The Pro-Life Mask

Todd Akin recently accomplished something that I had always considered impossible.  With his odd attempt to explain that abortion is not morally acceptable even if a woman has been raped, Rep. Akin convinced me that abortion rights advocates may have been right all along.

Not that they have been right that abortion should be legal.  The Word of God teaches us that, from the very moment of conception, we are fully human, fully human sinners in need of Christ's forgiveness and fully clothed in the dignity that God commands must be given to all the descendants of Adam and Eve.  And this Biblical teaching that life begins at conception is scientifically echoed in the fact that, at the moment of conception, you find unique human DNA that is alive, cells that are growing, dividing, developing into tissue and organs and systems.  If this "glob of cells" were just a part of the mother's body, she would certainly be as free to dispose of it as if it were her appendix.  But it is not her body.  It is the body of another human being.  It is a life which cannot justifiably be taken.  And to take that life is a murderous act.

So they have not been right in defending abortion.  Rather, abortion rights advocates have been right in their contention that pro-life advocates simply want to control women.  Todd Akin, or rather the response from many pro-life politicians and personalities to his comments, convinced me of this.

Mitt Romney's campaign, for example, made sure to reassert that the GOP nominee does not oppose abortion in the cases of rape or incest.  The media also was quick to point out how out of touch with mainstream America Akin's opposition to abortion in cases of rape is, citing that only 17% of Americans believe that abortion should be outlawed in all circumstances, a much lower figure than the fifty-ish percent of people who identify themselves as somewhere on the pro-life spectrum.

Obviously rape is a deplorable act, a dehumanizing crime that continues striking with psychological violence long after the physical violence has concluded.  And, at the risk of disagreeing with Jacob the Patriarch, I believe that the Shechemites got what they deserved when Simeon and Levi put them to the sword in defense of their sister. But, in spite of all that, what are Gov. Romney and other pro-life voices trying to say when they reaffirm that they don't oppose abortion in cases of rape?

Surely they're not saying life begins at conception except when a woman is raped, in which case life only begins if a raped woman wants that life to have begun.  Such a position would be as scientifically indefensible as Rep. Akin's belief that a woman's ovaries have a built in Star Wars Missile Defense Shield in the event of rape.  Rather, what pro-life voices are saying when they affirm the rape exception is this woman should get a pass on having to carry this child to term because getting pregnant wasn't her fault.

And, in saying that, what are they also saying?  But all those other women chose to sleep with their husbands, their boyfriends, their drunken hookup partners, and they should have to take responsibility for their actions.  They agreed to participate in marital relations or fornication or adultery, so they should have to face the consequences of the decisions they made willingly.

So these voices don't oppose abortion out of a genuine respect for unborn life.  They don't believe that this living, growing, developing thing within a mother's womb deserves the same dignity and protection that you and I deserve, regardless of how conception occurred.  No, instead, these voices simply want women to act like grownups, to be responsible enough to pay the piper when their actions come back to bite them in the uterus.

And I'm afraid this mindset is exactly what abortion rights voices have been condemning.  You don't have the right to tell a woman what to do with her body, before sex or after.  This has been the pro-choice mantra for quite some time.  And the more that pro-life voices make exceptions for rape and incest, the more they reveal that their pro-life convictions are not governed by a desire to protect unborn children, but by a desire to judge sexually active parents.  The more that pro-life voices give their consent to the murder of unborn children conceived in rape, the more they reveal that the only thing distinguishing them from a president who doesn't want his daughters punished with a baby is that they're fine with that form of punishment, as long as the girl deserves it.

But we don't oppose abortion because women should have to lie in the beds they've fornicated in.  We don't oppose abortion out of judgment.  We oppose it out of mercy, out of the desire to defend the weakest among us, to protect those who have no strength or power or influence.  We oppose abortion because a human's life begins at conception, and because, from that very moment, he deserves the same rights that you and I have, both the right to live in safety as a citizen of this nation, and the right to hear the saving Word of God that gives peace to those who were at war with God from the moment egg and sperm first combined.

So please pray.  Pray that Democrats and Republicans, conservatives and liberals may see that we have no greater treasure than the lives of those who haven't even made a bump in their mother's bellies yet and that we have no greater duty than to defend their existence.  Pray that God may soon provide doctors a way of taking children out of the wombs of mothers who would otherwise have them aborted and into the wombs of mothers who will cherish and love them and weep tears of joy on the days they are born.  And pray that those who have picketed outside of abortion clinics and those who have utilized the services inside may both turn from their sins and trust in the saving blood of Jesus Christ that never runs dry.

