Sunday, October 7, 2012

Wholly Following ~ Living a Singular Life (Part 3)

We have discovered in previous posts in this series that a life devoted to following Christ wholly may be envisioned and experienced as a pursuit of the three-fold path of living a submitted, singular and sacrificed life.  In the most recent posts, we began to ponder the meaning of living a singular life.  How are we to go about living this kind of life?  The answer will always be found in Christ himself.  He forms singularity in our life in much the same way as we are formed into followers who live submitted lives – through the shaping of an attitude of heart, the enhancement of an awareness of soul and the development of a practice of life.
As an integral part of the continuing work of formation, God cultivates love as the attitude of heart within each of his followers that motivates the singular life.  When Jesus was asked which of the commandments was the greatest, he replied, “The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.  And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’  The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:29-31).  Every aspect of our being is captivated and wholly devoted to God through love.
The greatest commandment, the most important one for Christ’s followers to obey every day in each step along our way is: love God with all that you are, through all that you have, by all that you do, in all that you say, with every thought that you think!  But, how do we experience this all-encompassing and unifying love of God?  How do I know whether I truly love God with my entire being?  John Maxwell, the author of numerous books on leadership, has said that in every 24-hour period of time, we demonstrate whom or what we truly love. The answer begins to emerge as we honestly examine ourselves by asking three questions.  In the past 24-hours, whom or what did I think about? Whom or what did I listen to? And, whom or what did you spend time with?  The person or thing you think about, listen to and spend time with most in each 24-hours of your life is the one you truly love.
As God forms love within us, we will begin to think about Him more and more.  Throughout the day as we encounter people, we will be prompted to think about how God loves them and how Christ gave his life to forgive them. We will begin to listen more and more to God speak to us through his Word as we hear it mentioned, taught or preached.  Thoughts of God’s Word will come to our mind through conversations with others and through both challenging and uplifting life experiences.  Our spiritual ears will become more and more attentive to God.  We will have a greater sense of living in his presence, of being with him always.  We will begin to see our relationships with other as existing in and through Christ.
In these ways we experience, by God’s grace, his work in shaping the disposition of love within our heart so that love for God pervades every dimension of our life.  By faith we pray each day for God to continue this work within us.  As he does, we are enabled to love God with all our heart, all our soul, all our strength and all our mind.  Our love for Christ begins to be the singular thread that runs throughout each thought, word and activity of our day.  We begin to sense a connectedness throughout every facet of our life.  God’s love becomes the motivating force for each moment.

In addition to shaping love as the attitude motivating our living a singular life, God is also at work enhancing within our souls an awareness of the presence of Christ in every moment of our life experiences.  When Jesus was just about to return to his Father, he issued the Great Commission to his disciples (Matthew 28:19-20).  His words are often recalled to challenge believers with the responsibility to evangelize the whole world, and this is indeed both the purpose and scope of Christ’s commission.  But there is one part of the Great Commission that is frequently overlooked.  It is found in the last phrase.  There Jesus promises us that his presence will be with us now and throughout the end of this present age.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Wholly Following – Living a Singular Life (part 2)


A life that is devoted to following Christ wholly may be envisioned and experienced as a pursuit of the three-fold path of living a submitted, singular and sacrificed life.  A singular life is the second of these three dimensions of a disciple of Jesus. 
How are we to go about living this kind of life?  The answer will always be found in Christ himself.  He forms singularity in our life in much the same way as we are formed into followers who live submitted lives – through the shaping of an attitude of heart, the enhancement of an awareness of soul and the development of a practice of life.
In the first part of this series of articles, we reflected upon God’s work in shaping the disposition of love within our heart so that love for God that pervades every dimension of our life.  By faith we pray each day for God to continue this work within us.  As he does, we begin to experience what it means to love God with all our heart, all our soul, all our strength and all our mind.  Our love for Christ begins to be the thread that runs throughout each thought, word and activity of our day.  We begin to sense a connectedness throughout every facet of our life.  God’s love becomes the motivating force for each moment.
In addition to shaping love as the attitude motivating our living a singular life, God is also at work enhancing within our souls an awareness of the presence of Christ in every moment of our life experiences.  When Jesus was just about to return to his Father, he issued the Great Commission to his disciples (Matthew 28:19-20).  His words are often recalled to challenge believers with the responsibility to evangelize the whole world, and this is indeed both the purpose and scope of Christ’s commission.  But there is one part of the Great Commission that is frequently overlooked.  It is found in the last phrase.  There Jesus promises us that his presence will be with us now and throughout the end of this present age.
The follower of Christ is empowered to live a singular life – a life fully integrated into the life of Christ – a life of oneness and wholeness.  This empowerment arises out of a growing conscious awareness of the presence of Christ in us and with us.  Because of his presence, “we too can ‘walk even as he walked’ (1 John 2:6), ‘do as he has done’ (John 13:15), ‘love as he has loved’ (Eph. 5:2; John 13:34; 15:12), ‘forgive as he forgave’ (Col. 3:13), ‘have this mind, which was also in Christ Jesus’ (Phil. 2:5), and therefore we are able to follow the example he left us (1 Pet. 2:21), lay down our lives for the brethren as he did. (1 John 3:16) (Bonhoeffer, Cost of Discipleship, 304).
An alertness of our soul to the presence of Christ with us will prompt us to recognize Christ in others.  We will begin to see and hear Christ more and more in the act of service and the words of encouragement that his followers express to us and to others.  We will begin to see Christ in “the least of these” – the marginalized people that we cross paths with in our day, and we will be prompted by his Spirit to reach out a offer of help and encouragement to them – a cup of cold water to a thirsty soul, a warm coat to a chilled body, an encouraging word to a heart heavy with burdens.
The believer who desires to live a singular life that follows Christ wholly will depend moment-by-moment upon the reality of Christ’s present presence within her, around her, and beside her.  The follower’s prayer will ever be “set me in your presence forever.”  (Psalm 41:12 ESV)

Monday, July 9, 2012

Wholly Following – Living a Singular Life (part 1)



We are pondering together what it means to live a life that is devoted to following Christ wholly.   A life so devoted is experienced as we pursue the three-fold path of living a submitted, singular and sacrificed life.  In previous posts, we have considered the call to live a submitted life.  The submitted life is a life that is formed by God with faith as its central attitude of heart.  It creates within us an awareness of soul to promptings of the Hold Spirit, and it is cultivated by the practice of meditation upon Scripture.

