Jesus Gives An Elevated Status to Human Beings

Among the documented actions and words of Jesus, there are many surprising and puzzling instances. Scholars have been wrestling with these texts for two thousand years, and the perennial questions remain. It is as if Jesus delights in stumping us: He keeps us guessing.

One such text includes His enigmatic comments about His family. This event is recorded in all three synoptic Gospels, but not in John. Luke’s version, in chapter eight, looks like this:

Then his mother and his brothers came to him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. And he was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, desiring to see you.” But he answered them, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

One individual, or perhaps a small group of people, come to Jesus with the information that His mother and brothers would like to see Him. Which answer did they expect from Jesus? As a faithful Jew, and a Rabbi, Jesus would have been expected to know not only the obvious commandment (Exodus 20:12, Deuteronomy 5:16, Leviticus 19:3), but rather also the deep attachment between parent and child — and between siblings — which is taught throughout all Scripture: e.g., the devotion which Jacob’s twelve sons show him, and which Joseph shows to his brothers, in the text of Genesis.

This devotion is not weakened by the sins which parents and children commit against each other, or which siblings commit against each other: Jacob’s sons sinned against Jacob by selling Joseph into slavery and then fabricating a deception about Joseph’s alleged death. Jacob sinned against his sons by favoring Joseph and Benjamin over the others. Joseph sinned against his brothers in his arrogance. The brothers sinned against Joseph.

Yet, in all this plentiful sin, the attachment of the children to the parents, and of the siblings to each other, was strong: The brothers are clearly concerned about how Jacob will react to any of the possible outcomes of their trip to Egypt. Joseph is clearly motivated by love toward his brothers.

A variety of words can be used to label this familial love: bond, fondness, duty, tenderness, attachment, devotion, commitment, warmth, loyalty, affection, etc.

Jesus certainly knew all this, and those who brought the message to Him — the message that His mother and brothers were waiting for Him — expected that He would know all this. They probably expected — this is a bit speculative, and methodologically, a little speculation is permissible, especially if it is prudent and informed speculation — that Jesus would react with instinctive affection and reverence for His mother and brothers.

The answer which He gives is indirect. He does not say, “I’ll interrupt what I’m doing now, and greet them.” He also does not say, “I don’t care about them and I’m not interested in them.” Instead, He doesn’t speak directly about them, but rather about His followers.

Given His rabbinic status, He didn’t need to explain that He had a deep affection for His mother and brothers, and His listeners didn’t need it explained to them. That is already an intrinsic part of His Hebrew piety.

Instead, Jesus takes His high regard and deep loyalty to His mother and brothers, and making that a standard reference point, bestows upon His followers a profound compliment: He raises them to the level of His mother and brothers.

In now way is Jesus demoting His family: On the contrary, He is indicating that their centrality in His life is a fixed point, and now has honored His followers by acknowledging them as having the same high status.

It is, in effect, as if He were saying: “My mother and brothers are here, and desire to see Me, and I desire to see them, and My affection for them is great. And now, I also say that My affection for My followers is so great that it has reached the high level of affection which I have for My mother and brothers.”

Matthew offers his account of this event, in chapter twelve, with slightly different wording:

While he was still speaking to the people, behold, his mother and his brothers stood outside, asking to speak to him. But he replied to the man who told him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

In this text, it is detailed that the message was brought to Jesus by one man. The importance of this small detail will be left to the reader as an exercise.

Jesus responds to the information with a question — most likely, a rhetorical question. He probably didn’t expect a literal answer from the man who brought the message to Him, or from any bystanders. He goes on to answer His own question.

He announces that His followers, at the moment, those present with Him at that place, but in general, all His followers, are being elevated to the status of His family. As if He were saying: “I have such fondness for My disciples, that I am going to raise them to the level of My mother and brothers. My family has always rightly had My highest level of affection, and now I lift My followers to that same high level.”

Jesus is not lowering His mother and brothers; rather, He is promoting His disciples to the level of mother and brothers.

He adds that “whoever does the will of My Father in heaven” has this status. Scripture clearly shows us that on the one hand, His disciples routinely failed to do or say the right things, and on the other hand, there is at least one example in which His family fails to understand who He is, and expresses doubt or skepticism. Therefore, neither His family nor His disciples did “the will of My Father in heaven” completely, perfectly, or consistently. What does He mean?

To be justified in the sight of God — the grammatical passive is important — is to be declared righteous. Jesus is attributing His own perfect actions to His family and to His followers. His family was already among His disciples, and so He completes the logic by placing His disciples among His family. Both in the synoptics and in John, His mother Mary and His brothers are reckoned among the early church: and in the rest of the New Testament as well.