Burying a Church

An anonymous friend wrote this article and asked me to publish it here.

This brother is not alone in his struggles.  And while I believe it's meet, right, and salutary for a pastor to feel a sorrowful sting every time he looks down from the pulpit and sees that no nursing children or newlywed couples have taken the seats of the saints he's been burying, he ought not feel like a failure.

When we look at a congregation of senior citizens who cling too tightly to the past with one hand and perhaps not tightly enough to the Word with the other, we see something to disdain.  

But this is not what Christ sees.  Rather, Christ sees a flock of wrinkled sheep that He will never cease to feed and love and defend, a collection of saints that He is still preserving with His life, even when all five of our senses tell us that death has already consumed them.

So no matter many times you've received no response when you've commanded Lazarus to arise, and no matter how hoarse you've grown from calling out his name, keep shouting.  You do not speak this word in vain.  And Christ will continue to bring life and resurrection through your lips that preach and your hands that baptize and commune.

Burying a Church

by an anonymous Lutheran pastor

Once, my wife told me that she thought that my strength as a pastor was comforting the bereaved, preaching at funerals, burying the dead. 

I was angry with her for saying that.  But she said that she meant it as a compliment.  “That’s probably the hardest thing for a pastor to do,” was something like what she said.

Burying people is probably near the top of the list of things I have done consistently and successfully as a pastor. 

On a given year I usually confirm around one, two, or three adolescents.  I may confirm or receive by affirmation of faith about as many adults.  I baptize around 8 babies, most of which are the grandchildren of members who don’t live nearby or the children of members who don’t attend Divine Service more than a few times a year. 

But I bury between 20 and 25 people every year.  About two people a month.  My work among the living is like a civil war officer trying to keep his command from routing, trying to get them to advance, to keep advancing.  But ground is lost every day. 

My work among the dead and the mourners is a constant labor during which I am largely isolated from the congregation, preaching to family members who are alienated from the church or who have forsaken the Lutheran church for communions that still seem to win victories.

Burying the dead often seems to be my real work, that and caring for those for whom death is now a houseguest. Preaching and teaching to those who are still healthy feels like preaching to the deaf, or like saying, “Lazarus, come forth!”  and he doesn’t.  Or like a ghost preaching to a congregation of ghosts.  Trying to work with the congregation’s leaders to administrate feels often like the restless movements of the bedridden—not only on their part but mine.  So much not only of what the congregation wants, but also of what I want—perhaps it is vain.  We think we are living and we can make things happen.  We feel like it is our responsibility.

One of the reasons why it is possible to comfort the bereaved and to comfort the dying is because I do not feel as though I am responsible to stop it.  With a congregation it is different. 

When I first arrived at the congregation I was confident that I could get people fired up and working together.  That’s poor theology, but theology is easily diverted or diluted by what we want and what we need—what I would be more quick to call “idolatry” in the face of congregational criticism.

Six years in, I feel utterly powerless and mostly exhausted.  You try to rally the troops and lead some charges, not realizing that many of the troops have been on many charges and are too tired to do it anymore.  But a few go with you, maybe against their better judgment.  Probably as many more want you to fail.  And the mass don’t pay any attention.

After awhile, you can’t do it anymore.  The politics within the congregation continues.  The numbers decline in church and school.  There’s no time to go after the sheep who are never join the rest of the flock by the pulpit and the altar.  There are no volunteers to help give rides to church or check on why others aren’t attending.  They’re overwhelmed with the inroads the enemy makes into their areas of responsibility—their children, grandchildren, sick parents and spouses.

And yet—the death of a congregation can be averted—can’t it?  Should we always chalk it up to God’s hidden will?  Or does God sometimes allow the congregation to decline because He wants His congregation to seek Him?  He hides Himself, desiring to be sought?  He wants the congregation to examine herself, to fast and pray for the lost sheep, to listen attentively again to His Word?  “In their distress they shall earnestly seek me…” Where is that verse?

Even with dying people we counsel them to accept God’s will as coming from the hand of a gracious Father.  “He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?”  Yet we also do not stop praying for the recovery of the dying—if it is God’s will. 

