The Loving Opposition

When i confront the issue of homosexuality, I do not immediately think of the theology of human sexuality, of Christian sexual ethics, or of matters of church order. To think about homosexuality is to think about people—people whom I have known as acquaintances and a few well enough to love.

I think of Tom, who begged me to help him regain his Christian faith and stop both his compulsive pursuit of anonymous sexual encounters and his seduction of teenage boys. Before I really had a chance to know him, Tom announced that he did not want to control himself any longer. He later wrote me in shocking and angry detail of his immersion into the rough leather world of the gay bathhouses and alleys of San Francisco. Tom is now dead of AIDS.

I think of Gail, a lesbian in a monogamous relationship, who speaks with passion of her Christian faith, but who worships a god who accepts and affirms the “god force” within us all. She argues that the true Christian faith does not get bogged down in repentance and forgiveness but is empowered by love of any kind. Gail felt her lesbianism should not entail a denial of her right to experience motherhood. She had several friends donate sperm so she could be artificially inseminated with no ties to a father. Gail gave birth to a baby whom she loves deeply.

I think of Fred, who was homosexually molested by an older brother as he was going through puberty. He subsequently threw himself for six long years into a highly promiscuous gay subculture. He experienced no attraction to women. When Christ claimed his life, he immediately forsook his homosexual behavior in simple obedience to what he perceived to be the call of God. After a couple of years of costly discipleship and growth, Fred felt called by God to marry Debbie, and she him, in full knowledge of his problem. Only toward the end of their engagement did he begin to experience any sexual attraction to her whatsoever. Now, after 14 years of marriage, much prayer and counseling, Fred feels almost completely healed of his homosexual inclinations. He feels that the heart of his homosexual struggle was a desperate longing for the love and affirmation of his father and a deep insecurity about his own manhood.

I think of Peter, who began experimenting with homosexuality at a seventh-grade Bible camp. This early experience confirmed his suspicion that he was different. His high-school and college years were filled with furtive homosexual experiences followed by agonized repentance, prayer, and weeks or months of trying to deny his homosexual feelings. He married Denise at the end of college, never telling her of his homosexual feelings. He secretly hoped the sexual experiences of marriage would cause his homosexual attractions to go away. Fifteen years later, when Denise discovered evidence of his homosexual affairs, both of their lives blew apart. Peter is now living in the gay community, feeling that he made every possible effort to change and that his calling now is to live as a gay Christian man in a monogamous relationship, though he has yet to achieve such a relationship and no longer attends a church. Denise is consumed with rage and feels utterly betrayed.

I also think of Mark, a single Christian businessman. He has known of his homosexual inclinations ever since he has been aware of any sexual feelings whatsoever. In his mid-twenties, Mark sporadically acted out his homosexual feelings in adult bookstores and public washrooms. He looks back on these experiences with a mixture of shame, revulsion, and lust. The depth of Mark’s commitment to Christ and to costly discipleship is staggering. Mark has not acted on his homosexual wishes for over 15 years. But his pain is enormous. He oftentimes feels that he lives a twilight existence in the church—a church that does not know how to relate to single people, that acts in revulsion to the very idea of someone being homosexual, a church where he is pestered repeatedly as to why he does not marry, a church in which he longs for intimate fellowship but in which the opportunities for honesty are few and far between.

These are the faces before me as I write of a Christian response to homosexuality. And these are the faces we need to remember as we ask, Why do Christians think homosexual acts are wrong? Why is it an important issue? And what are we to do?

WHY ARE HOMOSEXUAL ACTS WRONG?

When asked why they think homosexual behavior is wrong, many Christians reply simply, “Because the Bible says it is!” The Bible does indeed condemn homosexual acts every time they are mentioned. But many Christians are unprepared for the revisionists’ arguments for rejecting all the major biblical texts as either irrelevant or misunderstood.

This is a thumbnail sketch of what one will hear from critics of the traditional view:

They argue that Leviticus 18:22; 20:13, and Deuteronomy 23:18, which condemn male homosexual behavior, are irrelevant because they do not address today’s homosexual lifestyles, These passages occur in the midst of a discussion of God’s disapproval of the fertility cults in the pagan communities surrounding the Israelites. The only kind of homosexual behavior the Israelites knew, it is argued, was homosexual prostitution in pagan temples. That is what is being rejected here and not the loving monogamous gay relationship of persons of homosexual orientation today.

The Genesis 19 story of Sodom and Gomorrah is alleged to be irrelevant because it is a story of attempted gang rape, which was an indicator of the general wickedness of the city. The homosexual nature of the gang rape is seen as an irrelevant detail of the story.

Romans 1 is often reduced to being a condemnation solely of heterosexual people who engage in homosexual acts. They rebel against God by engaging in what is unnatural to them. This passage has no relevance today, it is argued, because modern homosexuals are doing what is natural to them and thus not rebelling against God.

In 1 Corinthians 6:9 and 1 Timothy 1:10, the Greek words that are often translated as referring to homosexual practices are said to be unclear and probably describe and forbid only pederasty, the sexual possession of an adolescent boy by an older adult man of the elite social classes.

Some of these criticisms have an element of legitimacy, but most evangelical biblical scholars concur that every one of them goes too far. The critics are right, for instance, in dismissing the view that homosexual preoccupation was the most heinous sin of Sodom and Gomorrah. Ezekiel 16:49–50 says,” Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me. Therefore I did away with them” (NIV). Materialistic America in general, and not just the gay community in particular, is uncomfortably similar to this description of Sodom’s sins. We are quick to condemn those we are uncomfortable with but slow to judge ourselves.

But Leviticus, Romans, 1 Corinthians, and 1 Timothy are relevant and binding. Archaeological studies confirm that the ancient world knew of homosexual desire and practice, even if the concept of a psychological orientation was not present. Thus it is striking that every time homosexual practice is mentioned in the Scriptures, it is condemned. There are only two ways one can neutralize the biblical witness against homosexual behavior: by gross misinterpretation or by moving away from a high view of Scripture.

Important as they are, these passages are not the cornerstone of the Christian stance that homosexual action is immoral. The core of Scripture’s negative assessment of homosexual practice is the positive biblical vision of sexuality—which applies equally to homosexual persons and to heterosexual, men and women, adults and children.

To have a truly Christian view of our own sexuality, we must understand the four great acts in God’s drama, the epic poem of God’s saving work. We destroy our understanding of the script if we mix up the order of the acts.

Act 1 is Creation. If we do not understand ourselves first as divine handiwork, created in God’s image, everything else will be distorted.

Act 2 is the Fall, the reality of which much contemporary liberal scholarship denies. The Fall twists and ruins everything but does not destroy the imprint of Creation.

Act 3 is Redemption in and through Christ. Christ is at work in those who love him, redeeming them and the world.

The final act is Glorification, the expected final consummation, the blessed hope.

The Christian view of sexuality must be understood within this biblical drama. For instance, in 1 Timothy 4:1–5 Paul deals with the sexual views of a protognostic group whose teachings denied Creation, exaggerated the Fall, and distorted the proper view of Redemption. In particular, they despised marriage because they saw sex as evil.

To this, Paul said: “The Spirit clearly says that in later times some will abandon the faith and follow deceiving spirits and things taught by demons. Such teachings come through hypocritical liars, whose consciences have been seared as with a hot iron. They forbid people to marry and order them to abstain from certain food, which God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and who know the truth. For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.”

From this we can get Paul’s understanding of marriage and sex. Paul’s grounding is that God created marriage and sex. Everything God created is good (Act 1). But notice that what God created to be good has to be cleaned off; it has been dropped in the mud—that is, the Fall (Act 2). Through Christ, sex can be redeemed (that is what consecration means) by being received with thanksgiving through “the word of God and prayer” (Act 3). We must start with Creation, recognize the Fall, and participate in Redemption.

The heart of Christian sexual morality is this: God made sexual union for a purpose—the uniting of husband and wife into one flesh in marriage. God uses sexual intercourse, full sexual intimacy, to weld two people together (1 Cor. 6:16). God has a big purpose in mind for sex because he has a big purpose for marriage—something bigger than simply a means for us to get our sexual needs met, have fun, have kids, and not have to be lonely.

In Ephesians 5 we learn more of what this bigger purpose is. According to Paul, marriage is to model concretely here on earth what God wants in the relationship between Christ and his bride, the church. Jesus is one with the Father, and he tells us that we can be one with him. We are utterly different from God, but he wants to unite with us (1 Cor. 6:17). This reality can be uniquely modeled on earth through the union of two different kinds of human beings, male and female. Marriage is a living parable, a concrete symbol, that models for the world the mystical union of Christ and his people. According to God’s original design, marriages have grand, even cosmic, meaning. And this meaning remains regardless of how pathetically short we fall of that grand design.

Interestingly, the scientific evidence supports this. If it is God’s intent that sexual intercourse is to bond two people together for life in marriage, what would we expect the effect of premarital sex and cohabitation to be? Those actions should make marriage less likely to work. And that is what the facts show (especially in a recent study reported by Andrew Greeley in his book Faithful Attraction). The more premarital sex people have, the more likely they are to have affairs in marriage; the less likely they are to have optimal sexual relationships in marriage; and the less likely they are to be satisfied with their marriages. Numerous studies over decades have shown that people who cohabit before marriage are more likely to divorce. All of the ways we humans foul up God’s design have long-term negative consequences.

If marriage occupies this place in God’s plan, and if sex is so important to God’s plan for marriage, we can see the vital importance of obedience to God’s standards for sexuality. Sex is a gift, but it is a gift we can abuse. God’s intent is that sex be used rightly inside and outside of marriage. Inside of marriage, its proper use is for pleasure, procreation, and as something to be shared lovingly and with gratitude to build up the unity of the couple. Outside of the marriage of a man and woman, the proper use of sex is to honor God by costly obedience in living a chaste life. Through this difficult commitment, we learn to value obedience over gratification and to serve God instead of serving our own lusts. Heterosexual or homosexual, the call of Christ is the same: if you find yourself unmarried, God wants you to live a chaste life.

