Drafted 4: Applied!

All right, Worship Wars. You've squeezed enough theory out of me. It's time for some applied snarkiness. Here are the remarks that came to my mind as I reviewed several examples of contemporary/blended worship, taken from the bulletins of Missouri Synod churches in and around St. Louis.

You'll notice that I make no complaints about the music. Why? Partly because I haven't heard it - all I have is the text, and in the few cases a melody line, to work with. More importantly, I think the text is where the real problem lies. Though I won't disguise the fact that the style of music I expect to find in these songs is completely foreign to my aesthetic principles, personality, and understanding of historic Lutheran spirituality, MY CONCERN IS WHAT THE TEXT SAYS (or fails to say).

CHURCH X
...Opened their service for the Fourth Sunday in Advent with an "African processional" that goes like this: "Praise, praise, praise God./Praise God's holy name, Alleluia." That, plus two more repeats of the second line, makes Stanza 1. Stanzas 2-5 follow the same pattern. Their complete text, barring repeats and Alleluias, is: "We have seen your glory/Streaming from the clouds. We have felt your power/Rising from the earth. God, who spins the planets,/lead us in the dance. God, who fills the oceans,/Fill our hearts with love." After all that you repeat verse one. This is an absolutely typical praise song: light on content, experience-centered, and theologically questionable. Exactly when and how have we seen His glory streaming, felt His power rising?

Next comes the Confession and Absolution, which are custom-written for this service. The responsive confession owns up to some very specific sins, such as: "Our care has too often been limited to the 'holiday season' and to charitable donations. We have failed to be God's hands and feet to visit and relieve the plight of the hungry and forgotten around us..." Is this really a sin? And is everybody necessarily guilty of it? Should we ask people to confess a sin that isn't theirs? Shouldn't a corporate confession of sins be more general and all-inclusive? And then each petition of the confession of sins ends, not with a plea for forgiveness, but with a request for help to do better in the future. Hmmm.

The next musical number was a setting of Psalm 80, chanted by the choir with a refrain sung by the congregation. My congregation has done some psalms and biblical canticles this way. I see no problem with it. The liturgy continues with unfamiliar settings of the Alleluia and the Magnificat, which is evidently inserted because the Gospel for the day was the Annunciation (sung as a solo, BTW). Hmm. If it's OK for a soloist (in this case female) to sing the Gospel lesson in a contemporary service, I wonder if it would be equally OK for the pastor to chant the Gospel per Luther's instructions in his reform of the Mass. As for Church X's setting of Magnificat, the only thing that would prevent us from using it is the trouble involved in teaching the music to the congregation.

The sermon hymn was "I waited" by Richie Furay. The congregation only sang the refrain: "I waited for the Lord on high./I waited and He heard my cry," and repeat. A soloist sang both verses, each followed by two more repeats of the refrain: "He pulled me out of my despair/And showed me where to walk/From fear into security/From quicksand to a Rock...I will sing to let the people know/That I have been restored./They shall hear and understand/To return and trust the Lord." It's not perfect prosody, but I suppose it's all right. My only question is, what does this song teach? Even most psalm paraphrases go farther than this song in offering specific comfort and assurance.

After the sermon, the offertory was "We will worship you" by Scott Wesley Brown. Verse 1: "Lord, we come before Your throne humbled and amazed. Your greatness overshadows ev'ry idol of this age. For all the treasures of this world, Lord, cannot replace, the greatest joy of knowing you and walking in your grace." Refrain: "We will worship You. There is none beside You," repeat, repeat, "Lord." Verse two: "Lord, we come with thankful hearts into Your courts with praise, rejoicing in Your favor, delighting in Your ways. For all we've lost cannot compare, Lord, to what we've gained. For there is none like You, O God, name above all names!" Refrain. Question: What, specifically, does God give us in this song? Does it say anything beyond "We REALLY praise you, God"?

The prayers of the church include a sung refrain, first sung by the praise team, then by the congregation and repeated after each prayer. Our hymnal has a similar setting for chanting the prayers. It's not clear from the service folder whether the choir, or the cantor, or the pastor read/sung the petitions. Assuming they were sung (so as to flow together with the musical refrain), I wonder: What, essentially, is the difference between doing this and letting the pastor chant the prayers? If all that "high church" stuff is unacceptable, why is this OK? Is there something about the pastor having a vocal solo that magically transforms it into popery?

During the distribution, the praise team (which, by the way, is named Maranatha) sings the first refrain and the verses of a hymn called "Await the Lord with Hope" by Bob Hurd. It looks like another psalm setting with a refrain-like antiphon. Again, what is the essential difference between this and chanting the psalms responsively out of the hymnal, or singing one of those choir/congregation canticles?

The next distribution hymn is Bob McGee's "Emmanuel." The whole text of the song is: "Emmanuel, Emmanuel, His name is called Emmanuel; God with us, revealed in us; His name is called Emmanuel," and repeat. Though I'm not sure whether "revealed in us" is strictly orthodox, I'll let it go and just ask: Why is this song more worthwhile than a richer (and more enriching) hymn like "O come, O come, Emmanuel"?

Next came "I wonder as I wander." That's not exactly contemporary, is it? Why would this tradition be more acceptable than the Lutheran one? And how well does this song apply the Gospel to us, compared to a hymn like "Lo, how a rose ere blooming"? Again, the congregation joined in Richard Horn's hymn "A Shoot Shall Come Forth." It has some nice biblical imagery and figurative language in it, but it doesn't come right out and make a clear, literal claim. How well does such a hymn apply the meaning of biblical imagery to our hearts and souls, compared to (say) "Once He came in blessing"?

The closing hymn was "The Trees of the Field" by Stewart Dauermann: "You shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace. The mountains and the hills will break forth before you. There'll be shouts of joy and all the trees of the field will clap their hands," and various repeats thereof. That's it. Based on these words, what do you really know? Who is talking to whom? What does it all mean? How does it apply to us? Where is the teaching, comfort, exhortation, etc.? So much for Church X.

CHURCH Y
...Opened worship on the Second Sunday after the Epiphany with the pre-service anthem "Instruments of your peace." Central to this song is what WE will do. What is God going for us in this song, except helping us to do our stuff? Next comes the opening song, "Give Us Clean Hands" ("We bow our hearts, we bend our knees..."). I suppose it's a nice preparation for worship, illustrating a humble attitude toward God. But does it give us anything substantive? Assurance? Comfort? Teaching?

After the confession and absolution comes the song of praise, "My Life Is In You, Lord." With only a handful of lines of text, and repetitive text at that, it's hard to see what this song gives us other than "Yay for God!" Later, after the creed, comes Children's Time with the song "Come, Let Us Worship Him." I could say the same thing for this piece of empty hoopla as I said about "My Life Is In You" - Is that all you've got?! Immediately following this is another song, "All Heaven Declares," which AT LAST gives us one line of specific proclamation: "I will proclaim the glory of the risen Lord, who once was slain to reconcile man to God." This atom of Gospel message is only one-eigthth of the text which otherwise plays variations on the theme "We praise you, God!"

