Feisty Preus yields gavel to self-effacing Bohlmann.
The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod voted last month to break off intercommunion and exchange of ministers and members with the American Lutheran Church.
The action by the fifty-fourth regular assembly of the denomination—started by German immigrants to the midwest—followed the recommendation of its Commission on Theology and Church Relations that altar and pulpit fellowship be severed. It came 12 years after the ALC link was formed in 1969. That was the same assembly that elected conservative Jacob A. O. Preus president, ushering in a decade of intense sparring between conservatives and moderates. (The LCMS does not admit to having a liberal wing since it is the most conservative of the four major North American Lutheran denominations.)
Although theological discussions between the two denominations were held regularly over the 12-year period, differences were not narrowed; in fact, they increased. Those differences included the inerrancy of the Bible, what subscribing to the creeds entails, ordination of women, abortion, and membership in ecumenical organizations.
Lack of progress prompted the LCMS to move four years ago to a status of “fellowship in protest,” implying that if no significant progress were made, the altar and pulpit fellowship link should be broken. Two years ago, the biennial assembly voted to extend the protest status for two more years. But, as the Commission on Theology and Church Relations chairman noted, the synod could not drag on the fellowship in protest “interminably” and retain its integrity.
The resolution to cut the special tie was debated for two-and-a-half hours, with pro-and-con sentiment more or less evenly matched. When the vote came, it was close: 590 delegates voted for the break, 494 opposed it.
The near stand-off seemed to indicate weariness from the years of theological turmoil and confusion over the meaning of altar and pulpit fellowship. Such a relationship, according to LCMS staff (and in contrast to the ALC understanding), is the closest possible interdenominational tie, based on substantial doctrinal agreement. It has nothing, they stress, to do with basic Christian fellowship, or with theological dialogue.
This year’s assembly marked a changing of the guard in Missouri Synod leadership. Both president Preus and first vice-president Edwin C. Weber—in that position for eight years—had announced last fall their decisions not to seek reelection.
Centrist Ralph A. Bohlmann, president of Concordia Seminary in Saint Louis, led a slate of five candidates from the first of four ballots. Robert C. Sauer, a conservative aide to Preus for eight years, was eliminated on the first ballot. Gerhardt W. Hyatt, a bit to the left of center and president of Concordia College in Saint Paul, Minnesota, was eliminated on the second ballot. Hyatt spent most of his career as a military chaplain, and so is not well known throughout the synod.
At this point, moderate Charles S. Mueller, pastor of Trinity Church, Roselle, Illinois, was in second place, and conservative Walter A. Maier, Jr., theology professor at Concordia Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, was in third. Maier, son of the long-time “Lutheran Hour” speaker, is well known in LCMS circles. His prospects were clouded, however, by recent charges by Preus that he deviates from Lutheran belief on the matter of objective justification (CT, March 13, 1981, p. 56).
Maier was eliminated on the third ballot. Since delegates then transferred Maier’s entire block of votes to centrist Bohlmann rather than to the relatively liberal Mueller, Bohlmann was elected handily on the fourth ballot.
A white-haired 49, Bohlmann appears to fit the mood of his synod. He is polished, low-key, and steady in contrast to Preus’s bluff, hearty, shoot-from-the-hip style.
His doctrinal credentials are solid. He championed orthodox theology at Concordia in Saint Louis when the firing of liberal president John H. Tietjen in 1974 precipitated an exodus of about 40 faculty members and 600 students—and he became president soon afterward. He has built the school’s student body back up to 700.
Bohlmann also served over the entire 12-year span of the committee that held discussions with the American Lutheran Church. But he is expected to downplay confrontation and to shift to helping Missouri Synod Lutherans work through what their denominational distinctives mean in practice.
In his first press conference as president-elect (he will assume office in September), Bohlmann said he would move from the current “everything or nothing at all” fellowship and cooperation at the local level to more flexibility—making the level of fellowship and cooperation “commensurate with the level of agreement.”
The liberal and conservative wings of the synod dueled again over the first vice-presidency, with some of the same candidates dominating. Mueller led on the first ballot, since conservative votes were again split between Sauer and Maier. This time, however, Sauer took the lead on the second ballot as marginal candidates were eliminated, and he was elected on the third.
As Preus chaired his last convention, delegations passed a resolution citing, among other things, his “helping to maintain the LCMS as a solid confessional church body.” That he had certainly done, as evidenced by the showdown at the Saint Louis seminary—provoking an exodus of the synod’s more liberal-leaning churches.
The complexion of the denomination that remains is slightly weighted in favor of the conservatives, as demonstrated by the actions of this year’s convention. But only time will tell if the courtly scholar elected there can hold the line as effectively as the gutsy scrapper.
