Why am I a Lutheran?
“Why
am I a Lutheran?
Short answer:
By God’s grace alone!
”
Now the longer one: I would answer separately from three stages of my life, but they are equally valid and related.
First, from my infant baptism to young adulthood, I am a Lutheran because of my faithful parents who had me baptized through our Lutheran Church and educated in grades 1–12 in Lutheran schools. They properly followed the Lord’s command and promise: “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it” (Proverbs 22:6). When Christian parents do such a thing, they have nothing of which to be ashamed. This prepared me well for the next stage.
Secondly, as a young adult, my conscience became acutely aware of my many hypocrisies. How could I confess to follow my Lord Jesus when I would disobey Him daily in my thoughts, words, and deeds? And worse yet, it would be repetitive sins, not necessarily new ones. As I looked about at other Christians who were not Lutherans, I came to the wrong conclusion that while Lutherans have it right in regard to salvation according to Scripture, other Christians, like Baptists, had sanctification and holy living down better than we Lutherans.
As I began to dabble in alternate theological approaches to Scripture, listening to their nonbiblical expressions like: “give your life totally over to Jesus,” “make Jesus Lord of your life,” “invite Jesus into your heart,” and attempting to apply them to myself, I was not any more holy as I examined myself. Daily I was still sinning. This expression from my Catechism instruction kept coming to mind as I heard those impossible requirements–“I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to Him, but the Holy Ghost calls me by the Gospel…” Following these other teachings only led to despair and doubt in regard to salvation. Therefore, I remained Lutheran because not only were those teachings Scriptural, they gave me certainty, which I was craving, i.e. to
know I was right and acceptable before God my Creator.
Thirdly, I prepared and eventually took my vows at ordination, which included in part:
I believe that the Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church as contained in the Book of Concord—are in agreement with the one true faith taught in the Holy Scriptures.
I solemnly promise that I will perform the duties of my office in accordance with these Confessions, and that all my teaching and administration of the Sacraments shall be in conformity with the Holy Scriptures and with these Confessions.
It became apparent in my instruction that all other Christian denominations had slight variations of the Gospel, which made salvation uncertain. Yes, Lutherans understand that Jesus, the Christ paid the price for our sin with His blood. Lutheranism clearly teaches that Christ not only made the perfect sacrifice for all our sins, but has, through His holy life lived in our place, freely given us His eternal righteousness through faith in Him. So, while other confessions teach that we must add something to the work of Jesus, Lutherans rightly believe according to Scripture that Jesus did all to save us. He left nothing undone.
Most of you who are reading this cannot identify with my stage three. Some of you cannot even identify with my stage one. But stage two, including your Christian baptism, is more than sufficient and allows you to realize that you are a Lutheran because God loves you in His Son, and has done all to save you–your salvation in Jesus is certain.
by PASTOR JAMES BRAUN, Editor, The Lutheran Sentinel Trinity Lutheran Church, Brewster, Massachusetts
Henry Hamann was a member of the Lutheran Church in Australia. During his career he had served as a parish pastor, but the majority of his time was spent teaching at various Lutheran institutions. In 1988, he published an important little book called “On Being a Christian: A Personal Confession.” In the Introduction he wrote:
“Readers will, no doubt, appreciate knowing from the outset what prompted this book, and what they are likely to find in it. This volume tries to present the Christian faith from the viewpoint of one who, as a convinced Lutheran, holds that to be a Lutheran and to be Christian are not in any way matters in tension. They are the words of one who is a Lutheran because he is a Christian—of one who, if he were not a Lutheran, would not be a believer of any kind—of one who sees the only logical alternative to his commitment to the Christian Lutheran faith to be Epicureanism in its popular form: ‘Let us eat and drink and be merry, for tomorrow we are dead.’ Perhaps I should expand a little on these rather clipped statements.” Hamann, Henry. On Being a Christian: A Personal Confession (NPH Classics) (p. 6). (Function). Kindle Edition.
In this issue of The Lutheran Sentinel, you will find the same sentiments in each of its articles as the writers detail how they eventually were brought into the Evangelical Lutheran Church*. The common theme that runs through this issue is that there are religions and
The Seventh Annual Apologetics and Worldview Conference
The theme for this issue: “Why am I a Lutheran?” UNSURPASSED CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS
June 18–19, 2025
Bethany Lutheran College, Mankato, Minnesota
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18
THURSDAY, JUNE 19 6:30p*
Christian confessions that demand a measure of obedience on our part to make certain our salvation; but that the true Christian religion is not one of these.
This is why Pastor Hamann equated “Lutheran” with “Christian.” It’s not that only Lutherans are Christians or even that every Lutheran is a Christian, but that in the orthodox (right-teaching) Lutheran Church, the “marks of the Church” are prominent: the Word is taught in its truth and purity and the Sacraments are administered rightly.
As stated in the Augsburg Confession, Article V: “To obtain such faith God instituted the office of preaching, giving the gospel and the sacraments. Through these, as through means, he gives the Holy Spirit who produces faith, where and when he wills, in those who hear the gospel. It teaches that we have a gracious God, not through our merit but through Christ’s merit, when we so believe.”
*Note: The “Evangelical Lutheran Church” is not a church body, per se. It is rather made up of those who confess that the Bible is indeed God’s holy Word and that the Lutheran Confessions are also taught because they agree with holy Scripture. For example: when a pastor is ordained, he’s not ordained into a particular synod, but rather into the church that confesses these truths regardless of denomination.