Mark’s account is similar to Matthew’s:

And his mother and his brothers came, and standing outside they sent to him and called him. And a crowd was sitting around him, and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, seeking you.” And he answered them, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.”

Mark’s account has more than one person — “they” — delivering the message to Jesus, in contrast to Matthew’s stipulation of a single messenger. Like Luke, Mark specifies that His mother and brothers arrived, i.e., they were not there by chance; they had made a planned journey, whether it was short or long. They would not have made such a journey unless they had an established and good relationship with Jesus.

What happened immediately after Jesus spoke the words recorded? Taking into consideration other passages both in the synoptics and in John, it is clear that Jesus generally enjoyed a good relationship with His mother and brothers. To be sure, they were not perfect, and did not follow Him perfectly — exactly as the disciples were not perfect. In no way does Jesus attribute superiority to His disciples over His family; in no way does He prefer the company of the one to the company of the other. He has a profound attachment to them both.

It is safe to conclude that, after Jesus was notified that His mother and brothers had arrived, and after He said words in reply — the words recorded in the three synoptics — He then proceeded to meet with them. He did not ignore them; He did not shun them. This can be seen, e.g., in John chapter two:

This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him. After this he went down to Capernaum, with his mother and his brothers and his disciples, and they stayed there for a few days.

Jesus makes the trip from Cana to Galilee “with” His family and disciples. Jesus is an itinerant Rabbi; traveling is His way of life. It seems that this travel was habitually in the company of His family and disciples.

Notice also that the statement that Jesus was traveling with His family is woven into the narrative of the miracle at Cana, including the explicit detail that the disciples “believed in Him.” It is to be concluded that His family also already “believed in Him,” because the family and disciples are blended into one group — the group which traveled from Cana to Capernaum was not segregated: it is one group, with Jesus as the focal point. They traveled together, and “they” stayed in Capernaum.

Jesus in no way downgrades His family. In His words, He first elevates His disciples to the level of His family, and then ceases to distinguish between the two. With His rhetorical question — “Who are my mother and brothers?” — He is in effect saying, “My family is precious and dear to Me,” and He does His disciples the honor of promoting them to the status of family members.

Rhyme, Meter, and Jesus

Poetry is an intrinsic aspect of following Jesus. Certainly, not everyone who follows Jesus is a poet! Nor need they like or study poetry.

In some form, however, poetry is ubiquitous in the faith. Both the Old Testament and the New Testament contain poetry, and in noteworthy quantities.

Outside of the canon of Scripture, poets in various languages, cultures, times, and places have expressed their faith in verse.

But a huge amount of poetry is hiding in plain sight, so to speak, because the lyrics to a worship song - the words of a hymn - are poetry. Many worshippers might answer in the negative if asked about regular encounters with sacred poetry, but those same worshippers might volunteer that great quantities of song fill their worship.

The style of music does not matter - from Gregorian Chant to the Hip-Hop praises of artists like LeCrae and Trip Lee, from Baroque chorales to tobyMac and Hillsong UNITED. Songs have texts, and those texts are poetry.

One aspect of poetry is structure. Some, but not all, poetry rhymes. Most, but not all, poems have some metrical structure. Ancient Hebrew poetry is structured around comparison and contrast of ideas in couplets. Much poetry is built, in some way around sound. It is meant to heard as much as, or more than, it is meant to be visually read.

Because Jesus followers are diverse across languages and cultures, the reader is confronted with poetry which is not in his idiom. The question of translation is one with spiritual significance. How best to render devotional poetry in another language?

Because worship songs and hymnody are used around the globe, translation is often done with an eye toward a musical setting. This requires relatively strict syllable counts and often includes rhymes.

Confining a translation to metrical patterns and rhyme schemes can do violence to faithfully rendering the ideas into another language. One can successfully fit the words into a musical setting, but at the price of misrepresenting the propositional content of the text.

To this end it can be salutary to make or read free-verse translations of sacred verse. A free-verse poem, or a free-verse translation of a poem, has neither rhyme nor meter. These might complement the standard translations of hymns and songs.

On the other hand, one might take Hebrew poetry, e.g., the Psalms, and translate them into structured poetry which has both rhyme and meter. Hebrew poetry has no rhyme, and generally has no meter, although there are some scholars who suggest that it has, in some instances, a subtle form of meter, which is a rhythm more of ideas than of syllables.

In any case, it is good to be aware of what is happening structurally in a poetic text, whether that text is treated as a poem or as a piece of vocal music. In the case of Scripture, poetic texts can often be clearly contrasted to prose, e.g., Mark 1:4-7 are prose, and set apart from Mark 1:2b-3, which is poetry; Mark 1:1-2a are again prose.