Living a singular life is the second of the three dimensions of wholly following Christ.   The call to follow Jesus presents us with a single, integrated, life-defining purpose.  But, in our busy lives, we are so often pulled in many directions.   Our days become fragmented, disjointed and even segregated into various spheres.  We have a “school life” and a “work life” and a “family life” or a “social life” and maybe a “spiritual life” or a “church life.”  These different “parts” of our experience, though, are disconnected.  We lack a unifying flow in our daily walk.

Instead of living our lives in “parts” or “fragments,” Christ calls his followers to wholeness – to oneness.  He calls us to live a singular life. This kind of living is expressed by the words of King David when he wrote:  “One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after:  that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple (Psalm 27:4 ESV).   The Apostle Paul also spoke of a similar desire as the central focus of his life’s direction.   “One thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:13-14 ESV).

So, how are we to go about living this kind of life?  The answer lies in Christ himself.  He forms a singularity in our life in much the same way as we are formed into followers who live submitted lives.  This formation first shapes an attitude within our heart.  It is an attitude of love for God that pervades every dimension of our life.  By his gracious work within us, we begin to experience what it means to love God with all our heart, all our soul, all our strength and all our mind.  Our love for Christ begins to be the thread that runs throughout each thought, word and activity of our day.  We begin to sense a connectedness within our life.  God’s love becomes the motivating force for each moment.

There is a wonderful example of the singular life that can be seen in a familiar story from the Gospel of Luke.  Jesus comes to dinner at the home of Lazarus, Martha and Mary.   Martha was an excellent host and was very busy preparing and serving a meal to Jesus and his disciples.  She was quite disturbed, however, when her sister (most likely younger than her, though we are not told) Mary was just sitting with Jesus listening to him.  Quite indigent, Martha confronts Jesus, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.”  By his reply, Jesus exposes Martha as one living a fragmented life, while Mary embodies the life of singularity.   “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”  (Luke 10:38-42)

We are all too often like Martha living lives full of anxiety and troubled about many things. Our eyes, like Martha’s, are fixed on others and their failures to meet our expectations and desires. Christ, though, commends Mary and calls us to follow her by focusing our attention, our love, our desire upon him. Far from leading us to inactivity, such a singular attitude of heart will motivate us to live more purposefully for him in every dimension of our day.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Wholly Following – Living a Submitted Life (part 4)


We have been considering together what it means to live a life submitted to Christ and his will.   In our previous meditation, we stressed our need for God’s grace to keep us ever alert to the Spirit’s promptings in our daily walk through life.  “As the Holy Spirit says, ‘Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion, on the day of testing in the wilderness.’” (Hebrews 3:7-8).  Our prayer should be, “Lord, grant me ears to hear your words and a will to obey your commands.”  In answer to that prayer, God continues his work in us enabling us to be living, more and more, a submitted life.    
                            
There is a practice of life that God commands us to engage in order to cultivate both an attitude of our heart to believe his Word and an awareness of our soul to perceive the promptings of the Holy Spirit.  This practice of life is meditation upon the Scriptures.  “This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:8-9 ESV).   Meditation upon God’s Word is more than merely reading or even studying the Bible.  Reading the Bible on a daily basis, as well as careful study of the Bible, are both excellent ways to encounter God’s Word, but through meditation upon the Scriptures  we submit our lives personally to what God has to say specifically to me right now in his Word.

Meditation may be understood through the imagery of a seed sown in good ground.  The seed is the Word of God.  The good ground is our heart and mind.  Silently, God works to cultivate the seed, watering it with his Spirit and warming it with his grace until it produces fruit.  God’s particular Word spoken into our lives is then embodied in our thoughts, our attitudes, and ultimately into our actions.  Our lives come to reflect, more and more, the image of Christ as we practice meditation upon the Scripture.  Through the practice of meditation we deny our own individualistic, selfish thoughts and ambitions.  Instead, we begin to yield ourselves to the will of God and, by the strength he gives us, we obey those specific words that he is speaking into our lives.

One of the best explanations of meditation upon Scripture is given by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his book, Life Together.  Bonhoeffer writes, “In our meditation we ponder the chosen text on the strength of the promise that it has something utterly personal to say to us for this day and for our Christian life, that it is not only God’s Word for the Church, but also God’s Word for us individually.  We expose ourselves to the specific word until it addresses us personally.  And when we do this, we are doing no more than the simplest, untutored Christian does every day; we read God’s Word as God’s Word for us” (Life Together, 82).  So meditation upon Scripture consists in saturating our minds, our thinking with God’s Word as he speaks those particular passages upon which we meditate into our own lives.

Here’s an illustration of how meditation upon Scripture works.  This story comes from the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  Shortly before the outbreak of World War II, Bonhoeffer had been encouraged to travel to America in order to avoid being drafted into the German army.  When he arrived in New York in the summer of 1939, however, Bonhoeffer was very troubled in his spirit because he was thinking of his family members and friends back in Germany who were struggling to keep their fellow Christians loyal to Christ rather than following the ways of the Nazi Government led by Adolph Hitler.  

As Bonhoeffer was praying and meditating upon Scripture, God impressed his mind a verse from 2 Timothy 4, “Do your best to come before winter.”  He did not randomly find this verse.  Instead, the verse was a part of his regularly Bible readings for that day.  He pondered the passage as it stayed in his thoughts throughout the day.  Ultimately, this verse, along with other circumstances and concerns, prompted Bonhoeffer to return to Germany on the last ship that departed New York harbor before the beginning of the war.

God’s Word can speak into our lives in the same way.  Meditation upon Scripture is the habit of life that we must practice in order to submit our lives daily to the will of God.  It is the practice that is essential to denying ourselves if we truly desire to be Christ faithful disciples who are wholly following him.

Monday, June 11, 2012

L'Abri Retreat: Bonhoeffer on Formation

My students and I recently enjoyed a weekend retreat at L'Abri Fellowship in Yang Yang.  I was asked by L'Abri's director Inkyung Sung to give a talk on Bonhoeffer.
We explored Bonhoeffer's ideas on God's work of forming the follower of Jesus into the image of Christ.  We examined the goal, path and pattern of the journey through which the follower becomes the imitator of Christ.