The offertory is titled "We are an Offering." It says: "We lift our voices, we lift our hands, we lift our lives up to You, we are an offering, Lord, use our voices Lord, use our hands, Lord, use our lives, they are Yours, we are an offering. All that we have, all that we are, all that we hope to be, we give to You, we give to You," and repeat. Compare this statement with "Create in me a clean heart, O God." The difference is only WHO is giving gifts to whom!

In place of the Sanctus is a song titled "Chorus of the 'Revelation Song' Riddle." It begins in a familiar way: "Holy, Holy, Holy Is the Lord God Almighty, Who was, and is, and is to come. With all creation I sing: Praise to the King of Kings! You are my everything, and I will adore You..." Now wait a minute. What's missing from this Sanctus? Oh, yeah - the Benedictus! "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord." What difference would that make to the message of this hymn?

The first distribution song is "As Bread That Is Broken" ("Many hearts are hungry tonight..."). The first verse says: "O Lord, your wounded children need the power of Your cross" - but the song never explains how they will get it. The chorus says: "As bread that is broken use our lives. As wine that is poured out a willing sacrifice. Empower us, Father, to share the love of Christ..." Huh?! What about the Sacrament? What about the forgiveness of sins? What about God making us new people? What about Christ's body and blood? Shouldn't that be in there somewhere?

The next song is "Who Can Satisfy." Part of the lyrics say: "Living Water rain down Your life on me, cleansing me, refreshing me with life abundantly." How does this happen? When? Where? The song never says. The song ends: "Blessed Redeemer who reigns upon the throne." Where is that? How do we get to Him there? The song never says. I guess you're supposed to draw your own conclusion from the fact that the Lord's Supper is being distributed during this song.

The third distribution hymn is "You Are My King." It actually has a good opening verse: "I'm forgiven because You were forsaken. I'm accepted; You were condemned. I'm alive and well, Your Spirit is within me because You died and rose again." But what happened to the rest of the song? "Amazing love, how can it be that You, my King, would die for me?" and "In all I do I honor you. You are my King, You are my King," and repetitions thereof. One good, solid verse and then holy smoochies!

The closing song was "Cry of My Heart." The entire text is: "It is the cry of my heart to follow You. It is the cry of my heart to be close to You. It is the cry of my heart to follow all the days of my life." Really? Why? How did that cry get in there? The song never says. And that's where Church Y leaves us.

CHURCH Z
...Began their service on the 24th Sunday after Pentecost with the opening song "Everyday." I quote in part: "What to say Lord? It's You who gave me life and I can't explain just how much You mean to me. Now that You have saved me, Lord, I give all that I am to You that everyday I can be a light that shines Your name..." The rest of it goes on in that vein. Verse 2 mentions "stand upon Your Word" and "know You more" and "guide me in every single step I take." The refrain says "Everyday it's You I'll live for," etc. There are lots of repeats. I can tell by looking at it that this song takes a LOT of time to say very little. If the opening hymn is like a spiritual breakfast to get you going, this is pretty thin gruel. What does God give us in this song? Does it teach anything? Does it provide any comfort?

Immediately following this is another opening song, "Famous One." It echoes lines from Psalms 8 and 19 - "Great is your name in all the earth, The heavens declare You're glorious...Desire of nations and ev'ry heart, You alone are God, You alone are God...The Morning Star is shining through and ev'ry eye is watching You. Revealed by nature and miracles You are beautiful, You are beautiful." OK, that's fine. But what does this song have that Psalms 8 and 19 don't have? More to the point, why does it leave out the best stuff in them?

The Song of Praise after the first lesson is "I See the Lord" by Chris Falson. It's basically a souped up Sanctus ("Holy, holy, holy..."). Between the Creed and the Children's Message is a heading that says "Songs from Word of Life." Can't speak to them, however, because the songs are not listed. This seems to have been a break from the liturgy for the praise team to do a set while the congregation sits back and listens. The praise team also sings a song called "You Are Holy" during the offering, but again the words are not printed. Then comes the Song of the Day, "Be lifted up": "As we bow down, be lifted up," and repeat, repeat, repeat. There isn't much going on in this song, except various parts of creation being called on to praise the Lord. This kind of thing is all right now and then, but I've seen so much of it in these services that I keep needing to ask: What does God give us in this song? Is it all from us to Him?

Oddly, after the sermon and prayers comes (in order) the Lord's Prayer, the Confession of Sins and Assurance of Forgiveness (which is, surprisingly, an actual absolution), and a Song of Faith titled "Agnus Dei (Lamb of God)" followed by the Words of Institution and Distribution. Now is not the place to nitpick this novel arrangement of the sacramental rite. Let me simply point out that "Agnus Dei" is actually NOT the Agnus Dei ("Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world..."), but the Dignus est Agnus ("Worthy is the Lamb"). If I hadn't gone through all this material, I might have thought this was a gaffe. But actually, such a substitution is completely typical of this worship form. Instead of the Agnus Dei's language of what Christ does for us (taking away sins, having mercy, giving peace), this service moves things in the other direction, from us to Him (praise & recognition that He is worthy to reign). All that's missing is the Gospel.

Finally, the closing song at Church Z was "Better is One Day." It's basically a paraphrase of Psalm 84 ("How lovely is Your dwelling place"). I wonder, though - if we adopt contemporary worship, how often will the New Testament come into the stuff we sing? Granted, Dignus est Agnus comes from the Book of Revelation - but it doesn't give us much, either. None of these songs give us much. Even this Psalm 84 paraphrase gives us much less than the original psalm. At least, in the last verse, God is shown giving us something: "Your Spirit's water to my soul," etc. But the rest is about what WE do for HIM. It's all response. But, as far as the hymns are concerned, there isn't much to respond to.

So what is worship about? The Lutheran answer is that, first and foremost, it is about God raining gifts down on us. Then we respond to what we have received. I suppose with the sermon and the Sacrament you can still get something from God worth responding to... though I can't personally vouch for the sermons preached at these three services. All you can really count on, then, is the Sacrament, provided it is offered every Sunday. And my congregation has so far balked at taking change that far. A non-communion Sunday with song lyrics like this could be a lose-lose situation if the pastor's preaching isn't up to snuff. It might not even be worth getting out of bed on those 2 or 3 Sundays per month.

Compared to this stuff, historic hymnody provides a much richer diet of comfort, assurance, Gospel proclamation, applied teaching and exhortation. It's top-quality fertilizer for cultivating spiritual growth. It makes better use of the worship hour. It provides, if I may be forgiven for saying it, more bang for your buck. And if the change we are considering will primarily affect the hymns, I think it's a no-brainer. Classic hymnody and historic liturgy are treasures I intend to cherish until my dying day. As they go, so go I.

Drafted 3: It's About...

What's my problem with the idea of my Lutheran church adopting "contemporary worship"?

It's about...

GOD'S WORD:
1. Do we trust its power?
2. Has it taken our thoughts captive?
3. Is that what we are committed to passing along?
4. Are we receiving its full counsel?
5. Is receiving God's gifts our primary goal in worship?
6. Where does the content of the historic liturgy come from? What purpose does it serve?
7. Does contemporary worship take more, the same amount, or less of its content from God's Word?