John Warwick Montgomery (1931 - 2024)
The Legacy of John Warwick Montgomery (1931-2024)
- 1963)
Atty. Craig Parton | International Academy of Apologetics, Evangelism & Human Rights | Strasbourg, France
Early Church Apologists & Beyond
The Legacy of C.S. Lewis (1898-1963)
Dr. Joel Heck | C.S. Lewis Scholar; Interim President - Concordia Lutheran Seminary | Alberta, Canada
The Legacy of Early Church Apologists & Beyond
Dr. Adam Francisco | Director of Academics/Scholar 1517; Adjunct Prof. of History - Concordia University | Chicago, Illinois
The Legacy of Early Church Apologists & Beyond (continued)
Table Talk with the presenters
Registration: apologeticscenter.org/events/ Questions? apologetics@blc.edu
Livestreamed? Yes.
* Presentation periods include time for Q & A and sufficient breaks including over an hour for lunch.
C.S. Lewis (1898
THE LEGACY OF:
Question ...
I’ve observed that the preaching of the Law has changed among confessional Lutherans. I recall Lutheran pastors in my lifetime who would preach real “fire-and-brimstone” sermons such that even the smuggest sinner would have felt convicted. In recent years, sermons just feel different. Please don’t misunderstand. This is not a complaint. I still hear faithful, convicting Law-preaching in my own church and among the churches of our fellowship. However, I have noticed a change in tone and style...
I rarely hear a passionate “fire-and-brimstone” preaching of the Law anymore. Why is that?
Answer:
Confessional Lutherans have always appreciated faithful Law-preaching in the sermon. Proclaiming the wrath of God over sin plays an important role in both leading sinners to their Savior and building up the faith of believers. When we imagine “fire-and-brimstone” law-preaching, the preacher proclaims God’s Law with such passion and ferocity that he leaves no illusions about the threat of divine punishment. Has this kind of preaching gone “out of style” among us? Perhaps, a bit.
To understand some of the reasons why this shift has taken place, it may help to consider the task of preaching God’s Law. In 2 Timothy 3, St. Paul writes, “All Scripture is God breathed and is useful for teaching, for rebuking, for correcting, and for training in righteousness” (2 Tim 3:16, EHV). The purpose of preaching the Law chiefly falls in the realm of correcting. Correction addresses sins within the congregation for the purpose of bringing people to contrition or what Scripture calls “godly sorrow” (2 Cor 7:10). The preacher holds up God’s Law as a mirror, raising awareness of sinful attitudes and behaviors, leading God’s people to recognize their hidden faults (Ps 19:12), as well as the condemnation those faults deserve.
A faithful pastor can use God’s Word to correct in many different ways, depending upon the needs of his congregation. One might have a congregation where the “fire-and-brimstone” approach works well. In today’s culture, however, many have come to expect “fire-and-brimstone” and have hardened their hearts against it. Pastors also consider whether a fiery, passionate preaching of the Law might cause undue terror to a sensitive conscience. So, instead of with fire and passion, a faithful pastor may choose to preach the Law from a place of empathy and compassion, gently but firmly holding up the mirror of God’s Law to his people’s lives.
Timing may be another factor. A long-tolerated public sin may require a stern rebuke on the part of the pastor to wake people up to the offense that has taken place.
The personality of the preacher matters too. A passionate person will preach God’s Word passionately. Yet an easy-going person who tries to preach with “fire-and brimstone” might come off as inauthentic or insincere because the style doesn’t fit his personality.
No matter which strategy the pastor employs, the underlying consideration for both the truth of God’s Word and the hearts of his people remains the same. In the end, preachers—and trends in preaching—come and go, “but the Word of the Lord endures forever” (1 Pet 1:25). The great hallmark of Lutheran preaching is that Law-preaching is not an end in itself, but instead serves as a means to an end. We proclaim the Law in its severity and sternness so that we can then proclaim the Gospel in all of its comfort and sweetness.
In the end, preaching the Law does not change lives. Only through the Gospel does the Holy Spirit lead sinners to discover God’s will for their lives, that through faith in Christ Jesus who died for their sins, they have everlasting life. Only through the Gospel do sinners find the strength to turn away from their sin and trust in the Lord’s mercy and forgiveness. The letter kills, but the spirit gives life (2 Cor 3:6).
Do you have a question for Pastor Van Kampen? ?
Send them via email: Send them via “snail mail”: pvankampen@holycrossmadison.org
Pastor Piet Van Kampen
Holy Cross Lutheran Church 734 Holy Cross Way, Madison, WI 53704
“Why am I a Lutheran?”
by JEREMY AIELLO
St. John Evangelical Lutheran Church, Frankenmuth, Michigan
My exposure to Christendom came at the age of seven. My mother had converted to Christianity through a coworker, and not knowing much about that faith, she immediately began taking my brother and me to a nearby Independent Fundamentalist Baptist church (my father would not convert for another sixteen years). Both my brother and I “accepted Jesus into our hearts” and were baptized—by immersion, of course. Not long after, my mother enrolled us in the church’s affiliated school.
Nobody can deny that Baptists generally have a good Gospel presentation. This church was no different: Christ on the cross for our sins was proclaimed many a time. But in the Baptist line of thought, the Gospel was for the unbeliever only. The Christian was “past” the Gospel, and the godly life was about rededication and refraining from worldliness for assurance for salvation. For example: avoiding secular music, going to movies, or (I’m not kidding here) having the right haircut for boys. In both the church and the school, emotional messages urgently calling for us to “rededicate ourselves to Christ” came frequently. This came to a head when the school brought in a group from another Christian school to put on a revivalistic play intended to emotionally prod students into decisions, to which I responded with fervent rededication.
