MY JOURNEY TO THE NEW TESTAMENT CHURCH ESTABLISHED BY JESUS CHRIST

A Son of the Reformation Enters the “Mighty Fortress” of the Orthodox Church

The Reverend Thomas L. Palke

September 8, 1999

The Feast of the Nativity of the Theotokos

For the last seventeen years of my life, I have had the privilege of serving as a pastor in the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. But after much reading, discussion, thought, and observation, I have come to believe that the Orthodox Church is the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church that is referred to in the Nicene Creed. To confess the Nicene Creed was to adhere to the Orthodox Church and the plenitude of its structure. I believe that this Church was established by Christ, endowed by the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, and instructed by the apostles. This is the Church that discerned the prophetic and apostolic writings that were God-breathed (2 Timothy 3:16) through use of the rule of faith that was imparted by the apostles and verbally transmitted by bishops in true apostolic succession. This is the Church that has preserved and taught the faith of the apostles in the creeds, decrees, and canons of the Seven Ecumenical Councils. It has been the “pillar and groundwork of the truth” and has remained such through centuries of isolation and persecution. This is the Church that is obsessed with Truth--Truth that is conveyed in doctrine, liturgy, spirituality, canons, iconography, hymnody, and apostolic succession. This is the Church that I, a son of the Reformation, humbly seek to enter. And while I am grateful for the many vital truths I came to know in the house of Lutheranism, my family and I are compelled, for the sake of truth and our salvation, to enter the “mighty fortress” of Orthodoxy.

My journey to the Orthodox Church has taken forty-nine years. It involved living in two major theological houses, Baptist and Lutheran, before finding my home in the Orthodox Church.

For the first twenty-one years of my life, I lived in the house of the General Association of Regular Baptist Churches (GARBC), a fundamentalist breakaway from the old Northern Baptist Convention. Raised by devout Christian parents, I found my life revolving around the church: morning worship, Sunday School, “Jet Cadets,” evening worship, Wednesday prayer meeting, Stockaders, and a host of other church activities. Though I never knew a time when I did not believe in Jesus, one Sunday evening I felt compelled to “come forward” and accept Christ as my Savior. I was afraid of dying without Jesus. So, I “got saved” the only way that I thought a person could be saved--by walking forward during an altar call. Not long after that, I was baptized by single immersion as an act of my obedience to Christ. Believe it or not, I couldn't tell you the exact date of my baptism. I never received a certificate. I'm not sure whether this was intentional or not, but I suspect it was. After all, we were told that we “couldn't depend on baptism to get us into heaven.”

During my years as a Baptist, I grew in my love of Christ and His Word. I remember marking my Bible with notes from classes and sermons (this also helped occupy me during many a long sermon). I also enjoyed winning prizes for bringing the most visitors and memorizing the most Scripture. During this time, I also attended a Brethren day school, where I learned a good deal of Bible, not to mention dispensational theology. And yet, in this environment, I still had some doubts. Had I been sincere enough when I came forward for the altar call? I later came forward again and re-invited Jesus into my heart, just in case the first time hadn't “taken.”

I remember monthly communion services with grape juice and pieces of bread that looked like Chicklets Gum that were passed to us in the pews. I don't recall Communion with any particular fondness. We were told to concentrate on Jesus and his death. Why couldn't we do that during the sermon or some other part of the service, I wondered? Sometimes the pastor told us not to partake if we were not “right with God.” And because I did not always have feelings of piety when Communion was offered, I occasionally chose not to participate. I now realize why Communion never meant that much to me: Communion was something that seemed to depend more on my level of spirituality than on any blessing the Lord might convey. While I heard a lot about grace and forgiveness, I never understood how these things were appropriated to me. I felt some reassurance when we were told that we could never fall from grace (The idea that God puts you on the "start line," which also happens to be the "finish line.") After Communion, we always held hands and sang "Blest Be the Tie that Binds." I never cared for that part of the service, except for the few occasions when I would be sitting next to an attractive young lady. The service always ended with an “altar call,” the one “liturgical requirement” in an otherwise “free service.”

The final recollection of my experience as a Baptist was the severity of its beliefs and practices. We were warned of liberals and apostates in the mainline denominations. We even regarded Billy Graham with suspicion. The church's “forbidden list” included smoking, drinking, dancing, card playing, and theater. I even remember occasions where the length of women’s skirts was checked in church! Honestly, I found it difficult to sing “Amazing Grace” in such an environment! All of this legalism led to a great deal of hypocrisy. Members of the Youth Group got a kick out of smuggling cigarettes and beer on youth retreats and outings. I still remember my mother's frantic voice when she spotted the pastor walking toward the house for a surprise visit: “Hide the beer, the pastor's coming.”

At the age of twenty-one I became a Lutheran, to the utter disbelief of my Baptist pastor and friends. I didn't become a Lutheran because Luther drank beer while discussing theology at Wittenberg, although I did appreciate the Lutheran perspective on the difference between Baptists and Lutherans--that is, Lutherans drink their beer with the shades open while Baptists drink with the shades closed. I'm sure my conversion to Lutheranism was the subject of many of their Wednesday evening prayer meetings. After all, we had been taught that, because of all the “hocus pocus” and “works righteousness” of Catholicism, most Catholics already had one foot in hell. And since the Lutherans were “just like the Catholics,” we were only one step further behind on the way to perdition.

My entry into the Lutheran “house” began one day, while I was browsing at the UCLA Student Bookstore. I picked up a paperback entitled Luther by John Dillenberger. Since it was a used book, it was in my price range. I was curious about this man named Luther. Baptists generally admired Luther for his courageous stand against the abuses of the Medieval Church. But they also said, “Luther is fine as far as he goes; he simply didn't go far enough.” My mother had been raised as a Lutheran. When she came to America from East Prussia and married my father, she became a Baptist to “keep peace in the family.” Meanwhile, most of her side of the family remained Lutheran after they came to America. So, I wanted to find out more about this man and the church named after him. I read with an open mind and liked what I read. But there were two major “fences” I would have to scale before I could give any serious consideration to Lutheranism: infant baptism and the Real Presence of Christ in Holy Communion.

Actually, the issue of the Real Presence of Christ was resolved in my mind fairly quickly. I had always been taught to read the Bible literally. Was there any reason not to accept the literal meaning of Christ's words of institution? I Corinthians 11 spelled it out clearly: whoever eats and drinks in an unworthy manner is guilty of the body and blood of Christ. Those Corinthians who had abused the Lord's Supper did not die because they abused mere bread and wine. Luther alluded to the universal belief of the Church in the Real Presence throughout the ages. Even unbelievers knew what Christians believed about the Lord's Supper in the early Church. They knew that Christians spoke of “eating Christ's flesh and drinking his blood” and, in their rationalistic mindset, accused the Christians of cannibalism.

Infant baptism was a little more difficult to handle. It wasn't until Luther directed me to passages such as Acts 2:38,39 and I Peter 3:21 that I began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. I had never seen I Peter 3:21 (“baptism saves”) before. If baptism were an “act of obedience” (a good work), how could it “save”? I had been taught that we were saved by grace and not by our works. It also occurred to me that the “age of accountability,” so often used in Baptist circles, had no biblical basis whatsoever. If “all have sinned” applies to all, then why shouldn't “baptize all nations” apply to all--infant as well as adult? Ultimately, Luther helped me see that baptism is God's work of grace for us. He showed me that baptism is God's “washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit”(Titus 3:5). And, the unanimous practice of the ancient Church helped to settle the matter.