CHRIST'S CHURCH:
1. Does "passing doctrinal review" mean the same thing as "approved by the church"? What makes a creed a creed? Likewise a confession of sins, a prayer of the church, words of sacramental consecration -- all things that tend to be rewrritten from scratch for every contemporary service. Do these represent the hearts of all the faithful?
2. How can we be certain that our worship is valid, God-pleasing, and faithful to His Word? Which worship form offers more certainty on this?
3. By what form of worship will we be most easily recognized by those who share our confessional identity?
4. Does our worship form strengthen our fellowship with Christians (especially Lutherans) around the world, particularly those who use the historic liturgy?
5. Does it unite us with, or separate us from, the fellowship of the faithful of past generations? Does it benefit from their "collective wisdom" and centuries of tried & tested use?
6. Does our form of worship unite or divide our congregation? Does it promote a party spirit or feelings of superiority of one group over another?
7. Does our worship form promote elitism on the part of performers/leaders? hierarchical tendencies? secularization? a passive role for parishioners? Or does it promote pastoral care & teaching? Does it encourage every member to take an active role in the congregation's work and worship?

THE MESSAGE:
1. Is the message we want to convey man-centered (me-centered) or Christ-centered?
2. Is our liturgy's message based on feelings & experience? Or on the power of Word and Sacrament?
3. Does the message of our confession, creed, prayers, etc. apply to all?
4. Is it "cute" and "relevant"? Or is it Law and Gospel?
5. Does it reflect the whims & preoccupations of the author/presenter? Or does it proclaim the full counsel of God? On this and the above questions, do the answers change as we move from historic liturgy to contemporary worship?
6. There are so many "isms" to watch out for! Which worship form can best help us avoid slipping into one of them?
7. Is there pressure to keep the message "fresh" and "alive" and "sincere" in order to pack the pews? What if our spiritual see-saw tips toward fatigue, disillusionment?
8. Is it about popularity or faithfulness? Entertainment or discipleship? Mammon or God?
9. Does it apply equally to all generations & cultural backgrounds? Or does it specifically target one group?
10. Does it promote care of the afflicted? Or does it offer a recipe for prosperity, health, and happiness?
11. Does it promote the faith once delivered? Or is it influenced by decision-theology? experiential religion? quack psychology? Pentecostalism & the charismatic movement? rationalism? pietism?

FAITH FORMATION:
1. Which best promotes long-term learning: hearing & singing new stuff every week, or having a consistent structure that we can follow, sing, and reflect on?
2. Does formal structure or informal creativity better serve: (a) children; (b) the aged; (c) people with limited language or reading skills; (d) the mentally infirm or disabled; (e) the hearing- or vision-impaired? (f) adults new to the faith; (g) those returning after straying from the faith; (h) visitors from other countries / synods / congregations not familiar with our local customs; (i) the spiritually struggling in need of support, and the weak in faith?
3. What form of worship best serves as an aid to memory?
4. If "the first thing in is the last thing out," what worship form will bring you more comfort in your old age or on your deathbed? When & how must you learn it? Who else would you like to share the same blessing?
5. How much importance do you think visitors place on being able to follow along? Will structured, printed liturgy or informal, creative liturgy better serve them?

GOD:
1. Does our worship reflect the beauty of God and His gifts? Do we return the very best to Him?
2. What form of worship shows more reverence to God?
3. What is a disciple? What aspects of worship are more closely involved with making disciples and being disciples? What worship form comes out strongest in those areas?
4. Who is central in our worship? Whose gifts, toward whom, matter the most? Whose power is at work?
5. What is the ultimate goal of worship, and who carries out that goal? Who chooses whom? Who does the work of our salvation? How much of it is ours vs. His?
6. Where is Christ? Where is He normally vs. in the Divine Service? How do we find Him? How can we become certain that we have His favor, His forgiveness, and His gifts?

THE MINISTRY:
1. What is it that gets us out of bed on Sunday morning and brings us together? A social club? An entertainment spectacle? Or is it medicine to fight the "old man" in us, and nourishment to feed the "new"?
2. What happens to our assurance in God's Word if the minister is subject to pressure to change his message to please certain people?
3. What form of worship promotes faith formation of the family, vs. a sugarcoated "religious activity"?
4. Are we more interested in serving the faithful or attracting the unconverted? Who, then, sets the agenda for our church?
5. What if, in order to attract the people we want to come to our church, we must "tone down" key teachings of our Lutheran heritage? How long can afford we let that go on?
6. Do we accept the doctrines of the Lutheran confessions as the very teachings of Christ? How clearly do the new worship forms confess those same teachings? If there is any conflict between them, where must our loyalty lie?
7. Is our pastor a God-sent teacher, shepherd, overseer, comforter, and spiritual healer in Jesus' name? If he is each of these things, how should we behave toward him?
8. Should our pastor bring us objective certainty based on God's promises, or subjective, emotional experience? Should he give us what is shallow or deep? False or true? Exciting and relevant, or God-pleasing and faithful? Should he serve us with glitz and glitter, or sincerity and clarity? Should he tweak our heart-strings with shmaltz, or give us hope based on God's unconditional promises? In short, would you rather be deceived, and most likely robbed into the bargain? Or is it better to be served by God through your pastor?
9. Do you want a pastor who says "Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir" to every wish, whim, request, or demand by any member of the congregation? Or is he allowed to be true to his conscience in certain things? What if you disagree with him? Do his convictions deserve less respect than yours?
10. If your pastor counsels you on the basis of Scripture and the Lutheran Confessions, how many votes should it take to disregard his authority? Where is the line between disregarding our pastor's faithful advice and despising the voice of Christ? If we have reason to doubt our pastor's faithfulness, what is our duty? If not, what then is our duty?

It's NOT about...

STYLE
No, it's about doctrine. Contemporary worship is a product of the Church Growth Movement, which builds on a foundation other than what we have received in Christ.

TRADITIONAL VS. CONTEMPORARY
I'm all for questioning traditions, and changing them -- if they no longer serve the Gospel. However, this rhetoric of calling the Divine Service "traditional worship" is rank propaganda. It suggests that those who insist on it are simply stuck on tradition. Frankly, that's just arrogant presumption. The historic liturgy has tradition in its favor, but more importantly, it's about the Word of God, etc., etc. As for the "contemporary" side of the scales, it's amazing how dated some of that stuff can sound within only a handful of years. By the time it trickles down into Lutheranism, it tends to be downright retro. The "traditional" stuff, at least, has a certain timelessness going for it.

CATHOLIC/ORTHODOX VS. PROTESTANT
Case #1: We sang the litany out of LSB* one year during Lent, and a lady had a fit because the church was becoming Eastern Orthodox. TLH** had a musical setting of the exact same words, in the style of Anglican Chant. If we had used that, would we be Episcopalians? I'm sure we've spoken those words in our church. Still Lutheran?

Case #2: Pastor chanted the words of institution. Somebody threw a fit because now we're becoming Roman Catholic. Are we Catholic because we're following a practice introduced by Martin Luther in his reform of the Divine Service? Isn't it the words in our liturgy that make our worship Lutheran, or Catholic, or Orthodox? In some cases we can share the same words (and music!) and still be Lutheran.