Awareness of poetic forms can help the reader to discern meanings. Hebrew poetry is often constructed around couplets, and those couplets often contain parallel meanings. If a line seems ambiguous or mysterious, it can help the reader to know that it may well be echoing the meaning of the preceding line, or foreshadowing the meaning of the following line.

Psalm 88:18 is a clear couplet:

You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
my companions have become darkness.

If the reader is unsure of what it means for people to “become darkness” in this context, the preceding line, i.e., the first line of the couplet, reveals that the phrase refers to isolation or ostracism.

The reader would be well advised to consult Robert Lowth’s Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews and George Buchanan Gray’s The Forms of Hebrew Poetry.

Language: Concealing or Revealing?

Investigating the Scriptures obviously requires wrestling with the questions of translation from one language to another, but it also requires exploring within a single language the process by which thoughts and ideas are transmitted via written or spoken symbols, i.e., via words.

The reader will perhaps already be aware of common examples: the English word ‘love’ can be a rendering of any one of at least four different Greek words, each of which denotes a slightly different type of love.

The English words ‘angel’ and ‘messenger’ represent one single Hebrew word, which can refer to either a supernatural being or a flesh-and-blood mortal deliveryman.

Greek has two different words for ‘time’ — one referring to a point in time, the other referring to time as a segment or continuum.

Aside from such lexical examples, there are syntactical instances which provoke further investigation, e.g., Hebrew pronouns. The English pronoun ‘you’ can stand for any one of four Hebrew words. The second person pronoun in Hebrew is inflected according to number and gender. Consider this:

If a person asks, “Are you going to the party tomorrow?” to a man or to a woman, in English, the question is the same. But in Hebrew, the word ‘you’ would be different. There is a masculine form of ‘you’ and a feminine form of ‘you,’ and the speaker will choose one or the other, depending on who is receiving the question.

Or a teacher might say to a student, ‘You are doing this very well.’ Again, in Hebrew, there would be two different forms of this question, with one of two different forms of ‘you,’ depending on the gender of the person receiving the question.

A moment’s reflection shows that there is much happening behind the scenes when one reads the Bible in an English translation. Behind every occurrence of the word ‘you’ or ‘your’ is one of several Hebrew words, specifying gender, and also specifying whether the ‘you’ is singular or plural.

A further semantic compilation — and in all these instances, semantics and syntax are intertwined — in the conjugation of verbs. Hebrew verbs are gendered: if a man says, “I’m eating a hamburger,” then that sentence will be different than if a woman says, “I’m eating a hamburger.” The Hebrew language expresses the present time by using a present participle, and there are masculine and feminine forms of this present participle.

Again, underneath the English words printed in a translation of the Bible lie a variety of forms in the original languages which add information beyond the meaning of the English rendering.

Semantic Fields in Hebrew, Greek, German, and English: The Word of God

Martin Luther’s concept of God was drawn from the entirety of Scripture. It is impossible, therefore, to isolate one passage as “the” central and decisive key to interpreting Luther, or to interpreting Luther’s understanding Scripture.

It is, however, clear that at least a few key texts are essential to understanding Luther (e.g., Romans 1:17, Galatians 3:11, Hebrews 10:38, all of which refer to Habakkuk 2:4; or Ephesians 2:8-9). But it is also clear that no one text in Scripture will capture God’s totality or will encapsulate His entire plan of salvation.

One of the many texts which is key to understanding Luther is Hebrews 4:12 — “The Word of God is living and active.”

Luther’s linguistic insight is that the Hebrew word dabar and the Greek word logos have semantic fields which extend far beyond the German Wort or the English word. The word ‘word’ is a complicated word!

The Hebrew word dabar can mean, simply, ‘word’ — a linguistic unit. But its semantic field is far greater than this. It can mean: situation, event, activity, circumstance, or a group or cluster of related things. It is rendered into English in a wide variety of ways, again going beyond the simple word ‘word.’

It is therefore appropriate that Luther’s writings about The Word are confusing, as Frank Seilhamer notes:

Luther means so many different things when he uses the term “Word of God” that at times he may seem confused, as well as confusing. Depending on the context in which he is writing, “Word of God” may refer to anything from the Bible, to the whole of divine revelation, and the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, to the apostolic Kerygma, the preached Gospel, the Sacraments, or the advice given by a brother monk. Basically, however, in its deepest sense the “Word of God” is the creative, redemptive activity of God, who is constantly at work revealing himself to man, calling him to repentance and faith. As was true for the ancient Semites, for Luther the “Word” is nothing other than God himself at work with the two-fold purpose of redemption and revelation. The “Word” found, and continually finds, expression in the historic sense in concrete acts of God in the created world, and in concrete events in human history.

