his every move and permeates his every word. He may not even realize what it is that's making people respond in the way they are, especially when he's doing everything he can to put them at ease and to earn their trust and confidence as a tender shepherd of the Lord's sheep, as a loving father of the Lord's children. It may well break his heart at times, to see people get frustrated with him, to get angry at him, and even to leave the Church because of what he's "doing." But, in truth, it isn't anything he's "doing," so much as it is simply who and what he is: a man of the Gospel.

The ambiance of the Gospel is the warp and woof of true catholicity, and it neither can nor should be done away with. It is neither artifice nor affectation, but comprises an attitude of genuine affection for Christ Jesus.

Here is the good news, which neither the pastor nor the people have to pay for, because it has been purchased by the Lord Jesus and it is given freely to His Church by Him: The ambiance of His Gospel really does adorn even the humblest celebration of the Divine Service with the glorious beauty of heaven. Where His forgiveness is preached and heard, where His Body and Blood are given and received, there is the Lord's Temple on earth, outdoing King Solomon and surpassing the Emperor Justinian. There is an ambiance that no five-star restaurant on earth could ever hope to achieve. As such, the faithful pastor who must forego the use of many godly human ceremonies should not suppose that he or his congregation are lacking anything in piety, reverence, or worship. Let him constrain and discipline himself in the conduct of the Service, in the administration of the Sacrament, but let him do so in the confidence that the Church and Liturgy of Christ are adorned with His grace, mercy and peace.

Palm Sunday Gospel

For years I didn't know that the Palm Sunday Gospel reading is not the triumphal entry Gospel.  That Gospel is supposed to be read before the opening procession, from the back (or even outside, wherever the procession begins), as part of an opening ritual.  For some, the opening includes the blessing of the palms; for others, at least an opening Palm Sunday Collect and the triumphal entry Gospel.

Then the procession with palms comes.  In our parish, all the members proceed with palms, reverence, and return to their seats, during the singing of "All Glory, Laud, and Honor" (the traditional Palm Sunday processional hymn).

This allows for the Passion according the St. Matthew to be read at the place appointed for the Gospel.

Now that Passion is rather long: two entire chapters, 26 and 27.  So here is an acceptable way to break it up.  I say acceptable, because on the one hand there has long been a tradition of having several appointed readers, and on the other hand, even J. S. Bach's Passions are wont to intersperse hymns.

We pass out a little booklet to every congregant.  There are three speaking roles.  The subdeacon (or some other suitable, trained man) reads the narrator's part, from the lectern.  The celebrant reads all of Christ's parts, from the pulpit.  And the parts of all the others in the Gospel (the crowd, Pilate, Peter, Judas, etc.) are read by the congregation.

At several points during the reading, an appropriate hymn stanza is sung.  Offhand I recall some of the stanzas from "O Sacred Head," "Jesus, Grant that Balm and Healing," and, one I particularly like, which was employed in Bach's St. John Passion, very near the end, the third stanza of "Lord, Thee I Love with All My Heart."  That one is particularly moving,  at that juncture.

In similar fashion the Gospel of St. Luke will be read at Wednesday Mass, and the Gospel of St. John on Good Friday.

The Ceremonies of Passiontide

Feel free to modify at will for use in your bulletins, etc.

The final stage in our symbolic journey toward Easter is Passiontide, which begins with Judica, the 5th Sunday in Lent. The crosses are now covered, triptychs are closed, and even the Gloria
Patri disappears for a while.

A common question is “Why do we drape and cover the crosses as we get closer to Good Friday, as our attention upon the last hours and the sufferings of Our Lord increases?”

We do this because we don’t deserve to look upon the cross. We are not worthy of the Sacrifice. The cross is our greatest and most cherished symbol. So it is partially taken away from us for a short time, that we might better appreciate it when it returns.