So, I “ate some crow” and moved from the radical Reformation into the house of the conservative Reformation known as Lutheranism. For the first time in my life I experienced worship that was reverent, even though it took a while to learn the liturgy. I had been suffering from a severe case of worship malnutrition that stemmed from years of lecture-hall meetings in auditoriums and a plethora of rousing choruses. I soon grew to appreciate the liturgy of the church. It taught me the faith as it taught me to pray. I came to realize that every church has a liturgy, for better or worse. The question is, of course, whose liturgy is it? Is it something the pastor “cooked up” during the week, or is it the time-tested, biblically-based, liturgy of the church? The liturgy also gave me a sense of connectedness with believers who now comprised the Church Triumphant.

Unfortunately, my growing appreciation of the liturgy came at a time when the pastors felt obliged to dismantle it rubric by rubric. I belonged to the largest American Lutheran Church (ALC) congregation in Southern California. The senior pastor of the church was “gung ho” about the Church Growth Movement (CGM). His formula was quite simple: less liturgy; more rousing, contemporary ditties. This coincided with a significant charismatic movement in the parish. There were occasional “altar calls” (something unheard of in Lutheran circles because of their inconsistency with Lutheran soteriology). I did not join the Lutheran Church in order to belong to a church that was trying to rebuild according to the architecture and exterior colors of the Baptist house from which I had come!

After receiving my MBA and going on active duty in the Army, I joined a Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod (LCMS) congregation in Indianapolis. Finally, I had found a congregation where the worship was rich and edifying. Based on that experience, I knew that the LCMS was where I would settle. I knew that the ALC and the Lutheran Church in America (LCA) were heading in what seemed to me to be a more liberal direction. Their seminaries seemed to have bought into the higher critical methods of biblical scholarship. The ordination of women to the Holy Ministry was on the near horizon. At this time (1975) the LCMS had experienced a walkout of major proportions at its Concordia Seminary in St. Louis. Questions concerning what was being taught at the seminary were raised. At issue, aside from all the political strife, was the appropriateness of the use of the higher critical theories of the Bible. Questions were raised concerning the issue of biblical inerrancy. Most of the faculty and students, plus other sympathetic pastors and congregations left the LCMS and formed the Association of Evangelical Lutheran Churches (AELC). In general the leaders of this group were of strong confessional and liturgical orientation; however, they desired more academic freedom and were much more ecumenically- minded than the tradition of the LCMS would permit. Eventually, the AELC would merge with the ALC and the LCA to form the present Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), the largest Lutheran body in America. Ultimately, I chose to join the LCMS because of its conservative position on the Bible, its seeming adherence to the Book of Concord (the collection of the confessional writings of Lutheranism). It would only later occur to me that the Lutheran denunciation of Holy Tradition failed to recognize that it had a "holy tradition" of its own--the Book of Concord!

In 1978, after serving a tour of duty in the Army, and while working for a major corporation, I learned of a clergy shortage that was afflicting the LCMS. I felt that the Lord was moving me to prepare for the Office of the Ministry. I entered Concordia Theological Seminary, Ft. Wayne, Indiana, in the Fall of 1978. During my four years of seminary training, I received an excellent theological education, from both a theoretical as well as practical standpoint. And the worship and music was, without doubt, of the highest caliber in the Lutheran tradition. In retrospect the worship that I experienced at seminary established in my mind an ideal that ultimately only the Orthodox liturgy could fulfill. During my seminary days, the Orthodox Church was the farthest thing from my mind. I recall that two brief lecture sessions were devoted to the Eastern Orthodox Church in a fourth-year class entitled "Religious Bodies in America." It was new material for most of us. But we weren't really interested, due to the lack of Orthodox presence in America. We wanted more “dirt” on the Catholics so that we could do a better job of bashing them. We wanted more information on the JWs, LDSers, and a host of new and challenging cults. I recall studying the christological controversies in our Christology dogmatics class. The Ecumenical Councils were discussed and many favorable comments were made by Professor Kurt Marquart with regard to Orthodox Christology. I read the Catalog of Testimonies that was appended to the Book of Concord, and read the testimony of the Church Fathers and the canons of the Ecumenical Councils, which underlay Lutheran Christology. Besides the required church history courses, I audited classes on patristics that were taught by Dr. William Weinrich. And, believe it or not, the seminary required only one class on worship! This was a strange phenomena, since the majority of our interaction with our congregations took place in worship. A handful of us, however, took electives in worship with Professor Daniel Reuning to broaden our understanding of the liturgy and hymnody of the church. Without doubt, the seminary was giving us a partial vision of the fullness of Orthodoxy. Frankly, I liked what I saw. I thought I was seeing the Lutheran house according to the blueprint of the Lutheran Confessions--an evangelical, catholic, confessional, and liturgical church!

After several years as a pastor in the LCMS, I began to wonder whether I was living in the right house. Here are some of the issues that I faced:

1) Identity crisis in Lutheranism--On the one hand, the Confessions portray an evangelical, catholic church. On the other hand, the life of the church appears to be broadly Protestant. Private confession and absolution, highly prized in the Confessions, would be the demise of any pastor foolhardy enough to institute it in his parish. The weekly Eucharist, a confessional norm in the Augsburg Confession (Article 24), is something that a few pastors have taken seriously and have been willing to take their lumps to establish. “That's too catholic” is the cry that is heard when the pastor elevates the host, chants the liturgy, wears a chasuble, makes the sign of the cross, has a Gospel Procession, uses incense, calls Mary the “ever-virgin, Mother of God”(things that Luther himself defended). Instead of returning to the historic episcopacy, Lutherans, who view the episcopacy as of human origin, have chosen, in general, a form of church government that is, at best presbyterial, and at worst, patterned after democratic, free-church congregationalism. Lutherans are very suspicious of human authority. After all, “synods, councils, and popes have erred,” as Luther asserted. Unfortunately, Lutherans cannot see the possibility of applying that aphorism to Luther and the other Reformers. The trends in worship over the past few years in the LCMS seem to be following the pattern of “less liturgy; more rousing choruses.” People cannot do without “patriotic icons,” such as American flags, but try putting a religious icon in the sanctuary and watch the sparks fly! Flowers in church are a necessity, but try using incense and you'll get the coals dumped on your head, regardless of what Malachi 1:11 says or what goes on in heaven (Revelation 8:3)!

2) The Church Growth Movement--This has become such a significant movement in the LCMS, emphasizing "proven techniques,” that, if implemented, was supposed to create the right climate for numerical growth in the congregation. So many of our synod and district officials, as well as pastors, have been influenced by this movement that emanates primarily from Fuller Seminary in Pasadena, California, that some of us facetiously referred to Fuller Seminary as “the third seminary of the LCMS.” The CGM has turned the church into a mass-marketing business, pandering to the “felt needs” of a gaggle of church-shoppers. Let's be frank, I want to be faithful to our Lord's Great Commission (Matthew 28:19). I pray that all may be saved and come to the knowledge of our Savior. And I'm all for doing everything possible to make the Gospel accessible to all. Recommendations by “church growth gurus” for shorter services, less frequent Eucharists, less liturgy, more contemporary “praise services,” may bring in bigger numbers, but these things will never build a qualitative faith that will last over the long haul. The CGM may call for evangelical style, but it ultimately devalues theological substance.