The folks in Reformation time who flinched away from everything that "smacked of Catholicism" were called the Calvinists, Zwinglians, Anabaptists... not Lutherans. When we start singing the stuff they invented to replace the sound form of words inherited from the pre-Reformation faithful, then maybe we should be concerned about becoming Reformed or Anabaptists. But I would worry more about the words that the music is selling, than the music that decorates the words.

LIBERAL VS. CONSERVATIVE
Not all that is "conservative" is faithful to the Lutheran Confessions. Some members of the Lutheran Church would be regarded as "conservative" on issues such as the inspiration of the Bible, salvation through faith alone, creationism, moral values, etc., but they would not support many of the key Biblical teachings set forth in the Book of Concord, such as the divine, lifegiving power of baptism, Lord's Supper, absolution, and preaching. And while some of the "high church" crowd in our synod are also dubious in their commitment to the Lutheran confession - as their scandalous defections to other church bodies bear witness - those who love the Lutheran church's liturgical heritage are not confined to the extreme right or left. And among those who advocate changing our church's worship life are people from both ends of the spectrum - left-wingers who despise the Missouri Synod's doctrinal and sacramental traditions, as well as right-wingers who have imbibed the culture of Christian fundamentalism and set its teachings above Lutheranism.

OUTREACH VS. INREACH
No, the "worship question" isn't about this either. You've often heard it said that Contemporary Worship brings in more people from outside the church. This claim is based on a highly selective and biased interpretation of the actual data. The truth is, one of the founders of the "worship evangelism" movement has publicly admitted that the movement is a failure.† Those often-quoted growth claims focused on the successes of a few big churches that, at least for a while, benefited from the economic and population growth in their area, and from the charismatic appeal and competitive spirit of a few leaders. When the leadership changed or slowed down, when the demographic pendulum swung the other way, or when people became disillusioned with shallow, insincere, and often corrupt ministries, those same churches trended in the opposite direction -- but nobody pays attention to those statistics. The fact is, these fast-growing ministries succeed by drawing members away from other churches, and do not actually reach a significant number of unchurched. And because they do not provide responsible, pastoral care, the size of their membership roster tends to overshadow the "revolving door" effect of people passing through from a more liturgical church to no church at all.

When contemporary worship's growth statistics are cited, the inference is sometimes drawn, or sometimes left for us to draw, that the alternative ("traditional" worship) is more focused on care of members than on reaching the lost. But this is more propaganda. Everyone needs to be evangelized, all the time. Even rostered members of the church need to be called to repentance, and to have faith preached into them, all the time. If the church can't even reach its own members, how is it going to save anybody else?

CHANGE VS. STAGNATION
The choice between contemporary worship and the hymnal liturgy has also been described as a choice between change and stagnation. This is another red herring. The historic liturgy is actually so structured as to ensure an equlibrium, or balance, between "stuff that changes weekly" and "stuff that always stays the same." Every week of the church year has its own set of lessons, prayers, and responses, called the Propers. Combined with the parts of the liturgy that stay the same (the Ordinary), the cycle of Propers is like seeing a different jewel in the same setting every week. The changing bits allow us to see the unchanging bits in a new light. And each time the cycle of Propers goes around, they hit us in a different way - perhaps because the pastor has grown and learned during the year, and can draw different points out of them in his sermon; perhaps because of a different combination of hymns; or perhaps because of what we as individuals and a group have learned and experienced. The Propers furnish us with infinite variety while also instilling their lessons in our hearts through repetition. The historic liturgy provides soil and nutrients for our spiritual growth. If we change to a different worship form, can we be so certain that it will help us grow spiritually?

EDIT: On the other side of this issue, I hear tell of a certain LCMS church right here in St. Louis that, in the 1970s, jumped on the "contemporary worship" bandwagon. Today, this congregation is still small, struggling, and quite possibly on the verge of closing its doors. And their worship is still full of the distinctive sound of 1970s pop. As a friend of mine pointed out, even with "contemporary" worship, it's all about what people are used to. Look at what that church is doing, then tell me our choice is between stagnation and change!

SUCCESS VS. DEATH
It's not about this alternative either. I can name for you some very successful churches that follow the historic liturgy. I also know of some happy-clappy church plants that have withered. I know of people who changed their worship form in hope of staving off their congregation's decline - but it died anyway. Ultimately the "success" or life-cycle of the congregation is out of our hands. The Holy Spirit goes where He pleases; the Lord's Word does not return to Him without accomplishing what He wills. From God's perspective, a congregation is successful that abides in His Word. The only reason a congregation should die is that its members no longer want the Word-and-Sacrament food and medicine that it provides.

LEGALISM VS. CHRISTIAN FREEDOM
To say the choice between liturgical and "creative" worship is a matter of legalism vs. liberty is not just rude, it's backward. Creative Worship is the stepchild of an idea some Christians have held since the age of pietism - the idea that true worship must come from the heart, so it cannot be rehearsed or read from a book. This idea has led some churches to insist that their pastor preach without a manuscript, that he lead the congregation's prayers without written notes, and even that he dispense with liturgical texts like the Lord's Prayer and the Creed. This prejudice against prior preparation is nothing but legalism, and like every other kind of legalism, it has led to sad dilemmas - like a faithful pastor being driven out of the ministry because he had a bad memory and couldn't memorize his sermons.

"Creative Worship" bills itself as the bastion of Christian liberty, breaking down the legalism of the historic liturgy. But actually, "Creative Worship" comes with a lot of at least potentially legalistic strings attached. You've got to feel it. You've got to be sincere. You've got to be excited. You've got to push your praise up into heaven. You've got to give yourself to God. You've got to become worthy of His grace. Got to, got to, got to, until you can't take it anymore. And though creative worship often gets its foot in the door by appealing to Christian freedom - you can't say there's anything wrong with it, so you might as well let it happen - once it's got a toehold, it becomes the be-all and end-all. If you're really on fire spiritually, if you're really in love with Jesus, if you really care about saving the lost, you've got to keep doing this and, eventually, do nothing but this. It begins by begging a little corner of the church for itself, and ends by pushing everything else out the door.

I've already mentioned the word "elitism" above. In my previous posts on this thread, I've brought up the issue of Church Growth Movement and its strong ties to the contemporary worship movement. A third side of that triangle is the "Policy-Based Governance" movement. It's a new form of church administration that has swept through churches influenced by Church Growth and Contemporary Worship, and it has begun to push its way into the Missouri Synod. Policy-Based Governance (PBG) means the local congregation will have less of a voice in the district and national synod. PBG means that church members will have less of a voice in the running of their local congregation.

I'm not zealous or dogmatic about democracy or congregationalism as a form of church government - I have no deep philosophical objection to bishops and archbishops - but I respect that voters' assemblies and congregational autonomy reflect the Missouri Synod's historic structure. And I am concerned by I have seen happen when the triple-threat of church growth, contemporary worship, and policy-based governance take hold in a church. In effect, a small cadre of "visionaries" or "change agents" begins to walk all over the other church members, using threats of church discipline against anyone who stands in their way. I have seen lifelong members of a church pushed out by a new pastor and the group of followers he brought with him. I have heard and read champions of this movement boast that they did this, and advise other church leaders to do the same. It's evil. Even when you see it happening to a non-Lutheran church, it's revolting to see. Far more should we avoid it in our church.