Likewise, the Greek word logos means ‘word’ and beyond that can refer to discourse or conversation as a rational process. Logos can also refer to a organizing principle.

As a scholar who was intimately acquainted with both Greek and Hebrew, Luther understood that word in the Scriptures refers often to something deeper and more significant than a linguistic unit, as Frank Seilhamer explains:

The “Word,” as Luther comprehends it, is the dynamic activity of the living God. The “Word” is God actively engaged in “speaking” to his creation. “The ‘Word of God’ is the speech of God,” writes Jaroslav Pelikan, “ and ‘the God who speaks’ would be an appropriate way to summarize Luther’s picture of God.” As Luther so vigorously points out, the God of all creation is not a God of isolation, who exists far off, but is a God who is near. He is a God who by nature wants to “speak,” is able to “speak,” and who is never “speechless.” And when he “speaks” it is not just sounds that he utters. In a “good” Hebraic framework, Luther held that in his “speaking” God himself is present in his “Word.” The “Word” of God is as eternal as God himself. “This voice and eternal speech of God (is) the cosmic sense of the term the ‘Word of God.’”

The implications for the reader are that, when reading Scripture, words like ‘thing, matter, activity’ and many others should be examined to see if they are English renderings of dabar. The phrase ‘The Word of the Lord’ turns out to be a phrase of expansive depth and breadth, and God’s ‘word’ is present, “living and active” in many passages of Scripture which do not contain the English word word.

When the Scriptures speak of the ‘word’ of God, they speak not only of His linguistic activity, but His presence and interaction in all of creation. This observation is not the conclusion of a thought, but rather merely the beginning of the task of reading the totality of Scripture with an eye to the underlying dabar or logos.

Spener’s Theology of Baptism: Anxiety Transforms Grace into Legalism

Philipp Jakob Spener’s 1675/1676 publication Pia Desideria has become a classic text within the pietistic movement, and thereby attracted both praise and disapproval from critics.

Worth noting is Spener’s attitude toward baptism. Spener presents himself as solidly within Lutheranism. Although he affirms a more-or-less standard version of the Lutheran understanding of baptism, he seems almost reluctant to embrace the joyful assurance which Lutheranism finds within baptism.

He subscribes to Luther’s foundational teaching about baptism:

So weiß ich auch die Taufe und deren Kraft nicht hoch genug zu preisen, und glaube, daß sie das eigentliche Bad der Wiedergeburt und Erneuerung des heiligen Geistes sei, Tit. 3,5, oder wie unser Luther im Katechismus sagt: „daß sie wirke Vergebung der Sünden, erlöse von Tod und Teufel, und gebe (nicht nur verspreche) die ewige Seligkeit.“

Yet Spener quickly turns to examine the abuses of baptism. He sees baptism as a standard part of the “lifeless Christianity” trope: the usual presentation of a person who considers herself or himself to be a Christian, and to be assured of eternal salvation, because she or he has performed, or participated in, some list of the church’s rites and ceremonies.

Spener seems focused on contemplating the possible problems caused by those who would see baptism as an easy way to get “cheap grace,” rather than celebrating the benefits of baptism. To be sure, there is a real risk: some people do actually think that their spiritual life is complete based upon the fact of their baptism and perhaps a few other tokens of faith. But Spener dwells almost exclusively on that risk, and doesn’t see that baptism is also the key to the very reformation and renewal that he desires for the church.

Denn wir können nicht leugnen, sondern werden durch die tägliche Erfahrung davon überzeugt, daß nicht Wenige meinen, ihr ganzes Christenthum bestehe darinnen, und alsdann hätten sie dem Gottesdienst übrig genug getan, wenn sie eben getauft wären, das Wort Gottes in der Kirche hörten, beichteten, die Absolution empfingen und zu dem heiligen Abendmahl gingen, mag nun das Herz dabei sein oder nicht, mögen Früchte folgen oder nicht; wenn’s hoch kommt, bemühen sie sich etwa dabei ein solches Leben zu führen, darin eben die Obrigkeit nichts Strafbares findet.

Spener’s desire for a deeper, more passionate and heartfelt faith is certainly sincere and admirable. But his demand to do more is perhaps misguided. Rather than saying that it’s not enough to be baptized, hear God’s Word, confess one’s sins, receive the absolution, and partake of the Lord’s Supper, he might perhaps encourage the reader to contemplate the blessings already received in these things.

It is perhaps a common mistake, throughout the history of the church, to see imperatives as a route to a more living and active faith. Correctly seeing that unengaged worshipers could have a more vibrant spiritual life, Spener and others like him incorrectly imagine that the path to that better life lies in challenges and tasks.

