My Confession as a Theologian

When I was considering attending seminary, many people asked me why I wanted to go. I told them that I was interested in studying theology. I now realize that I didn’t really know what I was talking about. It is true, in a sense, that theology is a field of study as is history or science, but it is much more than simply an academic discipline.
When one thinks of a theologian, great thinkers of the past like Martin Luther or Augustine may come to mind. Perhaps one may conjure of an image of a theologian as man with horn-rimmed glasses and tweed jacket, sitting in a leather chair smoking a pipe. In reality, a theologian may be someone just entering first grade or someone beginning retirement. Everyone who lives and breathes is a theologian, whether they know it or not.
If you think about a god, you are a theologian. Notice the little “g.” Some people believe in God, but indeed everyone has a god. As a Lutheran, I confess with the church that a god is anything in which you put your trust, whether is your paycheck or the Triune God. As Christians, we do not simply say things about God as if he was just a topic of study, but we speak to him. Also in proclaiming His message of salvation, we may speak for God, or to put it another way, He may use us to speak his Gospel. This proclamation is what I strive for as theologian.
Let me back up a bit. I don’t want to discount the work of speaking about God–and this is not simply because I own horn-rimmed glasses, a tweed jacket, a leather chair and a pipe. It is important to speak about God. We need to deeply consider various doctrines and certain attributes of God. However, if that’s all we do, we get nowhere. It must lead to proclaiming the gospel in the present time to individuals. For example, I used to have discussions in high school and college about doctrines like freewill and predestination. My friends and I used to go back and forth and around and around trying to find a solution. While my mind was stretched and friendships were deepened during these conversations, the problem is, I don’t remember those conversations pointing to Christ and his promise to forgive us and grant us life. Things were kept at an intellectual level and at arm’s length. We discussed doctrines that did not impact us personally at the present time with the message of the Gospel. It is essential to discuss what God does, but if that never leads to the proclamation of the Gospel, one is not able to be impacted by the living and present God. All the talking about God remains just that: talking.
In having conversations about God with my friends, I used to feel like I really needed to figure Him out. I wanted to get inside the mind of God. I felt that He did a lot of things that seemed unfair. For example, when I was thirteen, my father became sick, was unable to continue working, and became homebound. My mother left him around the same time. I wondered, “How could God let this happen?”
I’ve come to realize that there is a desire in all of us that wants to know how God works and wants to be the recipient of good things here on earth. God’s words to Job apply to us and similarly should break down our walls and cut to our hearts as well: “Were you there when I laid the foundations of the world?”
There is absolutely no way that any of us can comprehend the mind of God. It is futile. Imagine your dog wanting an explanation for why he must wear a leash or why he must not eat at the table with you. A dog is a dog and not a human. Our questioning of God is even more absurd. God is God and we are not.
We are not promised that all will be smooth sailing in this life. Everyone deals with this, especially God’s people. We all experience death, divorce, tragedy, pain and deceit. It is important to mourn in difficult situations, but also to recognize that God is God and we are not. In this life, there will be suffering.
There are many places where God has simply not revealed himself. Something bad happens and there is no way to know why God allowed it to happen, but he has. The tragedy is painful. It hurts. In spite of our pain, we still know where God has indeed revealed himself: in the work of Christ on the cross. This promise will always stand, no matter what may happen to us in this world.
The amazing thing about Christianity is that the historical event of Christ dying on the cross 2,000 years ago is just as relevant today as it was then. Christ redeemed us from our sins by grace through faith–a gift entirely from Him. When Christ’s forgiveness is proclaimed from one person to another or in the words of a sermon, Holy Absolution, Baptism, or the Lord’s Supper, it is that same forgiveness he won on the cross spoken personally to us at the present time. That is what all our speaking about God should lead to, whether in discussing doctrines or in the midst of tragedy. If it doesn’t, it’s not the Gospel and cannot bring life.
Unfortunately, there are times that I have not been faithful in proclaiming that Gospel. My best friend was married soon after college, but after a year and a half, he was divorced. In the midst of the situation, some members of the clergy treated him poorly. My friend has since renounced his faith and is in many ways, hostile to Christianity. I now realize that as he was dealing with the divorce and its effects, I didn’t help him very much. He wondered why he was experiencing such things and I tried to think of positive things that could come from the situation. What terrible advice. I foolishly tried to get my friend to look past the situation and the suffering, but when bad things happen we must mourn.