Not long after, I discovered the Pentecostal/charismatic movement when a high school friend (who also “rededicated himself” as a result of that play) began attending what would now be considered a nondenominational megachurch. I followed suit, wanting to remain zealous for God, and sensing that my response for “rededication” seemed to be losing steam as I was reverting to “lukewarmness,” in addition to selfishly preferring rock and roll bands instead of organs and hymns.
For the next several years, even after moving away from my hometown after high school, I identified with this branch of Christendom. The pursuit of supernatural signs and wonders was thrilling at first, and I “felt” spiritual, but as with Baptist revivalism, the Pentecostal/charismatic sect turned me back toward myself for assurance. Was I “feeling the presence of the
Spirit” in church? Was I filled with emotional exuberance about the things of God every day, hour, and minute? Was I speaking in tongues? Were miraculous events occurring in my life?
While not always verbalized, these expectations were often implied from Pentecostal/charismatic preaching and testimony, and no matter how emotionally charged the worship and preaching were, there were days where I didn’t feel anything. In addition, I suspected that my attempts at speaking in tongues and other supposed “manifestations” were more related to human imagination than the Holy Spirit.
Later, I began dating the woman who would eventually become my wife and learned that she and her family belonged to a congregation of the Church of the Nazarene, a branch of Wesleyan Christianity. By this time, I still considered myself to be Pentecostal/charismatic but had become disillusioned with the excessive focus on supernatural manifestations, so I started to attend her church. The Nazarene denomination often takes a middle of the road approach to signs and wonders; not ruling them out, but also not actively promoting them, and this was appealing to me.
True to denominational form, the Nazarene church put a heavy emphasis on self-examination, in some ways not unlike the revivalism of my former Baptist church. Law was prevalent, and once conviction was brought, the frequent follow-up came in the form of “do more, try harder.” Occasionally, a call was put forth to ask God for forgiveness for failing to be as holy as we ought to have been. But even then, forgiveness was often skimmed over in favor of emphasizing self-resolution to be a better Christian.
What’s more, the word “sin” rarely, if ever, came up in relation to believers: Christians “made mistakes,” “made errors,” “messed up,” and other similar terms, but Christians didn’t sin (I later learned that this was in line with Wesley’s erroneous doctrine of Christian perfectionism). There was talk of fixing our mistakes but never putting those same mistakes on the same level of sinfulness as the Scriptures teach.
To make matters more troubling, this Nazarene church often tried to keep one foot in the traditional Wesleyan camp while putting the other in the world of evangelical fads. Rick Warren’s “Purpose Driven Life” spread through the congregation. Personalities like Rob Bell and Brian MacLaren (who had not been quite as upfront about their theological liberalism at the time, though it was hinted at in their resources) were brought into Sunday School classes. Many sermons pointed in the direction of doing social good in a manner akin to Moralistic Therapeutic Deism (see the footnote for a definition). I was troubled by these changes and voiced my concerns more than once. The straw which broke the camel’s back came when the Nazarene pastor invited an evangelist to the church. His doctrine and preaching drew heavily from the Word of Faith/Prosperity gospel sects, which are incompatible with both traditional Nazarene doctrine and orthodox Christianity as a whole. I wrote to the pastor, expressing my concerns, but nothing changed concerning the matter, although I found out that others on the church board shared my concerns. In the end, I took my now
wife and children out of the Nazarene church.
By then, I had been listening to both Calvinist and Lutheran voices on the radio and internet. I liked both, but the Lutheran view of sacraments was still “too Catholic” for me, and our family began to attend a conservative Presbyterian church. The congregation and pastor were quite friendly, and the preaching was overall sound. But as I continued in Calvinism and compared it with Scripture, more questions arose. Calvinists hold to double predestination, meaning all are either decreed by God to be saved or condemned from the beginning. How did I know I was of the elect? How did I know my faith was genuine?
The response of many Calvinists was that the evidence of good works and “religious affections” would assure me. But even that didn’t help: my affections and works were not always consistent. I was worrying far more about an unknown decision made by God than I was the clear display of His love in the person and work of Jesus Christ. My questioning of myself brought me very near to despair.
But Lutheranism had the answer: look to Jesus.
Every other denomination ultimately had me looking to myself. I was looking to my obedience, my experiences, my feelings, my being elected or damned by hidden decree, or my personal resolve. Jesus was there, yes, but He was the Savior for the unbeliever, after which He often became the “new Moses” in being merely a moral example for us.
Wise Lutherans know that this thinking drives to either pride in self-righteousness, or despair in an honest assessment of our sinfulness, and I saw how true that is. In Lutheranism, the Gospel is not just “the entrance ticket” to be discarded after conversion. Christ’s atoning work is brought back again and again in preaching and teaching. Jesus didn’t just die for the unbeliever; He died for the Christian, too. He died for me. And I strive to obey God, not to earn eternal life, but because God in His mercy through Christ has freely given me eternal life, as a grateful child hears and obeys a parent.
I am thankful to have found a strong ELS congregation, with which my family and I are now involved. The treasure of sound doctrine, and the right understanding of the Gospel and its application to the Christian life is both a joy and relief. I can truly testify to the words of Jesus, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:30).
