As many children innocently prepare their costumes and empty bags or pillowcases for an enjoyable evening of collecting candy, Protestants will be battling the forces of Satan on two fronts tonight: boycotting Halloween, and gathering together for a few rousing rounds of Rome-bashing.*

Now, I don't enjoy Halloween (specifically what American culture has made of it) and have no problem with those who wish to abstain from participating in it; there are many good reasons not to. However, I am sure there are many doing so tonight who have no idea what they are actually boycotting.

More importantly, I am very thankful the Reformation happened—I am glad that the doctrines of grace were recovered, I am glad that the abuse of power by Church leaders was curtailed, and I am glad that I did not have to pay for St. Peter’s to be built pay for my relatives to be sprung from purgatory. In the Reformation, there is indeed something to be thankful for. However, I think Rae Whitlock has it right—would we even celebrate Reformation Day if it didn't conveniently fall on the same night as Halloween?

For me, the question is why we need a special night to celebrate the Reformation. It seems to be the equivalent of using Valentine's Day to tell your wife that you love her. As your love for her should be manifest each day, shouldn't our rejoicing in God's grace be something we do each day? This grace should pour forth from the preaching of the Word and we should taste it in partaking of the Lord's Table each Sunday. Do we really need a specific day to commemorate this?

No. And that is why the celebration of Reformation Day is not a day to celebrate some theological truths. It is, in effect, a day to celebrate the disunity of the Church. That, to me, is certainly not worth celebrating.

For some reason, Protestants seem to forget that while Martin Luther ultimately made the move and broke from the Roman Catholic Church, he did not do so immediately. He spent years in agony deciding whether or not to leave the Church he knew as mother and to go against Christ's call for unity in the body of believers (John 17:20-26, 1 Corinthians 1:10). Some of the earlier Reformers who went before Luther also tried earnestly to reform the Church from within. Separating from the Church was never the intention of these men, yet their valiant efforts to remain united seem to go unheralded.

Am I advocating a return to Rome? No. Do I think the Church will ever be one this side of our Lord's return? Of course not. But when you have to start constructing graphs that look like this (and this is just the American Presbyterians!) something is terribly wrong. And it is nothing to celebrate.

* I would be remiss not to mention the few gathering together to burn non-KJV Bibles tonight.

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Filed under  //   Church   ecumenism   Martin Luther   Protestantism   Reformation   Roman Catholic Church  

Eric W. Gritsch, writing on the history of Lutheranism, devotes a chapter to Lutheran confessional identity from 1555-1580. As we today find ourselves living in a generation that has very little regard for confessionalism and tradition, the perspectives of Lutheranism in this early Reformation period bear consideration. Avoiding extremes on both ends of the spectrum, what Gritsch points out reflects a helpful balance. Let me quote a bit from his book, beginning with a portion in which he speaks of the place of the catechism in the Church's teaching ministry:

If Scripture is the 'touchstone' by which all Christian teaching is to be judged, then the catechism is the whetstone that sharpens minds and shapes hearts in the Church. Luther's catechisms became the blueprints for a theological vision of existence under God (71).

Later in the chapter, he spells out the specific ways in which the catechism was employed to achieve those ends.

The catechetical way established a Lutheran confessional identity that is characterized by three enduring aspects. First, the catechisms are a testimony to what can be called the 'rabbinical' way of the Christian life. The emphasis on learning and teaching for life reflects the classical rabbinical combination of preaching and teaching, adopted by the ancient church as kerygma (proclamation) and didache (teaching). Consequently, catechetics is not an added specialty of the ministry, be it ordained or not ordained, but rather the most essential part of the ministry to which Jesus commissioned his disciples...The catechisms are designed to keep the vigil for the freedom of the gospel in a world tempted by idolatry...Solid, continuing theological education, grounded in a catechism, is like a good snowplow: it clear the road so that destinations can be reached.

Second, the catechisms are intimately linked to worship. There is a liturgy of the mind, as it were, related to the liturgy of word and sacrament...Christian learning begins with initiation into worship...[and] in this sense, Christian pedagogy differs from what is called natural pedagogy: Christian nurture is not based on the development of ego-potential—the completion of something good that is inherent in human nature and is brought out by education (Latin: educare, 'to lead out'). Rather, Christian nurture or formation occurs through intimate contact with the symbolic, ritual, and sacramental culture of the Church, in the never-ending relationship of the baptized with the visible and audible words, that is, the Eucharistic meal and the story of the gospel.

Third and finally, the catechisms are designed to prevent ecclesiastical triumphalism. Good catechetics keeps people aware of the limitation of life in the mean, the time between Christ's first and second advent, between baptism and death (75-76).

There is a lot of value in this. Although this is obviously written from a Lutheran perspective, it seems to be well-balanced and to represent a healthy view of the confessions of the Church, one which we could learn from.
Photo: "Luther's Small Catechism," by Penzance.