3) Lack of Unity--One only needs look at world Lutheranism to note a general lack of unity among Lutherans in general. In America the LCMS does not share in eucharistic fellowship with ELCA. The Wisconsin Synod does not commune members of ELCA or the LCMS. The percentage of confessional Lutherans is less than 10% of all Lutherans in the world. And in the LCMS, which has always prided itself on its strong sense of doctrinal solidarity, is no longer a cohesive church body. The Charismatic Movement, once considered incompatible with Lutheran theology, is openly practiced in the Synod. Unionism (worship and inter-communion with denominations not in doctrinal fellowship), though thoroughly rejected in the constitution of the LCMS, is widely practiced. I recall writing a district official about a widely-publicized, regularly held service of inter-communion in which many of the LCMS clergy participated. His response was that these clergy were following the long-standing traditions of their congregations, whose Voters Assemblies had chosen to participate for reasons of “expediency.” I then wrote to the synodical president, who in turn referred the matter back to the district president. After talking to some pastors who participated, they sloughed off any responsibility by assuring their Voters' Assemblies that the Synod was “merely an advisory body.” Many Missouri Synod Lutherans do not even consider their synod a “church.” They claim that a “synod” is not a church and equate “church” with the local congregation. This sort of thinking and practice is the downfall of Lutheranism. Because it has rejected the historic episcopate and the responsibility that bishops bear, and has chosen democratically fashioned polity, it's only a matter of time until Voters' Assemblies vote heresy into their congregations. After all, in the LCMS, the authority resides in the congregation, and is exercised by the Voters' Assembly, of which the pastor is merely one of many members. What a contrast to the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15, where Bishop James pronounces the apostolic consensus achieved through the guidance of the Holy Spirit! What a contrast to the Ecumenical Councils where conciliar authority of the Church was exercised!

4) Increasing Liturgical Chaos--There are three worship books in use in the LCMS today--The Lutheran Hymnal (the "old hymnal"), the Lutheran Book of Worship (used in ELCA, but rejected by the LCMS at a former convention), and Lutheran Worship (Missouri's new, official hymnal). But, a recent survey also indicated that 11 % of LCMS congregations use none of the above hymnals. Many congregations who use one of the three hymnals use little or none of the liturgical settings contained therein. Regarding music and hymnody, it shouldn't surprise anyone that the great hymns of the church are being replaced by contemporary music that is often theologically suspect. The “church growth” model that is held up for Lutherans to emulate is The Community of Joy, an ELCA congregation in Arizona. This rapidly-growing congregation, the subject of many church growth studies, employs lively music accompanied by instrumentalists in an atmosphere that might even compete with Jay Leno (“church should be fun” is its motto). But anyone who has studied Lutheranism will see in this phenomenon history repeating itself. In the early 1800s men such as Schmucker and Kurtz lead a major movement to transform the Lutheran Church into a general Protestant church. They supported the "Definite Platform," designed to rid the Augsburg Confession of certain articles that were "too catholic." Along with this, they promoted "new measures" that would develop Lutheran worship according to the pattern of Protestant revivalism.

There are a small number of faithful, confessional pastors who believe in the principle lex orandi lex credendi (the rule of prayer is the rule of faith) and lead their congregations in a substantive ministry of Word and Sacrament. However, since Lutheranism regards liturgy as an adiaphoron, something neither commanded nor forbidden by God, many regard this as a license to do what is expedient and has mass-marketing appeal. Others castrate the liturgy under the pretext that the liturgy is a hindrance to first-time visitors in church and to evangelism in general. The confessional writings of Lutheranism generally grant freedom to churches in matters liturgical, so long as they agree in all the articles of faith (Formula of Concord, Article X). And herein lies the problem: worship appears to be disconnected from the faith. Instead of seeing worship as the faith of the church in action, Lutherans, like most Western Christians, tend to reduce the faith to mere intellectual assent. Instead of seeing music, liturgy, and art as bearers of the faith, Lutherans tend to view these things as aesthetic embellishments that establish the proper atmosphere for hearing the sermon, which itself is usually filled with many comedic and illustrative embellishments that are intended to enhance the Gospel!

5) Crisis in the Ministry--Over twenty years ago ELCA began to ordain women pastors. Despite the protests of a minority of faithful clergy and laity, ELCA thumbed its nose at over 1900 years of church tradition in this matter. It was convenient to claim “Scripture, not tradition” by those supporting women's ordination. But a fair number of those holding this view also did not accept Holy Scripture as completely reliable and without error. For some, St. Paul was a “male chauvinist pig.” For others, since the Bible didn't say, “You shall not ordain women pastors,” this meant that it was acceptable to ordain women. For others, Galatians 3:28 (“There is neither male nor female....”) became the only verse in the Bible. Frankly, feminism made its impact in many churches at this time. The rebellion of the 60s was to find its way into the churches of America. And the Missouri Synod was not immune, either. For the LCMS, the path that is leading to the eventual ordination of women, has been patiently forged since the sixties. It began with female acolytes, then extended to women readers/lectors, “elders” (those who, in terms of LCMS tradition, assist the pastor in his functions), and congregational presidents. Though not a common phenomenon, it is not unusual to see women preaching and assisting in the distribution of the Eucharist. Surveys in the LCMS have shown that as many as 40% of the clergy feel that the Bible does not prohibit the ordination of women. But the ordination of women is, in fact, only a symptom of a larger problem. Today, the LCMS is embarking on a “lay ministry” program that has already undermined the Office of the Ministry. This “lay ministry” program, supported by the Synod in a recent convention, allows laymen, with minimal training to perform many functions of the pastoral office. The LCMS decided it wanted to start 900 new churches in the next few years. Since the seminaries cannot produce enough pastors for this, the LCMS will train laymen and use them as “ministers.” This concept of “lay minister” is not only a contradiction in terms, but has no support in the Confessions. Yet, in the interest of “church growth,” the LCMS is sacrificing its doctrine of the Holy Ministry. Actually, there are many in the LCMS who hold to a “functionalist” view of the ministry--that is, if someone performs the distinctive functions of the ministry, then that person is to be considered a pastor. That is why I contend that the LCMS already has women pastors, since the roster of lay ministers includes women. Also, parochial school teachers in the LCMS are classified as “Ministers of Religion--Commissioned,” and enjoy the same tax privileges as its pastors. How can all this be happening in the “conservative” LCMS? The answer may be found in the Confessions. Article 7 of the Augsburg Confession indicates that the unity of the church is based on the pure preaching of the Gospel and the administration of the Sacraments in accordance with Christ's institution. But nothing is mentioned about the Ministry! I'm sure there are women pastors in ELCA that preach the Gospel and faithfully administer the Sacraments. I'm convinced that Luther, in his zeal to combat the ungodly practices of his day and the Roman concept of the “indelible character” of the priesthood, tended to emphasize the functions of the ministry more than the nature of the pastoral office itself. And because Luther couldn't get any bishops to ordain his “evangelical” pastors, he resorted to presbyterial ordination. Lutheranism has remained in this exceptional context instead of returning to the historic episcopate. Another key to the Lutheran confusion on the ministry is that it does not regard ordination as a divine rite. It completely disregards the apostolic laying on of hands in the book of Acts, and refuses to confess that the Holy Spirit confers the gift of the Ministry, in spite of the clear words of St. Paul to Timothy (“do not neglect the gift that was given you through the laying on of hands by the presbytery”). Regarding the three-fold hierarchy of the ministry (deacon, priest, and bishop), Scandinavian Lutherans have usually maintained this hierarchy. Bishops and Deacons, according to the Confessions, exist by human right. Lutherans accept only one Office of Ministry-that of pastor. Lutherans claim that “bishop” and “elder” are used interchangeably and refer to one office. Forced by Reformation exigencies, Lutherans have forsaken the three offices mentioned in the Pastoral Epistles. A reading of Ignatius of Antioch shows the relationship of these three distinctive offices in the universal Church. With all respect to Luther, I will accept the testimony of one instructed by the Apostle John over someone 1500 years later! The Bible clearly shows that these offices existed and the early Church Fathers show the nature, function, and relationship of these offices. Regarding apostolic succession, Lutherans reject the traditional notion of apostolic succession, preferring to claim that the true apostolic succession is the correct transmission of the message from age to age. But they refuse to acknowledge the necessity of the bishop’s ontological relationship with the apostles and Jesus Christ. The argument was sometimes given that apostolic succession was not a guarantor or orthodoxy. Using that line of argument, we should eliminate the pastoral office entirely because some pastors have preached false doctrine. Apostolic succession connects the clergy with the apostles and their doctrine and ultimately with the Lord, who ordained the apostles in the first place! However, as I see it, Lutheranism not only does not have apostolic succession but also is in danger of losing the message itself.