Footnote:
Albert Mohler describes “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism” in this way: As described by Smith and his team, Moralistic Therapeutic Deism consists of beliefs like these: 1. “A god exists who created and ordered the world and watches over human life on earth.” 2. “God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.” 3. “The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about ones self.” 4. “God does not need to be particularly involved in one’s life except when God is needed to resolve a problem.” 5. “Good people go to heaven when they die.” https:// albertmohler.com/2005/04/11/moralistic-therapeutic-deism-the-new-american-religion-2/
“Why am I a Lutheran?”
by PASTOR RICHARD TRAGASZ Siloam Springs, Arkansas
The 1960s Chicago of my childhood was one of ethnic neighborhoods peopled by the children and grandchildren of immigrants. Its churches sprang up to serve spiritually the immigrants who spoke the languages of their homelands. Their children and grandchildren remained in the ethnic enclaves of their forbears.
by PASTOR THOMAS RANK
Associate Professor of Religion, Bethany Lutheran College
On the city’s west side, where I lived, my family was part of the Roman Catholic Parish of St. Francis of Assisi, which served Polish Americans like me. One block from St. Francis Parish was the Church of Saints Cyril and Methodius, founded by Slovaks. Five city blocks farther was the Italian Our Lady of the Angels Parish.
Lutherans, though a minority, were present on the west side. Our ELS was represented by St. Paul and St. Mark Lutheran Churches. Lutheran deaconesses founded Norwegian American Hospital.
Every Roman Catholic Parish had its parochial school where good Catholics sent their children. My journey as a Roman Catholic began at St. Francis of Assisi School. As I proceeded through its eight grades, five of my teachers were Franciscan nuns while three were lay. Class size was about forty students.
Discipline was strict, but the education we received was fabulous. We learned the “Three R’s,” plus history, geography, civics, and penmanship. Of course, there was a fourth “R,”—religion. Most male students became altar boys in third grade. This meant learning the altar boy prayers in Latin. In religion class, we were taught Roman Catholic doctrine. Emphasized was the need to remain in a state of sanctifying grace in order to go to heaven. Committing a mortal sin robbed the individual of this state. Sanctifying grace could only be restored by a perfect act of contrition or going to Confession. Less serious were venial sins, which also needed to be confessed.
In their doctrine, at death, one’s soul could go to one of four places: heaven, hell, purgatory, or limbo. The Sacrament of Confession removed the guilt of sin, but not the punishment, which the soul then suffered in purgatory. Eventually, that soul would enter heaven.
Limbo was where the souls of Old Testament saints like Abraham went upon death. Christ’s descent into hell meant that after our Lord opened the gates of heaven by His death on the cross, He went not to hell, but to limbo, to free the Old Testament saints.
For unbaptized babies, limbo was where their souls went permanently. These babies were considered innocent except for original sin, which prevented their entry into heaven as they were unbaptized.
On All Souls Day, November 2, special Masses were said at the side altars concurrent with the main Mass celebrated at the main altar. The special side altar Masses were for the repose of the souls in purgatory to speed their entry into heaven.
The Protestant Reformers were vilified for rebelling against the Church rather than addressing the abuses in the Church within the Church’s framework. Luther was pictured in our history textbook carrying a firebrand and leading the Peasants’ Revolt. The priest who taught sixth grade religion said that the incident of Luther throwing an inkwell at an apparition of the Devil showed that he was insane. Protestant doctrine differed from Catholic doctrine because Protestants cut out from the Bible the parts they did not like.
My strict Roman Catholic upbringing did not bring me a sense that I was at peace with God. During high school, I was an agnostic. What led to my coming to faith in Christ as my Savior was my enrollment at North Park College, operated by the Evangelical Covenant Church, a denomination which came from a Reformed breakaway from the Swedish State Lutheran Church.
While I took no religion classes at North Park, in my one year there as a student, my professors and fellow students showed an evangelical spirit emanating from the Gospel, something I did not experience in the Roman Catholic Church.
In my late twenties, I officially broke from the Roman Catholic Church and have happily been a member of ELS and WELS congregations since.
A few years ago, at a function of the Polish Cultural Society of St. Louis to which I belong, a Roman Catholic nun who was in attendance, after learning that I was a Lutheran, said to me, “Luther was right. You can’t earn the forgiveness of your sins.”
Yes, Luther was right. I am grateful that God led me in my spiritual journey to a saving knowledge of Christ, where I found the forgiveness of all my sins, full and free.
“
Why am I a Lutheran?”
by TONY VERKINNES
Bethany Lutheran Church, Princeton, Minnesota
My name is Tony Verkinnes, and I’m a Lutheran. I might be a little too proud of that statement as I’ve only been one for around 15 of my 66 years.
It’s been quite the journey, and I’ve had a hard time deciding on how best to tell this amazing adventure, so I decided I’d tell you about my niggles. Niggles are those feelings or thoughts you get when things are okay, maybe even good, but not quite right.
I was born and raised by good Roman Catholic parents: church on Sunday, Holy Days of Obligation, and 12 years of Catholic school. I was an altar boy, and even sang in the youth choir. All was fine until my teen years arrived, and with them, the niggles.
Questions started coming: papal infallibility, why do we receive only the bread/body at the Eucharist, why is God mad at us but Mary can get Jesus to do stuff, and why were the homilies on Sunday always about money and how we were expected to give more? None of these questions were answered for me.
I didn’t do much about these Roman Catholic niggles until my mom died, and I blamed God for lying to me. It’s a long story, and He didn’t, but then began about 10 years of wandering in the desert. Not my best times.