Often with the elderly it isn’t easy to know what to pray for, particularly if they’ve been suffering a long time.  And yet, I’ve seen families who—with good intentions, out of love—keep telling a dying family member, “It’s okay, grandma…it’s okay to go see Jesus now.”  But they don’t realize that sometimes it is not okay; it’s not because grandma doesn’t want to go.  She’s wanted to go for days or weeks; she is tired of the pain. 

But God is not ready yet.  He says, “No”.   But we keep telling grandma it is alright to go now, as though grandma decides when she lives and dies.

Because death is inevitable, we don’t want our loved ones to have to keep fighting it forever.  But burying a church?  It’s different.  There are young people and old people in a church.  There are those who are tired and those in the midst of their years; and there are children and infants from whose lips God has ordained praise, to silence the foe and the avenger.

One member of the congregation, I’ve heard, seems to want the congregation to die. “Why don’t you just let it die in peace!”  he’s supposedly said.

This often angers me.  But we’re in different places.  I’m 35 and this is the first congregation I’ve served.  This person is 80 something.  This person has had enough and no longer has the energy to keep leading charges.  Even though I’m worn out, if I was convinced it would accomplish something and I could get anyone to come with, I could probably lead scores more charges.  Let’s paint this!  Let’s convert that!  Let’s show mercy here!  Let’s study this!

But if I get this tired at 35, I can only imagine how I’ll feel at 85.  I would not give an 85 year old a guilt trip for not wanting to endure radiation treatments or chemotherapy. 

But a congregation doesn’t exist only for 80 year olds, even if they are the majority.  What about the 35 year olds?  What about the 20 year old mothers in the projects up the streets, and the 7 year olds with no father who don’t know the gospel of Jesus Christ?  What about the children who are the age of my son?  They are the ones who are going to have to come of age in a country in which the wealth and power we enjoyed have become ruins.  They are going to see the collapse of the great tower of Babel built by our great grandfathers, where the church and the Greeks and the Romans were built together in a great city that housed  Bach’s music and Luther’s theology as well as Thomas Jefferson and Robespierre and Nietzsche and Freud.  All of that is going to be a ruin by the time my son is older.  It is already becoming a ruin.  But then the barbarians will be scavenging marble from the aqueducts to build fortifications and vandalizing the statues of Apollo.

It’s easy to preach the pure Gospel at a funeral and say, “Your mother doesn’t have to lead anymore charges.  She rests with Jesus.”

What about for a congregation that wants to die, that wants to be able to die and say, “It was inevitable.  It couldn’t be helped.  The neighborhood was bad.  The old people were bad.  The school was bad.  The pastor was bad.”?

How can a congregation want to die?  “Why will you die, O house of Israel?”  “Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”  Much of the congregation wants to die.  Or doesn’t want to avert it’s death.  

Because death is upon it.  Sennacherib is surrounding the city.  But no one humbles himself before the Lord.  The church does not pray and fast or weep in dust and ashes.  The congregation does not rouse itself and seek the word of God.  It wants the good days to come back, and if they won’t come back, then nothing is worth working for or saving.  Let our children live in the ruins like owls in the wilderness.

But I think there’s a problem with my preaching and theology, too.  I scold the congregation, as though the dead could raise themselves.  Or as though the lame could strengthen their own wobbly knees. 

There may still be time left, but the congregation is no more able to contribute something to its own healing than the mourners are able to comfort themselves.  Mourners try to do that a lot.  They invent false comforts.  “He’s in a better place,” is the one we hear most frequently.  The funeral homes print stupid poems up on cards: “When you stand at my grave, do not weep.  I am not there.  I do not sleep.”

The first task is to take those away without giving the impression that you’re sadistic and you hate them (if possible.)  But it can be done, if there is compassion.  Because no one really believes the stupid poems.

Probably this has been one of my gravest sins in the ministry—that I foolishly preached and acted as though the congregation had any resources to effect its own repentance.  Or as if I had them.

No, neither the minister nor the congregation has the resources to prevent its death. Repentance and renewal in faith and the continued existence of the congregation are in God’s power alone.  All of the three depend on His will alone. 

Perhaps I should pray, “Lord, grant the congregation repentance and spiritual renewal.  And grant me to preach Your Word rightly, so that I don’t act as if our salvation is in our own hands.  And if it pleases You, let the congregation continue to proclaim Your Word and Your mercy to the next generation.”

It would probably be a good thing if my pastoral work among the congregation took lessons from my work among the dead.

The Devil and ULC

This is the sanctuary of University Lutheran Chapel. This is the place where the Bridegroom cleansed and sanctified His bride.  This is the place where the Lamb of God took away the sin of the world.  This is the place where the Good Shepherd fed His sheep with salvation.

