On Luther and the Desert Fathers

OrthoCuban has a new post entitled “On Luther and the Desert Fathers”. Here is a quote:

Meanwhile, the Desert Fathers would have not agreed with the medieval Roman calculus. Rather, they would have told Martin Luther that his sensitivity towards sin was a good thing, but that his fear that God would damn him was a bad thing. Yes, they would have told Martin that good works were important. Good works are the medicine that helps us to kill our addiction to sin. But our consciousness of sin is what keeps us from becoming like the pharisee who became proud of what he did and fell into a worse sin. If anything, the record of the Desert Fathers may call us to ask God that every bit of our sins be brought to our consciousness so that we may truly and finally grow into the image of Christ our God and avoid falling into the sin of the pharisee.

Weak on Sanctification?

The Internet Monk has a current series on Luther. There are some excellent responses to the series. One response, by Dave 138, asks some interesting questions:

• “What if it’s not so much about appeasing the wrath of the angry Father as the loving Creator who called his creation “good” and who called the creature he created in his own image “very good” restoring his creation to the pre-Fall state– “putting the world to rights” as N.T. Wright might say?”

• “But what if he has provided a way for us to experience not only forgiveness, but the beginnings of a sharing of his Trinitarian love even while still on this mortal coil?”

Here is his full response:

“I’m not going to make myself very popular here, I imagine, but am I the only one who thinks there could be something to the whole “weak on sanctification” stereotype? I’m not saying that I haven’t benefited from Walther, but I still find myself questioning whether the law/Gospel dichotomy isn’t just as much an artificial framework as the Calvinistic TULIP.

Now, trust me, I was almost destroyed by “third use of the Law” morbid introspection. In fact, it still haunts me in my search. So, I’m not advocating that by any means. Having come from a heavily Wesleyan dominated area, I’m also not arguing for a truly Semi-Pelagian “lose your salvation at any moment” Revivalism, either. I am searching for a liturgical church– that I know. However, I keep tripping over the legal framework of both the Swiss and German Reformers. Is getting forgiven really all it’s about? Is there more? I keep asking myself these questions.

Of course, I know that morbid introspection and inward looking are no good. However, I wonder if this isn’t partially the fault of a non-Sacramental worldview. When one tosses out any number of means of grace, it seems all one is left with is one’s own effort. So, then, it seems like a choice between a Mongergism that often allows one to simply rest on their laurels, whether it is their infant baptism, their answer to an alter call, a vague philosophical acceptance of the notion of “the finished work of Christ,” etc., or a Semi-Pelagianism that leaves one constantly wondering if they measure up. This is why I am still leaning Orthodox or Anglo-Catholic and do not at this time (and I could certainly be proven wrong) consider Lutheranism the most promising option.

I just keep thinking there has to be more. What if it’s not so much about appeasing the wrath of the angry Father as the loving Creator who called his creation “good” and who called the creature he created in his own image “very good” restoring his creation to the pre-Fall state– “putting the world to rights” as N.T. Wright might say? Although I know it’s not about what I want and what I find attractive, I must say that the healing and hospital metaphor prevalent in the Theosis concept of the Eastern Church and some high church Anglicans such as Lancelot Andrewes warms my heart and makes me feel that God, maybe, just maybe, might actually love me. I guess this just makes sense to me, as it seems to tie up both justification and sanctification in a beautiful, relational package which seems, at its best (and it isn’t aways), able to circumvent the Scilla and Chharibdis of both legalism and antinomianism.

Do I want to be forgiven? Of course. Do I need to be forgiven? Without question. But if I love Christ, it seems I should want more. I know, like Bunyan, that I can call myself “the chief of sinners,” and that I could certainly not advance an iota towards God had he not himself provided the way. But what if he has provided a way for us to experience not only forgiveness, but the beginnings of a sharing of his Trinitarian love even while still on this mortal coil? I’m probably not making much sense, and I’m more than just an armchair theologian– I’m a total newb. However, although I think what Luther did was probably necessary given the direction Medieval Catholicism had taken, I just have some concerns which prevent me, at this time, from pursuing this avenue. Lutheran brothers, pray for me. If I am wrong, may God open my eyes.”

It’s your fault, not Lutheran theology

When people try faith healing and are not healed, the supporters of faith healing blame the person. He or she simply did not have enough faith.

Have you noticed this dynamic with Lutherans? When someone leaves Lutheranism, it is always the ex-Lutheran’s fault? People who leave Lutheranism for Orthodoxy are always considered the problem. Have you noticed the condescension and anger toward the people who leave? It is usually assumed that there was either something wrong with that person or with his catechesis.

