What does 'Zion Lutheran' mean?

The following article was published in the Advance News Journal (weekly newspaper serving Hidalgo County) on September 23, 2020. I’d like you to read it from the perspective of someone from the community we serve, of no particular age, gender, or demographic; someone looking for a church home; someone who is not Lutheran.

In the three years I’ve had the privilege and pleasure of serving at Zion Lutheran Church in Alamo, it’s become clear to me that our church—in particular, our church building—on South Alamo Road may be losing its identity. I often wonder what, if any, impression our building makes on passers-
by. There’s no spire, no bell tower (well, there’s an aging one near the front doors, a sentinel from another era), only a big blue cross holding an electric sign with ZION LUTHERAN CHURCH across the top in letters that you’d swear weren’t there the first time you looked (like the bell tower, this cross is a sentinel guarding a different time). Our present building, opened in 1967, was a departure from its original, early 20^th-century small-town church design.

Our name has a distant ring to it from nearly a century ago, when our congregation was established in 1927. Once upon a time, there were hundreds of Zion Lutheran Churches scattered about the U.S., each with a name not unfamiliar to the communities they served. Today, however, in English (or even Spanish: La Iglesia Luterana Sión) such a name may seem almost cult-like.

Yes, it’s possible that in this era of bicultural and bilingual neighbors, as well as spiritual ambivalence, our church may be experiencing something of an identity crisis. Folks with only a cursory knowledge of the Bible might think “Zion” is a surname. And I’ve found that amid a predominately Catholic population, the name “Lutheran” may or may not be familiar; I’ve been asked if Lutherans are Christians and heard more than once “We’re not Christian, we’re Catholic.” Our building’s somewhat ambiguous façade and our cryptic-sounding name echoes, but may also obscure, a heritage of Christ-centered church life built around family, fellowship, and community service in a city that’s barely older than the congregation itself.

Our founders weren’t alone in their choice of a parish name that was not only pious, but identifiably Protestant; Zion appears in the Old Testament 152 times meaning Jerusalem and in the New Testament has come to mean the Church, as well as the heavenly city in Revelation. And there aren’t too many churches with “Zion” and “Catholic” in the name, due to the Roman Catholic tradition regarding parish names.

As for the name “Lutheran,” that belonged to Martin Luther, a 16^th-century Roman Catholic priest and theology professor in Germany who found himself at odds with the church he loved over, among other issues, the sale of forgiveness of sins (called “indulgences”) and was excommunicated by the pope. This explains why Lutheran pastors wear robes and stoles in (pardon the pun) Catholic fashion, and why Baptism and Communion in our church are considered sacraments.

Does this mean we’re some strangely named branch of Protestants with Catholic underpinnings? Not quite. In 1522, Luther wrote “I ask that my name be left silent and people not call themselves Lutheran, but rather Christians.” The fact is, we believe that we are saved by God’s grace alone, through faith alone in Christ alone. We teach that Jesus is the focus of the entire Bible and that faith in him alone is the way to eternal salvation. Nothing more, nothing less.

A church is not its name and building, but its people. A new era is dawning at Zion Lutheran Church—maybe it is time for us to address our identity, to remind folks in our wonderfully bicultural community that our doors are open, as they have been for the past 93 years. I personally invite you to visit us online at www.zionalamo.org. Then consider visiting us in person. Become part of our history. Be part of our future!

I believe that future growth and outreach success will depend on our ability, resolve, and desire to put ourselves in the shoes of our neighbors in order to better meet their needs. What they look like or where they come from is immaterial; that they need a Savior is a fact. A new dawn is rising in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic and the future is bright!

Consider the question that so many others beyond the church doors may already be asking: What does Zion Lutheran mean?

Until next month…

Peace be with you all,

Pastor E.B.

theo-pneus-tos

One of the very few fears I have in life—particularly as a pastor—is the loss of inspiration, the motivation for self-expression, the urge to create. Even worse—to no longer be able to find sources of inspiration, to begin to intellectually, emotionally, and creatively flatline. One look out the window into the reality of 2020, a year of pestilence, political upheaval, natural disasters, racial tension, loss of livelihood, closed schools, empty ballparks, mask-shaming, and it’s easy to understand the metastasizing grief and fear that can hijack our senses and our inspiration (not to mention our faith).

The Ancient Greeks believed they were inspired by the Muses (from where we get the verb to muse, as well as the noun music), nine goddesses on whose mercy the creativity, wisdom, and insight of all artists and thinkers depended. I read that poets like Homer, Virgil, and Ovid were thought to have no talent of their own. They received their inspiration—from the Greek inspirare, meaning to breathe into—from the only beings who held the power to create anything: the gods. I would agree whole-heartedly, though only after changing “the gods” to “God.”

The word inspiration is rooted in the Latin spirare (“to breathe”) and is directly related to spirit, from Latin spiritus (“breath”). But there is another curious word, right out of Scripture that translates, quite literally, to “given by inspiration of God”—a word so unique that it appears only once in the New Testament (2 Timothy 3:16): theopneustos.

It’s very possible that Paul may have actually invented this word (inspired by the Spirit), which breaks down into three parts: theos (the Greek word for “God”), pneus from pneo, the Greek verb meaning “breathe” or “blow” and also the root word for pneuma, the Greek word for “wind” and “spirit”), and tos (a suffix that describes something done by God). It’s very easy to see the connection between inspiration and faith, even in everyday life. Even in 2020.

I very often draw inspiration from others—people I know, historical figures, and certainly from the Bible. I find muses in the unlikely, but hardly accidental, heroes of Joseph, Moses, Joshua, Jonah, Paul, etc., as well as other real-life heroes, such as Martin Luther, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and another who popped up on my radar a few days ago, a man whose courage and faith under trying, life-threating circumstances should serve as an inspiration for Christians the world over. This man is the subject of a 1959 film entitled Molokai, La Isla Maldita (“Molokai, the Damned Island”).

Belgian priest Jozef De Veuster, Father Damien, was ordained in 1864 at the age of 23. His first assignment was to the island of Hawaii. At that time, the Hawaiian government decided to stop the spread of leprosy by deporting those thought to be infected to the island of Molokai. Father Damien volunteered to be the first priest to visit the colony and seeing the living hell among those banished to it, he stayed for 16 years, bandaging patients, washing them, and digging their graves (he also built houses, churches, orphanages, coffins, and a system for clean water). In 1889 he died...of leprosy.

Without suffering there would be no need for faith. This year, so far, has brought suffering, to be sure; however, the same faith that helps us endure suffering can also serve as a conduit for inspiration and courage. We can choose to succumb to the grief and fear or respond in faith, to keep that inspiration alive, intellectually, emotionally, and creatively—secure in what Paul writes in Philippians 4:3, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

My faith keeps my fears at bay, and any inspiration a theopneustos (that is, something God-breathed). My Muse is the Holy Spirit, through whom I can see God’s hand in my life and in the world around me. In fact, I feel inspired right now. Time to get busy...

...there’s much to do! :)

Until next month…

Peace be with you all,

Pastor E.B.