And those things will no longer happen in this place because the Board of Directors of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod's Minnesota South District took this place away from the pastor who was feeding with that salvation and the congregation who was feasting on that salvation in order to pay for a program that, no matter how well intentioned, is not the Church, not the forgiveness of sins, not salvation.

So the devil rejoices in this picture.  He rejoices because he now has another little chunk of this world where the preaching of the Gospel will not pierce his eardrums.  He rejoices because he was able to deceive those elected to lead a collection of believers that they were somehow serving Christ and His Christians by taking away the place where Christ made and sustained Christians.  The devil rejoices in this picture because he has never once triumphed over the Spirit, the Water, and the Blood, but his bedroom wall is covered with the busts of programs and movements and methodologies that he slaughtered without breaking a sweat.

The devil rejoices in this picture.  

But the devil is already defeated, already a gory, twitching mess lying on the ground, his skull shattered beneath the weight of Christ's cross. 

And because of this Christ and His cross, because of the Bridegroom's union with His bride, because of the Good Shepherd's love for His sheep, University Lutheran Chapel will go on.  She will continue to receive Christ's salvation, continue being brought back to life through His word, continue being washed in His waters, continue feasting on His body and blood.

No matter how long she wanders in the wilderness without a home, no matter where she eventually settles, and no matter how hard the devil rages against her, Christ will continue crushing the head of the serpent with His once dead but now living foot.

I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away. They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God. And they will do these things because they have not known the Father, nor me. But I have said these things to you, that when their hour comes you may remember that I told them to you.

So says our Lord in the Gospel of John, the sixteenth chapter.  

And so, to Pastor David Kind, and to all my brothers and sisters at University Lutheran Chapel, rejoice.  In the midst of your tears, rejoice that you have been counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name of Christ.  Rejoice that your faithfulness was great enough to capture the full attention of the devil.  And rejoice that the wicked foe will never defeat you because Jesus Christ your Lord will never stop defending you, never stop loving you, never stop feeding you with His forgiveness, life and salvation.




For more information on the ULC tragedy, click here.

On the Ceasing of Tongues

I try to avoid commenting on my Lutheran Satire videos on YouTube. There are two reasons for this:

1. YouTube comments have a character limit, which makes discussing theology rather difficult.

2. YouTube comments don't show up in order, so it's very difficult to keep track of a conversation.

By and large, this isn't a problem, since there isn't much gold in the comments section, either way.  Most of the supportive comments are not much more than cheer-leading, which, don't get me wrong, I greatly appreciate. And negative comments generally sound like the ramblings of wild haired anabaptists in straight jackets. So there's not much point in responding anyway.

But every once in a while, someone posts a comment that I believe deserves a bit of a thoughtful response.  And I think these words, from YouTube user Ph33rsPhun certainly do:

Just referring to the debates aspect of saying 1 Corinthians 13:8 has already occurred, because knowledge is also a part of what is going to pass away in 13:8. I suspect Paul was saying that when Christ comes again, prophesies, knowledge and tongues will pass away, but Love will not pass away. It seems quite a stretch to insert that tongues has passed away but knowledge has not. Note: I'm not defending the theology of speaking in tongues, just addressing the scriptural argument.

A stretch you say, good friend? A STRETCH?!?!?!?!?! Let me assure you, there's not a drop of Reed Richards' cosmically radiated DNA up in this Lutheran exegetical house. Which I shall prove to you. So let's break down some 1 Corinthians 13.

First off, I'm not asserting that tongues have passed away but knowledge has not.  I'm asserting that they both have.

Love never ends.  As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.

If you look at the full context of chapters 12-14, it's clear that the knowledge Paul refers to here is the same direct revelation, stuff-you-only-know-about-God-because-He-told-You-directly-kind-of-knowledge that he mentions in chapter 12, when he lists off the various charismatic gifts, saying:

For to one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, ⁹ to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, ¹⁰ to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues.

So when Paul states in 13:8 that prophecy, tongues and knowledge will cease, he's using these three terms to encompass all the charismatic gifts.  

And not only does Paul tell us that these charismatic gifts will one day be gone. He also tells us when they'll be gone, saying:

⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰ but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. 