But isn’t this unfair to the homosexual person? The heterosexual single at least has the chance of marriage. The person with homosexual longings has no such chance. He did not choose to have the feelings and inclinations he does. Is it fair to Mark to argue that God is calling him to a life of chaste singleness? Is it fair to Gail to suggest that God would have her forgo motherhood because she is not married?

First, let us acknowledge that few people choose to have homosexual inclinations. The evidence suggests that genetic factors, possibly operative through brain differences, may give some a push in the direction of homosexual preference. Disordered family relationships that leave people confused at a deep level about their sexual identity seem also to play a major role. In addition, early homosexual experiences of seduction or abuse may play a role as the stories of Fred and Peter illustrated earlier. And many lesbians, especially, seem to have been the targets of sexual abuse by men earlier in life, leaving them with deeply impaired abilities to trust or feel close to men later.

But the existence of inclinations, orientations, or preferences have little to do with God’s moral call upon our lives. Social science is finding many powerful factors that shape character and influence morally laden choices. Alcoholism, anxiety-proneness, ill-temperedness, and even the propensity to violence are made more likely by the presence of genetic and family variables. Is it unfair, then, for God to hold up sobriety and moderation, trust and faith, self-control and patience, restraint and respect, as moral values?

No, because God is the Maker, the one who sets the design. And though God is perfectly just, he never promised to be fair by human standards. We are saved by grace, but in the race that Paul talks about—the race to press on to the high calling of Christ—some of us start further back in the pack than others, further back from the ideal. But that does not make the goals that God ordains illegitimate or nonbinding.

While one ideal, heterosexual marriage, is not an option for the homosexual Christian without a large dose of divine healing, the other ideal, chaste singleness, is open and accessible. And that ideal of chaste singleness holds out the possibility for true integrity and beauty, as the models of Jesus himself, Paul, and many other saints show. The fact that such chastity is difficult for homosexual persons is of little moral consequence, as it is also difficult for heterosexuals. The difficulty should be dealt with pastorally, not by changing the moral standard.

And so, the Christian vision for sexuality and marriage is our foundational reason for rejecting homosexual action as a legitimate moral option. A warning, though: many gay Christians will simply deny that this is the binding Christian view. Many advocates of a liberalization of the church’s ethical stance suggest that the only element of the Bible or of the Christian tradition that is binding upon all people is the general call to manifest in any relationship the kinds of loving characteristics that are described as being important in marriage—sacrificial love, honesty, and so forth. Gay relationships, it is argued, can do this as well as straight.

The first problem with this argument is that it does not truthfully reflect the Christian tradition. It is ultimately irrelevant whether or not homosexual couples can be just as loving, faithful, or monogamous as heterosexual couples. God has a distinctive purpose for sex and for marriage, a purpose that necessitates a heterosexual union.

Second, the revisionist’s argument simply does not match reality. For example, male homosexuality tends to be strongly associated with promiscuity: The famous Bell and Weinberg study (Homosexualities) suggested that about a third of gays have had over 1,000 sexual partners in their lifetimes. Very few gays are in committed, long-term relationships; Bell and Weinberg found that less than 10 percent of gays are in such relationships. Those who are in stable relationships do not tend to be sexually monogamous. McWhirter and Mattison (The Gay Couple) found that 0 percent of the 100 stable male couples they studied were sexually monogamous after being together for five years. The authors of that study, themselves a gay couple, said that to be gay is to be nonmonogamous, and that monogamy is an unnatural state that some gay men attempt because of their internalized homophobia; so when you finally grow to accept your own gayness, you shed monogamy like a butterfly sheds a cocoon.

It may be that the homosexual community cannot embrace monogamy because homosexual sex can never produce what God made sex for. They turn instead to promiscuity and perversions to create sexual highs. The gay community calls these perversions “high-tech sex.” Many know of oral and anal sex, but fewer know of commonly, though not universally, practiced activities such as sadomasochistic practices of inflicting pain on a partner during sex, group sex of all kinds, and more extreme distortions. When sex outside of God’s will does not do what God made it to do, many people, gay and straight, search for some way to make sex deliver an ever bigger electric charge, the elusive ultimate orgasm, that can somehow make up for the absence of what sex was meant to create: unity.

In summary, persons of homosexual inclination are under the same moral call as we all are—to respond to the offer of divine mercy and forgiveness through the gift of Jesus Christ, to offer our lives as the only gift we can give in return. If we love him, we will obey his commands. And his will with regard to our sexuality is either that we live chaste lives of dependence upon him, or that we strive to build a marriage that models Christ’s love for the church before the watching world, aided by the uniting gift of sexual intercourse. All of us should strive anew to live by this holy standard.

Ed Dobson Loves Homosexuals

Fighting for morality has always been a tricky business. Slavery, alcohol abuse, racial prejudice, and abortion: each has polarized America, has provoked violence—in one case, has even brought on a civil war. Today, homosexuality arouses the same hot level of feeling.

We cannot avoid intense passions regarding homosexuality, but evangelical Christians have to keep their balance on three levels. First, we want to love sinners while hating their sins—never easy. Second, we want to distinguish between homosexual behavior, which is chosen, and homosexual desire, which is not—while the gay movement insists they are equivalent. And, third, we want to oppose the gay movement’s political aim of normalizing homosexuality—without stigmatizing the people involved or painting their relationships as subhuman.

These balancing acts are made harder by a history of prejudice and hate toward homosexuals and by the militancy of a gay movement that takes anything less than approval as homophobia. As the political temperature rises, love, compassion, and evangelism seem impossible. It is like the age-old pacifist’s question: Can you really love your neighbor while putting a bullet through his heart?

Ed Dobson, pastor of Calvary Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, is trying to stop the bullets. A leader in the Moral Majority during the eighties, Dobson concluded that trying to save America politically was futile. The most important battles, he recently told CT’s sister publication LEADERSHIP journal, involve renewing the church. He illustrated his point by telling how his church became involved in a ministry to people with AIDS.

“I began by calling the national hotline on AIDS and asking how I could become involved. They referred me to a secular agency in our city that is basically run by the homosexual community.” As if that weren’t enough, the local agency referred him to the pastor of the local Metropolitan Community Church—a progay denomination.

But Dobson was not stopped. He called the pastor and offered to meet at either office. “Let’s meet at your church,” the pastor replied. “I’ve always wanted to walk in there.”

When they met, Dobson suggested that they both understood the other’s position on sexuality: why not focus on how his church could help deal with AIDS? That began a three-year involvement. Dobson says it has opened positive communication between his church and the gay community without any sense of moral compromise. A gay radio talk-show host introduced Dobson by saying, “Our guest does not believe what we believe on issues of sexuality. But I’ve invited him to appear because there are many people suffering with AIDS who attend his Saturday night services. While his congregation disagrees with us on sexuality issues, they love people and stand with us on the AIDS issue.”

Convincing Dobson’s conservative congregation was not easy. He received letters worrying that the church would be overrun with gays. “I decided to respond to these concerns on a Sunday morning,” Dobson told LEADERSHIP. “I said, ‘If the church gets overrun with homosexuals, that will be terrific. They can take their place in the pews right next to the liars, gossips, materialists, and all the rest of us who entertain sin in our lives.’ “He concluded by saying, “When I die, if someone stands up and says, ‘Ed Dobson loved homosexuals,’ then I will have accomplished something with my life.’ ” Openly gay people began attending Dobson’s church, knowing full well its beliefs about sexual morality. “I see the Spirit of God working in their lives, and I’m confident he will convict them of the truth,” Dobson says.

To develop that kind of rapport, however, required some changes. “The first lesson we learned is that to demonstrate Christ’s love to the gay community you have to drop all pejorative, gay-bashing language from your vocabulary.… The next thing we learned is that we had to quit applying a double standard to new believers. If a new convert leaves a life of drug addiction, but six months later falls back into the habit, we usually demonstrate patience and understanding. But when it comes to homosexual behavior, if someone reverts to that lifestyle after conversion, we often show little grace. When we confuse the choices a person makes with the person himself, we can end up making the mistake of hating them both.”

By Tim Stafford.

WHY IS THE ISSUE IMPORTANT?

Homosexual acts are like every other sin: They violate God’s express will and distort God’s creational design. Just as much fire from our pulpits should be aimed against greed, pride, racism, lack of compassion, and spiritual lukewarmness as against homosexual behavior. The best estimates today suggest that 1 to 3 percent of the population engage in homosexual acts (not the 10 percent that badly biased research once suggested). In this light, why should homosexuality be a special concern for the church?

There are three reasons why this issue is important, and none of them has anything to do with homosexual people being especially bad or disgusting.

First, the church’s historically high view of the authority of Scripture is threatened by efforts at revising the church’s position on homosexuality. As was argued earlier, the only way to neutralize the biblical witness against homosexual behavior is either grossly to misrepresent the Bible or to undermine its authority. The apologists for the “gay Christian” movement tend to do both.

While claiming to be staunchly within the Christian tradition, revisionists terribly distort biblical sexual ethics. In his book Come Home! Reclaiming Spirituality and Community as Gay Men and Lesbians, Presbyterian minister Chris Glasser says that fidelity does not mean being sexually exclusive and monogamous; fidelity really means only keeping your promises. So if a gay Christian companion promises to have only five other lovers per year, he is being faithful if he stays within those limits.

Episcopal biblical scholar William Countryman, in his book Dirt, Greed, and Sex, adopts a biblical theology that allows for homosexual practice, but he at least has the courage to admit that his method of interpretation also makes prostitution and sex with animals legitimate options for Christians (as long as such acts are done in love).

In her book Touching Our Strength, Carter Heyward, an Episcopal ethicist, suggests that heterosexual marriage enslaves women. She calls instead for loving sexual friendships; and there is no reason to limit these life-giving “godding” relationships to only one person or to one sex.