I also tried to apologize for God, but he doesn’t need me to try and make him look good. God allows tragedies to happen and doesn’t protect us from the pain. He is God and he does what he wants and allows what he allows. Worst of all, I failed to proclaim the present forgiveness of Christ to my friend. Indeed, I spoke about God, a distant god that may or may not be in control of things. I criticized the bad advice he received from pastors, but I was no better. Without speaking Christ’s forgiveness to him, I was speaking more words of despair.
If I were able to revisit that situation with my friend, this is what I would wish say to him: “It saddens me to see you go through this. It is something that you will mourn for quite a while. As you know, bad things happen in this world and God allows them. I don’t know why. As much pain as you may feel and as much as you may not understand how God works, there is still hope because God’s promises remain true. We may not understand his ways, but his promises never fail. In spite of your pain and mourning, you may take assurance that you are still forgiven because of Christ’s work on the cross. No matter your circumstance, and especially right now, Christ offers his forgiveness to you. The world may crumble around us, we may be in complete despair, but Christ’s work on the cross is our solid anchor. Through no work of our own, we are proclaimed to be free from our debt of sin. No work of sin, death, the world, or the devil can take this promise away from us. Now is a time for you to mourn. I mourn with you. But in light of your pain, especially in light of your pain, know that right now, Christ gives his forgiveness to you.”
After my friend’s divorce, I too ended up falling away from the church. I saw no need to attend services. I felt I could get a better message by reading a book or listening to a sermon online, that I could listen to better music from my music collection, and I could get better fellowship with my friends.
Then I discovered the Christian faith as professed in the Lutheran confessions. I had attended various churches my whole life, but had rarely heard the gospel proclaimed for me at the present time. Sometimes Jesus was talked about, but usually I heard good rules for daily living.
I realized that there was something wrong with how church and preaching had been done, but couldn’t put my finger on it. Then I went to a Lutheran church. I was a little scared because the pastor wore robes, chanted, and read prayers from a book. Then he got up to preach. Whoa! I followed along. “Yes. I’m terrible. I agree. I feel bad. Now what do I have to do?” But then something happened that seemed like I had not experienced before. The pastor said that Christ died for me and that through the Word and the Lord’s Supper he continues to give me that forgiveness. Had I not arrived late, I would have heard that forgiveness for me in the words of absolution as well. I heard the law of God¬¬–what he demands and how I can never perfectly follow that Law. I was killed. Then I heard the gospel–only because of Christ and his work alone am I saved by grace through faith that He grants.
I learned that in God’s house, forgiveness is proclaimed though the preaching of the Word and the administration of the sacraments. I am killed by the Law and made alive through the Gospel. That killing and making alive is essential. It is also essential to know when to apply either the law or the gospel. If someone is living in unrepentant sin, he needs the law to crush him, but if someone already feels the sting of the law, he does not need more law. He needs the comfort of the Gospel. For instance, when my father became ill, was unable to work, and my mother left him, he was in despair. He did not need to hear that he was a sinner and was not following God’s law. He needed to hear that Christ grants him forgiveness.
When my friend got divorced, he did not need to hear God’s law either, he was in despair. He needed Christ’s forgiveness proclaimed to him. My dad was told to pray harder, and I told my friend that maybe he got married too young or should have seen warning signs. I tried to find way that he could have prevented the situation instead of offering Christ’s forgiveness to him.
Growing up, I heard lots of law but I don’t remember much talk at all about Christ dying on the cross for my sins, much less that being proclaimed to me directly at that present time. I wanted to become a pastor because I wanted to tell people not only about the law, but the gospel. It wasn’t until I arrived at the seminary that I began to realize more about the idea of direct proclamation of that gospel from God to people at the present time–“doing” the gospel to people. It happens in preaching, but it’s not just that. It happens in Absolution, the Lord’s Supper, Baptism, and in conversation. I love talking about God, but all the talk about MUST drive to that forgiveness of sins. If I become the pastor of your church and fail to proclaim Christ crucified for the redemption of sinners (Right now! For you!), rebuke me. If I continue to do it, tear the collar from my neck and toss me out the church doors. Christ. For us. Right now. That is what it’s all about.