Thursday, February 23, 2012

Learning Together: An Approach to Sustaining a Community of Learning based upon a Lutheran Perspective on Adiaphora (Part 3)



A Suggested Model for Addressing Matters of Adiaphora within a Community of Learning

In order to properly assess whether a matter, be it an idea, a teaching, or a particular activity, is adiaphora we must first determine an appropriate standard by which this question may be discerned.  For Luther that standard was the Bible and more specifically the Reformation doctrine of justification by faith through grace alone.  Any idea, teaching or practice that was inconsistent with or distracted one from this foundational doctrine of salvation could not be adiaphora.  In the formulation of the doctrine of adiaphora that was later set forth in the Book of Concord, the standard was what God had commanded or prohibited in his Word.  What was neither expressly commanded nor forbidden by God’s Word was deemed adiaphora. 

For the later Lutheran theologians of the 17th century, who engaged with Calvinists in debates over the use of music in worship, the standard for determining adiaphora combined both Luther’s particular demand for consistency with the Gospel with the general rule that considered matters indifferent when they were neither divinely commanded nor expressly prohibited in Scripture.  

Even into the 20th century, Bonhoeffer’s reliance upon the Formula of Concord’s articulation demonstrates that the Lutheran standard for discernment of indifferent matters continued to exclude from adiaphora anything that would “obscure and pervert the truth of the gospel.”  Thus, Bonhoeffer concluded that the German Church’s adoption of the Aryan paragraph could not be an adiaphoron because it struck at the very substance of the truth of the Gospel and the nature of the church which is the Body of Christ.  In every case, the standard remained the essential truths of the Gospel as set forth in God’s Word.

In light of the standard used by Lutheran theologians, an approach to using adiaphora within the context of a community of faith and learning, such as a Christian university, should at its foundation recognize the authority of God’s Word as the principle means for determining what matters may be regarded as adiaphora.  But to hold up the Scriptures as the standard could very well prove meaningless if the Word were to be subject to individualistic interpretations of its doctrines.  

Rather, for a Christian community of learning, the commonly recognized and historic articulations of the essential elements of the faith must serve as a guide for its standard.  The historic confessions of the Church set forth in the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed are clearly fundamental and so may serve to establish an objective limitation upon the numerous interpretations that might be offered from the variety of faith traditions composing a Christian community of learning.  Thus, the assessment standard for the adiaphorist approach suggested here may be stated as follows:

An idea, teaching or activity that is not expressly commanded nor prohibited by God’s Word, as understood through the expressions of the historic Christian faith in the Apostles’ Creed and Nicene Creed, and does not obscure or distract from the truth of the Gospel may be considered adiaphora.
This standard is itself, though, open to debate and revision.  The final articulation of a standard should be the product of dialogue among those participating in the community of faith and learning.  The standard offered here may serve as a starting point for such a discussion.  Once a standard for determining what qualifies as adiaphora is agreed upon, then the members of the learning community may begin to raise particular issues for evaluation.  

For example, is the teaching that God created the universe adiaphora in a Christian community of learning?  To resolve this question one need only look to Genesis 1:1 and Hebrews 11:3 as well as the First Article of both the Apostles’ and Nicene Creed.  Based upon these Scriptures and the historic confessions, we may firmly conclude that the belief that God created the universe is a foundational and essential teaching of the Christian faith.  So the answer is that the teaching that God created the universe is not adiaphora.

In contrast, though, when a question within the broader subject of origins is presented in a more specific form the outcome may be different.  For example, is the teaching that God created the universe in six literal 24-hour days adiaphora within a Christian community of learning?  If this question is examined by the Biblical passages that recount creation, one may view these Scriptures as supporting an interpretation of a six-day creation as one possible explanation.  

When those same Scriptures are viewed through the lens of the historic confessions of the faith, however, the essential truth is limited to the proposition that God created all things.  The First Article of the Nicene Creed confesses:  “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.”    By what means and when God’s creative acts occurred is not addressed as an essential element of the faith.  Thus, the best answer to the question presented is that the teaching that God created the universe in six literal 24-hour days is adiaphora.

It should be noted that the characterization of an idea, teaching or activity as one within the category of adiaphora does not mean that this particular subject is unimportant or deserving of less attention than essential matters.  Rather, the use of an adiaphorist approach to subjects on which a variety of beliefs exists will, it is hoped, help to encourage an appropriate openness to discussion and dialogue that should be the hallmark of a Christian learning community that holds to the absolute nature of truth while humbly acknowledging that humans are limited in both their ability to apprehend and understand truth.  

Those matters that God has clearly revealed in His Word – the truth, for example, that He created all things – are essential elements of the historic Christian faith as testified by the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds.  Those matters which are not essential to the faith – not foundational to the Gospel – and which have no bearing upon our justification by God’s work of grace through the gift of faith may rightly be considered adiaphora. 

Once an idea, teaching or activity is characterized as adiaphora, we are presented with a second and potentially more significant concern.  Since matters of adiaphora may be addressed by a variety of diverse positions, should all positions and perspectives be welcomed and accepted within a Christian community of faith and learning?  In other words, if it is adiaphora, does that mean “anything goes”?  In answer to this question, the instruction of the Apostle Paul on the adiaphorist issue of eating meat sacrificed to idols provides essential guidance.  (1 Corinthians 8:1 – 10:33).  

Though Paul considers food, since it is an external matter, to be indifferent to our salvation (1 Cor. 8:8), the use and consumption of food is still to be guided by two essential objectives:  the glorification of God (1 Cor. 10:33) and the edification of others (1 Cor. 8:9-13; 10:23-24).  Based upon this Biblical pattern we may set forth the following guidelines when a community of learning seeks to evaluate what positions or practices within the realm of adiaphora should be respected:

First, does the idea, teaching or activity glorify God?  Does it direct the attention of others primarily toward God or toward the one engaging in the advancement of the idea, teaching or practice?

Second, does the idea, teaching or activity edify others?  Does it direct the other to Christ and his Word or does it focus on individualistic experiences without consideration of the practice’s influence upon others?

To illustrate a practical application of this aspect of the adiaphorist approach, we may use it to address a contemporary dimension of the debate over worship practices.  As we have seen above, questions involving what practices should be allowed in Christian worship has been the subject of considerations of adiaphora since the days of the early Protestant Reformation.  It should then be no surprise to any Christian community composed of a variety of faith traditions that questions would arise over what practices should be included in the community’s worship.  