The crosses are not taken away completely. They are not removed. They are covered. We can see outlines of the crosses, but their beauty and details are fuzzy. This symbolizes the reality that our grief prevents us from seeing clearly until the Good Friday liturgy and, of course, Easter. This also reminds us of Our Lord's actions in response to the violence of the people in the Judica Gospel, the Lord "Jesus hid Himself." That is why the crosses and statues are veiled during the Service after the reading of the Gospel.

The idea of removing the Gloria Patri is much the same. The Triune Name given at the Ascension is the fullest revelation of God’s Name given to men. To take away the Gloria Patri for two weeks is a bit jarring. It is particularly awkward to not sing it at the end of the Nunc Dimitis. Its short-term removal serves to draw attention to it.

All of this is that we would learn to mortify the flesh and to depend more and more upon the grace of God in Christ. For never, even in our most somber of ceremonies, is the Church in doubt about the end. Jesus died but is not dead. Jesus lives. Easter is coming. Our Hallelujahs, Gloria Patris, crosses, fatty foods, and the like shall all return, but even better than that, we shall have them forever in heaven when our own resurrections occur.

Passiontide extends through Holy Week and the Triduum (“three holy days”—which includes Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday). At the conclusion of the Maundy Thursday Service the Altar will be stripped, the Sanctuary decorations, such as the candelabra, will be removed. Even the main crucifix will be carried out, only to be carried back in during the reproaches on Good Friday. All that will be left in the Sanctuary are the immovable pieces of furniture, laid bare. On Good Friday and the Easter Vigil, while all is bare, the normal responses and introductions are removed from the readings.

The intensity builds from now until Holy Saturday when we finally arrive at the empty tomb but not at an empty Altar.

An Example of Reverent Worship and Why It Matters

By Larry Beane



Sometimes there is a tendency for people to miss the point about Gottesdienst.  Some people attack a strawman that Gottesdienst is only about "high" worship practices and that we somehow look down upon those who do not practice "high enough" worship.  This false stereotype was recognized by the Rev. Paul Beisel in his comment in a previous post:

I have never, in all my years as a follower of Gottesdiest, ever heard or read any criticism of a pastor or congregation that does not make full use of the broad array of ceremonial that is at our disposal from historic Lutheranism. I have read a lot of critique of pastors who (1) put forth no effort to model reverence in their conduct of the liturgy and (2) make no effort to learn the whats and the whys of Lutheran ceremonial. I am frankly quite irritated with the caricature that is being put forth of these guys as being obsessed with rubrics for the sake of rubrics, or that they are looking down on their brothers that do not have the same amount of ceremonial as they use.

In fact, Gottesdienst is not about "high church."  Rather it is about "reverence."

One can worship casually, and even disrespectfully, with a full measure of incense and bells and vestments and artwork.  And conversely one can worship reverently in a mud hut or prison cell.  Ceremonies, when done properly and in a dignified manner, are of great help to proclaiming the Gospel that we confess as well as establishing a tone of reverence.  And if a congregation can afford nice things, such as well-made altar linens, beautiful chasubles, a pipe organ, refined acoustics, inspiring artwork, dignified bells, aromatic incense, elegant candlesticks, aesthetically-pleasing altars and fonts and pulpits, etc., these things may well help to foster reverence and a sense of the "otherworldliness" that is the Divine Service of the Church.  The Lord Himself expressed His preference for beauty and dignity in worship (e.g. in the Book of Leviticus).

But even lacking these material things, a pastor can still conduct worship in a reverent manner.  He can still "take pains" to show fear, love, and trust in the Lord by conducting himself liturgically with unapologetic and humble respect for that which is holy.  He can still bow and chant and make the sign of the cross and carry himself with dignity.  The congregation likewise can recognize the miraculous and the supernatural, the real presence of Jesus, in their midst.  And this reverence can even be expressed in a beauty parlor without an organ, with the bare minimum of vestments, and a simple covered table to act as an altar.

The above footage includes parts of the Divine Service as celebrated by Father Vladislav Ivanov and Deacon Victor Shtraube of Holy Spirit congregation (SELC) in Chelyabinsk, Russia.  Holy Spirit rents a hall for services, and on this date, July 18, 2011, they only had access to a beauty parlor.  This was recorded on a pocket video camera by me (my apologies for the quality of the footage).