The majority group of the Presbyterian Special Committee on Sexuality, which authored Presbyterians and Human Sexuality, 1991, claimed that God’s Word to us is those parts within the Bible that are just and loving, that liberate people and make them more satisfied and fulfilled; the rest is simply not God’s Word. Therefore, since the prohibition against sex outside of marriage oppresses and frustrates single people and denies their sexual rights, the committee argued, then this could not be God’s Word.

The second reason why homosexuality is an important issue is that what the Bible treats as an isolated act to be condemned (namely, people of the same gender having sex), our society treats as a fundamental element of personal identity. In this view, the people I described at the beginning are not people who engaged in certain acts or who have certain inclinations. Rather, they are homosexuals—gays and lesbians. Their sexual inclinations define most deeply who they are. If a sexual desire defines a person, then acting on that desire is essential to personhood. If we buy this logic, then to suggest that God does not want them to engage in homosexual acts is to insult their innermost beings.

The Christian response is to deny the legitimacy of defining a person by his or her sexual desires—or by any other fallen element of one’s nature. In Christ, our identities are based on our status as God’s adopted children. This is the foundation for understanding who we most truly are.

Paul teaches in Romans 6:16 that we do not just find or discover ourselves; rather, we build a moral and personal momentum by the choices we make. We are either becoming more a slave to sin or a greater slave to Christ. If what you mean by saying you are a homosexual is that you experience homosexual desire, that is reality. If what you mean by saying you are a homosexual is that your identity is defined by your gayness and that living out those sexual leanings is essential to your very nature, then your identity is misplaced; you are trying to build an identity on shifting sand.

It is for this reason that Christians must continue to strive to love the sinner but hate the sin, even though this saying drives the gay Christian community crazy. We can say and strive for this because we refuse to make homosexual behavior or preference the core of anyone’s identity.

The third reason this issue is vital today is that there is unrelenting pressure on the church to change its historic stance. The revisionists present it as a simple issue: The church has evolved in rejecting slavery, racism, and sexism, and now it is time to stop its most deeply entrenched bigotry—homohatred, heterosexism, and homophobia.

But again we encounter a problem: We can only change our position on homosexuality by changing our fundamental stance on biblical authority, by changing our core view of sexuality, and by changing the meaning and character of Christ’s call on our lives. The first two have already been addressed above; but we need to say more about the nature of Christ’s call on our lives.

Christ is our perfect model of love and compassion, and we have much to learn from his love for sinners and participation in their lives. But he did not just ooze warm fuzzies; Christ also had the gall to tell others how to live their lives, to insist that his truth was the only truth, and to claim that he alone was the way to God. In short, Jesus was what many people today would call a narrow-minded bigot.

And we, the church, have been entrusted with proclaiming the message that we have received from him. When we do, we risk being called rigid and narrow-minded. We must face the reality that Christianity “discriminates.” It says one path is the right way. Christians make a ridiculous set of claims: that an omnipotent God bothered to create and love us; that he let us and our forebears spit in his face in rebellion; that he chose a peculiar and unsavory primitive tribe to be his conduit for blessing; that he actually revealed what he wanted these people to believe and how they were to live; and that this God actually became a person and died for us to conquer sin and death on our behalf. That is a most unlikely story! But Christians are supposed to spread the news that this is the story, the only true story.

The church has, in each generation, been faced with new challenges, which are really new twists on old issues. The current movement to see gay persons as a social group that must be loved and accepted as they are is the latest form of an old challenge—the challenge to diminish the authority of God’s revelation, to understand people on their own terms rather than by God’s view of them, and fundamentally to amend the nature of Christ’s call to take up our crosses and follow him.

WHAT ARE WE TO DO?

In this difficult time, there are two things that we must do. They are two things that do not naturally go together. We must exhibit the very love and compassion of Jesus Christ himself. And we must fearlessly proclaim the truth that Jesus Christ himself proclaimed and embodied.

The key to compassion is to see ourselves in another, to see our common humanity. This is what many of us cannot or will not do. A certain degree of natural revulsion to homosexual acts per se is natural for heterosexuals. All of us should be thankful that there are at least some sinful actions to which we are not naturally drawn. But a revulsion to an act is not the same as a revulsion to a person. If you cannot empathize with a homosexual person because of your fear of, or revulsion to, them, then you are failing our Lord. You are guilty of pride, fear, or arrogance. And if you are causing others to stumble, you are tying a millstone around your own neck.

The homosexual people I know are very much like me. They want love, respect, acceptance, companionship, significance, forgiveness. But, like all of us sinners, they choose the wrong means to get what they want.

We, the church, have the opportunity to demonstrate, in our words and in our lives, God’s love for the homosexual person. If we truly love, we will act on that love. We must start by eradicating our negative responses to homosexual people. Stop the queer jokes and insults; they hurt others. We must deal with our own emotional reactions; we must decide to love. We must repudiate violence and intolerance toward persons of homosexual orientation. We must change the church so that it is a place where those who feel homosexual desire can be welcomed. The church must become a sanctuary where repentant men and women can share with others the sexual desires they feel and still receive prayerful support and acceptance.

Are you willing to pray with, eat with, hug and comfort, share life with a woman or a man who has homosexual feelings? Frequently, we already do but do not know it. Just as we share meals with gluttons, shop with the greedy, share compliments with the vain, and vegetate with the slothful—and as others share life with us without knowing our hidden sins—so we share life, knowingly or unknowingly, with the homosexual. But we need to do so knowingly and lovingly.

Now the second part of our call—to speak the truth. If we truly love, we will not shrink from speaking God’s view of homosexual behavior. Do not be deceived: increasingly today we are defined as unloving solely for viewing homosexuality as immoral, regardless of the compassion we exhibit. Nevertheless, we must strive to be loving when we voice our opposition. Compassion in no way entails an acceptance of the gay lifestyle any more than it entails affirming an adulterer’s infidelity.

As people of homosexual inclination follow our Lord down the narrow road, they can pray and hope for healing. There are two prevalent distortions about healing today. The first is the conservative Christian myth that a quick, sincere repentance and prayer for healing will instantly change the person. Thankfully, few spread this damaging myth today.

The more prevalent myth is that there is no hope for healing. Anyone who says there is no hope is either ignorant or a liar. Every secular study of change has shown some success rate, and persons who testify to substantial healing by God are legion. There is hope for substantial change for some in this life.

But while our ultimate hope is secure, we do not have certainty about how much healing and change is possible for any particular homosexual person. Some will never be healed in this life. We need to balance a Christian triumphalism with a theology of suffering, a recognition that we are a hurting and beaten-down race. We must not believe the world when it tells us there is an easy answer to everything, even when the speaker is a Christian. There is dignity and purpose in suffering. The Christian homosexual’s witness is not invalidated by pain and difficulty; Christians trust that there is always a deeper purpose in suffering.

Mark, my Christian brother who still longs for healing while he lives a celibate life, and many like him, needs to be assured by the church of the meaningfulness of his pilgrimage. We need to remember that Christians witness to their faith not just in their strength and triumph, but also in their brokenness. We can be Christlike in how we bear our sufferings. We all want to be triumphant ambassadors for Christ, but few of us are. Our homosexual brothers and sisters who follow our Lord in costly discipleship have much to teach all of God’s people.

While challenges are nothing new for God’s body on earth, they are nonetheless real challenges. This is an important moment for the church, with many denominations and institutions debating whether to change the church’s traditional teaching on homosexuality. Those of us involved in the debate must remember that we can fail in two directions.

First, we can fail by compromising (and thus undermining) God’s authoritative Word, rejecting God’s view of sexuality, and embracing a human-centered notion of costless acceptance. The challenge here is to resist the pressure and courageously articulate God’s truth regarding sexuality.

Second, we can fail by saying the right things but in the wrong way. Too many Christians have let hate slip into their rhetoric on this issue. The challenge here is to be the loving opposition, to imitate our Lord, who chases down his sinful creatures with aggressively open arms while all the while saying no to our sins. We all need to repent of our arrogant and intolerant attitudes toward those whose struggles are different from ours. Our goal must be to become a community that embodies the welcoming grace and love of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Loren Wilkinson is the writer/editor of Earthkeeping in the ’90s (Eerdmans) and the coauthor, with his wife, Mary Ruth Wilkinson, of Caring for Creation in Your Own Backyard (Servant). He teaches at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Ideas

Two Men Don’t Make a Right

Two Men Don’T Make A Right

America’s homosexuals earn good incomes and exercise political clout. Why do they want to be treated as an oppressed minority?

Some gay-rights activists think there is a helpful analogy between the experiences of gays and blacks as oppressed minorities. Thus they are following a “civil rights” strategy for promoting acceptance of homosexuality.

Responds Kay Coles James of the Washington D.C.—based Family Research Council: “I have known former homosexuals, but never any former African-Americans.” James, an African-American, does not see anything helpful about comparing the two “minority groups.” She cites Gen. Colin Powell who called the comparison “convenient but invalid.”

Civil-rights legislation is a way of guaranteeing certain freedoms. But those freedoms often have a cost: Campaigns designed to help people be treated like everyone else have a way of backfiring. Instead of blending in, minorities are marked as “different,” frozen in a victim mentality, and fixed in a permanent posture of supplication. Will homosexuals really want to pay that price?

Strangely, part of the answer came recently from Andrew Sullivan, the openly gay editor of the New Republic. In a special section of that magazine, Sullivan and other gay writers called for an abandonment of the civil-rights approach. Sullivan faulted the civil-rights strategy because it is based on two faulty assumptions: “that sexuality is equivalent to race in terms of discrimination, and that full equality of homosexuals can be accomplished by designating gay people as victims.”

Sullivan, the gay, white male, is as quick to point out the differences between race and sexual orientation as is James, the straight, black female. “Unlike blacks three decades ago,” writes Sullivan, “gay men and lesbians suffer no discernible communal economic deprivation and already operate at the highest levels of society.…” Jonathan Rauch argues in the same issue of the New Republic that homosexuals are not oppressed in any objective sense: they are better educated than the general population, have higher-than-average incomes, and exercise political clout. Those are hardly marks of an oppressed minority.