My desert niggles involved looking into other religions. But looking East brought more niggles. Sikhism, Buddhism, and Shinto all depended on me for whatever version of everlasting life they had in mind. I knew that I would fail, hard, and so would all of the people I knew. They’re not a vile bunch, but they are human, and humans will always fail at salvation.
So it was back to looking at Christianity; but not Rome, Luther, or Canterbury…they all sounded like the same gobbledygook. I thought I would look at others, but the Latter Day Saints, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and other outliers had the same problem as the Eastern religions. They all said that I was the one who had to get myself into heaven, and that, along with some mind-bending teachings, made it hard to bring me into the fold.
I’d run out of options. I knew there was a God and that I was not Him, and one of those desert niggles keeps prodding me toward Christianity. Luckily, my daughter saved the day. A friend of hers, and the daughter of my boss, invited my little girl to church. We said yes, and she was giddy about it upon arriving home. Being good parents, we thought we’d best check it out. Long story short, the next 19 years were spent in Protestant Charismatic, Pentecostal, Baptist, and Evangelical Free churches. You’ve probably guessed it. The niggles didn’t leave.
This was a unique tour. Each church taught me something and gave me new Protestant niggles, and I thank the Lord for that.
While each Protestant stop had its own, specific niggles, a few were consistent across the board: Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were just symbolic; Mary, the Mother of God, was downgraded or just ignored; and the biggest was that I had to choose Jesus to be saved. Eternity and faith were things I could muster up for myself. And, when I accepted Jesus, I got a new nature. The old sinful one was gone, and a new, shiny Christian nature was installed. I bet you can guess the problem with all of these. Me!
In the midst of my Protestant days, I found out about Martin Luther through a magazine called Christian History. It would take almost a decade of bouncing from self-righteousness to despair in these Protestant churches before I started the slow process of becoming a Lutheran. I am what is technically called a slow learner, but I learn.
My first baby steps lead me to “The Wittenberg Trail,” an early internet hangout for confessional Lutherans and seekers. People like me. I met two Jennifers and a Kelly who were instrumental in my conversion, and I am eternally grateful to them and the others who put up with me and my questions asked over and over again.
Eventually, I asked about a “real” Lutheran Church I could visit, and to my surprise, one of the Jennifers not only attended one, but Christ Lutheran Church was in my town. Quite the coincidence, if you believe in that sort of thing.
Suffice it to say, after two failed attempts, I stepped through the door at Christ Lutheran Church, at Princeton’s Historic Depot, and the niggles stopped, gone, ended. I have no explanation. Well, I kind of do. It’s a God thing.
It hasn’t been all unicorns and roses, but this little church was perfect for me, from Pastor and Mrs. Lawson, to the crew that hung on until the end when the church finally had to close. I love them dearly. Now, after around three years, I’m getting the hang of a bit bigger of a church, Bethany Lutheran Church. Pastor Gernander was there when I transferred over, and now Pastor Webber is stuck with me, and I couldn’t be in a better place.
So, why am I a Lutheran? Because it is, without a doubt, the most Gospel-oriented bunch of saints and sinners I’ve ever found, where Jesus really is at the center of everything. It teaches what the Bible teaches, even if parts didn’t make sense to me at first. Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and Confession bring to me exactly what Scripture says they bring: forgiveness, faith, and life. The Book of Concord is the finest confession of Christianity I’ve ever been blessed to read, and it doesn’t get rewritten to fit with the latest whims of man.
There are other reasons, and my only regret is that my pig-headedness kept me from finding this sooner.
I am a slow learner, but I do learn. That’s why I’m proud to be a Lutheran!
Sola Fide Sola Gratia Sola Christus Sola Fide Sola Gratia Sola Christus
by SUSIE PEASE Trinity Lutheran Church, Brewster, Massachusetts
I grew up a Baptist among Lutherans out in the country long ago, and far away from Trinity Lutheran, a mission church of the ELS in Cape Cod, MA.
Mine was a happy and loving upbringing, my parents steeping my siblings and me in the life of a vibrant Southern Baptist congregation. Extended family and the families of the church were largely our choice of friends and fellowship. Hospitality was reciprocal and rich. We were in church Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night prayer meeting, with weeks-long revival meetings here and there.
We heard the Bible read aloud, memorized the books of the Bible, and learned many verses by heart.
We sang! There was always singing: hymns and choruses based on scriptures, Bible stories, salvation themes, service in God’s kingdom, winning the world for Christ. My family loved to sing, and music penetrates and it is stored away down deep.
We prayed! From our hearts, not like the Roman Catholics who (horrors!) read prayers already written down. At the table, we asked God’s blessings on our food and at our bedsides for Him to bless and keep our loved ones one-by-one. We also gave thanks for the blessings of the day.
We learned the fate of kids who failed to honor their parents, be a credit to their families, obey the law of the land, and have a good attitude. To do right or suffer the consequences, ask and receive forgiveness, stand ready to forgive whoever wronged you.
In due time, when you could see you needed God’s forgiveness for not doing all those, and you had connected Christmas, Easter, and the Resurrection so that He could forgive you, you told your folks, your pastor, and the church that you wanted to be baptized and received into the membership. Your baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost symbolized and declared to the world and the devil that you wanted to be reborn a child of God. Around eight years of age, I made this declaration. All was well.
Full up with praise for my “scholarship,” I went off to college. Amongst many new acquaintances to whom these ideas were laughable, I admit to my shame that I unzipped and shed my childhood identity. I re-fashioned myself a mocking, intellectually adventuring child of the New Age in human experience and enlightenment. And there seemed to be no consequences… except a growing estrangement from my family. Oh, well, I had a whole new approving circle of friends sharing the excitement. We could stay up late and drink beer, listen to radical new music, ponder existential propositions, go see “Waiting for Godot.” Time passed.