This is perhaps a minor point, but I would argue, as Dr. Douglas Judisch has before me, that the Greek words here translated as perfect and partial would be better translated as complete and incomplete. So, as Paul tells the Corinthians, tongues and all the other charismatic gifts are taking place in this incomplete era, but they will cease to take place in the complete era.  So what is the complete thing?  When does this complete era begin?

Many, such as Ph33rsPhun, seem to be under the impression that this complete thing is the return of Christ on the last day and that the complete era is when all believers are taken into His kingdom.  It's understandable how one would draw that conclusion, but it's still wrong.  Here's why:

¹³ So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

So, when this complete thing arrives, prophecy, tongues and knowledge will be gone, but faith, hope and love will still be hanging around.

Will there be love in the heavenly kingdom?  You betcha.

But will there be faith and hope?  Heck no.  Because faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).

And when Jesus is seen, faith and hope give way to sight.  This is, after all, why those unbelievers who want to turn to Christ on the Last Day will find that it's too late.  Faith and hope in a Jesus who is standing right in front of you, in all His glorified glory, ain't no faith or hope at all.

So the charismatic gifts will cease before Christ's return, which is something that Zechariah also points out, stating in chapter 13 (how fitting!) of his book that, one day, you will be able to spot a false prophet simply by his claim to be a prophet, a claim he will still have time to repent of.  Which wouldn't be possible on the last day.

So, then, what is this complete thing?

It's the completion, the fulness of apostolic revelation.  In other words, it's the New Testament.

It's important to remember that, when Paul writes these words, not all of the New Testament has been written.  And even that which has been was not widely available (or available at all) to most Christians.  So, if a congregation wanted to know what to believe about the resurrection, but the explicit teachings of 1 Corinthians 15 hadn't been written yet, what were they to do?  Or if a bunch of divorce happy pagan converts needed to be rebuked for their sin, but their congregation didn't have access to Christ's words in Matthew, how did God solve that problem?  When those Christians looked in a mirror and couldn't see a clear picture of what they were to be and to believe, how did God address that incomplete reflection they were seeing?

Through the charismatic gifts.  

So God would give people the gift of tongues, where He put His Word directly into people's mouths.  And He would give others the ability to interpret those tongues so that the assembly could understand what God was saying and believe it.  Likewise, God gave the gift of prophecy, of direct revelation, so that those who received it could speak it to the Church and the Church could know better and more clearly who God was.  That's why Paul says, in chapter 14, that the one who prophesies speaks to people for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation.  And God also gave the gift of testing the Spirits so that the Church would not be deceived by those who would falsely prophesy.  And surrounding all of this, God gave the gifts of healing on command and miracles, so that doubters would see that the proclamation coming from those who possessed these others gifts should be heeded.

So God gave the charismatic gifts to fill in the blank spots until He permanently filled in those spots with the writings of the Apostles.  As Paul himself said about these charismatic gifts, when I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.  So, in other words, these charismatic gifts were for the Church in her infancy stage.  They were milk.  But now that the Church has grown up, through receiving the fulness of the Scriptures, we have moved on to meat.  Quite simply, we have the Bible.  We no longer need the charismatic gifts.  And that's why they have ceased.

And history backs up this interpretation.  Because, after the death of the apostles, there were no claims to the charismatic gifts within the orthodox Christian community.  After approximately 100 AD, there simply has been no charismatic presence in the Christian Church, Sacraments-denying early 20th century holiness weirdos notwithstanding.

So, in summary, the Bible said that the charismatic gifts would go away when the Scriptures were fully written.  And when that happened, the charismatic gifts did exactly that.  Their purpose disappeared and the gifts disappeared with it.  And those who claim to have these gifts today are either deceived or lying.

A Lutheran Manifesto

I am a soldier in the worship wars.  Though I've only been a pastor for a few years, I have already lobbed countless bombs at those who seek to pervert our confession of faith.  Though I am but a lowly grunt, I have fired innumerable rounds at those who attempt to inject our fonts and pulpits and altars with the poison of Calvin and Zwingli.

And as I look at my fellow soldiers, as I survey the men burrowed in the Confessional trenches with me, I must admit that the deadliest wounds and the deepest scars we bear are not the result of the enemy's attacks.  They are nothing more than self-inflicted carnage, the result of our collective frustration and exhaustion, the fruit of giving into our anger and pride and hatred and becoming exactly what the enemy has portrayed us to be in their vilest propaganda.  

And it's time for this to stop.  It's time for a strategy change.  It's time to fight the worship wars by putting down our guns and picking up our megaphones.  It's time to fight the worship wars by leaving the Pseudo-Lutherans with no one left to deceive.