In order to point the congregation to Christ, the pastor and deacon reverently put a crucifix on the wall, hid the towels that were hung out to dry, carefully set the table with linens, candles, and a cross, placed the sacramental elements on the altar, and the congregation sang the Mass (including the hymns) a cappella. 

The clergy are not eschewing chasuble and dalmatic because they are "too catholic" or to accommodate "the youth" or out of fear of being labeled "high church."  They simply cannot afford them.  They have no objection to "smells and bells" (which are used in other Russian churches) - they simply don't have these things.  But what they do have is faith, and the celebrant and his assistant communicate that faith in their heartfelt reverence, in the way they carry themselves, in their attention to ceremony.

Holy Spirit Lutheran Church in Chelyabinsk is a sister congregation to my own.  It was a great joy and privilege to take the holy body and blood of our Lord from the hands of Fr. Vlad and Dcn. Victor, and to participate with Fr. Sergei Glushkov (parish priest of Sts. Peter and Paul in Yekaterinburg, who is the equivalent of our "circuit counselor") and the laity of the congregation in this reverent Divine Service.  Though it was foreign to me linguistically, it was also familiar liturgically.  For Christ was present in Word and Sacrament, and the fact that we were in a beauty salon without icons, without stained glass, and without an organ - did not detract from the reverence of the service.  And there is no requirement that every rubric must be the same the world over.  Though I may conduct certain ceremonies a little differently, the liturgy was clearly Lutheran and clearly focused on Christ.

Reverence is not necessarily "high church."  But by the same token, what does it say about our culture in the LCMS when we have the money and the means to create beautiful sanctuaries but often deliberately choose to worship in spartan surroundings that do not make use of art and beauty to point us to the incarnate Christ?  The saints of Holy Spirit in Chelyabinsk "take pains" to show reverence.  Many of our pastors often do not seem to care about conducting worship reverently.  Or perhaps they honestly don't know how to behave reverently in the chancel.

This, to me, is something that Gottesdienst can help with here in our own country, where we are not impoverished by material want so much as by a kind of self-imposed poverty of not recognizing the treasure we have within our own Lutheran tradition.  Those who take the time to read Gottesdienst and/or Gottesdienst Online will learn that the all-too common descriptions on the internet about us are nothing more than what Pastor Beisel said they are: one-dimensional "caricatures."


The liturgy should be conducted in as rich and full and dignified manner as circumstances allow - at least if we truly believe what we say we believe.  Wherever Christians worship, we should strive to make our liturgy as fitting and as dignified as we can, as means and circumstances permit.  Whenever Christians worship, we should strive to be as reverent as we  can.  For we are talking about the presence of Christ, the forgiveness of sins, and eternal life - whether in a finely-proportioned cathedral or in a cramped beauty parlor.  I'm grateful that for twenty years, Gottesdienst has been stressing to pastors and laymen the importance of dignity and reverence in our traditional liturgical ceremonies for the sake of our confession of Christ.

Chanting, Ceremonies, and Consciences

At a recent gathering where I was privy to some of the discussions and decisions regarding the conduct of the services, a quite different approach was taken to chanting (and to the music in general) than was taken with respect to other ceremonies.

One ceremony, in particular, was a matter of concern: Some of the pastors preferred to bend the knee (to genuflect), and others were not so inclined. No one disputed the freedom of this ceremony. No one suggested that it was commanded by God; nor did anyone argue that it was forbidden. But some were concerned that, by engaging in this admittedly free ceremony, the pastors who did so were confusing the people and burdening consciences. So, in order to avoid this danger, the ceremony was ruled "out of order."

Ceremonies in general were viewed with similar caution and suspicion, though I'm not aware that any other practices were given the ax. There were differences of opinion, naturally, but the basic perspective of those in charge seemed to be, that pastors should not risk doing anything that isn't necessary, pedagogical, or practical. It was implied that nothing should be done simply for the sake of reverence, elegance, and beauty . . .