While well-intentioned, externally imposed requirements are merely another form of legalism. Flourishing spiritual life is not fostered by moralizing lectures. It is fostered by receiving grace: through the Word and Sacrament, of course, but also through living in and among followers of Jesus. The vigorous faith which Spener wishes for people is encouraged by example, by seeing the fruit of the Spirit in others.

Spener’s frustration and disappointment are understandable, as is his inclination to prescribe activities designed to fuel a more active spiritual life. But such activities are effective, not when they’re prescribed, but when they’re sought.

He cites a passage from Johann Arndt’s 1605/1610 book, Vier Bücher vom wahren Christentum:

Oder wie der theure Johann Arndt solcher Leute Einbildung beschreibt in seinem Wahren Christenthum Buch 2, Kap. 4: „Ich bin ein Christ, getauft, habe Gottes Wort rein, höre dasselbe, brauche das heilige Sakrament des Abendmahls, ich glaube und bekenne auch alle Artikel des christlichen Glaubens; darum kann es mir nicht mangeln, mein Thun muß Gott gefallen, und ich muß selig werden. So schließt jetzt alle Welt, und hält auch dafür, darinnen bestehe die Gerechtigkeit.“ Man seh am angegebenen Orte auch die Antwort.

The best gratitude is unsolicited gratitude. The best apology is an unsought apology. Likewise, the best act of “living out one’s baptism” — as the common phrase expresses it — is not a response to admonition, but rather emerges from gratitude.

Certain New Testament passages which use words like “admonish, warn, reprimand” are not presenting a general rule for motivating disciples, but rather are directed toward curbing behavior.

Aber damit kehren solche blinde Leute Gottes heilige Absicht ganz um; denn Gott hat dir freilich die Taufe gegeben, daß du nur einmal getauft werden darfst; aber er hat mit dir darin einen Bund gemacht, welcher auf seiner Seite ein Gnadenbund, von der deinigen aber ein Bund des Glaubens und guten Gewissens ist; dieser Bund muß nun dein Leben lang währen. Du tröstest dich also vergeblich deiner Taufe, und der darin zugesagten Gnade der Seligkeit, wenn du auf deiner Seite nicht auch in dem Bunde des Glaubens und guten Gewissens bleibest, oder, wenn du ihn verletzt, wiederum durch herzliche Buße ihn wieder aufrichtest. Also muß deine Taufe, soll sie dir nützen, in steter Übung des ganzen Lebens bleiben.

So it is, then, that Spener loses sight of the blessings which baptism bestows. He is focused on extracting a life of discipleship rather than showing the grace which will cause discipleship to arise uncoerced.

He is so worried that people might become lax in their faith and seek cheap grace, that he sees baptism only as a temptation to laziness and an enticement to spiritual sloth. Thus it is that baptism gradually becomes devalued to the reader of Spener’s book.

Daher soll man auch fleißig nachweisen, wie die göttlichen Mittel des Wortes und der Sakramente es mit solchem innerlichen Menschen zu thun haben; es sei also nicht genug, daß wir das Wort mit dem äußerlichen Ohr hören, sondern wir müssen es auch in das Herz dringen lassen, daß wir daselbst den heiligen Geist reden hören, d.i. seine Versiegelung und Kraft des Wortes mit lebendiger Bewegung und Trost fühlen; es sei nicht genug, daß wir getauft sind, sondern unser innerlicher Mensch, welcher Christum in der Taufe angezogen, müsse auch mit ihm bekleidet bleiben, und das durch sein äußerliches Leben beweisen; es sey nicht genug, äußerlich das heilige Abendmahl empfangen zu haben, sondern unser inwendiger Mensch müsse auch durch solche selige Speise wahrhaftig genährt werden; es sei nicht genug, äußerlich mit dem Munde zu beten, sondern das rechte und wahre Gebet geschehe in unserem Herzen, und breche entweder dann erst in Worte aus, oder bleibe wohl auch gar in der Seele, wo es doch Gott finde und antreffe; es sei nicht genug, daß wir in dem äußerlichen Tempel Gott dienen, sondern unser innerlicher Mensch müsse vor allem Andern in seinem eigenen Tempel (im Herzen) Gott verehren, man sei äußerlich in der Kirche oder nicht, und was dergleichen mehr ist.

Spener is like a man who has a valuable jewel, and yet can see this possession only as a cause to worry about its being stolen. He is like a man who is on a vacation to a beautiful tropical island, and does nothing but worry about the possibility of his stay on the island being disrupted by a hurricane.