The idea that there could be something wrong with Lutheran theology is never considered.

I just finished a series on why one Lutheran pastor left the LCMS for Orthodoxy. I also had a few posts focusing on the experiences of one lay Lutheran named Drew.

Dixie, another former lay Lutheran, offered her experience as a Lutheran in her comment on the “Correction a Misperception” post. She states:

“I struggled for several years to understand how sanctification was supposed to work in a way that either didn’t leave me in works righteousness or leave me to my own desires. The debate just between Lutherans was sufficient for me to see that it wasn’t so clear even to seminary graduates!

As a Lutheran I was taught that if I am “in Christ” the Holy Spirit would give me everything I needed to do the good works that I needed to do. But in practice what I discovered was that on Saturday morning my neighbor may have needed my help but I wanted sleep in and the just relax around the house. If I really was supposed to help my neighbor, wouldn’t I have been given the grace to do so? But since I didn’t want to help my neighbor, that must have meant it was OK to do nothing because if I forced myself to wake up early and leave the house to help…then I would have been guilty of works righteousness. Drowning that old Adam required very real work but how much work was too much work? And maybe it was OK to just sleep in because as I heard more times than I care to quote “it wouldn’t affect my salvation” since we were saved by grace but clearly works righteousness could. AAARRRRGGGGHHHH!

And I never missed a communion (we had it at least twice a week), always attended a bible study, usually two each week, and I took advantage of private confession on average about every two months—although my pastor wasn’t a fan.

So admittedly, I never “got” it. Call me stupid. Call me improperly catechized. Call me unsanctified. Whatever. At this point it is inconsequential. I guess I am just one of those former Lutherans guilty of misperception.”

Adam, also a former lay Lutheran, reacted to the Drew post by stating:

“Every word of Drew's post hits home. His example of sexual sin is particularly apropos because letting God do His work in us is really hard! Sometimes a person might REALLY want to transgress God's law and he has to actively seek God and turn toward Him. This is not a passive act. It is perhaps the highest form of asceticism, for it denies the body what it really, really wants and turns toward God instead. That's not easy in the least.

Personally speaking, I know the constant fear of worrying about whether I was taking too much credit. Here's the conclusion I reached...hyper-focusing about my state of mind was just as self-centered as the worst of those synergistic moralists. They required works, but I required that a person's words and thoughts be ordered in just the precisely correct manner.

What I wish someone had told me is that I should stop worrying about the axioms and syllogisms and just pray. One helpful thing about Orthodoxy is that we're reminded of our sin every morning and night. Our prayers keep us (hopefully) humble. Humble or not, we're certainly reminded of our shortcomings which is why we pray every morning:

"O Savior, save me by Thy grace, I pray Thee. For if thou shouldst save me for my works, this would not be a grace but rather a duty; yea, Thou Who art great in compassion and ineffable in mercy. For he that believeth in Me, Thou hast said, O my Christ, shall live and never see death. If then, faith in Thee saveth the desperate, behold, I belive, save me, for Thou are my God and creator."

The prayers of The Church remind us continually that our salvation is entirely in Him and, by extension, that any and all progress is actually God working in us and through us. But as Orthodox Christians we don't deny this progress, and we welcome it rather than question it; both for ourselves and our brothers and sisters in the faith.”

Drew, Dixie and Adam. Was it them or Lutheran theology?

Lutheran theology frees the Christian from the requirement to be nice.

Matt, in a response on the Internet Monk blog, states the following about being a Lutheran:

"Lutheran theology frees the Christian from the requirement to be nice. “Be Nice” is the great unwritten commandment of the contemporary church. Any number of church fathers (including Paul and Christ himself) could be remarkably blunt and “divisive.” But American Christianity always has to have a smiling face, even if its phony, and our society picks up on our phoniness. Therefore, many Lutherans often come across as grumpy, argumentative and uninterested in being your pal. Some of these are quite active on the Internet!"

Someone finally speaks the truth! “Grumpy, argumentative and uninterested in being your pal” sums up much of my experience with meeting fellow Lutherans in person and on the Internet. My Lutheran church is a cold and unfriendly place. The pastor is great and there are a few people who go out of their way to welcome people. However, for the most part, no one talks to each other and the only people welcoming visitors are the “greeters” at the door.

I guess the "passive" nature of Lutheran spirituality causes Lutherans to wait around until the Holy Spirit gives them compassion and love for other people.