Except for the ceremony of chanting (and music in general). In this case, the standard was set very high. The liturgy was not only to be chanted, but to be chanted well. It was expected to be beautiful. It was deliberately intended to impress the Christians who were gathered together for worship. It was to show the lay people an example of how nicely things could be done, even if those things weren't being done (or done so well) in their home congregations.

I do not recall any conversations as to whether chanting might burden anyone's conscience. Nor did I consider such concerns at the time. Why would I? I don't believe that the simple practice of a free ceremony burdens consciences. I do understand that what pastors do is not just a matter of their own personal piety, but a public profession of the faith, as well as a powerful means of catechesis. But where the Word of God is being taught in its truth and purity, and the Law and the Gospel are being properly distinguished, and the Gospel is predominating, there is little danger that chanting, as opposed to speaking, is going to shipwreck anyone's faith. There's precious little danger that bending the knee, as opposed to standing, will do so, either.

In retrospect, though, I am thinking about the insistence on a certain proficiency and quality of chanting. I'm wondering, too, about those pastors who were not permitted to participate in the services because their chanting wasn't up to snuff. What about the burden on their consciences? What about the message sent to other pastors, and to would-be future pastors?

I do believe that having standards is not only fine, but good and right. We should put our best foot forward. We should offer our best abilities and talents, the first fruits of God's good gifts to us. Not everyone has the same gifts, but each of us should serve where he is qualified to do so, as well as he can. So, it seems to me that, in certain circumstances, it is appropriate for a pastor who is not able to chant so well to step aside, in order that another pastor may serve that role with God-given skill. In other cases, and certainly within his own congregation, a pastor should simply chant as well as he is able, or else speak the Liturgy with simple dignity and reverence.

With that, I'm also thinking about the very different way that bending the knee was considered and dealt with at that gathering, in contrast to chanting. If it is appropriate to have high standards for the latter, should there not also be similar or analogous standards for the posture and movement of those pastors who serve at the Lord's Altar? As chanting is a form of elevated speech, so is bending the knee a more profound expression of humility. One's heart can be equally faithful with or without chanting, whether standing or kneeling; or equally hypocritical, either way. But we are dealing here with standards of conduct, that is to say, with outward ceremonies; which, while free, are not incidental. Clearly, these things have an impact and make an impression.

So, what is my point? On the one hand, I'm looking for greater clarity and consistency in the way that ceremonies are considered. I'm curious whether Lutherans may be particularly prone to a double-standard in this respect, in dealing with music on a quite different level than other ceremonies. Surely our concern for the neighbor's conscience should prevail in all circumstances, along with our strong defense and right exercise of freedom. And by the same token, we should be as concerned about the posture and movement of our bodies as we are about the quality and character of our voices. We should neither be cocky about our chanting, nor careless and cavalier in the conduct of any other ceremonies. The same Lord is the object of devout faith and reverent worship in each case, and the same neighbors are set alongside of us, that we might serve them with Christian courtesy, respect and love.

On Being Witting or Unwitting Ritualists

The article "Witting or Unwitting Ritualists," by Dr. John Kleinig is a profound argument for why I try to incorporate the ceremonies of the Western Rite. His analysis picks up and expands upon what our Lutheran Confessions say regarding ceremonies: "1] Falsely are our churches accused of abolishing the Mass; for the Mass is retained among 2] us, and celebrated with the highest reverence. Nearly all the usual ceremonies are also preserved, save that the parts sung in Latin are interspersed here and there with German hymns, which have been added 3] to teach the people. For ceremonies are needed to this end alone that the unlearned 4] be taught [what they need to know of Christ]" (AC XXIV:1-4).

