Just What Are We Celebrating..? (Reflections on Reformation Sunday)

“…and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (John 8:32)

Last weekend I was called upon (as I often am) to officiate a funeral service for an older gent who had been out of Christian fellowship for some time. One of the attendees who greeted me after the memorial was a petite lady of a rather mature vintage who politely complimented me on my sermon and then proudly declared, “I’m a Lutheran too!” I asked her where she worshiped, and she told me the name of a prominent parish in South Jersey where my wife and I had sometime attended Saturday evening masses. “That’s a beautiful church,” I said.

“Do you think so?” she replied. “I liked the old building better. And I don’t care for the contemporary music service at all. I prefer the old hymns.”

I thought to myself, “That’s so Lutheran.” Five hundred years ago we set the whole Western Church on its ear and changed everything. Now we don’t want to change anything.

Just what is it we’re really celebrating on Reformation Sunday? I mean, I really love this peculiarly Lutheran holiday, but I hope we look at it as a time to reflect on our core beliefs, not merely as an opportunity to glory in our heritage. Luther’s understanding of the scriptures still speaks loudly over the centuries, and it’s always worth repeating.

First off, we can’t ever preach too much about God’s grace. There’s something really liberating when we figure out that we’re not the ones driving this bus. We don’t do a freakin’ thing which influences God. God’s the one who does it all, and that’s pretty good news. We can admit to being the screw-ups we really are and not find shame in that. God, like an indulgent parent, is willing to grant us everything we need for this life despite the fact that we’ve done nothing to deserve it but be our own, selfish, stupid selves. We can stop acting like competitive high school kids. We don’t have to show off our achievements on facebook anymore. We have nothing to boast about except the love of Christ on the cross—love that says we’re pretty special in God’s eyes in spite of ourselves.

Also, ol’ Martin Luther left us a really key way to look at the relationship between the church and the state. It’s not quite the same as the way our American Founding Fathers refined it, and certainly not the polite way we practice—or, rather fail to practice—it today. In Luther’s day, priests, bishops, popes, and the like often had their noses in politics as power brokers. Pope Julius II was notorious for dressing up in armor and riding out in battle to conquer land for his papal estates. When the Church was so busy deciding who was in charge of stuff they had no time to preach the Gospel. Preaching the Gospel is, after, all the chief duty of churchmen. Luther wanted to make sure that priests and bishops served as shepherds to the people, and that qualified lay people handled the running of the state.

Luther believed that the state should protect and serve the citizens while it insured that the church was also protected. Kings and princes and emperors had no right to tell people what to believe and how to worship God. Similarly, priests and bishops and popes had no right to control who was put in charge of a country or how wars were to be fought. However, Luther did maintain that the Church was responsible for the teaching of morality and compassion to the populace. It was, he felt, the duty of the church to proclaim Christ’s love and correct the state when it had gone wrong. Those who in America today argue that religion and politics don’t mix display a woeful hypocrisy. Even in our democracy we are called to vote with our conscience. It can’t be “Love thy neighbor” on Sunday and “Every man for himself” the rest of the week. It is still the duty of the strong to protect the weak, and the duty of the rich to protect the poor. The teachings of Jesus still apply in our secular dealings.

As a former public school teacher, I personally love the fact that Luther was one of the first advocates for public education. In 1524 he wrote a powerful letter to the councilmen of Germany listing his reasons why the state should be responsible for the education of the young. Simply put, if a child can’t read, that child can’t read the Bible. Good education is deep in our Lutheran identity. I’m sure if Luther were around today he would have something to say about a country which vilifies teachers, demands high standards on tests, yet denies schools the means to meet those standards.

Our Lutheran heritage also embraces the idea of servanthood. In 1520 Luther wrote, “A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.” By this he meant, of course, that no one has the right to tell us what to believe. However, if we believe in Christ, we are bound to love and serve our neighbors as ourselves. There is a responsibility which comes with the faith. This is the natural outpouring of living in God’s grace.

An overlooked part of our Lutheran heritage (at least overlooked by the little lady I told you about above) is Luther’s belief that the Church is always reforming. I can’t tell you what American Lutheranism will look like in ten years’ time, but I’m pretty sure it will look differently from the way it looks now. I suspect the neighborhood church like the one I grew up in and the one I currently pastor may very likely disappear. Churches may become more community centers (as mine already has), and pastors may be part-time or bi-vocational (as many already are). Who knows? We may go back to the house church model of our early Christian ancestors. But, as Luther’s hymn reminds us, “God’s Word forever shall abide.”

What is this Lutheran Church we celebrate? A church proclaiming God’s grace—a church free to be full of love, forgiveness, welcome, and compassion. It’s a church not afraid to speak to society. It’s a church grounded in solid scholarship. It’s a church willing to be flexible with the changing times for the sake of the Gospel. It’s a church made free from fear.

May it always be so. Thanks for dropping by!