Baptism & the Communion of the Saints

In baptism we are told that we "take off our sinful selves" and we are then "clothed in Christ Jesus." As a symbol of this new beginning, candidates for baptism in the early church took off all of their clothes, were baptized nude, and then were reclothed in white robes which indicated their new purity in Christ. This white baptismal robe is the origin of the alb worn by many clergy during worship services. The idea of being "clothed in Christ" is also preserved in the practice of baptismal gowns - white gowns for children who are being baptized.

My daughter's baptismal gown was as a connection with the generations that came before. It was made by her Great-Great Grandmother, Serena Hansen. It was worn by her Great-Grandpa Hansen and his three siblings, by her Grandpa Hansen and his sister, and of course by her Dad and his brothers. On the day of my daughter's death and re-birth, only a few members of her family were able to be there -- those who are still living and were able to make the trip to Prairie Hill. Yet her baptismal gown reminded us - and someday will remind her - that all of God's faithful saints, including the loved ones of our family, were watching over her on that day.

It was an intentional choice for my daughter to receive the sacrament of Holy Baptism on All Saints Sunday. I have always loved that particular festival, and I liked the idea that it would serve as a constant reminder for her that she is surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. I also liked the physical connection (the baptismal gown) with the meaning of the festival.

The great Orthodox liturgical theologian Alexander Schmemann has pointed out that we (i.e., all of humanity) are inherently sacramental. By this he meant that we need a physical connection to help us make sense of great spiritual truths. Lutherans have always been hesitant to use the language of "sacramental" to talk of anything except the two Sacraments of Water and Table. But there is much that is sacramental without being a sacrament; to say a thing is sacramental is to say that it is a physical reminder or sign of spiritual grace.

All Saints is a wonderful festival of the church, yet one that can be too abstract a concept for many people. I have found that a sacramental reminder -- something physical to connect us to intangible -- can serve as a wonderful reminder of the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us. Any variety of objects can serve such a purpose -- a picture of a loved one, a spouse's favorite shirt, a cross or Bible from a parent. As All Saints Day comes and goes for the year, placing such an object in the place we say our daily prayers can bring us closer to that Great Communion of all the saints.

(Knowing that some readers of this blog do their own sewing and embroidery work, I have placed a couple of detail shots of the baptismal gown below for your enjoyment)

Twitter Matrimony!

Ours was a wedding that embraced everything that technology can do to enhance the sense of community and our worship. More about that later, I am sure, as I continue to reflect on the events of last weekend. For now, here is our twitter stream.

This are all of the tweets about our wedding (as marked with our two wedding hashtags, #epicenterofmatrimony and #megarev). Our many friends who have protected or locked accounts also participated in this wonderful online worship experience, but their tweets are not captured by programs like this (Megan & I saw your tweets, thank you!). 

Enjoy this glimpse into what the community of Christ looks like when it gathers from around the world to rejoice together.

Getting Married ... Twice

Today is our wedding. Sort of. Kind of. A little bit. Let me back up and explain.

In most American church weddings, two things happen. First, a marriage license is signed, which was issues by the state. This document entitles a couple to the legal and financial privileges that come from being married. The legislature decides who can receive this license, the rights provided by at are guaranteed by the court system, and the person who signs it does so as an agent of the state.

Second, the church declares God's blessing on the couple and their life together and the community offers their prayers and support to them. The church (or the parent church body) decides who may or may not receive this blessing.

In most American church weddings, these two things happen at the same time. The pastor functions as the representative of both the church and the state. This -- as one might imagine -- produces some sticky questions. What happens when the state says a marriage is legal, but the church says that it is not a holy relationship? Or vice-versa, what happens when the church says a relationship is holy, but the state does not legally recognize it? By what criteria does the state authorize a person as a member of the clergy? And many many others.

This wasn't always the case. In the Roman world, the church was not recognized as any sort of authority. Why would the Roman Empire care whether or not a couple received a blessing from an underground, illegal sect? And so, couples would have their relationship recognized by the magistrate, to receive the legal benefits of marriage. And then they would ask their priest to bless that relationship in a separate act.

As the structures of the Roman world began to fall apart, the church took over the legal aspect of marriage. In the Middle Ages, the church was a state-supported institution. The local prince would often make the decision about who the local priest should be, and his salary would come out of the state's treasury.  In this time, a couple would stand outside of the doors of the church where the priest would perform the legal marriage. Then, married already in the eyes of the state, the couple would enter into the church to receive the blessing of God and the prayers of the community.

In much of the industrialized world, there has been a return to the older model. Couples go to the courthouse to get legally married. And then they go to their faith community to ask for a blessing on that marriage. As the rest of the world adopted the example of the American revolution - which rejected the idea of a state-supported church - they have sought to separate the work of the courthouse from the work of the church.

As a pastor, I am not called to government work. There are people who are gifted at it, and for whom I give thanks. But I am not one of them. I don't want to be in the business of being an agent of the state. In my study of church history, it does not work out well for the church when it starts doing the work of the state.

As a couple, Megan and I think that there is a difference between what is legal and what is holy. And we want to be intentional about those things. And so we are separating them out. We want the benefits of a marriage that is recognized by the government of the United States, and so we are getting a legal marriage. We also want the blessing of God on our marriage, and the prayers of our community, so we are getting a church marriage.