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We here at Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando were privileged to have Dr. Herman Selderhuis, professor of church history at the Theologische Universiteit Apeldoorn, deliver the Kistemaker Lectures about a month ago on the topic of John Calvin. This year, 2009, marks the 500th anniversary of Calvin's birth and there are a large number of events and conferences going on to celebrate that. Dr. Selderhuis gave four lectures under the heading, "The Discovery of John Calvin." The lectures are available for download here (note: you'll need to have iTunes installed), and I encourage you to listen to them. There is a lot of valuable and interesting material there.

As I listened to them, I noted some of the more interesting things I heard, which I reproduce here (along with the approximate location where you can find it in the lecture).

1. Calvin did not want his theology to be known as Calvinism. As time went on, Calvin was aware of his increasing influence in the world of the Reformation, and was worried that people would begin to idolize him or his theology. As it were, Calvinism was actually a term given to Calvin's theology by Reformation-era Lutherans, and it was applied in a derogatory manner. So, Selderhuis suggests, call yourself Reformed instead.
   (Lecture 1, ±27:00-28:00)
2. It is often the case that people just equate Calvin with the Institutes. But in order to get an accurate portrayal of his whole system of thought and theology, we need to read all of his works together.
   (Lecture 2, ±3:00-4:00)
3. Calvin believed that the preaching of the Word should be accompanied by the showing and signing of the Word in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper each week. When you think you are being very Calvinistic by celebrating the Lord's Supper four or five times a year, you are actually being very loyal to the anti-Calvin leaders of the time in Geneva who opposed Calvin's desire to partake of the Supper each week.
   (Lecture 2, ±19:00-20:00)
4. We primarily use the Institutes as a theological work, but Calvin did not write it as a theological treatise, per se. It was meant, first and foremost, as a pastoral work that would lead people to a deeper understanding of the Christian life. For Calvin, doctrine and piety went hand in hand.
   (Lecture 2, ±46:00-47:00)
5. The Institutes, both originally and as we have them today, are published in large volumes, which one would likely not read in its entirety. In the mid-1500s, a Frenchman published a summary of the Institutes, a summary which gave heavy attention to the issues of the day, such as predestination. That is why Calvinism today has this caricature of being fatalistic or deterministic. If you read the Institutes in their entirety, however, you notice that the largest section of the whole work is devoted to prayer. The Frenchman who published the summary, however, thought that was not an issue. The point is, then, don't read just the summaries, but go ad fontes—back to the sources.
   (Lecture 2, ±50:00-52:00)
6. Martin Luther thought Calvin's short treatise on the Lord's Supper to be very helpful. This should not be all that surprising to us, because the understanding of the Lord's Supper in many Reformed churches actually tends toward a Zwinglian understanding instead of a Calvinistic one. Calvin combined the strengths of both Zwingli's and Luther's understanding of the Supper, and saw his view as quite in agreement with Luther.
   (Lecture 3, ±11:00, 17:00-18:00)
7. Finally, Calvin was convinced that if Luther had lived longer, he would not have sided with the Lutherans. The followers of Luther became quite militant after his death, and deviated considerably from Luther's theology.
   (Lecture 3, ±32:00-33:00)

I did not mention anything from the fourth lecture, but if you are of Dutch ancestry, you will find that one particularly humorous, as Selderhuis pokes a bit of fun at some of the perspectives of Dutch Reformed folk, especially on their understanding of the Sabbath.

All in all, it was a great blessing to have Selderhuis here. His perspectives on Calvin were enlightening and refreshing. Download the lectures, and enjoy what he has to say. He also has a new biography of Calvin that has just been released, which you can purchase here.

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Matt Cleaver has a great post today which he has titled "A Theology of Geography: Locality and Proximity," which, I must say, sounds a lot more like the title of a book than a blog post. Matt's reflection is based on this quote about vocation that he draws from Martin Luther: "The call to follow Christ leads not to any religious vocation removed from daily life, but instead it transforms the attitude and understanding one has of the situation in which one already is."

Narrowing in on the last clause of that statement, "the situation in which one already is," Matt looks past the occupational, marital, or social situations we find ourselves in, and adds the concept of geographical situation in understanding our calling, thereby entering into a discussion of a certain element of ecclesiology my readers know I have an affinity for--the local church. The vocation and calling of the Christian as a member of the Church needs to be understood in part in the local sense, Matt argues. Wondering if there are many people who have thought about vocation as something that encompasses all of life, Matt muses over "how many have taught, and more importantly lived, vocation as living out your faith literally where you are located."