SPIRITUAL VS. DOCTRINAIRE
The question of worship forms is often described as a choice between being "dogmatic," unbending, stuck in the past, or becoming more "spiritual." I submit that many people claim to be "spiritual" without meaning very much by it. And I imagine it must be very encouraging to be able to stick a label like "doctrinaire" or "dogmatic" on your opponents. Once that label is stuck to them, they're caught in it and can say or do nothing to get loose again. You can talk around them as if they're not there, because they're too sick, mentally and spiritually, to be taken seriously.

Well, I don't really care how sick or paralyzed you think I am. I wasn't born knowing what I know. The first thing I learned at the seminary was how little I knew. I am still learning new things, growing in my understanding, correcting my errors, reconsidering my assumptions every day. If I come across as rigid in my opinions, it may be because my beliefs have been tested by fire. I intend to fight for what I believe is true, as I would expect of anybody else. Maybe what the label "doctrinaire" reveals is that a person's faithfulness becomes a problem when you disagree with what they're faithful to.

I would rather not discuss my faithfulness. Instead, let's discuss the faith - that which I believe, Him in whom I trust. If we talk about what we believe and teach, instead of sticking labels on ourselves and others, such as "spiritual" and "doctrinaire," we may soon see the reason you like one worship form and I like the other. But I've already talked about that in my "Lex Orandi Lex Credendi" post.

It's NOT about...
...WHAT THE CHURCH DOWN THE STREET IS DOING. Someone is bound to tell the committee, "I visited a church that happens to have a contemporary service. I didn't see anything wrong with it. The folks there seemed to enjoy it, and so did I." Forgive me, but so what? Would it mean anything to you if I mentioned how much I enjoyed visiting another church that practiced the historic liturgy? What if I mentioned that they did things even more reverently than we do - and as far as I could tell, the folks in the pews liked it that way. Would that carry any water? I doubt it. In fact, I would all but guarantee that someone would say, "What about it, Robbie? Just because they do it that way, that doesn't mean we should." How right that someone would be. And the knife cuts both ways.

Later, when I try to argue that contemporary worship deprives the church of the full counsel of God, even if it doesn't actually teach false doctrine, someone else is bound to chime in: "What about the church down the street? They're a member of our synod, in good standing. Who are you to say that what they're doing is wrong?" Now that's as loaded as a question can get. In a way, the questioner has a point. If I could substantiate a charge of false doctrine against Church X or its minister, I ought to do so; if not, I ought to keep my mouth shut. On the other hand, what kind of ministry are you wishing upon your church? Do you want a pastor who is incapable of distinguishing truth from error? Do you want a shepherd who cannot warn you against wolves in sheep's clothing? In a synod where everyone increasingly does whatever is right in his own eyes, your pastor would hardly be able to make any distinctions or truth claims without tripping over an Eighth-Commandment-related gag rule. Finally, it comes down to the question whether your faithful pastor or the pastor at Church X is called to teach you. If you're giving more credence to Rev. X than your own pastor, maybe you're going to the wrong church.

It's NOT about...
...THE KIND OF MUSIC I LIKE TO LISTEN TO. I like Classical music. That doesn't stop me from thinking it isn't a bright idea to turn the "Ode to Joy" theme from Beethoven's 9th, "Jupiter" from Holst's Planets, and a musical tag from Schumann's Dichterliebe into hymn tunes. I'm not in favor of playing wedding marches from Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Dream or Wagner's Tannhäuser in church either. I love those pieces and the larger art works they came from. But I can sense the difference between "music I like to listen to" and "music that I would expect to hear in church." They're not identical categories.

Dr. Barbara Resch once surveyed a good number of young people and learned that, by and large, whether they liked Country & Western or Rock & Roll, they also knew the difference between music they liked to hear and music that was appropriate for worship. I'm not going to judge you for liking a different style of music than I do. But I'm not getting up on Sunday morning to attend an R&B concert. When you make your worship form all about the style of music people like to listen to, you're going to end up with a different service, or a different church, for every musical preference. Either way the effect will be the same - each worshiping group will be like a separate congeregation. The church will divide along ethnic, educational, socio-economic, and generational lines. And you'll wonder why your kids never go to church with you....

It's NOT about...
...MY LIST OF FAVORITE HYMNS. One guy on our committee seems to think the problem is a poor selection of hymns for the congregation to sing. As the one who helps the pastor pick those hymns, I may not be the best person to answer this concern objectively. But I think favorite-hymns-guy may have some objectivity problems himself. Does he think everybody shares the same list of favorites? Even if a survey were taken, compiling and ranking every member's top 10 favorite hymns, what does that imply? That it would be wrong for the pastor and cantor to choose anything not on that list? What about teaching and learning, nurturing and growing? What about building confidence (and competence) in our Lutheran heritage? What about the content of the hymns and their relevance to the lessons? Would those factors ever justify an attempt to stretch the congregation's musical horizons? Like I said, every tradition needs to be examined, questioned, tested. What if the hymns you like simply aren't the best our confession has to offer? What if, as some popular favorites actually do, some of the hymns on your list slice against the grain of our Lutheran heritage, its doctrine and spirituality?

Any road, the question of worship form has nothing to do with this guy's beef about not hearing his old favorite hymns often enough. Chances are good that he'll hear them - and anything else he recognizes - even less often if the church changes its liturgical diet.

It's NOT about...
...WHAT WILL ATTRACT PEOPLE FROM AN UNCHURCHED OR NON-LUTHERAN BACKGROUND. After all, some of our visitors have been from a Lutheran background. A good number of them have joined the congregation lately, though I can't tell you how much our worship form had to do with it. In the past, quite a few people joined our church because it stood pat with the old hymnal, while other churches were switching to something newer. More recently, we lost some members when we introduced the new LCMS hymnal. I'm also aware that one couple declined to join our church because we don't celebrate the Sacrament every Sunday. Yet, though we have made no headway in discussing this potential change in our church custom, we are seriously discussing whether or not we should make a far more drastic change, based on no evidence that it will make any difference to our congregation's rate of growth.

As one member of the committee wisely pointed out, you can't argue from analogy to churches in the County, whither population and money is flowing - and where churches have grown regardless of their form of worship. You can't simply assert that following the example of a specific County church will have the same effect here in the City, where conditions are quite different. We don't know that people will come to our church in the City if & because we add a contemporary service. We're floating on a white, fluffy assumption. We're hypothesizing an unspecified number of unknown, possibly nonexistent, unchurched people who would not be comfortable in our liturgical tradition, but who would join our church if we had a contemporary service. Even supposing those people are out there, we're putting them ahead of known, Lutheran people we already have an opportunity to reach. We're letting unbelief and irreligion set the agenda for our witness and worship. And we're making no promises that, after they've been with us a while, they'll be any closer to being "from a Lutheran background." That's more than we can promise even for our own kids, if we bring them up going to a seeker-friendly service.