Rudderless and without ballast in uncharted depths, I drifted a long way in both geography and relationship from my family. Marriage (not to a Christian), children, the hard realities of life presented problems and raised questions but provided no answers. A motto from Cicero resurfaced in my consciousness and tormented me: “To be, rather than to seem.” How? How to be a good wife, a good mother, good friend, heck, a good person? It wasn’t in me, except to try. I started with all the knowledge, exposure to Truth, good examples, and human love for which anyone could ask. But now, no chart and no stars. I was adrift.
were the beginnings of a mysterious work. I got The Lutheran Hymnal and read the hymns’ poetry. I felt like fresh air was blowing on my face, even as it dried tears.
Two of my daughters had married men in that Pentecostal denomination who had determined to become pastors and were off into life trying hard, too. But events in their lives and the denomination alarmed my heart. I began to visit the Lutheran church. I heard the Creeds, was moved by the orderly beauty of the service, marveled at the comfort the liturgical repetition provided, was overcome praying the Lord’s Prayer aloud in that company.
In trying to examine what I actually believed to be true about God, my relationship to Him, and how these affected my daily living, I agreed to come under the care and instruction of the Pastor of that church.
Many misunderstandings were reversed as he expounded God’s Word with Lutheran understanding: the reality of Christ’s body and blood in the Supper; the power of the sacramental mysteries of the Triune God including Baptism; that the church service was the Good Shepherd Himself serving Himself to us, not our coming to serve Him.
I am living these past 13 years since the church received me in the confidence of the gifts our good God gives, by faith alone, by grace alone, in Christ alone. I am in the care and feeding of a wonderful under shepherd at Trinity Lutheran Church.
Then the anvil landed on my head. “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to Him.”
I am a Lutheran because of the truth in Dr. Martin Luther’s explanation of the Third Article of the Apostles’ Creed. The lights came in “…But the Holy Ghost has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with His gifts, sanctified and kept me….In the same way He calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian Church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one true faith…”
Awaiting the birth of my second child, I read the laundromat’s Christian Science tracts and got Mary Baker Eddy’s books from the library. Back on Cape Cod, a neighbor invited me to her Congregational church. I got lost in the acronyms from all the projects and committees of the United Church of Christ (UCC). I followed her into a just-forming Pentecostal church. Among the dozens of people who gathered to try to love God and live for Him, I survived the shipwreck of my marriage and was blessed by the kindness and friendship of that gathering who, like me, were trying so hard.
Then into my life struggles, our good and loving Father sent a Lutheran pastor’s wife to be my supervising teacher. Her friendship, our conversations about family and church, and an invitation to hear the Bethany Lutheran College Choir sing
I was given faith by God the Holy Spirit. I no longer carry the burden of trying. I am living these past 13 years since the church received me in the confidence of the gifts our good God gives, by faith alone, by grace alone, in Christ alone. I am in the care and feeding of a wonderful under shepherd at Trinity Lutheran Church. Because: “…In this Christian Church He daily and richly forgives me and all believers all our sins, and at the last day He will raise up me and all the dead and give to me and all believers in Christ eternal life. This is most certainly true.”
And maybe no “natural born and infant baptized” Lutheran has ever delighted more in the beautiful way the Church observes the remembrances and celebrations through the seasons of the Church Year than this once anti-sacramental, completely-ignorant of the historic Church, redeemed by grace adoptee into this marvelous life. I am forever grateful.
“
am I a Lutheran?”
by PASTOR MICHAEL K. SMITH
Bethany Lutheran Church, Ames, Iowa Vice President of the ELS
May 13, 1962. That’s the day my two older sisters and I were baptized, and the day my parents became charter members of a Lutheran Church in America (LCA, one of the predecessor bodies of the ELCA) mission congregation. And thus my journey in Lutheranism began.
I really don’t remember much about being in the LCA when I was younger. We went to church, Sunday school, VBS—all the “typical” activities of a church member. When my dad decided to become a pastor, I started to get an inkling of something being a bit off-kilter. I have vague memories of arguments between my mom and dad over what the Bible teaches. My dad, you see, who was raised nominally Christian, was being thoroughly indoctrinated in liberal theology at an LCA seminary. My mom, who was raised staunch Methodist, was objecting to the liberal teachings my dad brought home. She kept holding on to her faith no matter what my dad believed.
Confirmation class was also an eye-opener. My dad, who was also my pastor, didn’t believe in what the Bible—much less the catechism—taught. I don’t recall learning anything of substance during those two years.
About a year after I was confirmed, God working through His Word brought my dad back to faith. He started preaching and teaching the Bible. Many in that church couldn’t go along with what he was teaching. But even more could. So my dad led over half the congregation out of the LCA and started a new congregation in town that would eventually be a part of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod (LCMS).
Thus far I hadn’t had a choice: I simply followed my family in this trek through Lutheranism. I didn’t make another move from one Lutheran body to another until I was three-quarters of the way through seminary.
But I need to back up. When I went to college, I planned to become an orthodontist. Majoring in biology at a large secular university, I was going to try to get into dental school after three years instead of four. But I found myself concerned only with my grades, not really enjoying what I was studying. Then God hit me with a crazy thought: Why not become a pastor?
A pastor?! Eventually I agreed and transferred to an LCMS college to study Greek and Hebrew. I met a young lady there named Anita who was studying to be a deaconess, and who was born and raised in the LCMS. Life was good.