I want to reproduce in their entirety Matt's suggestions for what we would perhaps see if our churches radically recaptured this notion of the local church. His suggestions bear consideration. Here is what he has to say:

• Churches would be smaller. This is the most obvious observation. If churches are within walking distance, people aren’t going to want to go far, so churches would have to be pretty small. Maybe they wouldn’t even need a building in some cases.
• No need for parking lots, or just very small ones. Think of the money spent to buy land and then pave over that land so people don’t have to drive their cars and walk through the mud. No need for that when people walk to church.
• Denominationalism would die… faster. Postmodernity seems to be bringing about the death of denominations already, but valuing close proximity would speed that process. If churches’ allegiance was to a particular locale they would be less able to cater to their own denominational supporters. In Texas there are likely only a handful of Lutherans within walking distance of existing churches. Baptists are another story. Churches would be defined by shared mission, not shared denominational subscription (or tradition).
• The church would embody a counter-cultural practice that highlighted holistic living. Most of us live in a culture that lives, works, worships, and shops in different geographic locales. As such, our lives become disjointed and fragmented. To do all these things in the same basic geographic area would help us to integrate ourselves into the lives of people, rather than just their functions because we would see the same people over and over again in different life situations. We would become aware of local issues of crime, taxes, education, politics that affected the whole congregation, not just certain segments. If people were trained to gather and worship in places close to their homes, I suspect they would begin to look for ways to live out other aspects of their lives in a similar manner.
• The church would embody a counter-church-culture practice of environmental stewardship. Think about how much gas is spent by people driving to churches multiple times a week. Especially when gas prices were skyrocketing, this was beginning to become an issue because of the financial implications. Regardless of cost, it is still a theological issue of stewardship. Should Christians be consuming so much driving back and forth to church?
• Community would be formed. Children would attend the same schools, parents would shop in the same grocery stores, and families would play at the same parks. Families would be available to pick up other people’s children from school, babysit on short notice, help repair a leaky faucet, and a whole host of other everyday tasks because the lived just minutes away from each other. I believe many people in our congregation are willing to help one another, but it becomes difficult when round trips to other people’s homes eat up 30 minutes or more.
• Mission would become local again. Churches could become the centerpieces of social life in communities because they would be in tune with and attentive to the needs of the local community. In areas where after school programs were lacking, churches could step in. Where there was a high concentration of elderly people, churches could provide needed services. If systemic poverty was an issue, churches could provide occupational skills training. Each church would find its mission because they were situated in a particular geographical context. The needs of the church would by definition be the needs of the local community. Churches would become known as positive change agents in communities again.
• Taxes would go down. My contention is that the government does a lot of tasks and provides a lot of services that could (or should?) be provided by churches. If churches live out their mission in their local contexts as described above, then the less government needs to fill in the gap. Okay, well, taxes might not go down, but maybe they would not go up.
• Youth and children would not be bound by their ability to find a ride to church. As someone in youth ministry, many things are significantly hindered because almost everything requires getting in a car and driving, even if activities are hosted at someone’s house and not the church building. If a church is within walking distance, kids as young as elementary age would be able to walk to church or one another’s house at almost any time.

Although some of my considerations might be slightly different, I do agree with many of Matt's sentiments here. There are significant hindrances to the Church fulfilling her mission in its entirety when the body of a local church is composed of people who live many miles away from that church in different communities, towns, and cities. In saying this, I must confess that I am one of those people--my drive to church on Sunday takes about twenty minutes. However, I have long struggled with this and have often thought about how things would be different if I lived significantly closer. Listening to a message once from the series on ecclesiology put out by Sovereign Grace Ministries, I remember being challenged by Joshua Harris who made the point that when we move to a new city, perhaps we should first find a church community to worship with and then go out and find a job and place to live. What I find so poignant about Harris' statement is that, in doing so, we actively live with the Church at the center of our lives and our community. It seems to me that in doing this, we are starting to work towards recapturing the Church's mission and our calling, and we are fostering the communal nature that we were designed for.

Matt concludes with observing how perplexing it is that our "churches live and function in mirror image to our wider consumer culture and how often that hinders ministry. Is becoming local again the radical first step in making a break from the culture and redefining ourselves in light of Christ’s call?...If churches really want to teach vocation, how better than to live it out by become truly local congregations." Again, I think he makes an excellent point.

As I mentioned, I have come back to this theme several times in the past couple of months (see here, and here, for example), and I realize that there are barriers to constructing a purely local church community, most notably the question of theological cohesiveness. But I think Matt provides a lot of material to think about and discuss here. So let us do so. What do you think? What is helpful in what Matt is suggesting; what is not? What would you add (or subtract) to the notion of the local church?

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(HT: JT)

No more Driscoll after this for a while, I just found this interesting. Also, I think Martin Luther would like Mark Driscoll. And even though this is two posts on the same topic, that still does not mean I condone the use of harsh language.

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