Sullivan notes additionally that no “cumulative effect of deprivation” takes place with homosexuals, comparable to the “gradual immiseration” of an ethnic group, because each generation of homosexuals begins its experience afresh in heterosexual families.

Liberals should not use the law to try to regulate private employment and housing practices, Sullivan argues, largely because such efforts miss the point. The point, for Sullivan, is not economic security but “emotional and interpersonal dignity.” He writes that anti-discrimination laws “cannot reach far enough to tackle this issue; it is one that can only be addressed person by person, life by life, heart by heart.”

In a discussion of gay rights, we did not expect to agree with the New Republic; but, on this point, we could not agree more. While we believe private employers and landlords should not discriminate merely on the basis of sexual orientation alone, trying to regulate private actions by law is likely to backfire.

The civil-rights approach is bound to perpetuate a sense of homosexual identity as the Vulnerable Victim, setting up, in Sullivan’s words, “a psychological dynamic of supplication that too often only perpetuates cycles of inadequacy and self-doubt.”

After that agreement, however, we part company with Sullivan. His solution is to focus on equality only in the public, civil sphere, thus advocating “equality” of opportunity in such areas as the military and “marriage.” He believes that starting with positive experiences in these areas, the witness of individual lives will change culture as no legislation can.

At base, we must reject the civil-rights approach to gaining gay acceptance, not just because it locks homosexuals into a victim identity, but, more fundamentally, because it locks them into a homosexual identity. Most Christians now understand that same-sex attraction is seldom chosen by the 1 or 2 percent who experience it. It may be environmentally or biologically based. But the fact that the attraction is usually not volitional does not drive us to endorse it. Instead, we are compelled to support those who want to struggle against those urges, to help them find help, and eventually to move beyond their identity as homosexuals or even ex-homosexuals.

Sullivan and others write of sexuality as if it is the most fundamental thing about us as human beings. For example, Sullivan discusses gay “marriage” primarily in terms of emotional life and refers to sexual attachments as “the deepest desires of the human heart.” Surely this is part of the reductionist modern lie about life. While our hormones are often more powerful than we suspect, what is most profoundly true about us is surely not bound tightly to our sexual attractions or our romantic attachments. Life is bigger than that. Saints, official and unrecognized, have shown that by choosing the discipline of celibacy, they can achieve greater things for God and humankind.

For any of us to claim that the meaning of life is primarily about sexuality is a cruel narrowing of vision. For those who are part of a small and stigmatized minority to be told that their lives are ultimately about their sexuality is far worse. Enshrining gay identity in civil-rights legislation does not bring freedom, but bondage. True freedom is found in growing toward what God, not biology, calls us to be.

By David Neff.

Can Media ‘Get’ Religion?

Members of the evangelical community have been among the harshest critics of the secular news media. What credibility the press had with them was further hurt this February when a Washington Post reporter blamed public opposition to the Clinton administration’s proposal to lift a ban on gays in the military on an “orchestrated” campaign by leaders of the “religious right.” In a sentence for which the Post later apologized, the reporter wrote: “Their followers are largely poor, uneducated and easy to command.”

Four years ago the Religious News Service surveyed religion reporting in the daily press and readers’ reactions to religion coverage. Those surveyed, representing a wide range of congregations, wanted their newspapers to give more attention to religion than to entertainment, sports, arts, or personal advice. But rather than just desiring more local church coverage, they said the most important aspect they would like covered is religion’s role in shaping social and ethical positions. They also thought the attention actually given to religion is dismal.

But editors apparently have not learned the importance of religion in readers’ lives or that journalists should seek to understand faith and the positions it moves people to take. Instead, even when religion gets space, it continues to be covered not as faith, or even as sincerely held values, but as conflict between competing interests. Some journalists cover religious issues in terms of a tension between church and state. Or coverage may be framed as a contest between an old-fashioned notion of absolute values and modern, open-minded civil libertarian philosophy.

Blind spots

Why is the press at such a disadvantage when reporting on faith and values? In some cases, the answer is the journalists’ own backgrounds. The profession attracts people who question what they are told; not surprisingly, they are people largely outside churches and creeds. One study in the past decade showed only 8 percent of people in the news media attend church or synagogue regularly, 86 percent seldom or never.

Part of the answer may also be the professional codes of journalism. Trained to be “detached” and “objective,” journalists adhere to the notion that a visible philosophy (or theology) is incompatible with their profession. Thus, they may be suspicious of (and largely ignorant about) the values behind positions on social issues. In framing their stories, they commonly fall back on convenient criteria of “conflict.”

Recent social science research, reported in the 1992 book Common Knowledge: News and the Construction of Political Meaning, shows that, indeed, the news media do frame events differently than would the general public. For example, people representing a news “audience” described 15 percent of stories in terms of a “moral” frame; the news media used moral frames for only 4 percent of the same stories. By comparison, “conflict” was only 6 percent of audience frames, but 29 percent of media frames.

The failure of the secular press to deal with things moral has repercussions, severely limiting our national discourse on social issues. In 1991 David Shaw, media reporter for the Los Angeles Times, wrote a four-part series that was highly critical of coverage of abortion issues. Shaw concluded the series with a quote from Boston Globe reporter Eileen McNamara: “At base abortion isn’t about politics, and it isn’t about the law. It’s about philosophy and it’s about morality and it’s about your world view, and newspapers are ill-equipped to deal with those issues.”

Evangelicals can and should explore ways to help their friends in the secular press better understand religious issues and religious thinking. They might hope that journalists would be particularly sensitive to positions with which they have little natural affinity—and would seek to understand the moral arguments of people on each side of an issue. Then perhaps all of the parties involved could feel that they could get a fair hearing.

By Marshall N. Surratt, a former seminarian, who teaches journalism at the University of North Texas. Previously he was a newspaper reporter and editor.

Manhattan’s Cloud of Witnesses

One bright autumn Sunday morning, I got up early to do a walking tour on my own of sites in lower Manhattan associated with Phoebe Palmer, the mother of holiness revivalism. I was hoping to visit the haunts of that remarkable woman of a century ago, whose impact on charismatic and Pentecostal revivalism has far outlasted her influence on Methodism.

I planned to end my walk at a yet-undecided church service. I knew intuitively that the Spirit would show me some fitting place to glorify God.

Manhattan is not religiously lifeless. It has a vital Catholic population, with ethnic churches everywhere. And the woman who in her time influenced the elections of Methodist bishops, Christian higher education, and women’s public roles is still expressing her influence through numerous small holiness fellowships in the Lower East Side.

I took off carrying rough notes for my probable trajectory: first the Pine street synagogue, which had once been a Methodist church. As three strangers got off the subway, I discovered that one of them was the person who had told me about this oldest Methodist church building in New York. He corrected me: not Pine, but Pitt Street near Broome. So I headed north.

I was looking for whatever remained of the Five Points Mission that Palmer was instrumental in beginning in 1848. The mission offered food, housing assistance, job training, and alcohol rehabilitation. Lincoln had stopped at the mission in 1860 to encourage down-and-outers to do their best.

As I walked toward Chinatown, I saw a sign in Chinese and English: the Chinese Methodist Church. Without pondering, I entered. Something told me unmistakably that this was where I belonged as a worshiper this morning.

A service in Chinese was going on. In the narthex, I spoke with a young usher, told him I was from Drew University, had written on Phoebe Palmer, was interested in the history of her mission, and wanted to join them in worship.

This young man, the pastor’s son, said his brother was considering applying for the Drew Ph.D. program. He then welcomed me into the service, where I sat down beside another young man, who at the time I did not know was the pastor’s other son, Joseph.

Joseph kindly took me step by step through the service of the Lord’s Supper. The Eucharistic service I grew up with was the traditional Wesleyan service in the old pre-1968 Methodist hymnody—hardly tampered with since 1784 when Wesley commended it to the American churches. A strange serendipity soon became evident to me—I was following along with the old service I had grown up with, grown to love, but which the modern Methodists had largely discarded as antiquated.

To my surprise, I found that even in Chinese I was in familiar territory. I could quote in English what the congregation was saying in Chinese, far better than the new forms of our “updated” liturgy. The church was almost full; the preaching, earnest; the hymns, mostly tunes I had known from childhood.

The invitation was given to partake of the Lord’s body and blood. In Methodist churches that means Welch’s grape juice (Welch, a Methodist, started his huge business supplying temperance-oriented Christians). Joseph, not knowing I might be his future teacher, explained that I would be welcome at the Lord’s Table if I had accepted Jesus as Lord and had been baptized.

Suddenly, I was profoundly aware of the unity of the one holy, universal church, the wholeness and harmony of the worldwide apostolic tradition. As I walked down the aisle, I was moved by the intense piety, friendliness, and sense of the oneness of the church. Many faces bore marks of suffering and saintliness. As I left the kneeling rail, I truly felt I was worshiping with all the saints and a great cloud of witnesses.

It now seems Spirit-led that I was brought to that obscure congregation. A whole series of insights and images coalesced: Phoebe Palmer’s mission drew me there. And there I met the whole church around the world, felt the deep piety of people living in a harsh environment, recalled happily a former student who had served that congregation, and above all, tasted once again the body and blood of Christ.

As I left the Communion table, I felt I was in a state of grace due to nothing I had done, but solely to the mercy of God. As I went back out under a darkening sky into the crowded streets bathed in the aromas of Chinese food, I thanked God heartily for leading me there.

Speaking out: Next Time, Take the Kids

The volunteer coordinator at the rescue mission was stunned. I had called to volunteer my family of four to serve at their downtown picnic on the Fourth of July just after the Los Angeles riots. “This is so unusual. We’ve never had a whole family volunteer before.”

Exactly—families are not expected to serve together. Many Christians who are parents (especially single parents) stand confused as this question wars within them: Do I serve my family or do I serve others?