6) Lack of discipline--The only discipline that seems to be going on in the LCMS is carried out against pastors who boldly take stands for right teaching and practice. Confessional, liturgically-minded pastors are sometimes harassed and isolated by denominational bureaucrats.

Within the last couple of years, the “firing” of pastors has become a phenomenon. Formerly, pastors received “calls” to congregations that knew no term limitation. The only reason for a congregation to terminate a pastor's call was false doctrine, ungodly lifestyle, or dereliction of duty. Today, if a majority of members of the Voters' Assembly are opposed to the pastor, even if he is faithfully carrying out synodical practices, he may be “fired.” On the other hand, let's say that a member of the parish were living in open adultery. After receiving counseling from the pastor and elders, this individual refused to repent, that individual cannot be excommunicated unless the case is brought before the Voters' Assembly and a totally unanimous vote is received. Believe it or not, if the individual in question were a member of the Voters' Assembly, he would be able to vote on his own behalf. Instead of “tell it to the Church” (Matthew 18), we have added to Scripture by, in fact, saying, “tell it to the Church, and if it votes unanimously, let him be unto you a heathen.” This position is in conflict with the Confessions, which give the clergy the responsibility to exercise discipline. Godly discipline, for the purpose of restoring souls, is virtually non-existent in the Church. For example, I once dealt with member of my congregation who was living with a married man (a member of another LCMS parish) who had recently separated from his wife. After the woman refused to repent, I suspended her from the Sacrament until such time as she repented. She promptly "took her business” to another nearby LCMS congregation, where she was received as a member in good standing, despite the fact that I informed the pastor of the situation.

And, regarding the clergy itself, there are numerous cases of alcoholism, divorce, and other serious problems afflicting our clergy. Usually, if the pastor in question is on good terms with the District President, he is quietly moved to another district, with little or no counseling. The LCMS even permits divorced pastors and District Presidents (a counterpart to bishops in LCMS polity).

I could go on enumerating the decay and dry rot that I have discovered in my theological townhouse. I honestly sympathize even more with my “confessionally-minded” friends in ELCA. They are facing extremes of blatant denial of the Christian verities, modified liberation theology, a strong push for homosexual ordination, a push for inter-communion with Reformed churches, including the liberal United Church of Christ. What's a conscientious Lutheran to do, given these circumstances? Some say, stay and fight. But I'm convinced politics in the church is not the solution. I personally had to come to the realization that Lutheranism no longer chooses to consciously be what it was intended to be--a movement for reform in the West. And I still think that Lutheranism, as it is portrayed in its confessional portfolio is the best of the houses on the western side of the street. But Lutheranism has no sense of “holy tradition” that can keep its house intact. In five hundred years Lutheranism has changed. Some Lutheran townhouses are barely recognizable as “Lutheran” when compared to the blueprint of the Confessions. In fact Lutheranism changed radically shortly after Luther's death, with unchurchly, non-sacramental Pietism and the anti- supernatural Rationalism “gutting out” the structure. And so, given these changes, even in the conservative Missouri Synod, I had to ask myself--what sort of spiritual legacy would I leave to my children? Could I be sure they would find a conservative, confessional, liturgical church somewhere? Should I leave the Missouri Synod and join a more conservative group, such as the Wisconsin Synod? If Missouri's doctrine of the ministry is shaky, the Wisconsin Synod has an even lower view of the ministry! Romophobia still afflicts Wisconsin, which recently has also become enamored with the “church growth” movement. And, believe it or not, a recent news report indicated that Wisconsin has come out with a new, contemporary hymnal that contains “inclusive language.” It appears to me that Wisconsin is copying some of Missouri's rebuilding techniques. Or, I could join a new church body that may or may not be created when Missouri experiences another “walkout” by disaffected conservatives. This I can no longer do. This is because my experience with such “conservatives,” be they Baptist or Lutheran, is that they will later find another issue upon which to split. Their shibboleth is always “come out from among them and be ye separate.” Meanwhile, Christianity is fractured even more, in total disregard to our Lord's high priestly prayer that we be one in Him as He is in the Father (John 17). And, frankly, I no longer wish to belong to a church named after one man or one doctrine. My study of church history showed me that the church was larger than one person. If Lutherans were honest, they would have to admit that they have granted to Luther, in significant measure, what they refused to grant to the pope.

One day, while looking out of my “townhouse,” I observed a group of former evangelicals walk across the street to the East Side of the block. I was curious. Why would these people, from all the varieties of houses on the West Side of the street, be moving across the street? For awhile, they set up their house next to the castle that we had all admired from the outside but had never entered. This group called themselves the Evangelical Orthodox Church. I learned of this group from one of my parishioners. I was impressed with this group of thoughtful, dedicated Christians who were seeking the New Testament Church. Why hadn't they chosen the Lutheran or Episcopal “houses” for their residence? Why were they moving east? In 1987, while looking out my window, I saw this group of two thousand standing in front of their temporary structure, watching it being demolished. They proceeded to walk to the castle and humbly entered a structure that had been built by the Lord himself on the day of Pentecost. I looked at my townhouse and, with a heavy heart, noted the extensive renovations that would have to occur just to bring it “back to specs.” I couldn't understand it: my house was less than 500 years old, yet it was falling apart!

One day I decided to walk across the street and pay a visit to a former LCMS pastor who had taken up residence in the fortress on the east side. I wanted to know what could have possessed this man to leave a large parish, a comfortable lifestyle, and enter the Orthodox fortress as an unemployed layman. It didn't take long until I realized that we had a lot in common. We were dismayed by the lack of unity in Lutheranism. We cringed over the renovations that were occurring using blueprints drawn up by Protestant “church growth” consultants. We felt unfulfilled as “rallies, gatherings, and praise happenings” replaced worship. He showed me around the inside of the fortress. I felt as if I were in heaven itself. The worship was rich and full-bodied. Even though I didn't completely understand what was going on and felt awkward and uncomfortable at times, I knew I was entering a dimension in worship that I could never experience in the West. I soon came to meet a number of Orthodox ex-Lutherans, professors (such as Father Thomas Hopko, at St. Vladimir’s Seminary in New York), Fr. Peter Gillquist, and a number of clergy and laity. I was impressed by their experiences and the depth of their commitment to the mission of bringing America to the ancient, apostolic, Orthodox faith.

But my analytical mind had to be convinced. Surprisingly, few apologetic arguments were posited by my newly-found Orthodox friends. They simply said, “Come and see” regarding worship. But that was not enough for me. I began to read Ware's The Orthodox Church, Coniaris' Introducing the Orthodox Church, and Gillquist's Becoming Orthodox. And here is the suggestion that I would leave for any inquirer into Orthodoxy: read Orthodox materials. My scant knowledge of Orthodoxy had been based on a comparative religion book written by a Lutheran. Everything was written looking through Lutheran lenses. I had been seeing a distorted image; but not anymore!