Scholars are well aware of Spener’s occasional theological errors, most of which result from the influence of Calvinism. In the case of baptism, however, Spener’s error is less theological and more psychological. He gets the theology mostly correct — citing Luther — but he fails to live in the affect of that theology. The affect of baptism is one of peace, gratitude, and joy. Luther found comfort and shelter in the statement: “I am baptized” — ich bin getauft or baptizatus sum. Spener finds only anxiety and uneasiness in the concept of baptism.

The effect of Spener’s lack of affect is to drive Spener into the arms of legalism: if baptism is perceived exclusively as something which is likely to be misused, then the solution is to create a list of imperatives designed to create the proper spiritual life and thereby to avoid the threatening misuse. But this solution will not work, and will not achieve the desired result. Baptism is one of the means of grace, but Spener’s fretting about it yields the very opposite of grace.

Nothing New, But Everything of Great Value: Philipp Jakob Spener’s Pia Desideria

In 1675-1676, a publisher named Zunner and a printer named Fritgen teamed up in Frankfurt to publish what would become Philipp Jacob Spener’s most famous work: a book titled Pia Desideria. Spener’s book would become a key text in a movement called ‘pietism’ and have an impact in many parts of the world over many years.

In 1674, the Dutch theologian Jodocus van Lodenstein coined the phrase semper reformanda. Certainly, both Spener and Luther would have found plenty of points on which they disagreed with van Lodenstein, but they would have embraced at least some interpretation of the idea that the church is ever in need of reform.

The church requires a continuous critical eye, not from the outside, but rather from the inside, to ensure that it is staying true to its mission, to God’s immutable teachings, and to Jesus. Periodic course corrections are required to keep the church on track.

Spener saw himself in this way, as working in the patterns of Josiah and Luther. Spener argued that he presented nothing new, but rather was seeking to reform the church by bringing it back to its original way of being. The publication of Pia Desideria was Spener’s manifesto: he was making the case that the church needed to be reformed, and giving specific steps for that reform.

Freely admitting that he presents nothing new, Spener offers six points for action:

First, that God’s Word is to be plentiful among us.

Second, to establish and diligently carry out the priesthood of all believers.

Third, the Christianity consists not only of knowing, but also of actions.

Fourth, proper behavior during religious disagreements.

Fifth, the training of preachers at universities.

Sixth, the organizing of sermons for edification of the people.

A quick glance at these six points informs the reader that, with a little adjustment in the wording, they could be found a century or two early among Luther and his colleagues, or a century or two later among theologians ranging from C.F.W. Walther to Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Spener begins his presentation of the first point this way:

Daß man dahin bedacht wäre, das Wort Gottes reichlicher unter uns zu bringen: Wir wissen, daß wir von Natur nichts gutes an uns haben, sondern soll etwas an uns seyn, so muß es von Gott in uns gewürcket werden, und darzu ist das Wort das kräftige Mittel, indem der Glaube aus dem Evangelio entzündet werden muß, das Gesetz aber die Regel gibt der guten Wercke und viel herzlichen Antrieb denselben nachzujagen. Je reichlicher also das Wort unter uns wohnen wird, je mehr werden wir Glaubens und dessen Früchte zuwegen bringen.

If the church has a ministry of “word and sacrament,” Spener seems perhaps to tilt the balance in favor of the word. To be sure, he honors a basic Lutheran understanding of the sacraments, but the amount of text devoted to the word far outweighs the few mentions of the sacraments in the Pia Desideria.

In Spener’s era, it was not unusual for churches, especially in larger cities, to have daily services — sometimes even more than once a day. Given that most preachers constructed their sermon on or around a text, or even as a running exposition of a text, the reader might think that God’s Word was plentiful enough already.

But Spener goes on to note that even a daily sermon — or even a twice daily sermon — does not meet our spiritual needs, because the passive intake of the Word in a sermon is only one of several ways in which we can immerse ourselves in God’s Word. For spiritual health, it is necessary for people to actively and interactively explore God’s Word:

Nun sollte es zwar scheinen, daß das Wort Gottes reichlich genug unter uns wohnte, indem an unserschilichen Orten (und zwar auch in hiesiger Stadt) täglich, anderswo gleichwohl zum öfteren, von der Kanzel gepredigt wird, wo wir aber der Sache reiflich nachdenken, werden wir auch in diesem Stück vieles finden, das noch weiter nötig sei. Ich verwerfe die haltende Predigten durchaus nicht, da aus einem gewissen vorgelegten Text und dessen Erklärung die christliche Gemeinde unterrichtet werde, als der ich selbst dergleichen vortrage und verrichte. Aber ich finde nicht, daß dieses genug sei.