In our nation, in 21st century America, there is no culture of Lutheranism.  The world around us does not know who we are and what we believe.  While your average American is highly ignorant of the basic teachings of the numerous religious groups in the world, his ignorance of Lutheranism is far greater than his ignorance of most other Christian-ish groups.  Here is a table to illustrate my point:

A phony Romanist can't trick the world into believing that the Catholic Church has women priests because the world knows better.  A false Evangelical can't convince people that his community cherishes the Word and Sacraments because everything else those people have ever seen tells them that the real marks of his church are Starbucks and soul patches.  But, with a slate as blank as ours, a Pseudo-Lutheran can get away with pretty much anything.

And he will get away with pretty much anything until we teach the world who we are, until we teach our children and friends and neighbors to know what a Lutheran looks like and sounds like.  And if we want to fill in that blank Lutheran slate, we won't do it by expending all our energy firing shots at the rebels.  We won't do it by out-politicking the opposition at the synodical convention.  We won't do it by mocking our enemies in secret rooms, in between puffs of cigars and sips of fine scotch.  And we won't do it by sniping at the other side from a nest woven together with confessional message boards and blog posts.

No.  If we want to stop the false teachers in our midst from digging their fingers into the toilets of Willow Creek and passing off their findings as compatible with the Book of Concord, then we must teach the people around us to recognize the lie of evangelical form and Lutheran substance.  And in order to teach them to recognize that lie, then, when it comes to those who sell it, we must out-confess them, out-proclaim them, out-evangelize them, out-outreach them.  We must simply out-work them, both inside and outside of our congregations.

So when they sing vague, meaningless, mantra-driven,spiritualistic blech, we sing the best of our hymns and we sing them right in the face of the word.  We pour those hymns out in concert halls, in youtube videos, at our dinner tables and anywhere else we can fit them until the world knows what Lutheran music sounds like and knows that Lutheran music doesn't sound like a horrible, husky voiced U2 sound alike.

When they teach purpose-driven poppycock, we teach Law and Gospel and we teach this to any set of ears we can find in this world.  We teach it, with the aid of the internet, to people starving for the Gospel halfway across the country and on the other side of the world.  We teach it in conversations with our friends.  We teach it to our neighbors when a couple of Mormons come knocking on their door and we insert ourselves into the discussion in order to show them that our Gospel is so awesome it just swallowed Joseph Smith's gospel in one bite and crapped it out the other end.

When they teach their youth to talk like hipster-evangelicals, we teach our youth to talk like Lutherans.  We brand the Catechism into their memories.  We give them the vocabulary of the Scriptures.  And we train them to know their theology so well that the pastors of the other churches in town secretly hope their youth group members don't bring any of their Lutheran friends to the next Bible study, lest another 14 year old respond to their denial of baptismal regeneration by tearing them apart in a fury of theological evisceration so bloody it would make Quentin Tarantino nauseous.

And when they embark on gimmicky outreach programs riddled with a theology of glory and a denial of original sin, we respond by reaching out further with our hands filled with big, fat chunks of Lutheran bread.  So when they build sleek websites that boast of their faithfulness to God, we build equally sleek websites that make it very clear to people in half a second that Lutherans aren't interested in marketing themselves but in confessing Christ and His forgiveness.  When they build coffee shops for seekers where one can learn how to have a proactive faith walk, we build shelters for the needy where sinners can say to themselves, man, when those Lutherans feed me and clothe me and care for me and pray with me and talk with me, they don't tell me about how my suffering will be gone if I just believe more or trust more or obey more.  Instead, they tell me about Jesus and His love for me in the midst of my suffering, even as they're trying to take my suffering away.

So this is what we do.  When the Pseudo-Lutherans speak, we speak louder to our friends and neighbors.  When they yell, we shout to the public.  When they shout, we scream to the world.  And we don't stop screaming until God gives us what we need-a culture of Lutheranism, a world where people who have never even set foot in one of our churches know what a Lutheran looks like and sounds like, and a world where people understand that the only reason a Lutheran doesn't preach or teach or worship or act like a Lutheran is because he's not a Lutheran.  

So we can either spend the rest of our lives firing on an enemy we'll never hit, or we can let him shoot himself in the foot by letting the world call into question his doctrine and practice.  We can either keep piercing ourselves with our own ricocheted bullets, or we can teach the world to walk away from that enemy when he tries to sell them a Lutheranism that isn't real.

