Visiting Other Churches --No.6 

THE LUTHERANS: "CAPTIVES OF THE WORD" 

Having recently visited the two Lutheran churches in my hometown of Denton, Texas, it was easy for me to attend the Lutheran Place Memorial Church in Washington, D. C. when I was there during the summer. I was due to fly out of Washington shortly after noon on that Sunday for Johnson City, Tn. where I was to serve on the faculty of the School of Ministry held on the campus of Milligan College, so I had to attend an early service. I had hoped to attend the National City Christian Church, which was but three blocks from my hotel, and I did visit the facility and some of the staff people through the week, but their Sunday service was too late for me. Across the street from the Christian Church was the Lutheran with an 8:30 service, sol elected to be there come Sunday, with my l3-year old grandson in tow.

It turned out to be my greatest blessing while in our nation's capital. The atmosphere of the church was such that I felt that I was worshipping within the circle of the dead as well as the living. A statue of Martin Luther graced the front yard of the church, an imposing figure that appeared to be preaching justification by faith to the throngs that hurried through busy Thomas Circle. Elegant stained-glass windows bore the likeness of John Huss, John Wycliffe, and John Knox on one hand and that of Zwingli, Melancthon, and Gustavus Adolphus on the other. The last named was a saintly Dutch king rather than a prelate, a hero of the Reformation who was largely responsible for the emigration of many Lutherans to America. A Lutheran college in this country bears his name. Such surroundings remind one that history matters, that what such men have said and done matters, and that they are a part of that "great cloud of witnesses" that encompass us when we gather to worship God.

This church was founded in 1873 as a symbol of peace and freedom following the Civil War. Situated as it is amidst the poverty of the inner-city as well as embassies, hotels, and federal buildings, its ministry centers in what it calls "urban hospitality." They operate a youth hospice, child care center, emergency night care shelter, and a "village" of several houses that serve to "restore Shalom in the midst of urban struggle." The area is largely black. The village includes halfway houses, a food and clothing center, and a medical clinic. They urge their people to be "inn-keepers" who make room for others.

After the Order of Confession and Forgiveness and a reading from "the Holy Gospel," we sang "The Church of Christ in Every Age," which I found inspiring, especially the first stanza: 

The Church of Christ in every age
   Beset by change, but Spirit led,
Must claim and test its heritage,
   And keep on rising from the dead. 

It always thrills me when "sectarians" use "Church of Christ" in a nonsectarian way. In such instances they feel no obligation to use the meticulous lower case c as in "church of Christ," which is reflective of an odd mentality. One wonders who is "sectarian" after all.

The pastor gave as fine a discourse on Christian unity as I have heard, basing his remarks on Eph. 4 and emphasizing that we must be eager for unity. He made much of "speaking the truth in love" in verse 15, noting that truth and love are the basis of unity. He drove home the point that he who rejects unity rejects the love of God. Unity is not simply peaceful coexistence, he said, but union in Christ. Unity is already a reality as a gift to the church, he insisted, that we must eagerly claim.

The Supper was served by the congregation going to the altar. One could either drink from a common chalice served by the pastor or partake from an individual cup on a nearby table. Instead of using matzo crackers or crumbs, as our people usually do, the minister broke a piece of bread from a loaf and handed it to each participant. I found their use of the words of institution very meaningful. When the minister stepped before me, he broke a piece from the loaf and handed it to me, saying, "This is the body of Christ."

It reminded me of the sad truth that in Churches of Christ/Christian Churches we often serve the Lord's Supper without the words of institution. We offer thanks and serve it, and in quick order, as if we are on a time schedule, and that's it. It might startle us if some wit responded when served in that fashion, What is this?, but we would deserve it. We should lift the one loaf (not crackers or crumbs, read I Cor. 10:17) before the congregation and say as Jesus did, This is the body of Christ! Likewise the cup, which could be a single chalice of wine even if the congregation is served in individual cups, should be lifted up with the words of institution, This is the blood of Christ! Then the eucharist or thanksgiving can be said. I saw Forrest Haggard do this at the Overland Park Christian Church in Kansas. He held aloft a beautiful silver chalice and proclaimed the words of institution. Trays of individual cups were then passed to a huge congregation.

When we take the Lord's Supper as seriously as the Lutherans do, we will find innovative ways to restore such meaning as our Lord intended. Martin Luther believed that in sincerely partaking of the Lord's Supper, with its words of institution, the Christian continually receives the remission of sins. The Lutherans also say this about baptism: "It worketh forgiveness of sins, delivers from death and the devil, and confers everlasting salvation on all who believe, as the Word and promise of God declare." While this sounds like baptism for believers only, they nonetheless baptize infants.

For those of us who have been conditioned to think negatively about infant baptism, it is difficult for us to realize how much it can mean to those who have practiced it for centuries. They see the child as a part of the believing community and therefore a subject for baptism. Luther's baptism as an infant was always precious to him. When the pope excoriated him for his reformatory views, calling him "that bull in the china closet," Luther responded, "The pope can't talk about me like that, for I've been baptized just as he has."

