For by him
all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether
thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through
him and for him. (Colossians 1:16 ESV)
I was
thinking the other day about how much I miss worshipers in the pews, for many
reasons. But I miss it during this pandemic for one overarching reason, thanks
to another pastor who enriched my understanding of the roots of Lutheran
liturgy and corporate worship as “heaven on earth.”
I’ve
mentioned the Rev. Dr. Arthur Just in a sermon from time to time and more than
once in a Bible study. His claim to fame is the two-volume Concordia Publishing
House commentary on Luke, but Dr. Just was one of my favorite seminary
professors, both online (when I started in 2005) and at the seminary itself,
where he lectured on the roots of Lutheran worship liturgy (the elements of
which go back to the 4th century and grew out of Jewish house worship). He
wrote a book (one of numerous, actually) about Lutheran worship history and
practices entitled Heaven on Earth, required reading for my
liturgics course, in which he writes the following (my underlining):
Early
Christians believed that Jesus, the crucified and ascended Lord, was present
with them through Word and Sacrament. This biblical eschatology is missing in
many discussions about worship and liturgy today. In our liturgy we
join all saints in one worshiping assembly because there Jesus Christ is
present both in heaven and on earth. The saints in heaven and the
worshiping congregation on earth manifest their unity in the one liturgy.
In the liturgy the Church tells the world that its story is an eternal one
because the presence of Jesus Christ, the eternal One, now dwells in the world.
The
liturgy places us on a historical and eschatological line through God's great,
objective, cosmic act of justification in Jesus Christ. We now have the same
status in the kingdom of God as both the prophets of old and the saints in
glory. We are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses who have gone before us, and,
with Christians everywhere, we rejoice in their presence. They are standing
with us and joining their voices with ours in one glorious liturgy.
During one afternoon
lecture, Dr. Just spoke of graduating from the seminary in 1980 and during the
first year of ministry at a broken congregation, coming to the realization that
he didn't have a full understanding of suffering. Folks were bringing him—a young
guy right out of seminary— their burdens and he described how he was
overwhelmed. Then he spoke of two specific incidents that provided a more
personal insight into what he was going through. Only a few months into his
call as a pastor, his wife's sister was brutally murdered in Dallas. Months
later, the son of one of his parishioners was diagnosed with cancer, which took
him at the age of 12. Dr. Just recalled in front of us how he wrote a funeral
sermon based on the theology of the excerpt above, hoping that the parents
would be comforted by knowing that, as their son was with Jesus and we believe
that Jesus is present during the service (along with angels, archangels, and
all the saints of heaven), that their son was present, too. He then related how
the father appreciated his words, but to him his son was still gone...at only
12 years old. It was all I could do to not excuse myself and step out of the
lecture hall to regain my composure.
I think of my
time as a seminarian, sheltered behind the walls of the monastery, steeped in
God’s Word, our only true doctrine as Christians. Luther said “Doctrine is
heaven; life is earth. In life there is sin, error, uncleanness, and misery,
mixed, as the saying goes, ‘with vinegar.’" The longer we are to “shelter
in place,” “social distance,” move through life in a mask, and be subjected to the
fear-mongering of armchair and talking-head prophets, the more I yearn for
corporate worship…for heaven on earth.
That
particular class session with Dr. Just was my last of the day. On the drive
home I seriously pondered what I was getting myself into. And I thanked God.
Until next
month…
Peace be with
you all,
Pastor E.B.