Those of us who are church leaders are especially torn. We grieve when we see a dad and mom showing up faithfully at umpteen church meetings while their children clamor for attention. We vow not to fall into the same trap and so we clear the calendar and stay home every night.

Tired of that all-or-nothing game, I called the mission downtown and volunteered all four members of my family. As anyone might guess, my 11-and 12-year-old children worked harder that day than they’ve ever worked in my kitchen. They cleaned spills and shared resources with each other without one hint from Dad or me. Dad and I didn’t growl when they accidentally splashed red punch on our white shirts. We worked side by side, listening to guests’ stories and holding undernourished, cooing babies. Afterward our kids enticed us to explore the crumbling walls of the mission, and we enjoyed the kitchen help’s offer of ice cream sundaes made from leftovers.

A study by the Points of Light Foundation on family volunteerism spells out what we learned that day: Volunteer families enjoy themselves more than individual volunteers do. They get to know each other better, and they like working side by side with people they already know. The organizations like having entire families volunteer because they volunteer more frequently and the organization can recruit more volunteers per phone call.

From a parent’s angle, volunteering as a family is quite practical. Our time is so valuable and we are pulled in so many directions, but we want to spend meaningful time together. One friend feels these pressures so keenly that she told me, “Ministries aren’t going to survive the 1990s unless they allow families to serve together.”

We as parents can help ministries do that by “infiltrating” existing programs. When the youth group made its regular trip to a nearby rescue mission, my husband and I volunteered to drive. The director needed an impromptu speaker for the worship service, so my husband volunteered. My junior-high son sat in the service amazed to see his dad using a football illustration and a few favorite Bible verses to explain the gospel. “Is that Dad?” he asked me.

Some churches are catching on. Youth ministers are designing mission trips for teens’ families, not just teens. When one nursery coordinator notices a child or teen has volunteered to work in the nursery, she asks the rest of the family to work as a team that day. At another church, families sign up to prepare Communion together.

I am not expecting anyone to disagree with me about this. That’s what’s wrong. This is a yawn-and-doze issue. We are content to let the extremes continue: children isolated from Super Volunteer Mom or Dad, or Mom and Dad dropping everything because they are ministering to their family.

How about using your voice to speak up for families serving together? Start with what you are already doing and wax eloquent about it to the people who plan your church’s activities. When planning an event, ask coworkers how families can work together. When you are asked to visit the elderly, take your children with you. Granted, some tasks cannot be done by parents and children together, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a worthwhile goal in other instances.

And let’s stay grassroots. Please don’t start an organization called Families Serving Together and ask me to sit on the board—unless the board meets in Hawaii and my whole family can come.

Jan Johnson is a professional writer living with her family in Simi Valley, California. She is the author of When Food Is Your Best Friend and Surrendering Hunger (both published by HarperSanFrancisco).

Speaking Out does not necessarily reflect the views of CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Letters to the Editor

Not All Good or All Bad

In a day when culture wars are polarizing people inside and outside the church, it was refreshing to read Tim Stafford’s balanced reporting of “The Therapeutic Revolution” [May 17].

There are dangers in substituting psychological techniques for dependence on the Holy Spirit, but there are also many ways in which Christian counseling can free us up to love one another more wholeheartedly.

It’s just too simplistic to say that psychology is either all good or all bad.

Kevin Offner

Cambridge, Mass.

Yesterday I received in the same mail CT and U.S. News—each with a cover article on psychotherapy. Thanks for a timely look at this subject. I hope CT is considering follow-through pieces—perhaps a forum made up of Christians who have gone through therapy.

David Hazard

Lincoln, Va.

There cannot be “theologically sound” books from the psychology movement as the movement is based on fundamental doctrines laid down by Sigmund Freud. Karl Popper, Nobel laureate and internationally respected philosopher of science, has observed that the movement is decidedly pseudoscientific. He rightfully concluded that it lies in the same realm as astrology or Marxism. The theories can neither be proven true nor false, thus placing those theories outside of science and into mere speculation.

Freud knew and wrote that his theories and related practices stood in total opposition to Christianity. What a tragic day when the church adopts his theories but rejects this teaching!

Gary L. Almy, M.D.

Assoc. Clinical Prof. of Psychiatry

Edward J. Hines, Jr., Hospital

Maywood, Ill.

You are correct in saying that “the leadership in the psychology movement seems fundamentally in sync with Bible-belt belief and culture.”

Sadly, they have chosen to be in sync with the culture rather than with the Bible; thus we have an increasing absence of the blessed, uncomfortable truth of God’s Word.

Carol K. Tharp, M.D.

Winnetka, Ill.

There is a statement within the article saying I no longer practice medicine. The truth is that I no longer practice “outpatient” medicine, but I continue to have a thriving “inpatient” practice in the Dallas area.

Paul Meier, M.D.

Minirth-Meier Clinic

Richardson, Tex.

Fantasy far from the truth

The ecumenical tone of Calvin Miller’s “The Cardinal and Brother Buckskin” [May 17] presents a beautiful fantasy, but it is far from the truth. The Holy Spirit cannot be a part of any activity counter to the Word he has given us.

Gerald E. Beers

Nooksack, Wash.

Delightful and insightful! The words of that testimony danced off the page and produced bubbles of joy in my heart!

Too often we in the Christian confessional community take our “doctrinal statements” and use them like overlays to assess (correct) the spiritual witness and presentation of another in the family of Christ. There’s never a perfect match. There is always a “Shibboleth” that we find mispronounced!

Oh, that our analyses could be seasoned with more salt and less insult!

Paul Hagedorn

Jacksonville, Oreg.

I Don’T Get No Support

On weeknights, our church is filled with recovery and support groups for people with all kinds of problems. In addition to the Alcoholics Anonymous and weight-control groups that meet in our church basement, our pastor recently helped form a prayer and support group for Parents of Teens—which our church secretary insists on abbreviating as the “POT group” on the church calendar. Some of us feel left out.

I think it’s about time to start a sympathy-and-sharing group for hemorrhoid sufferers. In spite of the fact that we’re now talking openly about child abuse, spouse abuse, and even clergy sexual abuse, nobody is yet willing to use the dreaded H-word in public.

How do you locate the hemorrhoid creams in your local supermarket? Look for the shoppers in trenchcoats, dark glasses, and fake moustaches.

Why the cloak-and-dagger look? We don’t get no respect. And not much sympathy either. If you dare to mention, sotto voce, that you’re suffering from hemorrhoids, you get a smirking “I’m sorry,” but nothing from the heart.

Today, it seems the only way to get respect is as a victim. So I propose that our church organize a victim identification seminar. We could give it a spiritual-sounding name like VINE (which would stand for Victim Identification and Networking Event). Like the workshops we have to help people identify their spiritual gifts, this ministry would help people recognize their particular victimization and channel them into the right support groups. Actually, I don’t care what group I get into, as long as I get some sympathy—and a soft chair.

Oops!

The conversion of £1 million to $656,560 [World Scene, May 17] is in error. £1 million equals $1,523,200. The British pound has always been worth more than the U.S. dollar.

Richard Parvin

Clearwater, Fla.

How disappointing! And we already had our bags packed for a week in the Lake District!

Eds.

L.A. riot “doublespeak”

As a minister for 27 years to one of the 7,000 churches in Los Angeles, naturally I went to your cover story of April 26, “L.A. After the Ashes.” The positive spin Andrés Tapia gave our city was what the rest of America needs to hear.

But there’s another side we cannot ignore. When all the purveyors of sociological doublespeak stop to catch their breath, the riot of April/May 1992 was about good versus evil. Most people conducted themselves with Christian, or at least civil, restraint. A few hundred incited a few thousand to do evil, which they were only too happy to do.

For all the good the churches did, some were part of the problem. We woke up the Sunday morning after the civil-rights trial verdicts (April 18) to see in the Los Angeles Times the face of the Rev. Cecil Murray of First AME Church celebrating the guilty verdicts given the two policemen. Murray was one of the loudest supporters of citizens who chose to riot and one of the severest critics of police who tried to “protect and serve” the citizens. At our multiracial congregation, we wept for all the failure of humanity the verdicts represented.

May God help his people not to exchange the cross and the empty tomb for political axes and empty words!

Rev. William Pile

Christ’s Church in the City

Los Angeles, Calif.

The text of the cover story was well written. However, the photo and caption, “Waging peace: L.A. Christians march for reconciliation along L.A.’s riot-torn streets” (p. 44), may have misled readers to conclude that Los Angeles is enjoying a renaissance of racial reconciliation, owing to visible efforts on the part of its evangelical church body. Unfortunately, that is not true.

Except for limited street witnessing conducted by neighborhood evangelical church bodies in their own localities, “L.A. Christians” have not been “march[ing] for reconciliation along L.A.’s riot-torn streets,” nor “waging peace” since the riots. L.A. has far from experienced a ministration of racial reconciliation by the Christian community at large.

Pastor Mark Gitelson

Lord of Hope Christian Fellowship

Pasadena, Calif.

My photo and those of my Christian street-ministry group appear on the cover and page 44 of the April 26 issue but our names were not listed.

I am John McKinney, and my loyal, white friend next to me is Mike Plesset. We are members of WE CARE, a Christian street-ministry group, who march every Saturday through the drug/gang area of Pasadena [not L.A.], witnessing our faith. Most are from Lake Avenue Congregational Church in Pasadena.

John L. McKinney

Glendale, Calif.

Too many ships, not enough crew

As recently as one year ago, I would have disagreed with Donald McCullough’s argument [“Staying with the Ship,” April 26]. Within the last year, however, I have observed one stylish, little yacht set out on its own. As passengers of the old schooner, we were hopping back and forth between the schooner and the yacht, not sure which crew we should help. The little yacht, after a few months on its own, seemed to be holding its own and staying on course; but then, suddenly, a small group of this already small crew started building a new yacht and set sail on it.

