Showing posts with label Bonhoeffer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bonhoeffer. Show all posts

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. 

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Study Groups -- Bonhoeffer's Example

In her book, Bonhoeffer: Called of God, Elizabeth Raum includes this insightful depiction of a study group Bonhoeffer led for some of his students while he was teaching at the University of Berlin:

"In addition to attending Dietrich's lectures some of his students became part of a study group that met with him one evening a week in the room of Wolf-Dieter Zimmerman, his assistant. Dietrich's preferred teaching strategy was to ask questions and guide discussions. They gathered in Zimmerman's small room in groups of ten to fifteen to discuss theology.  Dietrich enjoyed such informal evenings because they allowed a more natural exchange of ideas than did lecturing.  The students learned to think clearly, to examine issues from all sides, and not to jump to premature conclusions.  At the end of each evening, Dietrich treated them to drinks in a local beer cellar" (52).

Professor-led study groups are a common occurrence here at Handong. I have been asked by my students to lead two this semester.  The Law & Advocacy Society meets each Tuesday evening to practice trial advocacy skills.  Our goal is to conduct a full mock trial by the end of the semester. We're working on a products liability case and will be starting with opening statements tomorrow evening.  As for refreshments, though, Domino's pizza and soda will likely be our best fare.


Law & Advocacy Society
 My second group consists of undergraduate law students who are planning to take the Law School Admissions Test (LSAT) later this year as they look ahead to applying for entrance into an American law school in the fall of 2012 following their graduation in December.  This group meets on Saturday mornings to work through practice LSAT exam questions.  I have promised to cook them all an "American breakfast" in a couple of weeks.  Pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs are on the menu!

I hope to be feeding their minds as well as their stomachs as we study together in these informal group settings.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

There Arose a Reasoning Among Them . . .

Bonhoeffer & his students


In every community of faith and learning there come times of conflict.  Conflicts arise because these communities are composed of humans who are finite and fallen.  At every university where I've taught over the past sixteen years there have been conflicts – conflicts between students and faculty members; between faculty and fellow faculty; and between faculty and university administration.  

A university is in many respects like all other human communities that experience conflict from within among its members.  Universities founded upon a common faith are no less prone to experience conflicts since like every church fellowship since such a university is made-up of humans.  So it should come as no surprise that a Christian university, especially one that is in its early years of growth and development, would experience conflict between some of its faculty and its administrative leaders.

Brother Bonhoeffer knew the reality of conflict from within a fellowship.  During his days leading the Confessing Church’s seminary at Finkenwalde, he experienced it.  When he wrote about this experiment in Christian community in his little book Life Together, he began the fourth chapter with this warning:

“'There arose a reasoning among them, which of them would be the greatest’ (Luke 9:46). We know who it is that sows this thought in the Christian community.  But perhaps we do not bear in mind enough that no Christian community ever comes together without this thought immediately emerging as a seed of discord.  Thus at the very beginning of Christian fellowship there is engendered an invisible, often unconscious, life-and-death contest.  ‘There arose a reasoning among them’; this is enough to destroy a fellowship” (90).

Bonhoeffer’s insight exposes the root cause for many, if not most, of these conflicts in our communities.  It is the human desire for greatness or ascendancy over others.  He continues, “It is vitally necessary that every Christian community from the very outset face this dangerous enemy squarely, and eradicate it.  There is not time to lose here, for from the first moment when a man meets another person he is looking for a strategic position he can assume and hold over against that person.”

Bethge & Bonhoeffer - student & teacher

“There are strong persons and weak ones.  If a man is not strong, he immediately claims the right of the weak as his own and uses it against the strong.  There are gifted and ungifted persons, simple people and difficult people, devout and less devout, the sociable and the solitary.  Does not the ungifted person have to take up a position just as well as the gifted person, the difficult one as well as the simple? . . . Where is there a person who does not with instinctive sureness find the spot where he can stand and defend himself, but which he will never give up to another, for which he will fight with all the drive of his instinct of self-assertion?”

“All this can occur in the most polite or even pious environment.  But the important thing is that a Christian community should know that somewhere in it there will certainly be ‘a reasoning among them, which of them would be the greatest.’ It is the struggle of the natural man for self-justification. He finds it only in comparing himself with others, in condemning and judging others.  Self-justification and judging others go together, as justification by grace and serving others go together “ (91).

If this then is indeed the case, how may members of a community who are presently experiencing such conflict eradicate it?  Bonhoeffer offers a potential path in the remainder of his chapter.  There he addresses seven “ministries” that we owe to one another in community.   Each bears upon me and my colleagues here at Handong if we would be peacemakers and ones who are committed to the growth of our community of learning into wholeness and mutual blessing that flows to all.

Those within our Handong community who would advance and seek to protect  the students’ “right to learn” owe the ministries Bonhoeffer commends to professors, students and fellow administrators.   Those, on the other hand, who uphold and see to maintain the professors’ “right to teach” likewise owe these ministries to all others within the community of learning.

Rather than dispute over issues of control and authority, the ministries that Bonhoeffer teaches us to engage express avenues of service that lead toward mutual edification and the ultimate achievement of the goal of our community – the forming of whole persons who act responsibly in the service of others according to God’s calling upon their lives.
The first of these ministries, as Bonhoeffer describes them, is “the ministry of holding one’s tongue.”  “Often we combat our evil thoughts most effectively if we absolutely refuse to allow them to be expressed in words” (91).    We are admonished in Scripture to be “slow to speak” (James 1:19), so we would do well to hold our tongue and think thoroughly we express comments, especially when they are criticisms of others.