One practice that poses such a concern is the use of speaking in unknown tongues in public worship.  It was an issue within the Corinthian church to which the Apostle Paul wrote his first epistle. (1 Corinthians 12:1 – 14:40).  This passage of Scripture contains explicit instruction regarding the use of the spiritual gift of tongues.  It may be properly deemed adiaphora because the possession and practice of this gift is clearly not essential to the Gospel, nor is it expressly commanded or forbidden.  Paul demonstrates that it is but one of a number of spiritual gifts that may or may not be granted to a believer depending upon the will of God.  

Whether this gift should be practiced as a part of worship must then be discerned by the community.  The guidelines for making this evaluation are whether the practice would glorify God (1 Cor. 14:20-25) and whether its practice edifies others (1 Cor. 14:13-19).  Following these guidelines, the community should discern both: (1) whether the activity of publicly speaking in unknown tongues causes those who hear it to direct their attention to God or, instead, to the one who is speaking the unknown tongue, and (2) whether this activity is edifying those who hear it. 

One this second part of the evaluation, Paul gives further instruction in 1 Corinthians 14:27-28 as follows:  “If any speak in a tongue, let there be only two or at most three, and each in turn, and let someone interpret. But if there is no one to interpret, let each of them keep silent in church and speak to himself and to God.”  In this case, edification of others requires that meaning be conveyed through what is publicly spoken.  If the means of conveying that meaning (i.e. an interpreter) are not present, then Paul instructs us that there should be no public speaking of an unknown tongue as a part of the worship of the community.  

While not all matters of adiaphora may be addressed by a direct appeal to Scripture, the principles that are set forth in the Word of God will still provide for our guidance to engage the question.  This approach to adiaphora recognizes that, while some matters may be allowable since they are indifferent to the essential elements of the historic Christian faith, an adiaphorist idea, teaching or practice will none the less always have an influence upon those who hear, see and participate in it. 

Conclusion

The purpose of this paper has been to explore the development and use of adiaphora both within the context of the Lutheran response to the Protestant Reformation in the 16th and 17th centuries and in more recent controversies within the Lutheran Church in Germany in the 20th century.  From this exploration, we have discerned an approach to questions regarding: (1) what qualifies as adiaphora and (2) how a community should respond to matters of adiaphora.  

Using this Lutheran approach to adiaphora as an exemplar, we have suggested a model for sustaining a community of learning through an openness to understanding the range of ideas and practices that may be appropriately considered as adiaphora.  Such an openness will allow for a variety of perspectives on issues that are adiaphora.  The first step in the model considers adiaphora to be any idea, teaching or activity that is not expressly commanded nor prohibited by God’s Word, as understood through the expressions of the historic Christian faith in the Apostles’ Creed and Nicene Creed, and does not obscure or distract from the truth of the Gospel.  

Once a matter of adiaphora is identified, though, the model provides that the community of learning must evaluate whether the adiaphoron glorifies God and edifies others.  If it meets these objectives, then the adiaphoron should not only be respected and allowed, but encouraged so that the community of faith and learning may be sustained and continue to grow through a mutual interchange of thought and life.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Learning Together: An Approach to Sustaining a Community of Learning based upon a Lutheran Perspective on Adiaphora (Part 2)


A Lutheran Perspective

We turn then to the Lutheran development and use of adiaphora in the context of the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century.  The basic definition for adiaphora is: things neither commanded nor forbidden in scripture.  It is also often defined as “matters of indifference.” As a starting point for Lutherans, the definition of this term has been informed by Article Seven of the Augsburg Confession, which states:  “For this is enough for the true unity of the Christian church that the gospel is preached harmoniously according to a pure understanding and the sacraments are administered in conformity with the divine Word. 

It is not necessary for the true unity of the Christian church that uniform ceremonies, instituted by human beings, be observed everywhere” (Melanchthon, 42).  A definite distinction is made between that which is necessary and essential (Word and Sacraments) as opposed to that which may be beneficial and helpful, but is not considered necessary. (Johnson).   It should be noted that the category of adiaphora is defined by those things that are not necessary for the unity of the Christian church.  For Lutherans, “humanly instituted ceremonies” were thus adiaphora, and as such, these ceremonies may or may not be observed according to the discretion of local congregations.

The definition of adiaphora that is drawn from Melanchthon explanation in the Augsburg Confession was formed principally upon the teachings of Martin Luther set forth in a number of treatises and essays that he produced in response to questions arising during the Reformation.  In July of 1520,  Luther published a treatise entitled “A Treatise On The New Testament, That Is, The Holy Mass.” Though he had previously written several treatises on the sacraments, Luther had only dealt with the definition and theology of the sacraments in these earlier works.  He had not yet addressed the implications of changes in worship practices that were necessary to reflect the theology of the sacraments that he had expounded. 

In “A Treatise On The New Testament, That Is, The Holy Mass” Luther began his attack on the Roman Catholic practices in the mass, particularly those practices that reflected the Roman Church’s theology of the mass as a sacrifice – our sacrifice to God.  What was essential to Luther was the understanding that worship is the means of God’s working and granting his grace to us humans and not an effort by humans to gain or earn the favor of God by any work of man himself.

In order to accomplish this aim, Luther sought, in this treatise, to define the mass as a testament that is God’s testament to us. If the mass is defined as a testament, then worship must be ordered and practiced to reflect such an understanding. Before defining the mass as a testament, Luther confronts one of his foremost concerns with the way mass is practiced – the distractions from the essential truth of the Gospel. On this point Luther states:

And now it has finally come to this: the chief thing in the mass has been forgotten, and nothing is remembered except the additions of men! … Indeed, the greatest and most useful art is to know what really and essentially belongs to the mass, and what is added and foreign to it. For where there is no clear distinction, the eyes and the heart are easily misled by such sham into a false impression and delusion. Then what men have contrived is considered the mass; and what the mass really is, is never experienced, to say nothing of deriving benefit from it ... If we desire to observe mass properly and to understand it, then we must surrender everything that the eyes behold and that the senses suggest – be it vestments, bells, songs, ornaments, prayers, processions, elevations, prostrations, or whatever happens in the mass – until we first grasp and thoroughly ponder the words of Christ, by which he performed and instituted the mass and commanded us to perform it. For therein lies the whole mass, its nature, work, profit, and benefit. Without the words nothing is derived from the mass. (LW35: 81)

From this passage, it can be noted that Luther is making distinctions between that which is necessary – starting to be defined as word and sacraments – and that which is adiaphora. Luther progresses along this tact as he acknowledges: “Although I neither wish nor am able to displace or discard such additions, still, because such pompous forms are perilous, we must never permit ourselves to be led away by them from the simple institution of Christ and from the right use of the mass” (LW35: 81). 