We still haven’t joined a crew, but we are observing three vessels: the two smaller boats lack necessary supplies, and all three are struggling with too few crew members to do the work. McCullough’s article validated my newfound respect for the “efficiency of tradition.”

Jan Stroethoff

Missoula, Mont.

McCullough’s article repeatedly errs in equating institutional Christianity with the church. Thankfully, a host of martyrs, confessors, and Reformers have thought otherwise.

Rev. James Kenneth Brandyberry

Indianapolis, Ind.

Thanks to McCullough for making such a strong case. There are several little “worshiping” groups here made up largely of “refugees” from our church. Their stewardship consists mostly of maintaining their facilities and paying a pastor. When I think of the contribution we might have made to world evangelism had we heeded Paul’s admonition to “bend every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” I want, alternately, to weep and scream.

Daniel C. Esau

Roanoke, Va.

As a church historian I get some interesting mail. Not knowing exactly what to do with it, I translated it from Latin and am passing it on to you. I have no doubt about the letter’s authenticity.

Dear Editors,

Thank you for publishing Donald McCullough’s essay against renewal. I wonder, however, how if Luther “remained committed to the ship” he and his followers are not now on board. I gave them the chance to stay on board after their mutiny failed, but they preferred their own crafts to the ship I ran. McCullough is exactly right to say that there is only one ship, and I am especially pleased that he identifies that one ship with one particular human organization. Anyone who leaves the organization I headed is indeed a mutineer. As Peter’s successor, I look forward to McCullough’s submission to my successor.

Infallibly,

Pope Leo X, 1513–21

Prof. Charles E. White

Spring Arbor College

Spring Arbor, Mich.

Real men

I would like to respond to John Wilson’s review of my book, The Real Man Inside [April 26]. First, he said my assertion that “the unconscious houses our spiritual side, or our soul, including the stamp of God’s image” was “an astonishing statement,” but never indicated why. I meant it not as a clinical pronouncement, but as one way of explaining how God indwells us. We know only a tiny fraction of our finite selves, and even less of our infinite God, in a conscious way. So where would the “rest” be, if not in our unconscious?

Second, Wilson said psychology has gained an “overweening authority” among evangelicals. Not! I only wish good psychology played a greater role. Psychologists, anthropologists, and some men’s movement leaders have provided valuable insights that all Christians can explore in light of our faith. What I’m trying to say in my book is, let the exploring begin.

Verne Becker

Piermont, N.Y.

John Wilson, in his review of my book Father & Son [April 26], says my argument allows that “real men need not keep the 10 commandments.” Rather, it proclaims that real men do not settle for knowing the commands over knowing the Commander. Biblical commandments, in fact, are demonstrable truth given by a loving Father to his children, after establishing his enduring, saving relationship with them.

Rev. Gordon Dalbey

Los Angeles, Calif.

Harmony in Frontiers

With all due respect, the article [“Frontiers on the Frontline,” News, April 26] is a serious compromise both to truth and the security of the men currently incarcerated in Egypt.

The U.S. board resigned of their own volition and stated their continued support of Frontiers and the leadership of Greg Livingstone. There was a philosophical parting of ways, but in no way was this the kind of hostile takeover implied by your article.

Furthermore, the naming of the people in prison, associating them with Frontiers, and disclosing the name of the secular business under which they operate will undoubtedly jeopardize their position.

I wish to state for the record that the Canadian office of Frontiers fully supports the international leadership of Frontiers and the U.S. director, Rick Love.

Bob Granholm

Executive Director

Frontiers, Canada

CT News initially contacted Greg Livingstone, founder of Frontiers Inc., who released the names of men held in Egypt and freely explained their link to Frontiers. The three Americans and one New Zealander have been safely released (see June 21 issue, p. 60). CT News withholds the names of overseas missionaries in dangerous situations at the request of sponsoring organizations.

Eds.

Nonthreatening

What do you do when your denomination officially takes one position on the ordination of noncelibate homosexuals and quietly practices another?

If you’re Stanton Jones, your approach is loving confrontation. CT has seen correspondence between Dr. Jones and an Episcopal church official, and we’ve heard reports of his testimony at that denomination’s general convention. Jones communicates directly, lovingly, firmly, and non-threateningly.

However, while Jones doesn’t threaten, his professional qualifications can be intimidating. A licensed clinical psychologist and chair of Wheaton College’s psychology department, he is the author with Richard Butman of the most used Christian textbook on the evaluation of psychotherapy (Modern Psychotherapies, IVP, 1991).

Nonthreatening could seem like the wrong word to another church bureaucrat who had Jones call his bluff. That’s what happened in private following a public meeting in which that church official flatly denied that ordination of noncelibate homosexuals was going on in his diocese. The man admitted covering up the truth.

The best therapists seem to communicate with utter honesty and palpable concern. That is how Jones has approached his differences with his church. And in this issue, he talks to CT’s readers with that same honesty and concern about some of the troubling issues surrounding homosexuality.

Christians are under a lot of pressure from their culture and even from forces inside their churches to revise their beliefs about homosexuality. At a time when some traditionalists grab for our attention with their fevered denunciations, we can only say we like Stan’s tone of voice and his commitment to truth a lot better. Look for “The Loving Opposition,” beginning on p. 18.

DAVID NEFF, Managing Editor

History

Changing the Tempo of Worship

For a thousand years of Christian worship, lay people had rarely sung. Then came Luther.

Wikimedia Commons

“Next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise,” Luther declared. He thus stood in sharp contrast to other reformers of his era.

Ulrich Zwingli, leader of the new church in Zurich, was a trained musician. Yet under his influence, Zurich’s magistrates banned all playing of organs, and some of Zwingli’s followers went about smashing organs in their churches. Though Zwingli later permitted some vocal music, he rejected instrumental music.

John Calvin, though he considered music a gift of God, saw it as a gift only in the worldly domain. Thus, its role in the church was severely limited. He considered instrumental music “senseless and absurd” and disallowed harmonies. Only unison singing of the Psalms was permitted.

Not so for Martin Luther. “I am not of the opinion,” he wrote, “that all arts are to be cast down and destroyed on account of the gospel, as some fanatics protest; on the other hand, I would gladly see all arts, especially music, in the service of him who has given and created them.”

Music in congregational worship remains one of Luther’s most enduring legacies. “Who doubts,” he said, “that originally all the people sang these which now only the choir sings or responds to while the bishop is consecrating?”

In fact, Luther’s hymns—especially “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”—are the only direct contact many people have with Luther. Modern Lutheran hymnals may contain twenty or more of his hymns, and many non-Lutheran hymnals include several.

What were Luther’s beliefs about music? What role did it play in worship? And what did Luther himself contribute musically to the church?

In Praise of Music

By the sixteenth century, musical composition had developed into a high art, and Luther himself was a well-trained musician. He possessed a fine voice, played the lute, and even tried his hand at advanced composition. He was acquainted with the works of the day’s leading composers, like Josquin des Pres: “God has preached the gospel through music, as may be seen in Josquin des Prez, all of whose compositions flow freely, gently, and cheerfully, are not forced or cramped by rules, and are like the song of the finch.”

Luther observed that only humans have been given the gift of language and the gift of song. This shows we are to “praise God with both word and music.” Furthermore, music is a vehicle for proclaiming the Word of God. Luther loved to cite examples like Moses, who praised God in song following the crossing of the Red Sea, and David, who composed many of the psalms.

He said, “I always loved music; whoso has skill in this art, is of a good temperament, fitted for all things. We must teach music in schools; a schoolmaster ought to have skill in music, or I would not regard him; neither should we ordain young men as preachers, unless they have been well exercised in music.”

Conservative Reformer

Luther’s high regard for music was matched by a cautious attitude when it came to reforming worship practices. “It is not now, nor has it ever been, in our mind to abolish entirely the whole formal cultus [worship] of God,” he once wrote, “but to cleanse that which is in use, which has been vitiated by most abominable additions, and to point out a pious use.”

He had no desire simply to throw out the liturgy of the church. The cry for mercy in the Kyrie, the praise of Christ in the Gloria in Excelsis, the witness to the apostolic faith in the Credo, the proclamation of Christ’s all-sufficient sacrifice for the sins of the world in the Agnus Dei—these were vital ingredients for the faithful proclamation of justification by grace alone.

Still, Luther sought reform. One of his concerns was the predominant use of Latin in the service. The common people needed to hear and sing the Word of God in their own tongue—German—so they might be edified. In one of his earliest liturgical writings, Luther said, “Let everything be done so that the Word [of God] may have free course ”

Luther also sought to rid the service of every trace of false teaching, which for him centered in the Canon of the Mass, a collection of prayers and responses surrounding Christ’s words of institution. Luther rejected the implicit teaching that the Mass was a sacrifice the priest offered to God. For the Canon, he reserved some of his choicest criticism, calling it, “that abominable concoction drawn from everyone’s sewer and cesspool.”

Luther nonetheless understood that hasty reform would only make matters worse. In his first revised liturgy of 1523 (An Order of Mass and Communion for the Church at Wittenberg), Luther said, “I have been hesitant and fearful, partly because of the weak in faith, who cannot suddenly exchange an old and accustomed order of worship for a new and unusual one.” Indeed, the six-year gap between the start of the Reformation and his first liturgical reforms demonstrates Luther’s caution.

Luther’s Order of Mass was itself a conservative reform effort. Certainly, the Canon of the Mass was out, replaced with instructions that Christ’s words of institution be chanted loudly. And all communicants would receive not only the body but also the blood of Christ in the sacrament. Still, though the singing of German hymns was encouraged, Latin remained the principal language.

The shift from Latin to German was also delayed because not many hymns or portions of the liturgy had been translated into German. Luther sounded the call for qualified poets and musicians to produce German hymns and liturgies that faithfully proclaimed God’s Word. Near the end of 1523, Luther wrote to Georg Spalatin, pastor to the prince of Saxony, urging him to write German hymns based on the Psalms. His straightforward advice: use the simplest and most common words, preserve the pure teaching of God’s Word, and keep the meaning as close to the psalm as possible.

