Monday, May 21, 2018

Loose Laces (Part 1 of 2)

In the short time I’ve been a pastor I’ve met all kinds of Christians—some seasoned, others just starting to toddle; I’ve even met a select few called, I suppose, by the Spirit to “baptize” a newly-minted pastor with questions “every pastor ought to know the answer to.” Church folk—and so Lutherans—come in all shapes and colors and sizes, with varying levels of church life experience/involvement, biblical/doctrinal familiarity, and knowledge about what their own church teaches (much less someone else’s). But what all Christians have in common are the shoes (perhaps sandals?) on those feet that follow Jesus… Some are laced up nice and tight, while others are…well loosely wrapped or not even tied at all.

There’s no doubt about it—one’s adoption into God’s family at Baptism is not only a lifelong commitment from God, but a lifelong learning curve, for no other reasons than to keep the Cross the focal point for all one thinks, says, hears, and does, to learn to recognize false teaching, and to keep that pesky devil at bay. The Apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Timothy 3:16-17 that “all Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.” Two of the most trusted tools in Satan’s toolbox are vanity (in particular, complacence) and ignorance (the true source of confusion about our world and our God).

For a number of people, ignorance about Martin Luther, the Protestant Reformation, and Lutherans in general, is not unlike a loose shoelace. I have heard Lutheranism referred to as Catholic lite and the Reformation called a second Crusade (as though Luther and other Reformers were motivated by a call to war against the Pope). Luther at the start of the 16th century faced more than a degenerate Roman Catholic Church—his church, the church that he loved; he encountered clergy “altogether incapable and incompetent to teach” and laity with “no knowledge whatever of Christian doctrine,” not to mention inveterate illiteracy. Luther found himself with more than a few shoes to tie (so to speak).

Lutheran professor Charles Arand, in the introduction to his book That I May Be His Own, writes that in 1528 (eleven years after Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of All Saints’ Church in Wittenburg) “it became painfully evident that the Reformation had not taken hold at the grassroots of the population as once hoped.” Many had become indifferent to church. Following several parish visits that year, Luther produced his Small Catechism (a more in-depth Large Catechism quickly followed), which, notes Arand, had been “translated into every language on the continent” by the end of the 16th century.

Catechesis in the sense of simplified instruction of the basic tenets of the Christian faith was Luther’s remedy for the epidemic of loose shoelaces nearly 500 years ago (a remedy still used in the Lutheran Church today). In addition to contending with ignorance, illiteracy, and indifference, Luther had to deal with one of his contemporaries (in what came to be known as the Antinomian Controversy), Johannes Agricola, who was teaching in error that the Gospel, not the Law, brings knowledge of sin and contrition. In January 1529, the first iteration of the Small Catechism was printed in everyday German on paper large enough to hang up, poster-like, for easy access, particularly in the home. Luther intended this Catechism (and the book editions that followed) to be used by the head of the household for basic Christian instruction centered on memorization of the Ten Commandments, the Apostles’ Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer. He also included explanations of Baptism, Confession and Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper, as well Daily Prayers, Table of Duties, and Christian Questions with Their Answers (and later editions contained woodcut illustrations). The advent of the printing press helped Luther to get the Word out—literally. According to Arand, by the end of the 16th century about 150 editions of the Small Catechism had appeared, making it “the standard and norm for all other catechisms.”

For Luther, catechesis was inextricably linked to the liturgy, as those familiar with, at least, the three chief parts of his Catechisms (which he considered a summary of scripture and all that was needed to know for salvation) could better understand the sermon—while Luther preached on catechetic topics, he was aware of how little was actually learned from a sermon. The same year his Small Catechism was published he promoted it as a confessional manual used to examine people for admittance to the Lord’s Supper. If one could recite the chief parts and demonstrate an understanding of each, confess sins contritely, and express an earnest desire to continue learning, one would receive absolution and the Sacrament.

Arand points out that “Luther also recognized that while the catechism leads a person into the Scriptures, it also functions as a catalyst for bringing the same Scriptures into the life of Christians.” For Luther, the basic elements of Christian faith contained in his catechisms were not only meant to better one’s church life but aid the Christian in everyday life outside the church.

Until next month, may the Lord bless you and keep you!

Pastor E.B.

P.S. On May 21 I received a somewhat cryptic, but very kind postcard from an anonymous sender with no return address and a postmark from Dallas. I’d sure like to know who you are in order to personally thank you!