As I had done prior to becoming Lutheran, I prayed that God would lead me into all truth. But now I had come to realize that my choice of Lutheranism in the past was based on criteria, such as infant baptism, the Real Presence of Christ in Holy Communion, and the truthfulness of the Bible, that I felt were important. Though these were weighty criteria, I now realize that I was doing what many do in searching for a church. They set up what I call “the Protestant grid.” Across the top of the page they list the particular doctrines they wish to consider. Going down the page, they list all the denominations they wish to consider. Then they get their Bibles, use their concordances, and footnotes, and place check marks in the appropriate squares for every denomination that teaches according to that individual's understanding of the doctrine in question. At the end of the exercise, the individual simply tallies up the check marks, and the denomination with the most check marks becomes the “preferred denomination.” If one chooses not to bother with this process, he can always opt for a “nondenominational church.” I have come to see the flaws in this process. The individual becomes the arbiter of truth. While Protestants so frequently lambaste the pope, they fail to see that they are simply replacing the pope with themselves, claiming that “all rights exist in the shrine of their hearts.” Underlying this issue is the whole matter of biblical interpretation. We know from Scripture itself that “Scripture is not a matter of private interpretation,” yet this goes on all too often on the western side of the street. Orthodoxy, on the other hand, comes as a complete package. There's no picking and choosing. You either accept the teaching, worship, spirituality, iconography, canons, etc. as a complete package (this is one of the essential definitions of the word “catholic”--completeness!) or you reject it. I choose to accept it all. And now I know what possessed the Evangelical Orthodox to become Orthodox: the Holy Spirit! I am not bitter about my stay in the Lutheran Church. On the contrary, I thank God that he brought me to a church located right across the street from the Orthodox fortress. Frankly, I'm much more impressed by these former Campus Crusaders, who had a lot further to go to get to Orthodoxy than Lutherans do. The Lord had already led me to an understanding of infant baptism, the real presence of Christ in the Sacraments, confession, a liturgical form of worship, and acceptance of Orthodox Christology, among other things, during my Lutheran residency. I finally said to myself: “if a para-church group can find the Orthodox Church and enter it, then anyone can!” Let me, then, briefly indicate some of the hurdles I faced in approaching Orthodoxy:

1) Sola Scriptura--Every October 31 (actually, the Sunday closest to it, since Lutherans generally do not come out in big numbers during the week), Lutherans celebrate the Reformation, with its motto: “Scripture alone, faith alone, grace alone.” Lutherans traditionally hold that Scripture is the only source and norm of doctrine. But a thoughtful approach to the classic passage “Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:21) indicates that the verbal message of the apostles and prophets also was “God-breathed.” It is interesting to note that Lutheran systematic theology books employ this passage as a “proof text” for the inspiration of Holy Scripture. Some of their spoken message was written, but much was not. St. John makes that quite clear at the end of his Gospel. And thoughtful Christians will come to see that the canon of Scripture was not determined until the fourth and fifth centuries. How did the Church recognize those books that were authentic, apostolic, and bore the seal of the Holy Spirit? The Orthodox Church had a “rule of faith” that had been orally transmitted by the apostles through their successors. In this way the Church was able to discern that which was truly apostolic. And then Paul's exhortation to “hold fast to the tradition, whether by word of mouth or by epistle,” indicated, most explicitly, the Orthodox understanding of Holy Tradition. Ultimately, I realized that even the Bible itself did not teach sola scriptura!

I asked myself: “If sola scriptura were of God, then why has it resulted in thousands upon thousands of denominations and sects?” How can denominations that claim the inerrancy and self-sufficiency of the Bible end up differing so significantly on its interpretation? Is the problem with the Bible? Absolutely not! “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.” This passage, frequently quoted in support of sola scriptura, does not support sola scriptura. It does indicate that all of Scripture is God-breathed. In this passage, Scripture refers to the Old Testament. All of the New Testament books had not yet been written when St. Paul wrote his second epistle to Timothy. If this passage sets the limits on divine revelation, then it would, logically, rule out the New Testament! One need only read the New Testament to observe that nonbiblical sources were employed (the magicians “Jannes and Jambres,” from 2 Timothy 3:8 come from oral tradition and the Epistle of Jude quotes from the a non-biblical source—the Book of Enoch).

Sola scriptura, in the view of Protestants, affirms the self-sufficiency of Scripture, apart from the Church and its oral tradition. Yet the Scriptures themselves imply an oral tradition in passages such as the following:

¹⁹ And so we have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts; ²⁰ knowing this first, that no prophecy of Scripture is of any private interpretation, ²¹ for prophecy never came by the will of man, but holy men of God spoke[emphasis mine] as they were moved by the Holy Spirit. (2 Peter 2:19-21)

¹⁵ Therefore, brethren, stand fast and hold the traditions which you were taught, whether by word or our epistle. (2 Thessalonians 2:15)

Often overlooked is the relationship between the Scriptures and the Church. The writers of Holy Scripture are members of the Church. The Church received the Scriptures. The Church also established the canon of Scripture, affirming the divine origin of those books included in the canon. The Church and, in particular, its teachers, are compelled to rightly interpret the contents of Scripture.

Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. (2 Timothy 2:15)

Is there a connection between the Word of God and the Church? The Scriptures speak of Jesus Christ as the Word (Logos) of God (see John 1:1). Jesus is the head of his body, the Church. There is clearly a relationship between the incarnate Word and the Church. The Church knows the voice of Good Shepherd. As a result, the Church also knows the voice of the Shepherd in the written Word.

¹³ These things I have written to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal life, and that you may continue to believe in the name of the Son of God. (I John 5:13)

Some of Christ words and deeds were written. Many other words and deeds were not.

³⁰ And truly Jesus did many other signs in the presence of His disciples, which are not written in this book; ³¹ but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name. (John 20:30,31)

The Lord speaks to the Church through his apostles. “He who listens to you listens to me; he who rejects you rejects me” (Luke 10:16). Christ affirms the Scriptures of the Old Testament as his Word of truth. “And beginning with Moses and the prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.” (Luke 24:27). And to the apostles (literally, those sent by Christ) Christ committed his message. In his high priestly prayer in John 17 Jesus prayed the following concerning the apostles:

For I gave them the words you gave me and they accepted them. (v. 8)

My prayer is not for them alone. I pray for those who will believe in me through their message. (V.20)

As Jesus was sent by the Father to bring salvation to mankind, Jesus sent his apostles to preach the Gospel and to impart the forgiveness of sins won by Christ on the cross.

“As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” (John 20:21) and “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.” (John 20:23).

The Church, in its infancy, is described in Acts 2:42 as continuing in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship. To believe the doctrine of the apostles was to believe in the doctrine of Christ. To be in the koinonia of the apostles was to be in fellowship with Christ. The doctrine of the apostles was not written. It was initially spoken. This doctrine is known as the rule of faith. This became the touchstone for the Church in its determination of those sacred writings that would be included in the canon of the New Testament. It also was known as the “deposit” that the apostles imparted to their successors. In this manner the Father sends Christ, who, in turn, sends the apostles, who, in turn, send their successors. In this way the man of God’s choosing is imparted with the fullness of the faith and is charged to teach it and preserve it undefiled.