It's NOT about...
...WHETHER THE MUSIC IS "UPBEAT." I'm really just including this one so I can vent about the tactless person who interrogated me, while I was warming up the organ one Sunday morning, about why I insisted on playing such dreary, funeral-parlory music (like the hymn "Lord, keep us steadfast in Your Word") as opposed to something more "upbeat." At the time I couldn't wring an example of what he meant by "upbeat" out of the man, but later he allowed, when we opened Bible class with the hymn "Preach you the Word and plant it home," that "There's an upbeat song!" I can't begin to tell you how confusing I find the feedback this church's members give me on the music I play. Half the time I have no idea what they're trying to tell me, apart from hurtful reflections on my musical skill. I think it's a little silly to be contemplating a change to an entirely different repertoire of church music, when they can't even speak coherently about the music we already know. And (if I may speak as a typical, touchy church organist) if they always treat their talent with the sensitivity of a tin of mackerel, they might not get along with the type of musicians who live for audience feedback.

It's NOT about...
...HOW IT MAKES YOU FEEL. A worship form cannot be validated - or invalidated - by anyone's feelings. Your feelings may not be the same as the next person's. They may be influenced by weather, digestion, brain chemicals, stuff going on in your private life, and so on. Some preachers and songleaders are experts in manipulating people's emotions. If your worship service doesn't deliver anything but an emotional experience, you may be in trouble. How can you draw any certainty of God's love, or your salvation, from ephemeral feelings? Can you base your assurance on the charismatic utterances of a huckster whose words, if written down and read back in a calm tone of voice, would sound transparently silly? Divine Service must deliver a certainty that can withstand the changeable vapors of emotion. And because your emotions are a prime target of the devil, they can be deceived. So it's at least possible that something that makes you feel great is actually deadly, spiritual poison. Isn't that possible? By the same token, God's Word can be at work in you even when you don't feel anything.

It's NOT about...
...A MAJORITY VOTE. It is, after all, about Christ, His Word, His Church, His ministry, and His desire to make you His child and disciple. So if this question finally comes to a vote, I hope the members of my church, or its worship planning committee, or its Board of Elders, cast their ballots based on more than "what I want to do." Luther said that it is tempting God for any group of Christians to make decisions together without prayer. But I worry that it might also be tempting God if we assume that, once we have opened our meeting with prayer, whatever we pass by a majority vote is God's will. We can only hope that if our decision is based, not on "what I want," but on what best gives glory to God and transmits God's gifts to us.

*Lutheran Service Book (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006)
**The Lutheran Hymnal (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1941)
† Sally Morgenthaler, writing in REV, May/June 2007, pp. 48 ff.

A Christ-Like Bridge

What you see here is a portion of the General Pulaski Skyway, an elevated road spanning some 3.5 miles in northeastern New Jersey. Opened in 1932, it's a classic example of a steel girder bridge.

I thank my friend Mark for pointing it out, apropos a post on one of my other blogs. You never know where inspiration is going to strike. The moment I saw this picture, I was struck by a potential parable about Christ. To be more precise, this bridge can serve as an "object lesson" on the Ascension of our Lord.

Before Jesus was taken up into the heavens, He promised His disciples: "Behold, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age" (Matthew 28:20). Then He was removed from their sight. In a similar context He had earlier said: "A little while, and you will no longer behold Me; and again a little while, and you will see Me" (John 16:16). What does it mean that Jesus has gone away into heaven? In what way is He no longer with us, and in what way is He always with us?

In a faint, limited way, this could be likened to the steel girders in the Pulaski Skyway bridge seen above. Put yourself in this picture. As you drive along the bridge, heading toward the left, the girders are suddenly (though gracefully) removed from view. As far as you can see from where you're sitting, the steel girders supporting the bridge are simply, suddenly, not there any more. But from another perspective (e.g. where the picture was taken), one can see that the girders are still there. They've simply gone under the bridge, where those on the deck above cannot see them.

Now suppose you're crossing the bridge from left to right. What you'll experience this time is like the vision of Christ in store for us when He returns, or when we enter His visible presence in heaven. It may seem that we're meeting Him for the first time, but really He's been with us all along, unseen yet just as strong to uphold us.

Loathesome Music

I may have mentioned before that, as a ravenously curious student of fine art music, I used to spend hours in my alma mater's music library pouring over scores and listening to recordings. One composer whose orchestral works I surveyed in detail was Alexander Scriabin, an early-20th-century Russian who suffered from grandiose delusions, and composed accordingly. I painstakingly scrutinized his symphonic output, and finally concluded that it could be summed up in one word: "loathesome."

I guess I've just never been much of a fan of gushing sentimentality. Even clothed in groundbreaking, modernistic harmonies, Scriabin's music achieves an overwhelming pitch of emotional intensity and sustains it until it becomes monotonous. His 20-minute Poem of Ecstasy is living proof that even an orgasm can become tedious if it lasts long enough.

Nothing in the art-music world had turned me off more profoundly than Scriabin's orchestral works... until a couple weeks ago. I was driving along, listening to classical radio, when Tchaikovsky's orchestral suite known as "Mozartiana" came on the air. Part of it was a lush, Romantic orchestration of Mozart's sacred choral piece Ave verum corpus, which I have sung in one choir and conducted in another. It's a lovely, tender, devotional piece full of expressive harmonies, that nevertheless conveys a sense of awesome stillness.

My favorite moment in the Ave verum comes near the end, when a seemingly routine cadence takes a surprise turn. It's a moment of haunting beauty that I looked forward to as I listened to Tchaikovsky's instrumental version. Imagine my shock when that moment came and went - and there was no surprise twist! The only surprise was that there was no surprise, only a conventional, uneventful ending.

Tchaikovsky had bowdlerized it. He had castrated it. He smoothed out the wrinkle of Mozart's genius. He covered up the beauty spot with a shmeer of beige music. He reined in Wolfgang's dangerous, risky impulsiveness and transmuted it into safe, stylish, tasteful blandness. Was I disappointed? No. I was outraged! I plan to comb through my dictionary of Russian obscenities (I'm not kidding about owning one) until I find the equivalent of "What a shmuck!"

Coming Soon (?)

I've been thinking about writing a television pilot. I can't decide which of the following ideas to go with. Leave a comment to let me know which one you would vote for...

ALIAS, SHMALIAS: A spy caper series about a standup comic who has a double life

COLONEL CLINIC: A daytime soap opera focusing on veterinary interns moonlighting at KFC

HOW I ATE YOUR MOTHER: A sit-com featuring Hannibal Lecter

IRRITABLE SOCCER MOMS: A spin-off from "Desperate Housewives"

LAW AND ORDER: KABUL... Well, actually, forget about this one.

THE PHILANDERER: A reality show in which female contestants try to break up a millionaire's marriage

MUPPETS IN RECOVERY: A reality show following the efforts of Cookie Monster, the Count, Gonzo, and Miss Piggy to break their addictions.