By 1526, enough materials had been produced to enable Luther to prepare a service entirely in German. This German Mass followed the historic structure of the liturgy. Though Luther inserted German hymns to replace Latin, he insisted that Latin services continue to be offered on occasion. In fact, his ideal would have been to conduct services not only in German and Latin, but also in the biblical languages of Greek and Hebrew!

Hymn Writer

Between the publication of his 1523 and 1526 services, Luther began writing hymns. Though he had expressed doubts about his ability, he was not one to wait around indefinitely. Besides, Thomas Munzer, the radical German reformer, was already producing German services and hymns. In order to protect his people from Munzer’s teachings, Luther decided to provide hymns of his own.

During the final months of 1523 and the beginning of 1524, Luther produced more than twenty hymns—more than half his total output. Four of these appeared in January 1524 in the first Lutheran hymnal (known as the “Hymnal of Eight,” since it contained eight hymns).

By the summer of 1524, two other hymnals appeared in the neighboring town of Erfurt; each contained about two dozen hymns, eighteen of them by Luther. In 1524, the first hymnal prepared under Luther’s auspices also went to press. Unlike modern hymnals, it was actually a choir book with multivoice settings. Of its thirty-eight hymns, twenty-four were by Luther.

Hymnals proliferated so rapidly that many of them published hymns by Luther without permission. Though Luther did not have the modern-day concern of copyright infringement, he didn’t want others making “improvements” to his hymns, lest the pure teaching of God’s Word be adulterated.

Luther wrote a variety of hymns. His first, more of a ballad, came following the deaths of the first two Lutheran martyrs (in Brussels on July 1,1523). Luther used this hymn to counter rumors that the two men had recanted before they died. Luther sings that though enemies can spread their lies, “We thank our God therefore, his Word has reappeared.”

Luther’s other hymns were intended for church services and for devotions at home. In 1524, Luther wrote six of his seven hymns based on psalms. His final psalm hymn, “A Mighty Fortress,” was written about three years later, when Luther was undergoing severe trials. This hymn exhibits a much freer style and is only loosely connected to the text of Psalm 46. Yet “A Mighty Fortress” reflects both Luther’s struggles and his utter confidence in God: “Though devils all the world should fill, / All eager to devour us, / We tremble not, we fear no ill, / They shall not overpower us.”

Luther also wrote hymns for portions of the liturgy and for all the seasons of the church year. To teach the catechism, he wrote two hymns on the Ten Commandments, a hymn for the Apostles’ Creed, one for the Lord’s Prayer, and others for baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Through these hymns, Luther demonstrated his ongoing desire to teach the faith, especially to children.

Martin Luther forged a new hymnody and church music that continues to express the message he proclaimed.

Paul J. Grime is pastor of St. Paul's Lutheran Church in West Allis, Wisconsin, and a doctoral candidate at Marquette University.

Copyright © by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

Martin Luther’s Later Years: A Gallery – Family Album

Katherine Von Bora (1499–1552)

Runaway nun who became Luther’s “lord”

When Martin Luther heard that the monks joining in his reformation had begun getting married, he rejected the idea for himself: “Good heavens! They won’t give me a wife!” But time would prove otherwise. In 1523, Katherine von Bora and eleven (some say eight) other nuns wanted to escape their cloister, and they wrote to Luther, whose radical new ideas had filtered into their convent. Though liberating nuns was a capital offense, Luther devised an ingenious plan with Leonhard Koppe, who regularly delivered herring to the cloister. On Koppe’s next delivery, twelve nuns were smuggled out—inside empty herring barrels. As a man in Wittenberg put it, “A wagon load of vestal virgins has just come to town, all more eager for marriage than for life.” Luther found husbands for most, but he struggled to find a suitable match for Katherine, a feisty redhead in her mid-20s, far beyond the usual age for marriage. He proposed one older man, but she refused him, adding that if Luther himself were willing, she would say yes. Luther was not interested. “I am not now inclined to take a wife,” he wrote to a friend. “Not that I lack the feelings of a man (for I am neither wood nor stone), but my mind is averse to marriage because I daily expect the death decreed to the heretic.” Bolstered by his parents’ encouragement to wed, however, Luther married in the summer of 1525, “quickly and secretly.” He knew his best friends would not have approved of his choice: “All my best friends exclaimed, ‘For heaven’s sake, not this one,’ ” he admitted. The marriage brought even more scorn from his Catholic opponents, such as Henry VIII, who considered the union “a crime.” One pamphlet called Katherine a “poor, fallen woman” who had passed “from the cloistered holy religion into a damnable, shameful life.” But Luther’s friend Philipp Melanchthon had “hopes that this state of life may sober him down, so that he will discard the low buffoonery that we have often censured.” Kate indeed set about bringing order to Martin’s chaotic personal affairs. He had been a bachelor for many years, and he noted, “Before I was married, the bed was not made for a whole year and became foul with sweat.” Martin suffered at various times from gout, insomnia, catarrh, hemorrhoids, constipation, stones, dizziness, and ringing in the ears. So Kate became a master of herbal medicines, poultices, and massage. She brewed her own beer, which also served as a medicine for his insomnia and stones. Finances were a perpetual worry, in part because Martin was always giving away what few funds and belongings they had. Katherine, whom Martin wryly dubbed “my Lord Kate,” often had to take matters into her own hands. Martin once wrote a friend, “I am sending you a vase as a wedding present. P.S. Katie’s hid it.” The Luther home usually overflowed with, in one observer’s words, “a motley crowd of boys, students, girls, widows, old women, and youngsters. For this reason there is much disturbance in the place.” Kate supervised the whole with skill and patience. She also planted the fields, cared for an orchard, harvested a fish pond, looked after the barnyard, and slaughtered the livestock.

Though Martin denied having any “burning” passion for his wife, his writings reflect his twenty-year devotion to her. He once chided himself for giving “more credit to Katherine than to Christ, who has done so much for me.” And he declared, “I would not give my Katie for France and Venice together.”

Upon Martin’s death in 1546, Katie grieved: “For who would not be sad and afflicted at the loss of such a precious man as my dear lord was? He did great things not just for a city or a single land, but for the whole world. Therefore I am truly so deeply grieved that I cannot … eat or drink, nor can I sleep. And if I had a principality or an empire and lost it, it would not have been as painful as it is now that the dear Lord God has taken from me this precious and beloved man, and not from me alone, but from the whole world.”

Luther’s Children

Six “little heathen” from God

Only four months after Martin and Kate were married, he told a friend: “My Katherine is fulfilling Genesis 1:28.” On June 7, 1526, the Luthers were “fruitful,” and Johannes, known as Hans, was born. Martin quipped: “Kick, little fellow. That’s what the pope did to me, but I got loose.”

His parents knew the superstition that if a monk and nun had a child together, it would be a two-headed monster. Instead they received a healthy boy, a source of great happiness. “Hans is cutting his teeth and beginning to make a joyous nuisance of himself,” Martin later wrote. “These are the joys of marriage, of which the pope is not worthy.”

The next year, 1527, came a daughter, Elizabeth. Her father wrote to a prospective godmother: “Dear Lady, God has produced from me and my wife, Katie, a little heathen. We hope you will be willing to become her spiritual mother and help make her a Christian.”

Next came Magdalena (1529), Martin (1531), Paul (1533), and Margaretha (1534). Such a large brood kept both mother and father busy. Luther sometimes had to wash diapers, but he declared defiantly that even if neighbors should snicker at such “unmanly” labor, “Let them laugh. God and the angels are smiling in heaven.”

Hans became a lawyer and later a government official. Paul grew up to be a famous doctor. Martin studied theology but never became a pastor, dying young, at age 33. Margaretha married a nobleman.

The Luthers’ hearts were broken twice, when they lost Elizabeth at only 8 months and Magdalena at 13 years.

Martin asked Magdalena as she lay upon her deathbed: “Magdalena, my little girl, you would like to stay with your father here, and you would be glad to go to your Father in heaven?”

“Yes, dear Father,” she said, “as God wills.” Then she died in his arms.

“Beloved little Magdalena,” Luther said as she was buried, “you will rise and shine like the stars and sun.”

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

Martin Luther’s Later Years: Did You Know?

Little-known or remarkable facts about Martin Luther’s later years

When Martin Luther married, neither he nor his bride, Katherine von Bora, felt “in love.” Katherine was still getting over a broken engagement to a man she truly loved. And Martin admitted, “I am not ‘in love’ or burning with desire.” Yet their love for each other blossomed throughout their 20-year marriage.

Luther knew most of the New Testament and large sections of the Old Testament by memory.

Nearly everyone noticed Luther’s remarkable eyes. One of his students described Martin Luther’s “deep black eyes and brows, sparkling and burning like stars, so that one could hardly bear looking at them.” One of Luther’s enemies said his eyes were “unusually penetrating and unbelievably sparkling, as one finds them now and then in those that are possessed.”

Luther’s German translation of the Bible had more influence upon the German language than the King James Version had on English. Though almost 460 years old, Luther’s translation is still sold and read widely.

Martin Luther has been called “one of the greatest preachers of all time,” yet he became deeply discouraged with his congregation. Despite his admonitions and instruction, Luther felt, his people remained godless. “It annoys me to keep preaching to you,” he said, and in 1530, he actually went on strike and refused to preach for a time.

In 1527, a terrible plague struck Wittenberg, and virtually all of Luther’s students fled for their lives. The elector (prince) begged Luther to leave town also, but Luther felt pastors should stay and help the afflicted. Because he and Katherine took in so many sick and dying people, their house had to be quarantined even after the plague ended.

Luther was so generous he was sometimes taken advantage of. In 1541, a transient woman, allegedly a runaway nun, came to their home. Martin and Katherine fed and housed her, only to discover she had lied and stolen. Yet Luther believed no one would become poor by practicing charity. “God divided the hand into fingers so that money would slip through,” he said.