Let me be clear. Most Americans do both the legal and the religious marriage at the same time. Those are good, holy, and legal marriages. I am not disparaging those weddings. I am, however, asking if perhaps it is time to rethink how we as a church and country recognize the relationships of people who chose to spend their life together.

So today is our wedding. Our legal, state recognized wedding. When we fill out forms that ask about our legal status as a couple, this will be our anniversary.

And Sunday is our wedding. Our celebration with our family, friends, and community of faith. Sunday is when we are asking for God's blessing on our life together. When it is time to celebrate with friends and family, this will be our anniversary.

same-sex marriage, theology of marriage, holy matrimony, gay marriage, church and state

Why Do Weddings Matter?

Buckle in. Here's a shock: as I sit here writing my monthly newsletter article I have marriage on my mind. Maybe it has something to do with long to-do list I have sitting next to me, with things to get done for my own wedding.

So the most basic question: What exactly is a wedding? Or, to put it another way, why does a wedding matter?

We most often think about a wedding as being all about the couple. It is when the couple says their vows to one another, it is their special day, it is a celebration of their love. All those things are nice, but I think that they miss much of the point of the Christian wedding service. Vows could be said before a justice of the peace, or even in private. And ideally, any couple should be celebrating their love for one another every day.

Such an assumption about the importance of a wedding also misses point of Lutheran worship. The theological emphasis of Lutheran worship is not on the worshipers. No, wedding is first and foremost not about the bride or the groom, but about God.

In a service of marriage, we ask for God to bless the life of the bride and groom. No matter how nice the bride’s dress, no matter how cute the flower girl, the center of attention at a wedding is God. The most important part of a wedding is what God does. God blesses the couple, and the community.

But then the bride and groom, right? Nope. Secondly, a church wedding is about the community. Again, a couple could go off and get married in a private ceremony (and many couples do that—these are also holy and blessed marriages). But to get married in the church, surrounded by the community of faith, gives the community an important role to play. Those who are gathered at the wedding act on behalf of the whole church, on behalf of the whole people of God. On behalf of the church, the community that is gathered witnesses the couple’s vows. But even more importantly, the community that is gathered also makes a vow, to support and care for the couple. A wedding is about the support and prayers of the community of faith.

Only at the very bottom of the list, the church wedding is about the vows of the couple. There—in the presence of God and the community—the couple declares their vows to one another. Blessed by God, blessed by the community, the couple goes out to live their life.

 There are lots of different sorts of weddings—from big church weddings to services at the courthouse to an elopement. No matter the setting, these are the things that matter in a wedding service: God—community—and the couple.

This is an edited version of my September 2012 newsletter article for St. John Lutheran Church of Prairie Hill. 

"Christian Seder"

At one time (prior to my arrival), the congregation where I serve hosted a "Christian Seder" as a part of Holy Week. People have asked me since my arrival if that is something we might do again, to which my usual reply is probably not. Don't get me wrong, the Seder is a moving and powerful ritual - but it is not our ritual. One of my friends recently wrote a very clear and articulate article about why he feels the same way that I do.

Some of the most important reasons why not to host a church Seder, for me:

First, there is the issue of respect for our Jewish brothers and sisters. Can you imagine the reaction if non-Christian groups did "re-enactments" of our Sacraments? What would the Christian community have to say about a Muslim Holy Communion? Or a group of atheists doing mock baptisms? I think we would be up in arms about the mis-appropriation of our sacred rituals. And, from my experience, Jews feel the same way about our appropriation of their sacred ritual. Here are two articles by Rabbis commenting on the problems with "Christian Seders".

Second, Jesus did not have a Seder meal, at least not as modern Jews understand it. The Haggadah, from which Jews tell the story of the Passover at the Seder, was not written until the second century after Christ. In fact, the Seder meal as a discrete ritual evolved in part to address the splintering Jewish community following the destruction of the Temple in 70 ad. Part of that splintering community? Jewish Christians. The Seder was - at least in part - a response to the developing Christian rituals. Jesus undoubtedly celebrated the Passover with a meal, but it is a historical anachronism to call it a Seder.

Third, Jesus did not have a Seder meal, at least not as modern Christians understand it. It was in that Passover meal that Jesus gave the bread and wine to his disciples, saying "This is my body ... this is my blood." What Jesus did, from our perspective, was the Eucharist - the sacrament of Holy Communion. If you want to better understand Jesus' last night with his disciples, don't have a Seder - instead, gather around the table and share in the sacrament.

Perhaps a congregation wants to better understand their Jewish neighbors, and that is commendable. Visit your local synagogue, and talk with the Rabbi about how you can facilitate that understanding with respect. Perhaps the Rabbi would talk to a group in your congregation about what a Seder entails and what it means in the Jewish congregation.

But the best way to understand the mysteries of Jesus' last days, above all else, is to participate in the liturgy of the Triduum - the Great Three Days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil. It is there, in the experience of the powerful liturgy of those three days, that we encounter the meaning, depth, and power of our salvation. In the ritual of the Passover, the Jewish people recount their story of redemption. In the liturgies of the Great Three Days - and especially the Easter Vigil - the Christian community recounts and relives our story of redemption.

Here is a word of warning from the ELCA about the practice of Seder meals.