Luther’s intention was not to rid worship of traditions instituted by men, but to subordinate all human tradition and practices to the justifying word of God. To perform the mass and the celebration of the Lord’s Supper properly, such worship practices must first rightly be understood in the literal terms by which Christ instituted it – as a testament – when Jesus says: “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Luke 22:20).   To Luther it was essential that one must define and understand the mass as a testament, as he explained:

Not every vow is called a testament, but only a last irrevocable will of one who is about to die, whereby he bequeaths his goods, allotted and assigned to be distributed to whom he will. Just as St. Paul says to the Hebrews [9:16-17] that a testament must be made operative by death, and is not in effect while the one still lives who made the testament. For other vows, made as long as one lives, may be altered or recalled and hence are not called testaments … For if God is to make a testament, as he promises, then he must die; and if he is to die, then he must be a man … Christ also distinguishes this testament from others and says that it is a new and everlasting testament, in his own blood, for the forgiveness of sins; whereby he disannuls the old testament (LW 35:84).

One thing is clearly apparent from his writings on this subject: for Luther, the primacy of the Word must be central to any form of Christian worship.  “Let everything be done so that the Word may have free course instead of the prattling and rattling that has been the rule up to now. We can spare everything except the Word. Again, we profit by nothing as much as by the Word” (LW53: 9) 

By the term “Word,” it is most likely that Luther included the Lord’s Supper or Holy Communion in its simplest form – the elements accompanied by Christ’s words of institution – for it is the proclamation of the gospel in a nutshell.  In another of his writings he succinctly stated: “For the preaching ought to be nothing but an explanation of the words of Christ, when he instituted the mass and said, ‘This is my body, this is my blood,’ etc. What is the whole gospel but an explanation of this testament?” (LW 35:106).   

Calvinists, Anabaptists, Zinglians, and others among the Protestant Reformers may have appealed to the Word of God as the principal element to worship, but in Luther’s view, the Roman Church did not. For Rome, in sharp contrast to the Reformers, the principal element to worship practice was tradition – the performance of the mass as a sacrifice to God, based on human additions to the worship service. And what differentiated Luther from other reform movements that may have appealed to the Word of God as the principle element in worship was Luther’s insistence on that “Word” being God’s declaration of justification to the ungodly.  While Luther was in no way opposed to readings and singing in worship, he nevertheless insisted that whatever was read or sung must be applied to the litmus test of God’s Word of justification. If anything said, sung, or performed in worship is in conflict with God’s justifying Word, then it was not adiaphora.  Rather, it must be reformed or removed. 

Several years later, Luther wrote an order of service for the German mass.  There had been other German orders of worship that had been developed, but these had merely taken the Latin mass and translated it into German.  When Luther developed his order of service, he not only translated the liturgy’s text into the German vernacular, he also changed the music into a more German style and rhythm.  In defense of his reforms, he wrote:  “I would gladly have a German mass today, . . . But I would very much like it to have a true German character.  For to translate the Latin text and retain the Latin tone or notes has my sanction, though it doesn’t sound polished or well done.  

Both the text and notes, accent, melody, and manner of rendering ought to grow out of the true mother tongue and its inflection, otherwise all of it becomes an imitation in the manner of the apes”  (LW 40:141).  While seeking to meet the need of his German countrymen who desired a reformed worship order, Luther was cautious about making his fresh new form of practice into something legalistic and binding by replacing one oppressive form of worship with another.  Instead, Luther recognized that his new order of worship was within the category of adiaphora and so offered it with the following instruction: 

“I would kindly and for God’s sake request all those who see this order of service or desire to follow it:  Do not make it a rigid law to bind or entangle anyone’s conscience, but use it in Christina liberty as long, when, where, and how you find it to be practical and useful” (LW 53:61).  By this example, Luther provides invaluable assistance for understanding and allowing a variety of practices that are considered adiaphora.  They are not required by the command of Scripture nor are they essential to justification or the nature of the Church.  Rather, they may be practiced to the extent that they are practical and useful in the edification of others and the worship of God.

Luther’s view on reforming worship practices is very informative in the discernment of a model for approaching other areas of teaching or practice that present both matters that are essential and those which would be considered adiaphora.  In Luther’s case, he had great respect for human traditions and the heritage of Christian worship.  Yet, he had unreserved contempt for those who considered external human traditions to essential matters and thus binding upon the conscience.  

Instead, he considered such external forms adiaphora and thus, he encouraged freedom to be exercised in these areas.  His spirit of diversity in worship, however, was tempered by a disdain for those who desired novelty for its own sake and had no appreciation for the tradition and liturgy that had been handed down through the history of Christian practice.  Luther held that reform was necessary only when human additions to those worship practices were in conflict with the proclamation of the Gospel – where it turned worship into a work performed by humans rather than Christ’s work of salvation for and to his people.  By developing his German order of worship, Luther attempted to preserve the purity of the Gospel as the central focus of worship, while also providing an order of service that was both engaging to the people and respectful to the tradition of Christian worship  (Johnson, 11).

Not many years after Luther’s initial work and application of the concept of adiaphora in reforming worship practices, his successors had to address questions that arose when discarded Roman practices were reintroduced due to the pressures of persecution.  The Book of Concord’s Solid Declaration set forth an extensive explanation of this issue:

Concerning ceremonies and church rites which are neither commanded nor forbidden in God’s Word, but are introduced into the Church with a good intention, for the sake of good order and propriety, or otherwise to maintain Christian discipline, a dissension has likewise arisen among some theologians of the Augsburg Confession: the one side holding that also in time of persecution and in case of confession [when confession of faith is to be made], even though the enemies of the Gospel do not come to an agreement with us in doctrine, yet some ceremonies, abrogated [long since], which in themselves are adiaphora, and neither commanded nor forbidden by God, may, without violence to conscience, be reestablished in compliance with the pressure and demand of the adversaries, and thus in such [things which are of themselves] adiaphora, or matters of indifference, we may indeed come to an agreement [have conformity] with them. But the other side contended that in time of persecution, in case of confession, especially when it is the design of the adversaries, either through force and compulsion, or in an insidious manner, to suppress the pure doctrine, and gradually to introduce again into our churches their false doctrine, this, also in adiaphora, can in no way be done, as has been said, without violence to conscience and prejudice to the divine truth. (Solid Declaration, Art. X, ¶1-3).