Evangelism
Knechtle Paces Comeback Of Open-Air Preaching
Evangelist Cliffe Knechtle can probably relate to the popular comic who says, “I just don’t get no respect.”
Knechtle just finished a year of preaching in the open air on more than 30 college campuses nationwide. He encountered fist-waving Jewish activisits in New York, mustard-slathered food thrown at his speaker’s podium in Florida, and a pie thrown by an Ivy Leaguer (it missed).
But rather than coming out depressed or paranoid, Knechtle was enthused. He says open-air evangelism proved to be a highly effective way to reach non-Christian students with a gospel message. And just as important in his eyes, the campus Christians themselves were encouraged to share their faith—and did so.
Christians should recognize again the effectiveness of open-air preaching, and not write it off as an archaic throwback to the John Wesley era, he feels.
Knechtle recently spent a week at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, in conjunction with evangelist Leighton Ford’s campaign there. Weather permitting, Knechtle preached outside to groups of from 10 to 100 on relevant student topics: stress, sex, success. Question and answer periods that followed—central to all Knechtle’s open-air meetings—sometimes lasted several hours. He also held nightly meetings in various dormitories. A singer helped draw a crowd, then Knechtle opened up with a message and the discussion periods.
Even skeptical Ball State students commented about Knechtle’s sincerity—his honesty in saying so, for instance, if he didn’t know the answer to a tough question. A Leighton Ford staff member observed, “Open-air preachers have been around for years, but Knechtle does it with intelligence.”
Knechtle, 27, an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship staff member who attends the First Baptist Church in Sudbury, Massachusetts, when he’s not traveling, goes only to campuses where Christian student groups have invited him. Organizers clear Knechtle’s activities with the school administration, and Christian students provide on-campus publicity. These steps lead to a campus awareness that “this is not just some guy coming in on his own and starting to wing it, but something that has been planned by the Christians on campus,” he says.
Knechtle relies heavily on the support of Christian students. He asks some to gather at the spot where he’s preaching—always a place with high student traffic. They create a crowd feel and thereby help attract other listeners. But they also intend to share their faith one-to-one with other listeners who have gathered, asking, as a springboard, for reactions to what Knechtle is saying.
Also, Knechtle asks these Christians beforehand to “break the ice” by asking a first question during the discussion period. For instance, at Wheaton (Massachusetts) College, an all-girls’ school, a Christian asked Knechtle to explain Paul’s view of women in the New Testament: an initial group of 5 students soon grew to 60, including some professors.
A time for questions is essential to open-air preaching, Knechtle says. This counteracts the stereotype of the “fire-and-brimstone preacher” who demands an immediate decision, or who seems to manipulate. A preacher should listen, not just talk, Knechtle believes, and he says students have told him they appreciate his vulnerability.
Listeners have made Christian commitments at the meetings. But Knechtle says the involvement and resultant strengthening of Christian students at the open-air meetings is nearly as important. Open airpreaching “breaks the sound barrier,” he says, by creating a setting for a one-to-one witness between persons in his audience.
What’s more, Knechtle says, “When the Christians begin hearing Christ called four-letter words … and the battle gets out into the open, closet Christians are forced to take a stand either with Christ or away from him.”
Knechtle also says there’s a confidence boost: “Christians who have been intimidated intellectually, psychologically, even physically, are beginning to see the gospel can stand in the marketplace, and that we don’t have to apologize intellectually for our faith in Christ.”
That the open-air meetings sometimes unite Christians was shown at Western Illinois University, where the IVCF chapter grew from 5 to 20 members after Knechtle’s time there.
Knechtle began to pray for preaching invitations several years ago while a student at Gordon-Conwell Seminary. When none came, he felt led to witness one-to-one and in bars in downtown Boston. Other seminarians later joined him in his bar-preaching outreach.
After Knechtle’s graduation from Gordon two years ago, IVCF invited him onto the staff as a campus evangelist. But after a time of speaking in student unions where “99.9 percent of the audience was Christian,” Knechtle thought there had to be a better way. He gave open-air preaching a test run a year ago during IVCF beach evangelism in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Since then, his open-air preaching opportunities have taken off.
But is open-air preaching too unsophisticated for the college crowd and other listeners? “Oh, that’s easy,” Knechtle said. “People are so sick and tired of the slick put-on, the super-shiny production. They want to see people who really believe in something enough to become vulnerable, who will stand up and have people take potshots at them, who will stand there and not respond in hatred or seek revenge, but in love, tell about Christ.”
PRESTON PARRISH AND JOHN MAUST