Kleinig wrote:

"All this is of great importance when we consider the rituals associated with Christian worship. Lutherans all agree that the liturgy should communicate the Gospel. Now, the traditional danger in this is that we then think about the Gospel only in intellectual terms. But since the Gospel is Christ’s life incarnate for us, and our life incarnate in Christ, that is, a whole way of life lived by the grace of God, it must be communicated totally to the whole person. And that happens via the ritual proclamation of God’s Word, and the ritual performance of the sacraments. The Gospel requires ritual enactment for it to take its full effect. Yet, we must always remember that even the best ritual is never an end in itself; it must always serve the Gospel and communicate it effectively to those who are to receive it" (Kleinig, "Ritualists", 7).

And again . . .

"While Luther and the reformers with him were critical of many contemporary ceremonies and rites, they did not attack and abolish them - as did the enthusiasts who were totally averse to all external ritual, and wished to de-ritualize Christian worship in favour of inner experience. The reformers were bent, rather, on sorting out the ritual confusion all around them. They therefore made a number of crucial distinctions. First, they insisted on the primacy of the means of grace which Christ himself had established by his command and backed up by his promises. These were the essential parts of Christian worship, and so were not subject to negotiation. The Word of God then instituted and decided what was absolutely necessary in Christian ritual.

"Secondly, the reformers recognized that there were certain ‘rites and ceremonies’ which were either inherited from Judaism or invented by the church to communicate the fullness of the Gospel and to elicit a full response to it. They realized that, even though these rites had not been instituted by Christ, they were necessary for the ‘good order’, ‘well being’, and ‘discipline’ of the church. Nevertheless, these rites could vary from time to time and place to place, provided that they were in accord with God’s Word and consistent with the Gospel.

"Lastly, the reformers condemned as idolatrous those rites and ceremonies which were either forbidden by Scripture or incompatible with the Gospel. 

"Now, none of this makes any sense unless the reformers were convinced that ritual was important in worship, because it involved the activity of the Triune God in the means of grace" (Kleinig, "Ritualists," 8-9).

And finally . . .

"Every pastor is either a witting or unwitting ritualist. He is, after all, responsible for the performance of that ritual which is necessary for the communication of the Gospel to the members of his congregation. That is not always an easy business, nor is its importance always appreciated; for, while the Lutheran Church has traditionally been a liturgical church, it exists in a culture where liturgical worship, with its emphasis on corporate and supernatural activity, has become alien, incomprehensible, and even nonsensical to many people. So, unless the pastor understands the role of ritual in worship, and creates some appreciation for it by his leadership, both he and his congregation will suffer confusion. They will be caught between the devil of trendy, liturgical innovation, and the deep blue sea of obstinate, liturgical traditionalism. 

"As a church we, therefore, need to perform our rituals wittingly, without becoming either reactionary ritualists, insensitive to the needs of people, or individualistic anti-ritualists who damage our congregations. We may even eventually come to a rather unexpected appreciation of the liberating power and enriching beauty of ritual" (Kleinig, "Ritualists," 9).

The question is not whether we will be ritualists and users of ceremony. For ceremony and ritual are inherent in everything we do. The question is how we will use that ritual and ceremony, and will it communicate what's of the church, what's timeless and everlasting, what saves, forgives, and gives life.


These are just some of the highlights, but I recommend the entire article. 

Goldilocks, George Carlin, and the Middle of the Road

By Larry Beane

"This one is just right!"

~ Goldilocks

“Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?”

~ George Carlin

In some ways, the liturgy is like a baseball glove or a favorite pair of jeans.  Pastors and laymen become comfortable with a certain (for lack of better terminology) "height."  That is to say, a certain level of ceremony during worship.

There are indeed very "low church" Lutheran congregations and pastors - those who eschew such vestments as chasuble and alb in favor of cassock and surplice, or in some cases, a choir gown over a shirt and tie.  They prefer to either speak the liturgy, or at least have the pastor speak his parts of the liturgical dialogue while the people sing their responses.  Genuflecting and elevating at the altar are out of the question.  Some may frown upon the sign of the cross and the use of a chalice.  Some such congregations de-emphasize the sacramental element of the liturgy so as to celebrate the Eucharist with less frequency than the "every Sunday and every feast day" description in the Augsburg Confession.