I've already torn my flesh apart enough doing the former.  It's time to try the latter.

What Oscar could learn from Grammy

Disclaimer: Every post I've ever written to this point deals with theology.  This post does not deal with theology at all.  It deals with movies, which I love almost as much as I love theology.  The only reason I'm posting it here is because I couldn't think of anywhere else to post it, except as a note on facebook.  But that would have been lame.

Unless your name is Colin Firth or Natalie Portman, the 83rd Academy Awards left a really bad taste in your mouth.  Producers seeking to reach a younger demographic selected fresh-faced actors James Franco and Anne Hathaway to host the program, and the result was generally viewed as disastrous-a tedious, rambling mess of a program that dropped 10% in ratings from the year before and was labeled as the worst ceremony ever by 57% of responders to a Fox News poll.

Producers of the 84th Academy Awards, which will take place on February 26 at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood, are obviously hoping not just for a ratings recovery from last years debacle, but for a genuine viewership boost as well.  And in order to accomplish this, they've turned to Oscars legend Billy Crystal, who will be returning to host the show for the ninth time.

But as great as Crystal will surely be, the most his presence at the Oscars will accomplish is dramatically improving the twenty or so minutes throughout the four hour show where the host is featured.  To use a cinematic analogy, using Billy Crystal to improve the Oscars is like sprinkling a handful of clips from the original Star Wars into The Phantom Menace.  Just like with Episode I, the real problems with last year's (and virtually every other year's) Academy Awards are much deeper.  And if the producers wish to solve those problems, they'd be best served not by looking to Billy Crystal for salvation, but by looking to the Grammy Awards for inspiration.

I recognize that it's a bit of a strange thing to say.  The Oscars are a highly polished production, with far more pretty and far less weird than the Grammys, Bjork's swan dress notwithstanding.  And there are plenty of things that the Grammys do horribly, horribly wrong.  Like not locking Nicki Minaj in her dressing room after yesterday's dress rehearsal.  

But as goofy as the Grammys can be, there are a few things they get absolutely, positively right.  And if the Oscars would follow suit, their ceremony would improve dramatically, both in terms of ratings and in terms of sheer audience enjoyment.  Here are two of those things.

Thing 1: Don't give out so many awards in the televised ceremony.

Question: What do Mikhail Gorbachev, Hillary Clinton and Tia Carrere have in common?

Answer: They're all Grammy winners, for Best Spoken Word Album for Children, Best Spoken Word Album and Best Hawaiian Music Album respectively.

Would you like to know why you didn't know that?  Because they don't give out those awards during the televised ceremony.  And would you like to know why they don't give out those awards during the televised ceremony?  Because nobody cares who wins these awards.

And nobody cares who wins Best Sound Editing or Best Original Non-Acoustic Score for a Documentary-Short Subject either.  So do what the Grammys do.  Give out those trophies at another ceremony, and reserve the big awards (acting, writing, music, directing, maybe cinematography, and certainly best picture) for the televised one.  Do this and you'll cut out about two hours of intolerable filler.  Those two hours can be replaced with some kind of content that normal human beings actually find entertaining (see below) or they can just be subtracted from the show altogether and we can all get to bed at a reasonable hour.

Thing 2: Have the nominees show us why they were nominated for something in the first place.

Whenever a community convenes to give itself awards, that community brings with it a noxious cloud of self-important pomposity.  And if one is not a part of this community or does not desire to be a part of it, the only chance this community has to make that cloud dissipate is to convince people that these awards are being given by true artists in appreciation of true art.  And the best way to do that is to let people see the people giving and receiving these awards put their art on display.

The Grammys get this right.  Because a Grammy is an award for musicians.  And when you watch the Grammys, musicians actually perform their music.  For example, last night, Paul McCartney performed with a Bruce Springsteen, amongst others.  And as these two Grammy winners joyfully made music together, that made the audience think, "wow, this guys really love music, and so maybe these awards are about the purity of art, and not just self-congratulation."  That performance also made people think, "wow.  I bet Bruce Springsteen's amp hasn't actually been turned on for the last 30 years."  Likewise, Adele performed her award winning song Rolling in the Deep last night.  And that performance made people think, "wow, what a great singer and what a great song.  I can totally see how people want to give her awards for that."

