An Admonishment

Return to Piety. By: John Bigham Jr

It has been almost one year to the day since I decided to revisit my local LCMS church: Saint Peter Evangelical Lutheran Church in Dorchester, Wisconsin. I live about five miles from there, and I had previously visited once, a few years earlier, with a good friend of mine who is a devout Lutheran. I was basically dragged through the door that first Sunday. I remember it vividly. It was a fifth Sunday in May, which, according to this congregation’s tradition, meant it was the Sunday for Luther’s Deutsche Messe. Whatever on earth that was supposed to be.

I had no idea what was going on, but that didn’t stop me from harshly judging my surroundings. I couldn’t figure out the bulletin. Where are we? What’s happening now? I refused to participate in the entire service. I wasn’t going to associate myself with these “Catholics” and their silly pre-printed worship. We Mennonites worship from the heart! None of this canned nonsense! I’m not sure what shocked me more—the “idolatrous shrine” at the front of the church, or the fact that the pastor thought he had the power to forgive our sins. The gall of that man! Who did he think he was? Christ Himself?

I laugh now when I think back to that day. Oh, how immature I was.

Fast forward to the first Sunday in Advent a few years later, and here I was, willingly walking through the doors of the same church in my stiff, black, Mennonite straight-cut suit for another visit. I had long been disgruntled with the lack of gospel teaching in my home congregation, which belongs to the conservative Mennonite tradition (1963 Mennonite Confession of Faith). I had always thought that the Mennonite church failed to emphasize the gospel as strongly as Scripture does, but I had resigned myself to the belief that I would never find a church that truly got it right. The evangelicals were too loose for me. And I genuinely loved my Mennonite church. I loved Mennonite culture. I still do.

My only critique was that the teachings of the Mennonite church were lacking and often failed to offer the true consolation that comes from the gospel of Christ.

Both the ministry and the laity in the Mennonite church are gracious and humble people.

I had also begun studying church history and the liturgy.

I was still on the fence about baptism, and for that reason, I never saw myself as a candidate for converting to the Confessional Lutheran Church. But the Holy Spirit, working through the Word of God, had other plans. I didn’t just visit Saint Peter one more time. I found myself wanting to return every Sunday. The gospel teaching was so unmistakably clear.

The liturgy was beautiful.

Scriptural.

True.

The hymns were doctrinally pure; none of the revivalistic garbage that had crept into the Mennonite hymnal. I continued visiting off and on throughout Advent, again on Christmas Day, and then through Lent and Easter. It was during Lent that I realized there was no going back. I had never experienced a church so relentlessly centered on Christ given for the sins of the world. I was drawn in against my will. I scheduled a sit-down conversation with the deacon of my Mennonite church. Leaving the Mennonite church is a big deal; it must be done carefully, or you risk burning bridges that can never be rebuilt. Thankfully, I wasn’t overly concerned because my church had wise and understanding ministers.

I had a good relationship with my deacon, as we’d had many conversations while I was going through personal trials the year before. He had already suspected, through my Facebook posts and my many weeks of absence from services, that I was considering switching churches. He was very gracious and understanding. We agreed that I would read a letter of resignation before the congregation and explain the reasons for my decision. The leadership was gracious enough to grant me a peaceful release.

I began membership classes with Rev. Pr. Shawn Andersen at Saint Peter immediately. I was confirmed on July 27 of this year, with a full acceptance of the doctrine of the efficacy of baptism.

Thanks be to God.

The switch has not been without its challenges, mostly cultural ones. My lifestyle has changed very little since joining the Lutheran Church, aside from the occasional necktie (gasp). Nor do I plan for it to change. I did not leave the Mennonite church out of spite or from a desire to live a hedonistic life. I still value the humble, pious lifestyle of the Mennonites, and I still have many Mennonite friends. And because of that love, I want to talk about piety: more specifically, the lack of it in the Lutheran Church.