Here is my growing list of the potential "side effects" of Lutheran theology:

• Grumpiness
• Combative and argumentative nature
• Aloofness
• Rudeness
• Arrogance
  
• Reduced ability and motivation to resist sin
• Passive spirituality
• Short-term relief from a troubled conscience
  
• Flesh is pampered
• Loss of interest in doing good deeds
• Increased desire in splintering and creating factions

What other potential negative "side effects" have you noticed?

"Correcting a Misperception" by Rev. Weedon

Rev. Weedon has a post on is blog entitled “Correcting a Misperception” where he addresses some of the issues discussed in “Does Lutheran Theology Destroy Souls?”.

Rev. Weedon states:

“Some former Lutherans persist in slandering our faith by saying that it is spiritually damaging - pointing especially to the teaching that we are simultaneously just and sinner. Thus, to their way of thinking, Lutherans teach that one may intentionally and willfully persist in sin and rejoice in forgiveness. But this is a complete falsification of our teaching.”

"Does Lutheran Theology Destroy Souls?" is not arguing that Lutherans teach that one “may intentionally and willfully persist in sin and rejoice in forgiveness”. Here is Drew’s criticism of Lutheran theology:

• The Lutheran ‘Gospel” left him powerless to fight against his sin.

• The psychological benefit of ‘extra nos’ was “spiritually deceptive”, especially in regards to living in a culture “saturated by carnal sensuality”.


• When he fell into sin, the message of ‘extra nos’ did calm his “troubled conscience”. However, this was the danger for him – the “satanic delusion” he calls it. As he states, “the extra nos leaves one thinking they are 'right with God' when in fact, they may not be -- as in my case.”


• He knew that he was “sowing in the flesh, and therefore reaping corruption”. Yet, he was led to believe that he was “justified before God, righteous in His eyes” because he received the Sacrament of the Altar trusting that it was “for him”.


• He believed that God would see him “through to the end no matter what” he did in his life. However, he had a terrible prayer and thought life. His life was really no different from a non-Christian.


• His life was “centered around the passive reception of Christ’s forgiveness through Word and Sacrament”. He points out that “passive” is the key.


• Hearing sermons that Christians are really no different from non-Christians (he used sermons about the Corinthians as an example) “only pampers the flesh, and definitely does not lead to true repentance.”


• “The boogeyman of 'works righteousness' will always haunt the Confessional Lutheran. Anything that looks even remotely close to 'works righteousness' is shunned. Just bring up fasting around Lutherans and witness the debate that ensues. In fact, exhorting the Christian to do anything (besides the passive reception of Word and Sacrament) often leads to debate as well. Just go read about the Lutheran debates centered around the so-called 'third use of the Law'.”
  

I think Drew’s main point is that Lutheranism did not give him the tools to fight sin effectively. The emphasis on the "passive" reception of Word and Sacrament does not necessarily lead to significant behavior change or an increased desire/motivation to fight sin.

For example, Rev. Weedon states:

“What simul justus et peccator is rather seeking to confess is that to be a Christian is to be in a life-long struggle against the flesh and its lusts. You will never advance to a point where the struggle is ended. It goes on to the very end. The fact of the struggle doesn't mean one isn't a Christian (the absence of the struggle does!). As St. Paul wrote of himself to the Romans: "I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh, for I have the desire to do what it right, but not the ability to carry it out." (7:18)

Drew’s criticism of Lutheranism is that it failed to give him the tools for the “life-long struggle against the flesh and its lusts”. Further, some of the tools can actually “backfire” – produce short-term relief from a troubled conscience but pamper the flesh in such a way that true repentance and effort to resist sin does not occur.

I think Rev. Weedon would agree that the “tools” for fighting sin are often hard to find in many LCMS churches. How many LCMS churches have weekly Communion? How many offer private Confession and Absolution? How many spend time during sermons and study classes discussing ways to resist temptation and fight sin?

Does Lutheran theology destroy souls?

A recent discussion on Fr. Gregory's blog focused on "why Lutherans go East". One participant named Drew shared his experience of being a Lutheran. Drew's main argument is that the Lutheran teaching of simul justus et peccator ("Righteous and at the same time a sinner") destroys souls.

Drew stated:

"I left Lutheranism for Orthodoxy because I was enslaved to some extremely serious sins -- the kind of sins that lead unto death -- and the Lutheran 'gospel' left me powerless. Harsh words, I know, but that was my experience -- and not only my experience, but the experience of my other Lutheran friends as well. We were all students of staunchly Confessional Lutheran teachers and pastors, so the blame cannot be laid on the fact that we received teaching that wasn't truly Lutheran.