But the Oscars don't do this.  When you watch the Oscars, which are awards for film makers, you never see people make film.  You never see writers write or directors direct or actors act (except when they act happy after losing).  Even when the acting nominees are listed before giving out those awards, producers often won't show clips of the performances that are supposed to be so worthy of an award.  And the only time we see fellow nominees interacting with each other is when they praise the work of the other people they totally just beat for an award, which comes across as a rather passive-aggressive form of rubbing it in, even if it's not intended that way. So the result is that the Oscars basically tell people, "what we're doing is super duper really important and worthwhile and you should totally watch us praise each other for doing that stuff, but you should just take our word for it that it's worthy of praise, since we're not actually going to show you why."

So here's the Grammy-inspired solution to this problem: Have the film makers make film.  

Have each of the screenwriting nominees write a segment of the show, even if it's only a minute or two long.  Have each of the directing nominees direct a short in the show-whether it's the segment for the Honorary Oscar winner of the night or that awful In Memoriam segment where we clap louder for some dead people than we do for others because we're super sad that they're dead and we're only a little sad that those other people are dead.

And have the actors act.  In particular, have them act in pre-taped segments poking fun of their own movies.  Not only does this help dissipate the noxious cloud of pomposity by showing that these folks don't take themselves too seriously, it will also make the show much, much more entertaining  Think about it...you weren't that bummed when Eddie Murphy dropped out as host this year because you weren't sure that his monologue would be all that great.  But if his departure meant that you would no longer get to watch a skit involving Eddie Murphy and Minnie's chocolate pie, you would be covering yourself in sackcloth and ashes for the next six months.  As well you should.

So there you have it.  If you want to make the Oscars better, if you want to improve the entire ceremony, beyond the few minutes that the host is cracking wise on stage, that's how you do it.  If you want to ensure that the show will still be great even if the monologue bombs, it's not hard to accomplish.  Cut the filler.  And fill its place with the art you're praising.  

That and don't praise the moral superiority of the Academy three years after the Academy gave a standing ovation to a guy who couldn't collect his Best Director award in person because he drugged and raped a 13 year old girl.  Because that makes it really hard to take you seriously.

How Sweet It Is to Be Mocked by You

Pat Robertson is right.

My fingers still hurt from typing that, but it's true.  At least in this very specific instance.

Last weekend, Saturday Night Live aired a sketch where Jesus comes to visit Tim Tebow and the Denver Broncos, the highlights of which were Jesus asking the Broncos QB to tone down his public displays of faith a notch and telling the rest of the Broncos that, if he's going to keep helping them win, they need to stop playing terrible football for the first three quarters of the game. 

So the sketch was pretty sacrilegious concerning Christ and pretty rough on His sheep Tim Tebow.  And that made televangelist (and cuckoo-bananas false prophet)  Pat Robertson mad.  While discussing this sketch on whatever "Christian" channel he's on, Robertson had this to say:

If this had been a Muslim country and they had done that, and had Muhammad doing that stuff, you would have found bombs being thrown off!

Now, aside from "bombs being thrown off" not making any prepositional sense, Pat Robertson is right.  Islam does not take kindly to mockery, especially concerning its chief prophet Mohammed.  And had SNL done a skit mocking the Koran, the prophet and/or Muslims the way they mocked Christianity, I'm sure that somewhere in the world, you would have found some bombs being thrown off in some form or another.  So it's not as though SNL's lack of Islam-mocking sketches is born from a genuine appreciation of the religion.  I sincerely doubt that the head writers at 30 Rock haven't asked Jason Sudeikis to dress up as Allah's prophet because they genuinely respect the beliefs of 1.6 billion Muslims throughout the world.  Rather, any respect they give to Islam is born out of fear of violent retaliation, the same fear that caused Comedy Central to wimp out of showing a depiction of Mohammed in a South Park episode a number of years ago.

And while respect born from fear may be an acceptable thing if you're Tiberius Caesar, it's not worth squat if you're a pope or a prophet or a Presbyterian.  So, as Christians, the fact that we're not given the same respect as Muslims shouldn't make us angry.  Instead, that should make us happy, very happy.  Because that means that people view the Church precisely the way Christ said they'd view her-as something lowly and meek, something that can be mocked with impunity. It means that people expect us to do exactly what Jesus told us to do when they strike us-to turn the other cheek.  

And as someone who very frequently fails to act in a Christ-like manner, it's pretty comforting to see that, somehow, the world still expects me to be exactly who Christ says I am.   It's a great reminder that neither my sins nor SNL sketches can stop Jesus from being Lord of His Church.