I do think the number of such congregations has grown smaller in recent years.

If a new pastor were to come along in one of them and sing his parts of the service, cross himself, put a chalice on the altar, and start preaching about having communion every Sunday - some people would (naturally) get uncomfortable.  There may even be suspicions and whispered accusations of "Romanism."  For in the mind of someone used to such a low level of ceremony, anything "higher" is somehow "too catholic."

There are also very "high church" Lutheran congregations and pastors - those who make full use the the traditional vestments, such as chasubles, and in such services as ordinations, perhaps even a cope.  Some LCMS district presidents carry bishop's crosiers, and one even wears a miter on occasion.

What was once considered "high church" has become normalized.  It is more common nowadays for pastors to chant, genuflect, elevate, and it is hardly uncommon for pastors and laymen to cross themselves.  Incense is not common, but nor is it unheard of in many of our churches.  Most congregations these days offer both the chalice and some form of individual cup, and celebrate the Lord's Supper every Sunday.

And while not all of these practices are the norm in all places, they are certainly not uncommon - especially chanting, crossing, and chasubles - which are all now quite mainstream.  A few decades ago, these might have been considered "extreme" or "high church" or "too catholic" by many.

There has indeed been a movement back toward our Lutheran roots - including our ceremonies - much of which were lost over the last hundred years as German immigrants adopted the language and customs of their non-Lutheran American neighbors.  The blessings of ceremony - as articulated in our Book of Concord - have been rediscovered and re-implemented in churches across the country.  I can't cite any studies, but I don't know that I would get much argument if I were to assert that the average "height" of the typical LCMS congregation - averaged overall - has increased consistently over the last few decades.  And this trend has continued even in the time-frame since the death (nearly four decades ago) of Dr. Herman Sasse, who is often cited for his distrust of the Liturgical Movement.  What he viewed askance in his day has actually become rather ordinary among mainstream LCMS Lutherans.  His warning against widespread defections to Rome have proven (by hindsight) to be unfounded.

For every Lutheran pastor who becomes a Roman Catholic, there are probably a hundred who now wear a chasuble with no thought of leaving our confession.  What should concern us far more is the large numbers of pastors who leave the ministry burned out, those abused by congregations and/or district presidents, as well as those who linger in CRM status year after year - not to mention candidates who may never get a call.  These are much more realistic (and common) problems facing us than the occasional defection of a pastor to Rome.

Can you just imagine what Dr. Sasse would have thought about a mitered bishop preaching at the installation of a synodical president in the chapel of one of our seminaries?

But the Carlin Observation is alive and well among those who warn against "extremism" in matters of ceremony and liturgy.  Playing the role of a liturgical Goldilocks ("not too high... not too low... just right!"), some will offer opposite-and-equal criticisms against both non-liturgical "praise" services (Carlin's "idiots") and the "Gottesdienst Crowd" (Carlin's "maniacs") - as though these are two equally un-Lutheran choices.  Some may argue for a certain level of ceremony, and not anything more - as if there is some kind of Golden Mean, a "just right" for everyone.  It calls to mind a joke by Dr. Norman Nagel (as recounted by one of his former students, now a professor) who advised pastors (with tongue in cheek) to wear their stoles a little crooked so as not to be thought of as "high church."

In many areas of life, moderation is certainly wise: beer, fried chicken, cigars, etc.  But sometimes moderation is not such a good thing: teaching correct doctrine, being true to one's vows (ordination, wedding, promise to tell the truth in court, etc.), preaching the law in its severity, preaching the gospel in its sweetness, being well-groomed and hygienic, being deferential to ladies and to children, politeness, genuineness, a commitment to excellence in one's various vocations, taking pains to communicate through ceremony what we confess, etc.

I don't think anyone would want to go the Goldilocks route in such matters, seeing a Happy Medium between the "extremes" of, say "Gentleman" and "Philistine."  What would such moderation look like?  A guy who only belches and wipes his nose on his sleeve occasionally at the dinner table?