Thus, the written word is an image (icon) of the incarnate Word, who is the head of the church, “which is his body, the fullness of Him who fills all things.” (Ephesians 1:23). The Scriptures cannot be separated from the Church any more than the Church from its head, Jesus Christ. Protestants, in general, perform a “Nestorian separation” of the Scriptures from the Church. Protestants also have redefined the Church to fit the schismatic realities of the Reformation. The Church has been defined by Protestants as an invisible conglomeration of “believers.” Based on that viewpoint, the only relationship between the Church and the Scriptures is the ability of individual believers to interpret its contents. And therein lies the cause of the proliferation of Protestant denominations and sects. On the other hand, the Orthodox Church understands itself to be the “One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church,” from whence the Holy Spirit conceived the written Word. This is also why the Orthodox Church regards St. Mary as the icon of the Church, since, through her, Jesus Christ was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit. The Church, entrusted once-for-all with the apostles’ doctrine (Jude 3)--the one, true faith (Ephesians 4:5)--was guided by the Holy Spirit, who leads into all truth (John 15), to recognize and determine those apostolic writings that were to be included in the New Testament canon. The Church was in place even before the first book of the New Testament was written. It was the divinely-established body to recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd in the writings of the evangelists and apostles.

Second, the Orthodox Church accepts the canonical books of the Scriptures as fully inspired, inerrant, and authoritative. However, the Orthodox Church recognizes, as the Scriptures indicate, that the Scriptures do not contain teaching on every subject of importance to the Church. Little information is given in the New Testament regarding the manner of worship. This has given the impression to some Protestants that the manner of worship is an unimportant matter. Yet, for the Orthodox, there is recognition that the very Church that handed down to us the Scriptures is also the Church that formulated creeds, canons, and the patterns of worship. Protestants accept the canon of Scripture established by the Church, yet feel justified in jettisoning her conciliar decisions, canons, and liturgy.

Our Protestant friends, who often assert that they “just go by the Bible,” conveniently ignore such clear examples from Scripture. In reality, I came to the conclusion that Protestants go by the Bible but that they also pass by many specific passages. I finally concluded that the Scriptures could not be interpreted on one’s own. They must be understood in the light of the Church’s teaching and experience. Every “church” has a tradition of its own. Protestants, who reject tradition and uphold the principle of sola scriptura, must admit that they interpret the Scriptures through the lens of their own doctrinal systems. Thus, ironically, the same Protestants who reject Tradition employ their own “tradition” in interpreting the Scriptures. In contrast the Orthodox Church does not separate the Scriptures from the Church and its Holy Tradition. After all, the Scriptures were given to the Church. This Church, which established the canon of Scripture, is completely equipped to interpret the Scripture. Ultimately, I concluded that I needed to be in the Church that Jesus established through the apostles, not only to receive the complete teaching of Christ and the apostles, but also to live and experience that teaching (we Orthodox use the term Holy Tradition to describe this). Because the Church is united to Christ, who promises to be with it until the end of time (Matthew 28:20) and entrusts it with Holy Tradition (the faith), of which the Scriptures are the chief component, the Church is rightly described by St. Paul as the “pillar and foundation of the truth” (I Timothy 3:15). For my family and me, this meant leaving Lutheranism and entering the Church.

Lutherans, in contrast to other Protestants, seem to be inconsistent in their approach to sola scriptura. On the one hand, they support the concept of sola scriptura, yet, on the other hand, rely heavily on their confessional writings as a form of tradition. In order to explain away this inconsistency, Lutherans admit that the Scriptures are the “norms that norm” and that the confessional writings are “norms that are normed.” The Lutherans who corresponded with Patriarch Jeremias II of Constantinople indicated that the Scriptures were self-sufficient and clear “so that even the most simple person can understand them.” Yet, a cursory reading of the Lutheran Confessions will reveal appeals to patristic sources. It finally occurred to me that the Confessions employed patristic sources on a selective basis. For example, they utilized the Orthodox objections to the primacy of the pope. When they espoused unique teaching, the teachings of the Fathers were silenced in favor of the opinions of the theologian(s). In Luther’s forensic understanding of justification, a lack of patristic evidence is strangely apparent. In reacting to Roman abuses of Holy Tradition, Luther may have forgotten to ask whether his teaching had been taught “everywhere, always, and by all (see the rule of St. Vincent of Lerins)” This selective use of the Fathers has also given rise to the priority of human reason. Luther, at the Diet of Worms, stood by his own teachings, unless persuaded otherwise by Scripture and reason. The use of reason has been elevated to such an extent that it has led countless numbers of Lutheran scholars of the past century to reject many of the essential doctrines of Scripture, and even to reject the inspiration of the Scriptures themselves. Thus, for much of Lutheranism today, the very foundation of its faith has been questioned and even rejected. Without the Church and its holy tradition, Lutheranism, in varying degrees, will continue to flounder in the wake of mainstream Protestantism.

2) The Filioque--Since I began my study of church history, I had a difficult time understanding why the Orthodox did not include the phrase “and the Son” with regard to the Holy Spirit's procession from the Father. This simply was not an issue that was addressed at seminary with any degree of importance. Since Christ sent the Holy Spirit in time and space to the Church, we simply projected back to eternity, asserting that the Holy Spirits proceeds "from the Father and the Son." And yet, the only Scripture that deals with this issue is John 15:26, where the Spirit is described as proceeding from the Father. And this is precisely the way that the Second Ecumenical Council worded the Nicene Creed. With the rise of the papacy and the Arian heresy posing a major challenge in the West, the filioque began to be added to the Creed until it ultimately received papal acceptance. Why didn't Luther deal with this issue? He had his hands full with indulgences, merits of the saints, and other obvious abuses in Western Catholicism. Lutheranism must be seen as a movement of reform in the West. It would hold on to a maximum of western tradition that did not conflict with the Gospel. That's why Lutherans use a westernized form of the liturgy and the Creed with filioque. But on the issue of the filioque, I am convinced of the truthfulness of the Orthodox position. The Orthodox position is not only biblical, but undergirds the truth that the Father is the source of the Holy Trinity. In the fullness of time the Father sends Jesus, who is begotten of the Father from eternity. Likewise, the Spirit is sent in time, but proceeds from the Father in eternity. Attached to this issue is the question of who has the authority to alter the decrees of Ecumenical Councils. Orthodoxy would say that no one man, be he pope or layman, may alter the Church's decrees. Any addition to the Creed must be made by the whole Church, gathered under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Put simply, the filioque turns upside down the Church's teaching of the eternal relation of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, so that, instead of the Orthodox position, symbolized as follows,

Father

Son Holy Spirit

The Western teaching becomes as follows:

Father Son

Holy Spirit

As one can see in the western scheme, the Spirit seems to be given secondary status. I'm convinced that this imbalance resulted in a perceived need that the charismatic movement attempted to fill in Protestant and Catholic churches. The Orthodox Church has always had a rich doctrine of the Holy Spirit, whose work is replete in the sacramental and spiritual life of the Church.

3) Infant Communion--I had always wondered why we baptized infants, bringing them to spiritual life in God's Kingdom, but withheld spiritual food from them until they reached some mythical “age of accountability.” It's a lot like watching the birth of a baby with the intention of withholding food from the child until it is able to distinguish between peas and carrots. It had occurred to me that children had participated fully in the life of the Old Covenant, including circumcision and partaking of the Passover meal. And from a liturgical point of view, I knew that the early Church baptized, chrismated, and communed the catechumens in a discernible, inter-connected sequence of sacramental actions. If John 3:5 indicates the necessity of the new birth by water and the Spirit (baptism and chrismation), then John 6:53 (“unless a man eat my flesh and drink my blood he has no live abiding in him”) is equally clear in asserting the necessity of the Eucharist. And if children belong to the Kingdom, should they be denied the banquet table of the Kingdom? I'm not ignoring Paul's exhortation to examine oneself, which the Orthodox fulfill in sacramental confession. But shall we withhold the Sacrament from those who are not capable of self-examination, such as the retarded or the senile? I finally came to the realization that we had been turning faith into a rational act of the mind rather than trust. And I then realized that if we were consistent in our interpretation of Scripture, we would end up denying infant baptism for the same reasons that we deny infant communion. There is only one class of Christian in the Church--those who are baptized (the Easter experience), sealed with the Holy Spirit (Pentecost experience), and partake of the Sacrament of the Kingdom. As a Lutheran pastor, I had to keep track of “baptized members” and “communicant members.” Orthodoxy makes no such distinction, recognizing the need of the “medicine of immortality” for all its members.