Even on his wedding night, Luther couldn’t refuse a person in need. At 11 p.m., after all the guests had left, radical reformer Andreas Karlstadt knocked at the door. Largely because Luther fiercely opposed him, Karlstadt had fled town. But now, when Karlstadt was fleeing the Peasants’ War and needed shelter, Luther took him in.

Luther made singing a central part of Protestant worship. In his German Mass of 1526, he dispensed with the choir and assigned all singing to the congregation. He would often call congregational rehearsals during the week so the people could learn new hymns.

Luther was convinced he lived in the last days. In the foreword to his translation of Daniel, he identified the Antichrist of Daniel 11 as the papacy; the “small horn” of Daniel 7 was the invading Turks.

Luther enjoyed beer and wine as God’s good gifts. He had a mug with three rings. The first, he said, represented the Ten Commandments, the second the Apostles’ Creed, and the third the Lord’s Prayer. Luther was amused he could drain the mug of wine through the Lord’s Prayer though a friend could not get beyond the Ten Commandments. But Luther is never recorded to have gotten drunk.

Luther and his fellow reformers in Wittenberg took religious education seriously. Here, for example, are worship services and sermon texts during one week:

Sunday, 5 a.m.—Pauline Epistles

Sunday, 9 a.m.—The Gospels

Sunday afternoon—The Catechism

Monday and Tuesday—The Catechism

Wednesday—The Gospel of Matthew

Thursday and Friday—The Epistles

Saturday—The Gospel of John

Though the preaching load was shared, Luther often spoke at all Sunday services.

Luther said he would be glad for all his works to perish except “On the Bondage of the Will,” which emphasizes people’s inability to save themselves, and his “Small Catechism,” which explains the faith to children.

Mark Galli is associate editor of Christian History.

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

Luther’s Will and Testaments

He bequeathed statements of belief that guide millions of Christians today.

Thomas Carlyle once described Martin Luther as “great, not as a hewn obelisk, but as an Alpine mountain, so simple, honest, spontaneous, not setting up to be great at all; there for another purpose than being great at all!” That “purpose” was, in Luther’s mind, to preserve and proclaim God-given doctrine.

The thought never nested in Luther’s mind that the doctrine for which he stood was his own. “It is not my doctrine, not my creation, but God’s gift,” he declared in a 1531 sermon. “Dear Lord God, it was not spun out of my head, nor grown in my garden. Nor did it flow out of my spring, nor was it born of me. It is God’s gift, not a human discovery.”

Confession of God-given doctrine has characterized the church bearing Luther’s name ever since. Nine documents, or “symbols,” define the Lutheran Church and its theology:

1. The Apostles’ Creed

2. The Nicene Creed

3. The Athanasian Creed

4. The unaltered Augsburg Confession

5. The Apology of the Augsburg Confession

6. The Schmalkald Articles (and Tractate)

7. Luther’s Large Catechism

8. Luther’s Small Catechism

9. The Formula of Concord.

Lutheran churches commonly include a plank in their constitutions tying them to these symbols. Some churches, like the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, commit themselves to these “confessions” without qualification. Other Lutheran bodies refer to some confessions as historically important but not binding.

All nine documents have a connection—some more, some less—with the mind and spirit of Luther. What role did he play in each one?

Commending the Creeds

Martin Luther, of course, did not write the ancient Apostles’, Nicene, or Athanasian Creeds. But at a time when some reformers wished to do away with all things traditional, Luther saw the value in these creeds and embraced them.

As early as 1524, Luther wrote a hymn based on the Apostles’ creed:“We All Believe in One True God.” In a sermon preached on Trinity Sunday, 1535, Luther stated trenchantly: “As the bee collects honey from many fair and beautiful flowers, so is this [Apostles’] Creed collected, in appropriate brevity from the books of the beloved prophets and apostles—from the entire Scriptures—for children and unlearned Christians. For brevity and clearness it could not have been better arranged, and it has remained in the church from ancient time.”

Two years later, Luther wrote warmly on The Three Symbols or Creeds of the Christian Faith (1537). From the first, then, followers of Luther shared his creed consciousness.

Arguing at Augsburg

Soon the Lutheran movement was compelled to write a statement of its own.

Holy Roman Emperor Charles V summoned the dissident Protestant princes and leaders to a meeting at Augsburg on April 6, 1530. When Charles and his imperial retinue rode into town with the papal legate, a month late, Protestant Elector John and his allies stood upright, refusing to bow to receive the papal blessing.

The Lutheran party had worked feverishly to ready an apology, a defense of their faith. They had met with Luther on their way to Augsburg, though Luther could not join them at the diet [meeting], because a condemned heretic had no rights.

Their resultant Augsburg Confession contained two parts. In the first, the Lutherans wrote in twenty-one articles the essentials of Christian doctrine. In the second part, the Lutherans addressed areas of conflict: withholding the Communion cup from the laity; forbidding marriage for clergy; the Mass as sacrifice; obligatory confession to the priest; required feasts and fasting; irrevocable monastic vows; and the secular power of bishops.

Philipp Melanchthon, Luther’s gentler colleague, was the primary writer, but Luther guided the contents. Luther wrote, after receiving Melanchthon’s draft, “I know nothing to improve or change it,” though he admitted, “I cannot step so softly and quietly.” Later, Luther could rightly declare, “The Catechism, the exposition of the Ten Commandments, and the Augsburg Confession are mine.” As historian Philip Schaff concluded, “Luther was the primary author, Melanchthon the secondary author, of the contents.”

When the Lutheran group presented this confession to Charles V, the emperor appeared to listen attentively, though Spanish, not German, was his mother tongue. He began to nod during the two-hour-long reading, but this was no disrespect; he also drowsed when his papal theologians presented a rebuttal known as the Confutation.

But the Augsburg Confession had already made its impression. According to Schaff, “the [Catholic] bishop of Augsburg is reported to have said privately that it contained nothing but the pure truth.” The Augsburg Confession has become a standard for Lutheran theology, a document with the weight of a Declaration of Independence.

Augsburg’s Addendum

The conflict at the Diet of Augsburg led to a second document, known as the Apology of the Augsburg Confession.

Charles V had given the Protestant party until April 15, 1531 to accept the terms and the theology of the Confutation. This was unacceptable to the Lutherans, and Melanchthon wrote an Apology in response. (The Lutherans also saw the need for a defensive league in case the emperor brought military pressure against them.)

Luther had no direct hand in the Apology, which rebuts the Confutation and provides Melanchthon’s commentary on the Augsburg Confession.

Melanchthon, ever meticulous, continued to fiddle with both the Augsburg Confession and the Apology in the ensuing years. Luther deplored this indecisiveness, and he gave the original versions his unqualified support. Thus, the 1531 “unaltered” versions were used in the Book of Concord years later.

Opposing the Papacy

The next key Lutheran document, Luther’s Schmalkald Articles of 1537, set papal and Lutheran theology in sharp opposing positions.

Pope Paul III announced a church council for May 1537. The Lutheran princes and theologians decided they should be ready with a statement. Luther drafted initial articles, pointing to topics on which the Roman church had departed from the Word of God.

Lutheran leaders and theologians met in early 1537 at Schmalkald to discuss Luther’s articles. Melanchthon approved of them, though he disliked Luther’s sharpness about papal tyranny and his identification of the papacy as the Antichrist.

At the outset of the meeting, however, Luther became desperately ill. Then Melanchthon was able to maneuver the meeting to reconsider the Augsburg Confession and the Apology. Luther remained too ill to protest, and the result was that his articles were not publicly read.

The upshot of Melanchthon’s tactics, ironically, was that the princes pressed him (and other theologians) to compose a document called Treatise on the Power and Primacy of the Pope, known also as the Tractate. If anything, it even more strongly denounced papal tyranny and identified the papacy as the Antichrist. Melanchthon’s Tractate, which is spoken of as an appendix to Luther’s Schmalkald Articles, was included with them in the Book of Concord.

Ultimately, neither document was used in public debate, for the council called for 1537 never took place. Not until 1545, at Trent, was a general church council held.

Crafting the Catechisms

After visiting Lutheran churches, Luther became concerned about the laity’s ignorance of Christian doctrine. So he wrote, in 1529, his Large Catechism and Small Catechism.

Both treat the faith’s chief doctrines with uncomplicated clarity. The Large Catechism still stands as one of the finest summaries of Christian doctrine. The Small Catechism has been called “the gem of the Reformation” and “the layman’s Bible.” Thus, both were ultimately included in the Book of Concord as official confessions of the Lutheran church

Forming the Formula of Concord

The final Lutheran confession was born because difficult days followed Luther’s death. Pope Paul III managed to convene the Council of Trent which, among other things, launched a strong Catholic “counter Reformation.” Emperor Charles V defeated the Lutheran forces, even capturing Elector John Frederick and Philip of Hesse.

With Luther gone, the church that bore his name became torn by controversy. Disputes raged over the nature of original sin, the role of the human will in conversion, the place of faith and good works in a believer’s life, the presence of Christ’s body and blood in the Sacrament, eternal election, church rites, and more.

In l577 Elector August of Saxony gathered six theologians to settle the disputes and restore concord, or harmony, to the church. The resulting Formula of Concord is the most comprehensive of the Lutheran symbols, precise in definitions and careful in arrangement. Martin Chemnitz and Jacob Andreae are usually mentioned as the chief writers, and historian Schaff admits that Luther probably would have “heartily endorsed” their work. Writer Charles Porterfield Krauth has even wondered whether without the Formula of Concord, “Protestantism could have been saved to the world.”

Three years later, the Formula and other Lutheran documents were gathered in the Book of Concord, a work that continues to define Lutheran belief. For confessional Lutherans today, the Book of Concord was and is a bulwark for the faith.

Dr. Eugemne F.A. Klug is professor of systematic theology and Luther studies at Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and author of Getting into the Formula of Concord (Concordia, 1977).

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

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