Off to seminary I went, and Anita and I married after my first year (after she graduated college). At the close of my second year, I was assigned to a vicarage that would be a turning point in my (now our) journey in Lutheranism.
I won’t relate all the details of how those initial months of vicarage changed our lives. In a nutshell: my supervisor was a higher-critical, ecumenical, charismatic pastor. I was serving at a congregation where my primary responsibility was helping with its campus ministry at a secular university. Anita and I
lived in a campus house with twelve students. At our regular worship services at the church, we had open communion. We also had communion services at the campus house and sometimes a pastor outside our fellowship presided over the services. Even the students I served in the campus ministry knew the pastor didn’t really believe all of the Bible. My supervising pastor often participated in ecumenical community worship services. Periodically, we had special worship services at our church at which people were “prayed over” so they could be healed or receive the “gift” of speaking in tongues.
After communicating all this to the vicarage supervisor at the seminary, after conversations with the district president, and after even more conversations with the seminary’s vicarage supervisor, I was given the option to terminate my vicarage. I took it. Not an easy decision, to be sure, but I couldn’t see myself continuing to serve there under such unbiblical and non-Lutheran circumstances.
After a couple of months, I was assigned to serve another vicarage in an emergency situation. I look back at that congregation and believe it could have been an ELS or WELS congregation because it was so orthodox in belief and practice. It was a breath of fresh air and a relief to serve where I was not constantly concerned about letting my conservative biblical/ Lutheran beliefs be known. The flock I served shared those beliefs.
As the months wound down and we looked toward my final year of seminary, Anita and I started thinking about the type of congregation I might be assigned to. Would it be like my first vicarage congregation or my second? What if it were like the first? Not good. What if it were like the second? Pretty good. But how would I, in good conscience, serve in a synod where there was such plurality of belief and practice? (Side note: after I left my first vicarage congregation, the synod [district] made no changes there. In fact, another vicar was immediately sent to replace me.)
It was difficult to think about leaving the LCMS, especially since it had been Anita’s church her entire life. But we forged ahead. After a conversation with ELS Pres. George Orvick, we visited Bethany Lutheran Theological Seminary and met with Pres. Wilhelm Petersen and Prof. Juul Madson. Their evangelical answers to all our questions and willingness to take me in as a student won us over. We moved to Mankato for my final year of seminary training.
Our adjustment to a new Lutheran church body had its challenges. What is this thing called “Rite One?” Why are there so many names in this synod that end in -stad? Why does it seem everyone’s related to someone? But one thing we discovered and is still true today: the ELS’ commitment to God’s Word. The members of the ELS do not waver in their belief that God’s Word is what it says it is. With that as the foundation of everything we believe and do, what more can we ask for?
The ELS is a treasure in so many ways. Naturally, this is not to anyone’s credit; our gracious God preserves us in the truth of His Word. Our journey in Lutheranism has been interesting to be sure. We feel blessed to be where we are.
“Why am I a Lutheran?”
by CHRIS HOFFMAN
Lutheran Church, West Jordan, Utah
A ‘None’ is a term widely used to indicate someone who is either atheist, agnostic, or otherwise uncommitted to an organized religion. I was raised as a None. Growing up in Utah, I knew very few Christians. Mormons (members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) were also noticeably quiet about their faith. It seems as if those who were Latter-day Saints (LDS) in Utah assumed they had all the members there that they were going to get. If you were not already Mormon in 1980’s Utah, maybe there was an assumption that you were never going to be. “The Church,” as it is called here, permeated everything.
My father was brought up in the LDS church but was no longer active by the time he married my mother. My mother was baptized in a Lutheran church in Washington state. However, following her parents’ divorce and relocation, she did not maintain any connection with the Lutheran church that could be passed on to her children. In our home, we did not attend services, talk about Jesus, or read scripture. At the time, I knew that I was a sinner. I knew of Jesus, but not about Him. I had some sense that He was God, but I also knew that the Father was God. I knew little to nothing about the Holy Spirit and spent no time reflecting on what this meant.
As a boy, I went to a VBS sponsored by a local Lutheran church, but the only memory I have is of the cool sandals one of the boys wore. On a number of occasions, I attended services at the local LDS “ward house,” a kind of a congregation. In the local LDS church, there was a painting in the narthex that showed Joseph Smith’s first vision, but I remember thinking to myself that the vision did not ring true. In junior and senior high school, there were two distinct and separate camps: those that were LDS and those who were not. We who were not LDS spent much of our time trying to out-sin one another or attempted to bring those who were LDS to our side. I did not know any Christians, and if I did, they sure kept quiet about it.
As a young police officer in the early 1990’s, I worked very closely with a man named Rodger. Rodger and I happened to go to the same high school and were scheduled to go to the same police academy class. Although we knew one another, we were not friends. We were both hired by the same police department and found ourselves assigned to the same shift on graveyard patrol. Rodger grew up in the LDS church and had become disaffected. He recently started going through adult instruction while attending Hope Lutheran Church in West Jordan. As we sat in our patrol cars in a church parking lot on a lonely graveyard shift, I heard about Jesus, about how Jesus died for me, and about how sinners were saved by grace through faith in Christ. Rodger gave me my first Bible and brought me to church. He then introduced me to Greg Sahlstrom. Rodger had a
name for him, “Pastor.” It may sound funny, but I had never used that word before. Pastor Sahlstrom wore a clerical collar, and to me it gave him credibility. I had never spoken to a man who wore a clerical collar in my entire life. As we studied and I read scripture, it became clear that what this pastor was telling me was the same thing that the Bible said. Two years went by. I attended church at times and slowly went through instruction. After the birth of our first child, Chloe, I knew that she needed to be baptized even though I still had not been. In May 1998, Christ brought my little daughter to the font where God placed His name on her head and on her heart so that she might be His. A week later I joined her. After the birth of our second daughter, Grace, and her baptism, my wife would also join this family of believers.