4) Bible Interpretation--It was recently said that the LCMS won the “battle for the Bible” in the mid-seventies, but is losing the battle for its correct, consistent interpretation. And lest Lutherans rail at the Orthodox understanding of Holy Tradition, Lutherans should remember that they have a “holy tradition” of their own--the Book of Concord. But whose tradition is it? Is it the tradition of the whole Church? Holy Tradition is the fullness of apostolic truth that is the blessed treasure of faith that the whole Church has received as is compelled to impart. Holy Tradition has helped me to get a complete perspective on Scripture. For example, Paul's exhortation to Timothy to “commit to faithful men who will be able to teach others also”( 2 Timothy 2:2) is a verse that the Church understood in terms of apostolic succession. Holy Tradition makes clear the relationship of the three-fold Office of the Ministry indicated in Scripture. Hebrews 6:2 mentions the laying on of hands as a fundamental doctrine connected with baptism. Orthodox Tradition indicates that this use of the laying on of hands refers to chrismation, the seal of the Holy Spirit conferred on the newly baptized. And, even though there are many examples of baptism and the laying on of hands in the book of Acts, Lutherans, often because of fear of the excesses of the charismatic movement, have generally ignored this scriptural pattern. And even when the laying on of hands is used in the context of ordination, Lutherans regard this as a “human rite” in which nothing divine is conferred. But I Timothy 4:14 is quite clear on this point: “Do not neglect the gift that is in you, which was given to you by prophecy with the laying on of hands of the presbytery.” Ordination cannot be anything but a God-given Sacrament of the Church, conferring the Spirit-given gifts of the Ministry. And then there is James 5:13-15, which refers to the anointing of the sick with oil for forgiveness and healing. Except for individual pastors who take this verse seriously, Lutheranism, in general, avoids any reference to this passage in a sacramental context. The use of anointing the sick is almost unheard of in the Lutheran Church. But Holy Tradition shows that this passage of Scripture refers to Holy Unction, the sacrament of healing.

Finally, the issue of the interpretation of Scripture is afflicting church bodies such as the LCMS. Today, proponents of women's ordination have armed themselves with their favorite “proof passages.” And opponents have done so likewise. Which interpretation is the correct one? Without the use of Holy Tradition, Scripture can be made to say what any group wants it to say. Only the Church as a whole, having been led by the Holy Spirit to discern the canon of Scripture, is equipped to interpret its contents.

5) Salvation--Lutherans consider justification by faith (alone) as fundamental to their doctrinal system. Understood in the light of Roman abuses, the merits of the saints, purgatory, etc., Lutherans kept the legal understanding of salvation attributed to Augustine, but were careful to remove any trace of works as the cause of salvation. Lutherans make a very careful distinction between justification and sanctification. Looking at Orthodox soteriology, Lutherans might say that the Orthodox are “weak on justification.” Orthodox, looking at Lutheran soteriology, would probably say that Lutherans are weak on sanctification. Orthodoxy begins with Christology to spell out its soteriology: “God became man in order that man might become divine” (Athanasius). The Orthodox use the term theosis to describe this truth. Orthodox soteriology emphasizes the whole life of faith that involves growing into the likeness of Christ. Justification is but one very important aspect of this life-long process of sanctification, or theosis. Orthodoxy, like no other faith, is a complete way of life in its sacramental life and spirituality. Having come to understand Orthodox soteriology, I no longer have to do “theological gymnastics” in trying to “reconcile Jesus with St. Paul.” Lutherans, in their reaction to works-righteousness, sometimes said that works were injurious or works were not necessary for salvation. Yet a reading of Matthew indicates that the judgment will be based on works. The point is that faith is never “alone.” Faith without works is dead. Luther reacted to some terrible abuses in the Church. I personally feel that he emphasized his position as an antidote to those abuses. But did this justify his harsh words on the book of James because its contents did not seem to fit his understanding of salvation? His understanding of justification also led him to add the word “alone” to Romans 3:28, even though that word was not in the Greek manuscripts. His employment of the “forensic” approach to the doctrine of justification is stressed in Lutheranism. However, a reading of the Fathers reveals no significant support for this innovation. Lutheranism’s understanding of justification sets up an arbitrary hierarchy of biblical interpretation principles in which a supposed understanding of St. Paul’s letters to the Romans and Galatians becomes the lens with which to properly interpret the remainder of the Bible.

Salvation is the lifelong activity of faith, which unites the believer with Christ. The Orthodox understanding of salvation is wholistic--the believer, united with Christ, living in the Church as His Body, receiving forgiveness of sins (justification) and growing into Him who fills all things, until we shall be “like him” (I John 3:2). This avoids the extremes of Protestant “easy believism,” that casually says, as long as you believe in Jesus, you'll go to heaven, and the legalistic approach of Roman Catholic “works righteousness” and the “treasury of merits.”

6) Spirituality--Several years ago, I came to the realization that my devotional life was lacking consistency and depth. So, I searched for materials that I felt would be of help in my prayer life. Most of the materials that I found helpful came from Orthodox sources. After digesting the materials, I made some adjustments in my life by developing a “rule of prayer” that included daily Matins and Vespers and fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays. Suddenly the void in my life was filled as I prayed with and for the Church. I had been living by bread alone, but now I prayed daily using the Church's prayers. And then it occurred to me that I had never received good “spiritual formation” at seminary. We were too busy deriding "Catholic mysticism” instead of learning how to pray daily. We were so busy attacking the Reformed notion that “prayer is a means of grace” that we relegated prayer to a minor position in our lives. I recall how a number of seminary students often would skip chapel, arguing minor points of theology in the lounge. These were men who would soon be called to lead their congregations, as well as families, in a life of worship and devotion! Apart from a handful of pastors who pray the daily offices (Matins and Vespers), Lutheranism does not have a strong tradition of spirituality. The era of Lutheran Pietism might be considered the closest example. But Pietism tended to be very individualistic, unchurchly, anti-clerical, and anti-sacramental. And, as in “Lutheran evangelism,” where the goal of converting the sinner is often unrelated to leading that person into the Church, likewise, Lutheran spirituality has also tended to be somewhat disjointed from the doctrine and life of the Church. It’s every man for himself. With a lack of spiritual fathers and liturgical foundation, people will flounder in their prayer life and ultimately their spiritual growth. With the Lutheran doctrine of salvation that emphasizes an external declaration of righteousness only, the mystical union of the believer with Christ and “becoming partakers of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4) are pushed to the “back seat of the bus.”

Orthodoxy offers a panoply of tradition in prayer, ranging from the Desert Fathers to the “silent prayer” of the Hesychast. It is a spirituality that is an extension of the Church's liturgical life. The “Jesus Prayer” is one of the most simple, yet beautiful “arrow prayers” that has become a part of my daily prayer life. Becoming Orthodox means that I have all the resources for prayer in the Church's Tradition. Orthodox spirituality has ultimately allowed me to experience the reality of the indwelling Christ through which I had heretofore only known intellectually.