The remaining paragraphs of Article X set forth in greater detail how matters deemed adiaphora may be allowed, but those which are judged by the Word of God to be false doctrine must be rejected.  As with Luther, so the authors of the Solid Declaration looked to God’s Word as the definitive standard when evaluating what God has commanded or forbidden and what matters are indifferent.

In the late 16th century and into the 17th century, the question of permissible worship practices turned from reforming the Roman mass to regulating Protestant worship practices.  This issue was the subject of many debates that pitted Lutheran against Calvinist reformers.  Ironically, the Calvinist’s started from a position that was consistent with the Lutheran’s Book of Concord. In fact, they defended a concept of the indifference of forms of worship, such as the use of instrumental or vocal music, as the grounds for removal of instruments and the singing of hymns from Calvinist worship practices. (Irwin, 160).  

Lutherans, however, were unwilling to settle for an approach founded upon adiaphora because they considered it to be only a half-hearted endorsement of music in worship.  While alluding occasionally to the teaching on adiaphora, the Lutherans, instead, saw Scripture and Christian tradition as pointing clearly to the importance of music as a means of praising God and receiving spiritual benefits.  Because God instructed such a means of praise, music was regarded as far more integrally connected with the means of salvation than merely considering it to be one of the adiaphoristic forms of worship.  While maintaining Luther’s profound respect for music, these later Lutheran theologians’ rigid adherence to the tradition they regarded as authoritative made them insensitive to the role of music in worship.

The issue came to a head at the Colloquy of Montbéliard in 1586 where the Reformed (Calvinist) spokesman Theodore Beza debated the Lutheran Jakob Andreae.  Andreae opened the colloquy with an account of how Calvinists were using horses to pull down and tear out pipe organs from church sanctuaries.  He contended that this demonstrated that Calvinists erroneously believed that musical instruments, like organs, were expressly forbidden by God in worship, and thus, were not considered by them to be within the allowable realm of adiaphora. (Irwin, 160).  

Thinking he had bested his opponent, Andreae was quite taken off guard when Beza agreed that such destructive practices should be condemned because pipe organs, as other musical instruments, were indeed adiaphora. Beza tempered his position, however, by noting that music had been abused under the Roman papacy when it served only to delight human ears.  In contrast, he observed that when music is used for the praise of God, it has a special power for moving the human spirit to devotion and true worship.  

Beza concluded that “music is neither good nor evil, neither commanded nor forbidden, but that it depends for its value of being used in such a way as to promote true worship” (Irwin, 161).  In response, Andreae stated:  “[W]e are herein in agreement with one another that organs and instrumental music are a free matter which one may have or not and for which each church has power and authority” (Irwin, 162).  Thus, the concept of adiaphora was the foundation for the allowance of a variety of worship practices between Lutherans and Calvinists on the matter of instrumental music.

The debate over the use of both instrumental and vocal music in reformed Christian worship practice, however, continued into the 17th century.  From the Lutheran perspective, Philipp Arnoldi set forth a clear statement of the adiaphorist position: “In sum, as far as our figural and instrumental music in German and Latin language is concerned, we have as support the example of our forefathers and Christian freedom.  In the Old Testament they necessarily had to perform according to their ceremonial law, but we are not bound to this and do not defend it with such great necessity as the adversaries [i.e. the Calvinists] exert themselves and cry loudly for abolishment” (Irwin, 165 quoting Ceremoniae Lutheranae (Königsberg, 1616).

These Lutheran theologians were adhering to a view of music as adiaphora which was consistent with the high regard that Luther himself had expressed for worship traditions that were consistent with the proclamation of the Gospel.  Arnoldi, though, did not consider music itself to be a matter of indifference.  Strictly speaking, only the varieties of instrumental and vocal forms of music were within the category of adiaphora.  This more refined view of music was expressed by Balthasar Meisner in his work Collegii Adiaphoristici where he observes that adiaphora are “middle things” because they are midway between the divinely commanded and the divinely prohibited (Irwin, 166).  

In another of his works, Meisner suggests that music itself has been commanded by God when he stated: “The Holy Spirit is not so much opposed to the sweet joy of holy Psalms as that he required and demanded the same from his faithful in both Testaments” (Irwin, 166 quoting Collegii Adiaphoristici).  While Meisner does not cite specific Scriptural prescriptions for the kind of music to be used in the church, he does emphasize that Paul urged the faithful to “love and pursue the holy harmony of songs” (Ibid.).

In comparison with these expressions of Lutheran views on music as adiaphora, the Calvinist theologian Peter Martyr Vermigli articulated his view in support of the exclusion of music with an explanation consistent with an adiaphorist statement of the issue when he wrote:

I affirm that faithful and religious singing may be retained in church; but I do not confess that any precept exists on this matter in the New Testament.  Wherefore if there be a church which does not use it, for just cause, it may not rightly be condemned, provided that it does not defend this matter illicitly by its nature or by the precept of God nor stigmatize other churches where singing and music are used or exclude them from the fellowship of Christ (Irwin, 168 quoting Loci Communes (Zürich, 1587)).

While one might imagine that Vermigli’s position would have been welcomed by his brothers on the Lutheran side of the Reformation, their response to the Calvinist churches that excluded music developed into a much more rigorous stance that move farther and farther away from the adiaphorist approach to such matters that had prevailed in the earlier days of the Protestant movement to reform the church. 

At the close of the 17th century, one Lutheran theologian thus observed:  “In the beginning of the Reformation it happened that middle things [i.e. adiaphora] were employed out of love and for the improvement of the weak; but what was then a free matter in the good hope that those who had such ceremonies would turn to us is now compulsory and almost an article of faith which we cannot change”  (Irwin, 172 quoting Theophilus Grossgebauer, Wächterstimme auss dem verwüsteten Zion (Frankfurt am Main, 1661)).  

From its beginnings in the early part of the 16th century to the end of the 17th century, Lutheran reformers used an adiaphorist approach by Lutheran reformers to the task of discerning what elements of traditional Christian worship practices could be retained and which needed to be reformed.  While their application of adiaphora sometimes yielded a more legalistic conclusion in the defense of what these reformers found to be “necessary,” on the whole, the Lutheran perspective on adiaphora provides for us today a workable model for addressing issues of import within communities of faith that range far beyond questions of worship practices. 