STAR DRECK: Adventures of a galactic waste reclamation ship in the 24th century

THE SWINGING NUN: A mystery series in which the sleuth is the lead singer in an all-nun Christian contemporary girl band

TIME SHARE: A paranormal/sci-fi thriller featuring a guy who lets other beings (aliens, ghosts, etc.) possess his body for a week at a time.

Dinner, Dinner, Movie, Movie

Hot tip: Happy hour at Applebees is from 2-6 p.m. every day. They have half-price appetizers and markdowns on their pints of beer. Though their beer selection could stand some improvement (haven't these folks heard of ale?), the appetizers are a really good deal. Generous portions, good quality stuff. I've enjoyed their sliders - miniature cheeseburgers served with a tangy sauce, soft rolls and a serving with a side of fries. Their boneless Buffalo wings are interesting, with breading on the crunchier side. Other options include fried shrimp covered in a zesty sauce and "wonton tacos" stuffed with pulled pork and cole slaw. I've enjoyed all of these and, at half price, they're an affordable way to unwind after work.

On Valentine's Day Eve I went back to Favazza's. Ever since the night I ordered cavatelli melanzane and got served cavatelli shrimp Mario instead, I've been jonesing for the baked pasta dish with fried slices of eggplant. Seeing it on a busy night made a big difference. The place was packed. Mind you, it's got a huge dining room, lots of servers, and a bar, but there were so many people standing in the foyer by the time I finished eating that I had a hard time getting out of the place. The reason isn't mysterious. The food is great and the service is very good.

For dessert I tried something called tartufo, which is like a fancy scoop of spumoni coated in a chocolate shell. It was tricky to eat, though, because it was so hard that I had trouble pushing a spoon into it. I kept picturing a ball of chocolate ice cream ricocheting off the wall. If you try tartufo, handle with care.

And this weekend I have indulged myself in two new movies. It just happened to be one of those weeks when great movies happen. First I saw Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief, based on the first "Camp Halfblood" novel by Rick Riordan. Click that link to see my review of the book. Directed by Chris Columbus, late of the first two Harry Potter movies, Bicentennial Man, Mrs. Doubtfire, Home Alone, etc., etc., etc., and based on a book I enjoyed, it showed every sign of being a fun movie. Even so, I was pleasantly surprised. The kid who plays Percy, the modern-day teenager who finds out that he's a demigod, is actually watchable.

There's always a risk, when you see movies starring kids, that the actors are going to suck. I mean look at Harry Potter. Dan Radcliffe wasn't exactly a young Olivier when Columbus found him, was he? Looked cute with round glasses and a lightning scar on his head, but really, you could have gotten almost as much out of a block of wood. Logan Lerman, on the other hand, really has the stuff. Teen heartthrob potential, absolutely. But he's also fun to watch because every twitch of his eyebrows, or quirk of the corner of his mouth, tells you that he's a real character - a clever, interesting personality with a lively sense of humor and a light touch of irony. Lerman never puts one foot wrong in his first starring performance.

I'm not so thrilled by the casting of Percy's satyr pal Grover, who is not nearly as nebbishy as I would have pictured him; I would have gone for somebody more along the Maynard G. Krebs / Shaggy from "Scooby-Doo" line. The rest of the cast is very satisfying, from Alexandra Daddano as Percy's romantic interest, Pierce Brosnan as the centaur Chiron, Sean Bean as Zeus, Kevin McKidd as Poseidon (Percy's dad), Uma Thurman as Medusa (ha!), and many other familiar faces I don't have time, space, or patience to add to this list. WTS for more info. For now, let's just say it's a fast-paced adventure full of weird imagery, mythological monsters, and sometimes gruesome action, served up with plenty of wit and charm.

Saturday night's movie, for me, was The Wolfman, an update of the 1941 Lon Chaney horror classic, this time starring Anthony Hopkins, Hugo Weaving, and Benicio del Toro. The words "thrills and chills" have orbited the cybersphere too many times to have much meaning, but if they did, I would say this movie was full of them. Director Joe Johnston (Jumanji, October Sky, Jurassic Park III, Hidalgo) knows how to use editing, special effects, production design, and all the elements of photography to create convincing fantasy, suspense, shock, and an atmosphere of looming tragedy. The best special effect in his arsenal turns out to tbe Benicio del Toro's face. The Oscar-winning actor has unusual looks and an emotive range that runs the gamut from "brooding" to "tortured." Throw in fangs and inappropriate facial hair, and he can really be quite scary - yet in such a way that you hope he can be saved somehow. Emily Blunt plays the beautiful woman who deals him what bittersweet type of salvation a werewolf can hope for.

Don't watch this movie on an empty stomach. Expect to be scared - and to be horrified in ways that go beyond fear. Scenes involving a lunatic asylum, and a depiction of a family so dysfunctional that it can only be British, may make your flesh crawl and bring the gorge to your throat. But while these may be the parts that stay with you after the movie is over, the mayhem and violence, the alarming hallucinations and gory imagery, will keep your pulse elevated throughout most of this film.

Drafted 2: Why?

If you're tuning in late, it'll help you to know that I titled this thread "Drafted" because I have been recently drafted into the battle lines of the worship wars. The church where I serve as organist and choir director has put together a "strategic planning" advisory committee focusing on worship issues. At our last meeting two weeks ago, the committee started to discuss the question of whether we should start offering a "blended" or "contemporary worship" service. A couple of the elders argued in favor. I, pretty much alone, argued against. The matter was deferred until later this week. So the purpose of this thread is to rehearse my line of argument so that I can make my case more effectively, and without losing my head.

The next question that I think we must thoroughly answer before we dare change our congregation's form of worship is: "Why must we make this change? What is wrong with the form of worship this congregation has practiced till now?" In fact, this was our pastor's first question at our committee's last meeting, though one of those in favor brushed it aside as an unworthy question. It is actually a most worthy question, if not the question. Before we dare even begin discussing the who's and what's and how's of bringing in contemporary worship, this is the question we must answer, honestly and fully: Why? What's WRONG with the orders of worship in the hymnal we use?

Why is this question the question Lutherans must ask before hopping on the Happy Clappy bandwagon? This goes to the roots of Lutheran identity. The Lutheran Reformation was never about tearing down organs, smashing stained-glass windows, defacing religious art, and overhauling the whole liturgy. Only what was contrary to the Gospel had to be corrected. Only the impurities that had been introduced by a corrupt church hierarchy were to be removed. In accord with Christ's saying, "For he who is not against us is for us" (Mark 9:40), the Lutheran Reformation was guided by a conservative principle: We retain any ceremony that can be retained without sin. To do otherwise risks offending weak consciences, risks depriving the church of useful tools for transmitting the faith.

This isn't just my interpretation of Reformation history. This conservative principle is enshrined in the very fabric of Lutheran identity. It is codified in Article X of the Formula of Concord, one of the confessional symbols that defines Lutheran Christianity. It can be summed up in one word: ADIAPHORA. Cool word, eh? It means "things that are neither commanded nor forbidden." Another way of saying it is "indifferent matters," but that expression may be misleading. As Article X makes clear, there is nothing "indifferent" about an adiaphoron that has become a mark of confession.