The simul iustus et peccator notion as it is popularly taught is an insidious doctrine that destroys souls.

… The simul iustus et peccator doctrine is grounded in the extrinsic -- and that is the operative word here -- nature of the Lutheran understanding of salvation. I had it hammered into my thinking time and time again: 'The whole Gospel is extra nos; it is outside of you!' While this teaching might have some psychological benefits at times, it truly is spiritually destructive, especially in a culture such as ours that is saturated by carnal sensuality.

There were times, especially when I had spent the Saturday night before church the next morning engaging in serious sexual immorality, where this message, preached so eloquently from the pulpit, did in fact calm my troubled conscience. But that's exactly where the true danger, the satanic delusion operates, I think; the extra nos leaves one thinking they are 'right with God' when in fact, they may not be -- as in my case. 'Do not be deceived. God is not mocked.' See Galatians 6. I was sowing in the flesh, and therefore reaping corruption, but I was led to believe I was justified before God, righteous in His eyes, because I believed that Christ had died for my sins, and because I received the Sacrament of the Altar trusting that it was 'for me'.

…The extrinsic nature of the Lutheran gospel fits hand in glove with monergism, or monoenergism: we do not participate in anyway in our salvation. God had baptized me, he was forgiving my sins, and He would see me through to the end no matter what I did in my life, as long as I kept believing that Christ's work was 'for me'. So I could go on living a duplicitous life, a life characterized by anything but 'the Spirit', and I was 'justified' given my trust in Christ's atoning death on the cross. I had no continual or substantial life of prayer. I let my thoughts, my logismoi in Orthodox parlance, run the show. The only thing that set me apart from other non-Christians was the fact that I would give an intellectual defense of Christianity if needed, the fact that I would show up to church on Sundays, and that I read a bunch of theology. But my will and my heart were not Christian.

My understanding of the Christian life was that is largely centered around the passive reception of Christ's forgiveness through Word and Sacrament. And passive is really the key here. I cannot recall ever hearing a sermon preached on the dynamic change that life in the Spirit brings to the Christian. In fact, I specifically remember time and time again hearing that Christians were really no different that non-Christians in terms of how they lived their lives. The sins of the Corinthians was used as a proof text for this. Now maybe this was just for rhetorical purposes, you know, to drive home the point that Christians must not see themselves as 'superior' to non-Christians or something like that. Nonetheless, hearing this sort of thing from the pulpit only pampers the flesh, and definitely does not lead to true repentance.

The boogeyman of 'works righteousness' will always haunt the Confessional Lutheran. Anything that looks even remotely close to 'works righteousness' is shunned. Just bring up fasting around Lutherans and witness the debate that ensues. In fact, exhorting the Christian to do anything (besides the passive reception of Word and Sacrament) often leads to debate as well. Just go read about the Lutheran debates centered around the so-called 'third use of the Law'.” (emphasis mine)

Insight, Catharsis & Sinful Behavior

I have been thinking about the critiques of Perry Robinson and Drew. Essentially, the arguments are:

• Lutheran theology may cause a person to seek out a cathartic experience each Sunday.

• This cathartic experience does not necessarily lead to behavior change.

• The “insight” of Lutheran theology (simul justus et peccator, extra nos, etc.) does not necessarily lead to behavior change.

• This “insight” can actually become a rationalization to continue to sin.

• The cathartic experience can be an “opiate” that lulls the person to accept his sinful behavior.

• The cathartic experience can also lead to a rationalization that keeps the person from making a behavior change.

• Both the cathartic experience and insight may have no impact on motivation or desire to change sinful behavior.

• Finally, this whole situation is compounded by the fact that most Lutheran preaching, at least Confessional Lutheran preaching, does not focus much on Sanctification.

It would seem that one could argue that Lutheran theology is a ‘set up’ for sinning. A situation is set up in which a sinner seeks an emotional catharsis each week, yet keeps sinning. The sin is rationalized and the guilt is medicated by the narcotic catharsis each Sunday.

We are all sinners. However, we all have areas where we can improve. We have habitual sinful behavior that can change. The anger can be reduced, the pride lessened and the lust resisted.

I have never thought about this until now, but perhaps Lutheran theology takes away the desire, motivation and interest in changing sinful behavior (at least in some people).

I am not forgetting the role of the Holy Spirit in all of this. However, I wonder how much am I supposed to “work with the Holy Spirit” to change my sinful ways. Or, do I wait for the Holy Spirit to give me all the desire, motivation, interest, power and ability to change. If so, how long do I wait for the Holy Spirit to work in my life?

Perhaps Lutheran theology needs a warning label.