Victor E. Beck in Why I Am A Lutheran says he was born a Lutheran, and he recalls his baptism this way: 

     I am happy to have the certificate of my baptism still faded and. crumpled though it is. In infant baptism the godparents play an important part and I was very fortunate in this respect. I can still see my godmother. with two or three of her children, coming across the fields to celebrate my birthday. and this continued as a regular practice throughout my childhood. Always there was a present. Thus an interest in the godchild was maintained. 

Beck goes on to tell that since his godparents lived to a ripe old age he was able to visit with them through the years. Since they were his "sponsors" in the faith they often prayed and broke bread together. He also relates that he studied nine months, two-hour sessions each Saturday, for confirmation at age 12. The pastor taught them the Bible and Luther's Shorter Catechism, and they had 218 questions to answer, along with memorizing Bible verses to support the answers. He says this grounded him in the faith, and he favors memorization of Scripture even if it is today considered old-fashioned. He also tells of the poverty of the pioneer settlers in Minnesota where he grew up, most of them having nothing but their two bare hands. His father was poor like that, a farmer, but he conducted devotionals for his family three times a day.

The Lutherans were among the earliest settlers in this country, arriving as early as 1619. Even before William Penn reached out to the Indians, the Lutherans had made peace with them. Their schools and chapels were among the first built in this country. While there are several different Lutheran bodies, their differences are more cultural than doctrinal. The immigrants from Sweden became the Augustana Lutheran Church, while those from Germany became the United Lutheran Church in America. Norwegians became the Evangelical Lutheran Church, and the Saxon Germans, who settled in the St Louis area, became the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. The Danes formed two bodies, the United Evangelical Lutheran Church and the Danish Evangelical Lutheran Church. The Finnish Lutherans started three groups. On and on it goes.

These "divisions" are misleading, for they do not reflect a warring and factious spirit but cultural diversity. Each group of immigrants wanted a church of its own language and mores. The young American republic lent itself to such diversity. In fact the Lutherans are probably the most united of all Protestant bodies, and in recent decades they have merged a number of their bodies, their old native tongue no longer being an issue.

But whatever the body they always call themselves Lutherans, the only major denomination that is named after its founder. This is an anomaly since they are so loyal to Luther and Luther himself insisted that they not wear his name. One of their seminary professors once told me, "I wish our church was not named after a man.

If a people should choose to take a man's name for their church, they could hardly do better than the name of Martin Luther. His story is one of the most dramatic in the annals of history. Carlyle described Luther's appearance before the Diet of Worms on 18 April, 1521 as the greatest moment in modern history.

      Once he had challenged the authority of Rome, Luther was summoned 10 Worms by the emperor to stand trial. When his friends, fearing for his life, urged him not to go, Luther responded, "I shall go even if the devils are as thick as the tiles on the roofs." With the books and pamphlets he had written stacked on a table before him, he was given 24 hours to renounce what was written in them. When he was asked if he was ready to recant, Luther replied in both Latin and German with that ringing statement that has echoed down through the centuries as one of the church's greatest hours: 

Since your Lordships desire a simple reply. I will answer without horns and without teeth. Unless I am convicted by Scripture and plain reason - I do not accept the authority of popes or councils, for they have contradicted each other - my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant, for to go against my conscience is neither right nor safe. God help me. Here I stand! 

And so the Protestant Reformation was born, and the Lutheran Church nobly reflects that tradition. Because of its emphasis on the priesthood of all believers the Lutherans are probably the most democratic of all churches. The name "Protestant" was first given to them, and they are today the largest Protestant church the world over. It is the state church of Sweden. And it is truly ecumenical in that it believes that wherever Christ is present in the preaching of the Word and in the sacraments there is the church.

The two Denton congregations are the St. Paul Lutheran Church (Missouri Synod), which has an active University Center and whose pastor has the longest tenure of any Denton preacher (33 years), and Christ the Servant Lutheran Church (Evangelical), who once sent their teenagers to worship with our congregation since their pastor wanted them to see how a Church of Christ worships. I spoke on that occasion and pointed to the debt that we all owe to Martin Luther.

My visit to St. Paul's included an exciting Bible study where all joined in the discussion. During my visit to Christ the Servant, at an early service on the 15th Sunday after Pentecost, we joined in a refrain that began with "Abba, Abba, Father, You are the potter. we are the clay, the work of your hands." We sang "One in the Spirit" and the visiting pastor referred to a statement in the Lutheran Book of Worship: "God has made us His people through our baptism into Christ."

I have now visited more than 60 churches in and out of Denton, and there is one fact that keeps hammering in my mind, a fact that we have ignored to our own hurt: we all have far more in common than we have differences. — the Editor