Moreover, the argument that "smells and bells" and "happy clappy" are two sides of the same coin is a false analogy, and nowhere near a valid approach to liturgy.  It is a convenient way to appeal to the center, to the majority that are somewhere in the middle, to those who (for whatever reason) are not interested in pursuing a richer ceremonial and liturgical life in the parish as has been the trend among our synod as a whole for decades.  Liturgy is normative in our Lutheran confessions.  Going without the liturgy is un-Lutheran and antithetical to our confession.  On the other hand, being "high church" is consistent within our tradition as articulated in the Book of Concord.  To lump the two together in a box and label them both un-Lutheran is just plain wrong.

Higher is not necessarily better.  But we have been on a trajectory for decades to elevate the ceremonial in our churches - for these ceremonies "teach the people" and confess (to ourselves and to the outside world) what we believe is really happening on our altars.  Reverence can be shown (and indeed ought to be shown) even when Masses are said in muddy ditches with soldiers, even when said on food trays in a hospital, even when such niceties as altar cloths and candles and chasubles and an organ are not present.  And even when parochial considerations make it premature or ill-advised for a pastor to introduce something like a chasuble, he can (and should) still carry himself with dignity, not flippantly, not casually, not in some kind of affected slovenliness so as to avoid the accusation of being too "high church" in some Quixotic Goldilocks extremism of moderation.

Indeed, there are pitfalls of extreme moderation.  There are faithful people who are forced to commune without a chalice because of the pastor's timidity.  There are faithful people who go week in and week out without every Sunday communion because the pastor is trying to avoid extremes.  There are faithful people who continue to believe that the sign of the cross and the crucifix are things that are for other Christians, not for Lutherans - and thus do not benefit from such expressions of the incarnational and cruciform faith as an aid to prayer and devotional life.  Being a moderate extremist is also a fast path to Phariseeism, as one gets to be the liturgical Goldilocks, a self-appointed policeman who gets to chide both "high" and "low" alike - in fact, anyone who doesn't do it just the way he does, anyone who dares to deviate from his own personal norm.

It is George Carlin's observation about driving speed applied to liturgical ceremony.

I don't claim to speak for anyone else at Gottesdienst, but our motto is most certainly not "higher is better" and "a thurible in every chancel."

What is important is faith in Christ the Crucified One who died for the forgiveness of sins and to give us eternal life - working through the means of preaching and sacraments.  We do believe that as Lutherans, we ought not not practice moderation in communicating God's grace in Word and sacrament, in what we say and in what we do - including how we do it.  Often what we say can be undone (or enhanced) by how we say it.  And so, we emphasize ceremonies as tools of communication - even as ceremonies were nearly all retained by our Lutheran forefathers.  We are pleased to see ceremonies returning to our liturgical life in North American Lutheranism.  But if you are going to make use of traditional ceremonies as teachers and communicators of God's grace and Christ's presence (and we do think you should - exercising proper pastoral care and wisdom, of course), then everyone - pastors and laymen - ought to know how to do them properly, what the etiquette is, how to communicate the gospel in a nonverbal way - both within the church and to those outside the church - so that we might confess with clarity.  Anyone who would mock a careful emphasis on propriety and "taking pains" in matters of worship, even in matters that might appear to be petty details, might want to restudy Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers.  If we are serious about the real presence of Christ on our altars, we ought to be serious about our conduct in that real presence.

Ceremonies are not about looking pretty, but rather about communicating well and with excellence.  Ultimately, it's all about charity, humility, and love.  A man who loves his wife will "take pains" in the way he acts around her, treats her, and speaks to her.  Christ took great pains for us on the cross.  And we "take pains" to confess this truth with clarity and in love.

In the final analysis, it is all about God's grace.

And when it comes to God's grace, I think "moderation" falls into the category of what you often find in the middle of the road, the ultimate symbol of the "extreme moderate"...