This makes a huge difference. When some people stress that the liturgy is adiaphora, they mean that since no particular form of worship is commanded by God, then we are free to exchange one worship form for another. They mean, in fact, that we can get as creative as we want, as long as our liturgical inventions pass doctrinal review. But the Formula does not devote its Tenth Article to adiaphora merely to say, "Let everyone do what is right in his own eyes." The whole point of Article X, in fact, is to teach that, even in "indifferent matters," when the powers that be force this ceremony on us, or when they forbid us to observe that one, or when those who adhere to another confession pressure us to conform to their way of worship, we must resist. It is our duty to the Gospel, to Christian freedom, and to those weaker in faith, to bear witness to the truth at such times by clinging to the "adiaphoron" in question. The Formula says, in its Epitome:

We believe, teach, and confess that in time of persecution, when a plain and steadfast confession is required of us, we should not yield to the enemies in regard to such adiaphora, as the apostle has written Gal. 5:1, "Stand fast, therefore, in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again in the yoke of bondage." Also 2 Cor. 6:14, "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers, etc. For what concord hath light with darkness?" Also Gal. 2:5 "To whom we gave place, no, not for an hour, that the truth of the Gospel might remain with you." For in such a case it is no longer a question concerning adiaphora, but concerning the truth of the Gospel, concerning preserving Christian liberty, and concerning sanctioning open idolatry, as also concerning the prevention of offense to the weak in the faith; in which we have nothing to concede, but should plainly confess and suffer on that account what God sends, and what He allows the enemies of His Word to inflict upon us.

To clarify this positive statement of our Adiaphora prinicple, the Epitome goes on to list a series of contrasting, negative statements:

Accordingly, we reject and condemn as wrong and contrary to God’s Word when it is taught: (1) That human ordinances and institutions in the church should be regarded as in themselves a divine worship or part of it. (2) When such ceremonies, ordinances, and institutions are violently forced upon the congregation of God as necessary, contrary to its Christian liberty which it has in external things. (3) Also, that in time of persecution and public confession [when a clear confession is required] we may yield to the enemies of the Gospel in such adiaphora and ceremonies, or may come to an agreement with them (which causes injury to the truth). (4) Also, when these external ceremonies and adiaphora are abrogated in such a manner as though it were not free to the congregation of God to employ one or more in Christian liberty, according to its circumstances, as may be most useful at any time to the Church for edification.

What kinds of ceremonies are we talking about? How was this principle applied historically? The controversy over adiaphora arose during the "Leipzig Interim," a period following Luther's death when Lutheran territories had been conquered by Roman Catholic forces. The Interim was an agreement supported by Philip Melanchthon and others, requiring Lutherans, under pain of persecution, to resume Roman Catholic practices - including some ceremonies, like fast days and feast days, that really were "adiaphora" but that Lutherans had been allowed to set aside in Christian freedom. Article X of the Formula answered the question whether there were such things as "adiaphora" (Yes) and whether the church should submit to these "cases of freedom" being forced upon them (No). In essence, these "cases of freedom" became "cases of confession" as soon as those of another confession put pressure on us to observe them. What in and of itself could be called a "matter of indifference" became, under threat of persecution, a form of legalism and idolatry.

The Lutherans faced similar kinds of pressure from the Calvinist/Reformed. As Bodo Nischan points out in the essay I previously cited, the rite of exorcism in connection with baptism became a point of confession between Lutherans and the Reformed in the 16th century. The Lutherans held to it tenaciously, not because they were obliged to by any divine command - it was, after all, an adiaphoron - but because it had become a mark of Lutheran confession. Lutherans contended that baptismal exorcism was a useful ceremony, both because it symbolized the full extent of original sin (even newborn infants are in need of God's forgiveness) and because it upheld the power of baptism to give regeneration, forgiveness, and justifying faith. Calvinists (who, by the way, did not deny infant baptism) considered baptism a mere symbol of the child's induction into the covenant of the church as a result of its parents' faith. To them, any suggestion that baptism was effective in and of itself reeked of the papacy (in which there was merit in the "working of the work"), and blasphemed against the sovereign, eternal decree of God (which, according to Calvinism, is the sole cause of anybody's salvation).

So, wherever Calvinist divines climbed high enough in a German principality's church-state hierarchy, wherever Calvinist princes inherited the rule of previously Lutheran territories, one of the first changes they always made was to abolish the exorcism. And when Lutherans had the upper hand again, it was the first thing they brought back. The battle went back and forth for the better part of the 16th century, not because Lutherans thought exorcism was essential to baptism, but because it was a vital mark of their confession against the encroaching Reformed doctrine of the sacraments and the Anabaptists' denial of original sin. They fought for it because it was an Adiaphora, and because it made a difference to their mission to present a clear confession of Gospel truth. It was worth going to prison for. It was worth being slandered, maligned, and in some cases banished from their parishes. There was even a case where a butcher brought a carving knife to his daughter's Baptism as an insurance policy, to make sure the local minister didn't omit the exorcism!

How does this Adiaphora principle apply to today's worship debate? For one thing, it implies, as a corollary, the aforementioned "conservative principle of the Reformation": Only those ceremonies which must be changed, either to correct error or to avoid sin, should be changed. Where is the burden of proof? It goes back to my pastor's question: "What's wrong with the liturgy we are currently using?" This question must be answered before we take the next step!

But also, more directly to the point of Formula Article X, adiaphora that some insist must be changed, or pressure us to change, because of their misguided beliefs and misplaced priorities, must be retained as a mark of confession. Otherwise we risk dealing recklessly with the hearts and souls of church members who are attached to the established worship forms. We risk stumbling into legalism as we place our perceived need to change our worship form ahead of God's Word, Christian liberty, and love for our neighbor. We risk falling into idolatry as we grope our way into unknown territory, by blindly trusting that this new worship form will solve our problems and revive our church - and by putting the prospect of gaining unknown members from other religious backgrounds ahead of the process of making disciples and teaching them all things in Christ.

And finally, - though the specifics must wait for another chapter - the question of whether we should adopt contemporary worship is not a matter of style. Those in favor of it repeatedly come back to that concept (that it's only a matter of style) like a dog goes back to its bone. But nothing could be further from the truth. It is a matter of doctrine. Contemporary worship is part of a bigger package called the Church Growth Movement, a package with its own doctrinal commitments that are at odds with our Lutheran confession. Those doctrines, typically a blend of contemporary American neo-Evangelicalism and the heterodox 1960s "Jesus Movement," are inextricably woven into contemporary worship, like an essential ingredient in a recipe. Once we drink from that bubbling cauldron, the Church Growth Movement's doctrinal recipe will become a part of us. Because that does raise a concern for the health and survival of our Lutheran confession, the Adiaphora question does apply. Not only must we ask, "What's so wrong with our liturgy that we must change it?" But we must also ask, "Dare we set aside the adiaphora of our Lutheran worship heritage? Dare we exchange it for this distinctly different heritage, which breathes a different spirit and makes a different confession? If Lutheranism teaches God's Word in its truth and purity, can we abandon that confession without sin?"