Bonhoeffer advises that “where this discipline of the tongue is practiced right from the beginning, each individual will make a matchless discovery.  He will be able to cease from constantly scrutinizing the other person, judging him, condemning him, putting him in his particular place where he can gain ascendancy over him and thus doing violence to him as a person.  Now he can allow the brother to exist as a completely free person, as God made him to be” (92-93).

The second ministry is meekness. “He who would learn to serve must first learn to think little of himself” (94).  This is not self-loathing, but rather a proper view of self.  “Only he who lives by the forgiveness of his sin in Jesus Christ will rightly think little of himself” (95).  Such a perspective, Bonhoeffer acknowledges, leads to a challenging conclusion: “To forego self-conceit and to associate with the lowly means . . . to consider oneself the greatest of sinners. . . If my sinfulness appears to me to be in any way smaller or less detestable in comparison with the sins of others, I am still not recognizing my sinfulness at all. . .  He who would serve his brother in the fellowship must sink all the way down to these depths of humility” (96).  

Holding one’s tongue and meekness lead naturally to the third ministry we owe one another in community – that of listening. “Just as love to God begins with listening to His Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren [i.e. for others] is learning to listen to them” (97). To be an effective listener, though, is a skill we must be devoted to developing. Our tendency is merely to “wait to talk” when in conversation with others. What we need to be doing is authentic listening. Bonhoeffer warns that “he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either; he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God” (98). 

By listening we are enabled to understand the needs of others and so reach out to them with the ministry of helpfulness. “This means, initially, simple assistance in trifling, external matters . . . Nobody is too good for the meanest (i.e. lowest) service. One who worries about the loss of time that such petty, outward acts of helpfulness entail is usually taking the importance of his own career too solemnly” (99).  

The next service we owe is the ministry of bearing. “’Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ’ (Gal. 6:2). . . Bearing means forbearing and sustaining. . . The Christian . . . must bear the burden of a brother. He must suffer and endure the brother. It is only when he is a burden that another person is really a brother and not merely an object to be manipulated” (100). As we extend this service, Bonhoeffer calls us to bear both the freedom of the other person as well as his sin through regularly practicing forgiveness. 

The thoughtful engagement of these first five ministries – holding one’s tongue, meekness, listening, helpfulness and bearing – provides the only sure foundation for the next – the ministry of proclaiming the Word. This ministry is not the “preaching of the Word” but rather “that unique situation in which one person bears witness in human words to another person, bespeaking the whole consolation of God, the admonition, the kindness, and the severity of God” (103-104). “We speak to one another on the basis of the help we both need. We admonish one another to go the way that Christ bids us to go. We warn one another against the disobedience that is our common destruction” (106).  

Bonhoeffer concludes with the ultimate service we owe -- the ministry of authority. This ministry, however, can only be exercised by those who have first fulfilled the all that come before it because “Jesus made authority in the fellowship dependent upon brotherly service” (108). “Every cult of personality that emphasizes the distinguished qualities, virtues, and talents of another person, even though these be of an altogether spiritual nature, is worldly and has no place in the Christian community . . . The Church does not need brilliant personalities but faithful servants of Jesus and the brethren” (108-109).  

Indeed, no community of faith, no community of learning, needs brilliant personalities. What we need are faithful followers of Christ who seek daily, by His grace, to serve one another according to the call of God. What is needed to eradicate the attitudes and actions that destroy our community of learning are men and women possessed with the mind of Christ that seeks not their own interests and rights but those of others. Such an approach to sustaining our community of learning and faith will not pit the right to learn against the right to teach. Rather, it will serve others by taking seriously the responsibility to teach and the responsibility to learn as we seek together to obey the call of Christ and serve the needs of others in the here and now.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Living to Teach Rather Than Teaching to Live

As I have been pondering the possibility of returning to teach at Handong University in Korea, I have been revisiting the Analects of Confucius.  One in particular is especially applicable to anyone who senses that the calling upon their life is a call to teach.

Of his own role as a teacher, Confucius said, "For anyone who brings even the smallest token of appreciation, I have yet to refuse instruction."



This responsibility to the one seeking instruction was again impressed upon me when I read this morning these verses in The Wisdom of Solomon: "The beginning of wisdom is the most sincere desire for instruction, and concern for instruction is love of her."  So when one is met with a request from those who are sincerely seeking instruction, the one who has a call to teach must give the most deliberate consideration to responding.


This type of thinking challenges me to confront the question:  Do you teach to live or do you live to teach?  Another way to put the question would be to examine whether I am accept the offer to teach primarily and principally as a means to make a living, or do I view the opportunity to teach as an open door through which God is directing me to proceed in faith depending upon him and him alone to provide for my earthly needs?


Am I taking no thought for tomorrow, anxious over what I will eat or where I will live or how I will be clothed?  Am I willing to follow on trusting the one who is my Guide, not only to make the way clear, but also to provide all that will be needed for me to progress along that way?  Here Bonhoeffer instructs: "The only way to win assurance is by leaving to-morrow entirely in the hands of God and by receiving from him all we need for to-day" (Discipleship, 178).