In order to examine for carefully the use and effectiveness of adiaphora, we turn now to a more formidable debate that separated the Lutheran church in the Germany of the 1930’s.  With the rise of Adolph Hitler to Reich Chancellor in 1933, Nazi rule began to permeate every dimension of German society.  The Lutheran Church was then the established state-sponsored religion in Germany.  Its ministers were paid by the government as civil servants.  

The Nazi’s sought to make this established German church “pure” by the adoption of the Aryan paragraph in the new Church Civil Service Law of that year.  This provision, in its initial formulation, restricted membership in the German church to only those of the Aryan race.  Later, it was revised to require those who served as ministers of the church to be of Aryan decent.  A sizeable number of German pastors organized in opposition to the Aryan paragraph.  Among them was the young Dietrich Bonhoeffer who assisted in drafting the following statement in response to the new law:

According to the confession of our church, the church’s teaching office is bound only to authorized vocations in the church.  The Aryan paragraph in the new Church Civil Service Law has given rise to a legal situation that directly contradicts this fundamental confessional principle.  It proclaims as church law a condition that is unjust according to the confession and that violates the confession.  There can be doubt that the ordained clergy affected by the Civil Service Law, insofar as they have not been deprived by formal procedure of the rights of ministry, should continue to exercise in full the right freely to proclaim the Word and freely to administer the sacraments in the Evangelical Church of the Old Prussian Union, which is based on the confessions of the Reformation.  Anyone who assents to such a breach of the confession thereby excludes himself from the communion of the church.  We therefore demand the repeal of this law, which separates the Evangelical Church of the Old Prussian Union from the Christian church.  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works, Berlin: 1932-1933, 164)

Bonhoeffer and the other pastors who opposed the Aryan paragraph declared that the law that sought to impose this racial restriction upon ministers of the German church was unjust, should be repealed and, what is more, if not repealed, should be violated.  Bonhoeffer and the pastors who had stated their opposition to the Aryan paragraph expected to be expelled from the established German Church.  Bonhoeffer wrote to Karl Barth seeking advice on a possible course of action that might lead to separation from the established German church (DBW, 164-66). Although Barth counseled Bonhoeffer and his colleagues to wait and not initiate a separation, the time soon came for the issuance of the Bethel Confession, that had been authored principally by Bonhoeffer, and with its issuance, the formation of the Confessing Church.

A debate then ensued between the German Christians who both submitted to and defended the Aryan paragraph, on the one side, and the Confessing Church, who rejected the Aryan paragraph, on the other.  In its most radical form, the Aryan paragraph stated, “Non-Aryans are not members of the German Reich Church and are to be excluded through the establishment of their own Jewish Christian congregations.” (DWB, Vol. 12, 425).  In its later version, it provided that: “The law governing state officials is to be applied to church officials; thus employment of Jewish Christians as pastors should be discontinued, and none should be accepted for new employment.” (DBW, 425).  

Bonhoeffer was a chief spokesman for the Confessing Church in this debate.  In his treatise, The Aryan Paragraph in the Church, Bonhoeffer set forth the various arguments presented by the German Church in defense of the Aryan paragraph and then systematically refuted them.  A large part of the German Church’s argument was founded upon their contention that the Aryan paragraph was matter of external church organization that is adiaphora.  For example, the German Christians said:  “We don’t want to take away from Jewish Christians the right to be Christians, but they should organize their own churches.  It is only a matter of the outward form of the church.” (DBW, 427).  In response, Bonhoeffer stated:

The issue of belonging to the Christian community is never an outward, organizational matter, but is of the very substance of the church.  Church is the congregation that is called together by the Word.  Membership in a congregation is a question not of organization but of the essence of the church.  To make such a basic distinction between Christianity and the church, or between Christ and the church, is wrong.  There is no such thing as the idea of the church, on one hand , and its outward appearance, on the other, but rather the empirically experienced church is the church of Christ itself.  Thus, to exclude people forcibly from the church community as the empirical level means excluding them from Christ’s church itself. (DBW, 427).

Since the question of membership in the church went to the very substance of what the Scriptures teach on the nature of the Church which is the Body of Christ it could not be characterized as a matter of external organization.  The German Christians then directly asserted that the Aryan paragraph’s exclusion of Jewish Christians from being pastors in the German Church was an adiaphoron, that is, something that does not affect the confession of the church.  They sought to use the Lutheran teaching on adiaphora as a shield against the protests raised by the Confessing Church.  
Against this assertion, Bonhoeffer stated that the Aryan paragraph struck at the very substance of both membership in and the ministry of the church. In so doing, it attacked the confession of the church – the essential beliefs upon which the church was founded.  The Aryan paragraph obscured and perverted the truth of the Gospel.  Thus, it was not a matter of adiaphora, but struck at the very essence of the nature of the one true Church which is Christ’s Body.

Bonhoeffer’s refutation of the German Church’s use of adiaphora in defense of the Aryan paragraph, however, went significantly farther.  He noted that even if the question of who is eligible for church ministry were considered a matter of adiaphora for the sake of argument, then the German Church should still yield its position in favor of the Confessing Church.  Bonhoeffer makes his argument by quoting a portion of Article X of the Book of Concord where adiaphora is addressed:

Thus, Paul submits and gives in to the weak in matters of food or days (Rom. 14:6). But he does not want to submit to false apostles, who wanted to impose such things upon consciences as necessary even in matters that were in themselves free and indifferent.  Col. 2:16: ‘Do not let anyone make matters of food or drink or the observation of festivals a matter of conscience for you.’ And when in such a case Peter and Barnabas did give in to a certain degree, Paul criticized them publicly, as those ‘who were not acting consistently with the truth of the gospel’ (Gal. 2:14).  For in such a case it is no longer a matter of external matters of indifference, which in their nature and essence are and remain in and of themselves free, which accordingly are not subject to either a command or a prohibition regarding their use or discontinuance.  Instead, here it is above all a matter of the chief article of our Christian faith, as the Apostle testifies, ‘so that the truth of the gospel might always remain’ (Gal. 2:5).  Such coercion and command obscure and pervert the truth of the gospel, because either these opponents will publicly demand such indifferent things as a confirmation of false teaching, superstition, and idolatry for the purpose of suppressing pure teaching and Christian freedom or they will misuse them and as a result falsely reinstate them. . . Thus, submission and compromise in external things where Christian agreement in doctrine has not already been achieved strengthens idolaters in their idolatry. (DBW, 431-32, quoting the Formula of Concord, Article X, ¶¶13-14, 16).