One thing struck me as I continued to learn about Jesus: my teachers and pastors were unafraid of questions. Although not all answers came immediately, they did come. This confession did not bow to the whims of the current cultural climate, and the answers I received did not come with the caveat that “God may have said this, but He meant something else.” The answers were always scriptural and unapologetic.
If I may be so bold, I would like to offer just a few words of advice:
• Do not assume people know what Christianity is. As we continue in this secular age, cultural Christianity is waning and does not teach even the basic tenants of the faith like it may have in the past. I knew so little about Jesus, I knew nothing of the Trinity, and needed to be led by faithful pastors and my church family every step of the way.
• For pastors, seeing a pastor wearing a collar had a powerful impact on how I viewed him. As a police officer, I wear a badge, the symbol of my vocation. This symbol allows people who might need my help identify me and seek my services. In the same way, your collar is the symbol of your office. It helps identify you as someone who can be of assistance to those in great need.
• Do not be afraid to share your faith. My conversations with my friend were instrumental in my coming to faith. God is amazing. Rodger was serving his neighbor as Christ had intended, and four souls were brought to the baptismal font because of this.
Through my journey, I can thankfully say that I am no longer a None. I continued to study after I came into the church. I continue to be fascinated that there is no need to shoehorn scripture to fit with confessional theology. The text of scripture is plain and coincides with the faith that I had fallen backwards into. I am blessed to have found my home in this confession, the confession of “One Thing Needful.”
Hope
ANNOUNCING THE:
2025 CONVENTION THEME
Lutheran Synod
69th Annual Meeting of Bethany Lutheran College, Inc.
10th Annual Meeting of the Lutheran Schools of America, Inc.
“Bondage of the Will: ‘I Cannot by My Own Reason or Strength…’”
June 15–19, 2025
Bethany Lutheran College | Mankato, Minnesota
SYNOD SUNDAY / June 15
4:00 / Synod Sunday Service
Preacher: Pastor Daniel Oberer (Rosemount, MN)
Liturgist: Pastor Andrew Burmeister (Medford, OR)
5:00 / Dinner (free will donation)
MONDAY / June 16
9:00 / Opening Convention Service
Chaplain: Pastor Andrew Burmeister (Medford, OR)
1:00 / Anniversaries Observed:
Timothy Bartels 40 years
Mark DeGarmeaux 40 years
Rodney Flohr 40 years
Doyle Holbird 40 years
Dennis Marzolf 40 years
Donald Moldstad 40 years
John Petersen 40 years
Thomas Rank 40 years
Matthew Brooks 25 years
Matthew Crick 25 years
Bradley Kerkow 25 years
Shawn Stafford 25 years
TUESDAY / June 17
9:00 / Devotion
Preacher: Pastor Colin Anderson (Suttons Bay, MI)
10:00 / Convention Essay
Essayist: Pastor David Jay Webber (Princeton, MN)
5:00 / Communion/Memorial Service
Preacher: Pastor Mark DeGarmeaux (Mankato, MN)
Ione Lillegard (1938–2024)
June Moldstad (1938–2024)
Ardyce Bartels (1930–2024)
Laurie Sullivan (1957–2024)
WEDNESDAY / June 18
8:00 / Devotion
“1,700th Anniversary of the Nicene Creed”
Preacher: Gaylin Schmeling (Mankato, MN)
9:30 / Convention Essay - continued
THURSDAY / June 19
8:00 / Unfinished Business
Sharing a Mother’s Love
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor 13:7).
by PASTOR JAMES KASSERA Secretary, ELS Board of Christian Service
Mother’s Day often reminds us of the impact a loving person can have on our lives. Having someone to celebrate and rejoice with us on our best days is a great blessing from God. We are also blessed to have someone to help us through the dark times when we are struggling, suffering, or questioning life itself. Often, a loving mother provides the support we need to keep going. Love helps us endure.
Our Evangelical Lutheran Synod has always collected a Mother’s Day Offering which supports our ELS World Needs Fund. With this fund, we have been able to show God’s love and care by helping people around the world. All the violence, natural disasters, and hardship we see on the news put many people into a dark place in their lives. Our acts of love can help them endure and see that their God still loves and cares for them.
To donate, you may:
• Use this special online link: els.org/worldneeds
• Direct your offerings through your church.
• Send your gift directly to the Synod: ELS World Needs Fund Evangelical Lutheran Synod 6 Browns Court Mankato, MN 56001
Mother’s Day is a time to thank God for the love and care He provides through the moms in our lives. We also thank God and pray for the continued love and care He provides through these generous gifts from all of you.
To God alone be all glory. Happy Mother’s Day!
The Twenty-Eighth Annual Meeting of the
“The
First
Decade of ELS
Growth”
Presented by Pastor Paul Webber Hymn by the Norseland singers
Sunday, June 15, 2025, 6:30 p.m.
Bethany Lutheran College Lee Theater of the Ylvisaker Fine Arts Center Mankato, Minnesota
A brief business meeting will follow the program. Everyone is welcome to attend.