7) The Saints--Orthodoxy is the Church of love. You can feel it in the embraces that Orthodox share with each other. “See how they love one another” was and is an apt description of Orthodox believers living in full communion with the Church. In this Church I have observed a love and respect for the saints that is without equal in any other church body. In Lutheranism I was surprised at how little people knew about Martin Luther, let alone Philip Melanchthon, Martin Chemnitz, etc. I was more surprised at how little they cared about the lives of saints who had given their lives for the sake of Christ. O, yes, they might donate altar flowers in memory of Grandma Schultz. And when visiting their houses, I would find pictures of Grandma, but rarely “pictures” of Christ and his saints!

In honoring the shining “stars” of the Church, Orthodox are honoring God who made them what they were. In the saints I have seen that “with God, nothing is impossible,” especially the transformation of the sinner into one who lives in communion with the Lord and strives to do his will. “Let us love one another” is heard in the Church's Divine Liturgy and is extended to include not only the living but also the departed in the Faith. The iconography in the Church makes visible for us the truth about the Church-that it is the fellowship of love in the Holy Trinity that encompasses those who struggle here on earth (the “Church Militant”) and the departed who are with the Lord in heaven (the “Church Triumphant"). Death does not separate the faithful and their love for each other. “Blessed is the Kingdom” the first words of the Divine Liturgy, means that, in worship, the Kingdom of God is a blessed reality that is manifest in the Church as we worship with “angels, and archangels, and all the company of heaven.” I know many that try to remember their loved ones by putting flowers on their graves. Orthodoxy remembers the departed in Christ every Sunday in the Divine Liturgy. Orthodox faithful regard the departed not as dead, but alive with Christ in his Kingdom. And so it is a great comfort to know that our departed loved ones are alive, gathered around the throne of the Lamb, praying for us who “feebly struggle.” And, as we ask our friends here on earth to pray for us, Orthodox also ask the departed saints to pray for them. I once held to the notion that praying to the saints was an affront to Christ and his complete salvation. First, I had to discover that Orthodoxy, in contrast to Roman Catholicism, does not view salvation in terms of treasury or merit. The idea of accumulating merits of the saints that will aid in salvation is foreign to Orthodoxy. Rather, Orthodoxy recognizes the struggle we face in becoming godly and the need we have for much prayer. If the prayer of a righteous man avails much (James 5), how much more so the prayer of many righteous people! When Orthodox believers pray to the saints, they simply seek their prayers before the throne of God. And the Bible tells us that this is what they constantly do, no longer encumbered with the cares of this world! And the prayers of the departed saints are directed to the Triune God, who alone is able to answer the petitions of all the saints.

I finally had to realize that prayers to the saints did not detract from Christ and his Gospel. Rather, it became for me a recognition of the power of his Gospel! In Orthodoxy, there is “no East and West.” In Christ; likewise, “there is no "alive and dead.” For in Christ, his Body, the Church, is alive in the bond of his love!

As I wrestled with these hurdles to Orthodoxy, I realized that I was using the “Protestant grid,” not to mention my propensity for rationalism. I knew that all the issues that troubled me were addressed in the Holy Tradition of Orthodoxy. Who am I to know Bible interpretation better than the Church that gave me the Bible in the first place?! Who better than that Church founded by Christ and the apostles to explain the content of the Scriptures and the fullness of faith, order, and practice as handed down by the blessed apostles?

8) The Church--Ultimately, for me the key issue was the Church. How did the fathers and Creed understand “one, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church?” I felt that the Protestants had, to varying degrees, “gnosticized” the church. In other words, since they had broken from Rome, which claimed to be the true visible church, Protestants, in reaction, tended to spiritualize the church, emphasizing its invisible character through “faith alone.” Hence, there was no need for anything “human”--bishops, fasting, monks, liturgy, iconography, councils, etc. Yet, few of our Protestant friends realized that the Church determined the canon of Holy Scripture in the late 4th century. It did so through application of holy tradition (rule of faith) which preceded the even the writing of the New Testament. The Church formulated the Creed. The Church established canons that regulated its life (The Orthodox Church still observes these canons. For example, the canons do not permit divorced men to become clergy. This stands in sharp contrast to Protestantism, which finds itself with increasing percentages of divorced clergy.). Those who confessed and taught the faith and were in doctrinal and sacramental fellowship with other bishops (who were commemorated in the worship of Orthodox churches) and their respective flocks comprised the “One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church” (many Church Fathers refer to the Church simply as the “Catholic Church”). Virtually every Father testifies as to those who were in the Church and those, who, due to false teaching or noncanonical practice, put themselves outside of the church.

The Creed affirms that the Holy Spirit is the Lord and giver of life. He forms a body and unites it to Christ, the head of the church. Because it is united to Christ, it is described in the book of Ephesians (1:23) as the fullness of him who fills all things. It is one. It is complete (this is primarily what the word "catholic" means). It lacks nothing. It is universal. It transcends any one culture. And it transcends any period of history. It is both divine and human at the same time. It is local and also universal. It has one Lord, one faith, and one baptism. The gates of hell will not prevail against it. Thus, it will exist from Pentecost until our Lord’s parousia. Protestants will be surprised that, while the Scriptures affirm the Word of God as reliable and true, the same Scriptures declare that the Church itself is "the pillar and ground of the truth" (1 Tim 3:15). Without this pillar, everything comes crashing down. To this body the Word of God was revealed. And only this body, instructed in the apostles’ doctrine, could decide which Gospels and epistles belonged in the canon of Scripture. And this body alone, through its ecumenical councils and right-teaching fathers, is equipped to interpret the contents of Scripture.

For me, the Commonitories of St. Vincent of Lerins (a fifth century Church Father) were very helpful. In the face of heretical churches that were quoting Scripture to give their false teachings a dominical veneer, his basic rule was to accept only those teachings that had the support of ecumenical councils and/or an overwhelming consensus of Orthodox Fathers. His rule was to accept that which is taught “everywhere, always, and by all” in contradistinction to localized insights by individuals or groups. Without the Church and its holy tradition, which illuminates its interpretation, people were left with the gnawing question: “whose interpretation shall we believe”? This massive approach to private interpretation afflicts many church bodies today. Reading the Fathers and the proceedings of the ecumenical councils has given me many insights into the interpretation and application of difficult Scriptural passages.

And so, I'll take Ignatius, Irenaeus, Cyprian, and Chrysostom over Walther and Luther. Of course, I wouldn't be where I am today were it not for the vision of Orthodoxy that I received as a Lutheran. It's just that Lutheranism isn't the Church. The Missouri Synod is not in fellowship with the rest of world Lutheranism, which is drifting in several different liberal Protestant directions. The Wisconsin Synod is not in fellowship with Missouri or the rest of world Lutheranism. The Missouri Synod isn't “walking together” in doctrine and practice. Rather, it seems to drifting away from its catholic moorings and into the evangelical abyss. After all, Lutheranism is a movement--a movement to reform a church body that was once united with the bishops that comprised the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, but which had wrongfully added to the Church's Tradition. Lutheranism has had some effect on Rome over the years. But even Rome today is church body undergoing much change. Unfortunately, Lutherans are having a bigger problem reforming their own churches. Pastor Leonard Klein’s analysis of Lutheranism in a recent Concordia Theological Quarterly of Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, is most clearly revealed in the title of his article: “The Twilight of Lutheranism.”

Moving Day

Today, I have cleared out my belongings in my LCMS townhouse. I thought about taking along some of the furniture that would be compatible in the Orthodox fortress. There is much in Lutheranism that is compatible with Orthodoxy. But I have also recognized that Lutheranism is really an artist's (Martin Luther's) attempt to reproduce the real thing. I want the real thing! My move to Orthodoxy from Lutheranism will not be nearly the distance that I trave