He goes on to recommend, in addition to sermons, other opportunities to read and discuss Scripture. Again, his recommendations will offer no novelties to those well-versed in church history.

Spener’s goal is to convince his reader that he is offering nothing new, but rather recalling the church to something of great value.

The Four Roots of the Missouri Synod: A Historical Synthesis

In 1847, an organization was formed. It would later be given the name “The Lutheran Church — Missouri Synod.” This is often shortened to “LC—MS” or simply “LCMS.” The original name was even more unwieldy: Die Deutsche Evangelische Lutherische Synode von Missouri, Ohio, und andern Staaten or “The German Evangelical Lutheran Synod of Missouri, Ohio and Other States.”

But the denomination’s history goes back well before 1847.

In the decades prior to the founding of the LCMS, several different groups of Lutherans immigrated to, and settled in, the United States. Most of these groups had a strong ethnic heritage. The groups involved in the LCMS were German. Other ethnic Lutheran groups included Norwegians, Swedes, Finns, and Danes; they founded other denominations. Among all these groups, the ethnic identity, fostered primarily through language, was strong, although there were instances of Americanization.

But ethnicity was not the strongest factor in defining these groups. Each had a vision of Lutheranism which shaped their communal faith practices.

Four groups eventually coalesced to form the Missouri Synod. There is some ambiguity in this narrative, because some of these groups were not clearly organizationally defined, but consisted rather of loose trends. Some historians simplify the narrative and speak of the LCMS as the merger of two major groups, with other individuals or small movements joining in under the umbrella of the two. Interpretations of the Synod’s founding are therefore somewhat debatable, but the narrative presented here is serviceable.

One of the four trends is confessionalism. The word ‘confessionalism’ here denotes the view that Lutheranism is definitively shaped by the teachings of the Book of Concord. This book, compiled in 1580, is a collection of texts which set forth the essential doctrines of Lutheranism. The confessionalists were concerned to retain the purity of doctrine. The Prussian monarchy, which ruled large areas of central Europe, had decided in 1817 to force a merger of Lutheran and Calvinist church bodies. This merger was unacceptable to the confessionalists, who saw that it compromised Lutheran teachings. Some of the confessionalists emigrated to America. A few came as individuals or families; others came in larger organized groups.

One particular group came from the area around the city of Chemnitz, including the small towns of Oberfrohna and Niederfrohna. This area is in the German region of Saxony. Martin Stephan organized and led this group in 1838-1839 to settle eventually in eastern Missouri. In late 1839, the group exiled Martin Stephan on charges of embezzlement and sexual misconduct. Carl Ferdinand Wilhelm Walther eventually emerged as the leader of these people in the wake of Stephan’s departure. They established a cluster of small villages not far from the Mississippi River.

Pietism was a second movement incorporated into the Missouri Synod. The term ‘pietism’ is used in a variety of ways; in church history, it refers to a trend in the 1600s and 1700s, and relevant to this narrative is Lutheran pietism. Not relevant is reformed or calvinist pietism, or forms of piety in later centuries. An influential preacher and author, Philipp Jacob Spener, shaped Lutheran pietism in several European nations. Spener’s most popular book, published in 1675, became a standard text within pietism.

Already at this point in the narrative, two groups have been identified: pietism and confessionalism. Even before examining two more groups who would be part of the founding of the LCMS, it is worth noting that there is a fair amount of overlap between these two movements. Many of the people involved in Martin Stephan’s 1838-1839 confessionalist Saxon Emigration were simultaneously influenced by pietism.

A third factor in the formation of the Missouri Synod was a movement of missionary activity. Beginning in the early 1840s, Wilhelm Löhe recruited and sent clergy to America. It had come to his attention that many German-speaking settlers in North America were unchurched and ignorant of their faith. Löhe’s trend broadened over the decades to include missionary work among the Native American Indians.

A final category of influences on the founding of the LCMS is vague yet significant. There were German-speaking immigrants who didn't fit neatly into any of the three categories already delineated, yet who became significant parts of the new church body. They were not especially confessionalistic or pietistic, and weren’t part of organized missionary movements. Many came to America looking for economic opportunities or political liberty. Yet they carried some manner of Lutheran identity with them. They desired churches and pastors for their towns, and schools for their children. They arrived in America over a series of decades, independently of each other, and not part of any organization. On average, they may have been financially more stable than the pietists, confessionalists, or missionaries.

The melding of these four groups into the LCMS ensured that the new church body would incorporate a variety of approaches to the faith. In some instances, this was synergy. In other instances, it led to conflict. Each of the four had its strengths and weaknesses. It is still possible today to detect the effects of each on the Synod.