By returning to the Book of Concord, Bonhoeffer demonstrated that the Lutheran approach to adiaphora that had been developed in the earliest stages of the Reformation, some 400 years before, was still valid and applicable to the pressing issues of his day.  And so it is for all who seek to live and learn in the community of Christian faith. By taking the Lutheran perspective on adiaphora as an exemplar, we may formulate an approach to determining what issues, ideas or practices may rightly fall within the category of adiaphora and then, having identified an adiaphoron, we may develop a model allowing for a diversity of thought and practices within the guiding parameters of both the glorification of God and the edification of others.  To this task we now turn. 

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Learning Together: An Approach to Sustaining a Community of Learning based upon a Lutheran Perspective on Adiaphora (Part I)



A Faculty Learning Group Research Project sponsored by the
Handong Educational Development Center
 written and submitted by
Cordell P. Schulten, MA, JD
Associate Professor of American Law
with
Ellena Ceu, Research Assistant
14 January 2012

Introduction
In any community where people seek to live, learn and work together, there will arise questions about whether certain ideas expressed or practices performed are acceptable and beneficial.  How the community goes about addressing these questions will often determine both the nature of that community’s existence and the quality of the community’s capacity for development and growth.  

This is especially true within Christian communities, such as local churches, ministry organizations and educational institutions.  When Christians seek to worship and serve together in community, they will be faced with the need to resolve questions regarding doctrines and practices that are essential for all the community’s members to agree upon and those teachings and activities that are open to alternative positions in matters of belief and conduct.  The latter category of questions has often been referred to in Christian Theology as adiaphora – a classical Greek word that essentially means “things that are indifferent.”

Because any Christian community will need to address questions over matters where there may be a variety of different positions, it is important to learn from followers of Christ in the past who have sought ways of dealing with adiaphora.  This is especially true for a community of students, professors and administrators who compose a university that endeavors to engage in learning in ways that reflect the character and mind of Christ.  

This article will first undertake a brief survey of the concept of adiaphora from its philosophical origins through, more specifically, its development in Lutheran theology from the time of the Reformation to its 20th century uses within Lutheran dialogue.  Finally and most importantly, this paper will seek to advance a model for addressing matters of adiaphora that is based upon dimensions Lutheran theology.  

The model suggested will allow for the possibility of matters of adiaphora with the understanding that, while a given idea, teaching or activity may, in and of itself, be indifferent or morally neutral, the intention that prompts the idea or motivates the act as well as the consequences that flow from the idea or conduct will nonetheless have moral implications.  Thus, this application of adiaphora will not lead to an “anything goes” attitude within a community of faith and learning, but rather it will provide a means for sustaining the value of diversity in thought and practice tempered, though, by the ultimate twin goals of glorifying God and edifying others.

This first use of adiaphora can most likely be traced back before the Christian era to the ancient Greek philosopher Pyrrho (~ 365-275 BCE).  He used adiaphora to describe one of three characteristics of the nature of all things.  To Pyrrho all things were by nature adiaphora (i.e. “indifferent and thus, undifferentiable”), astathmêta (i.e. “unstable and thus, not measurable”), and anepikrita (i.e. “indeterminable”).  His thesis on the nature of things is more a statement about the limitations of human observations and understanding about the things humans seek to examine.  

Pyrrho taught that unless a person acknowledged this lack of ability to make ultimate discernments about the true nature of things the person would be unable to experience happiness  (Stanford Encyclopedia).  While Pyrrho’s use of adiaphora is much broader in scope than the use of this term by later Christian theologians, especially those of the Reformation era, his point about the nature of things is still quite instructive.  When we approach questions on which there may be a variety of possible answers, we need to acknowledge our own human limitations that impair our ability to understand and evaluate the ideas and activities of others.   Pyrrho reminds us that we must start from a position of humility.

Following upon Pyrrho, the Stoic philosophers developed the idea of adiaphora beyond a foundational ontological category into an ethical dimension of life.   For them, all ethical questions were divided into those actions which are good, those which are evil, and those which are morally indifferent or adiaphora.  Indeed, the Stoic Aristo is often regarded as the originator of adiaphora as an idea within the field of ethics (Diogenes Laertius, VII, 37).  Aristo’s notion of adiaphora was also influenced by the Cynics.  From these two emerged the prominent Greek usage of adiaphora.  To put their view of ethics simplistically:  virtue was good, vice was bad, but external, material things were adiaphora  (More, 70).  

The implications of this idea led to the conclusion that there is no difference in value between things morally indifferent. (Diogenes Laertius, VII, 2).  To be even more specific, this Greek conception of adiaphora taught that pleasure and freedom from pain are without value and “there was absolutely nothing to choose between the most perfect health and the most grievous sickness.” (Cicero, De Finibus bonorum et malorum, II, 13, 43).  Extended then to its ultimate conclusion, all experiences of life, such as health or humor, poverty or disgrace, or even sickness and death are all adiaphora.

The extremes to which the Greek philosophers took the notion of adiaphora were substantially abated, and one might even say “redeemed” by the understanding of “things indifferent” expressed and applied by later Christian theologians as they discussed the teachings of the Bible, in general, and of Jesus and Paul, in particular, under the category of  adiaphora.  

It is not the purpose of this short paper, however, to delve further into either the classical philosophical idea of adiaphora, nor to chart the development of its early Christian conception.  That task will be more ably undertaken by my colleague in another portion of this project.  Instead, the purpose of this paper is to explore the development and use of adiaphora both within the context of the Lutheran response to the Protestant Reformation in the 16th and 17th centuries and in more recent controversies within the Lutheran Church in mid-20th century Germany.  

Based upon such an exploration, this paper will seek to discern an approach to questions regarding: (1) what qualifies as adiaphora and (2) how a community should respond to matters of adiaphora.  Finally, using this Lutheran approach to adiaphora as an exemplar, this paper will suggest a model for sustaining a community of learning through an openness to understanding the range of ideas and activities that may be appropriately considered as adiaphora and an allowance for a variety of perspectives on adiaphorist matters.


(Part II will focus on a Lutheran perspective on the explanation and application of Adiaphora)