The confessionalists left a legacy of strong attachment to clearly-stated and correct doctrine. The pietists contributed their desire for a personal vivid life-changing faith which manifests itself in daily conduct. Löhe’s emissaries emphasized outreach and evangelization. The fourth, uncategorized category, lent a communal impulse: the desire to establish villages and neighborhoods in which Lutheran churches and Lutheran schools were societal hubs.

Even if historians debate about the exact nature and number of the groups which joined together to build the LCMS, it is in any case clear that there was a diversity of approaches to the faith which made for a robust spiritual and communal life within the denomination.

Gathering in the Power of the Resurrection: Jesus Sends His People to Serve the World

God unveils His plans to help all human beings in a series of events which is spread out over centuries and millennia. Yet the focus of this world-historical process of salvation is contained in one brief span of time: the birth, life, teachings, actions, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

This magnificent undertaking, in which God rescues His world, is finalized in the ascent of Jesus and feast of Pentecost, and is a microcosm of the millennia-long global process of salvation.

Or, perhaps, the global process is a macrocosm of the life of Jesus: His time on earth writ large.

Either way, the three or four decades during which Jesus lived as a physical human being on earth are a hinge point, the inflection between the millennia before His incarnation and the millennia after His resurrection, as U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice describes:

Those who followed him would begin to act as if every life is worthy. The community of people called Christians would minister to the sick and disabled and build hospitals, pursue universal education, spread teaching through universities, and lift up the poor in faraway places, “for they would inherit the earth.”

Life with Jesus includes a balance between the individual and the corporate. Each person has her or his own unique and personal relationship with God. Yet the fullness of faith can be lived out only in community.

God calls people to unity, not to uniformity. Individuals retain their own distinctive qualities and make their own independent decisions, while being interdependent with their fellow disciples and fully dependent on God.

Rice chooses to continue the thought in the first person plural. God gathers people together. He turns a bunch of individuals into a “we” — following Jesus is a team sport, not an individual sport.

Nothing in our human existence has been quite the same since that fateful Sunday so long ago. We join Johann Sebastian Bach in saying (as he wrote at the beginning of his compositions), “God help me.” And we glory in the belief that our Lord answers. But we too often fail to say, as Bach did at the end of his magnificent works, “(Everything) To the Glory of God.”

While the individual retains her or his individuality, and while the community of disciples forms its own corporate self, direction ultimately comes from God.

Followers of Jesus pray for His guidance, and work to set aside their own notions. The task of the self is to set aside the self: not to annihilate the self, but rather to preserve it and to have it play a secondary role to God’s direction. Among Jesus followers, the desire of a leader is to point to God’s leadership. So Moses, a leader, prays to God, asking for His leadership and guidance:

In your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed. In your strength you will guide them. (Ex. 15:13)

A leader is an intermediary, a mediator, a priest: she or he speaks to God on the people’s behalf, and speaks to the people on God’s behalf:

When the people cried out to Moses, he prayed to the Lord. (Numbers 11:2)

Disciples refer to this setting aside of self as “dying to self,” a jarring metaphor which captures the demotion of one’s own priorities. To give away one’s time, attention, money, and energy is to give away one’s life. And to give away one’s life is to die.

Every hour spent shoveling snow for a physically disabled neighbor, every hour spent helping a child learn to read, every hour spent listening to a person in distress grieve, is an hour of one’s life that has been given away.

Shortly before his death in 2013, Byron Porisch was reading a book by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay. In that book, Byron marked passages which made precisely these same points:

Church is God’s people intentionally committing to die together so that others can find his kingdom. Just as God had given away his Son, he was now asking me to give my life away.

In that same book are phrases which point to God’s vision of how He desires to use community. Whichever word is used to label it, it’s not about the building of an institution. The end is too easily confused with the means. God gathers people in order to scatter them: He sends them out to build His kingdom.

It was interesting that in all His teaching, preaching and ministering Jesus never really talks about the Church and He did not establish or plant a church. All He talked about was the Kingdom.

The dialectic of gathering and scattering is the creative cycle in which God trains disciples and uses them to reach out to the rest of the world.

But God is not only about uniting and sending: He is also about reuniting. He is not only about assembling and then distributing: He is also about reassembling. This is why the word “reconciliation” is significant in the New Testament. God will bring together those things — those people — whom the world’s brokenness has separated. He will reconnect those people whom the forces of sin have disconnected:

There is hope for your future, declares the Lord, and your children shall come back to their own country. (Jeremiah 31:17)

Jesus works atonement and restoration. Those who’ve been revitalized by the power of Jesus gather together and yet do so for the purpose of reaching out to others. In the midst of all this creative energy, God restores broken relationships. The petition, “Thy kingdom come” refers to this healing dynamic.