Many of you may not know much about the Mennonite church. Perhaps you know them as a somewhat insular group of farming families, many of whom run home-based businesses you may have patronized. But the Mennonite community is strong and growing. Statistics suggest that conservative Anabaptists (Amish and Mennonites) have doubled their membership in the last 25 years, almost all of it through internal growth. Meanwhile, the LCMS has lost half its membership in the same period. A lack of piety is partially to blame.

Mennonites do not concern themselves with societal or political change. Their focus is on the church community. They support one another. They lift each other up in times of need. They are, without exaggeration, some of the most hospitable people you will ever meet—truly hospitable, not out of duty but out of love. If you have not experienced Mennonite hospitality, you don’t know what you’re missing. Mennonite Sunday dinners are unmatched.

Traveling to another state? Pull out your Mennonite church directory and find someone you know, or someone who knows someone you know. Give them a call. You will have a hot supper and a warm bed waiting when you arrive. You could even be a total stranger, and they would welcome you into their home with open arms.

Mennonites also support one another’s businesses, many of which are family-based. The family works together toward a common goal, and when that is not possible and the husband must work outside the home, the mother is at home caring for the children. This is the societal norm among Mennonites. They have largely rejected the modern “two kids and a minivan” culture. They have lots of children, sometimes even a dozen. Fifteen-passenger vans filled to capacity are the norm, not the exception. They take the mandate to “be fruitful and multiply” seriously.

They teach their own children in their own church schools or through homeschooling.

In fact, in most Mennonite churches, you cannot be a member and send your children to a non–church school. It is this intentional sheltering from our hedonistic and wicked culture that allows the Mennonite community to grow and flourish. They are more concerned with living according to the Word of God than with conforming to societal norms. Along with rejecting public education, the Mennonite church also rejects alcohol, tobacco, television, team sports, tattoos, and other common cultural practices.

Freed from these costly and often addictive habits and time-wasters, they have more time and money to invest in their community. Rather than using their freedom in Christ to chase after the world’s ways, they have collectively chosen to structure their communities in ways that encourage, or even mandate, wise living.

Contrary to popular belief, Mennonites do not doctrinally believe they are saved by their works. Article 6 of The 1963 Mennonite confession of faith states;

“We believe that men are saved, not by character, law, good works, or ceremonies, but by the grace of God. The merits of the death and resurrection of Christ are adequate for the salvation of all men, are offered to all, and are intended for all. Salvation is appropriated by faith in Christ.”

However, Mennonites do believe in a synergistic sanctification, an active outworking of salvation through good works by the assistance of the Holy Spirit. Due to this misunderstanding of sanctification, and because of the lack of consolation that comes from a frequent and clear proclamation of the gospel, many people end up performing good works as an effort to claw their way to God. However, let me be clear: this is not a universal understanding of works within the Mennonite church. Many Mennonites see their works as acts of love born of faith toward God and neighbor, not as attempts to merit God’s favor.

Another point of clarity: as positively as I speak of Mennonite cultural rules, I reject the idea that the church has any authority to legislate beyond what the Law of God mandates, and I would never advocate for the Lutheran Church to imitate the Mennonites in this regard. Yet simply because we have freedom in Christ does not mean we must use that freedom childishly. We have the freedom to live holy and pious lives. This belief in good works is not uniquely a Mennonite confession.

In our own Lutheran confessions, we affirm good works performed out of faith. However, I find that many Lutherans are far more interested in using their freedom in Christ irresponsibly rather than wisely. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of Lutherans who are deeply concerned with living upright and pious lives. But they are not the majority.

The majority of Lutherans I have encountered have fully embraced modern culture, and it is to the detriment of the church. They may come occasionally to hear the Word and receive the Sacrament, but then they return to the world and live just like the world. And when their conscience pricks them a few weeks later, they come back to the church seeking consolation. Yes, we should always give consolation to the repentant sinner! We must also offer admonishment, not as an afterthought, but as the very essence of walking together.

Unless we reclaim a value for sanctified living, our synod will die.

When I read the history of my church (Saint Peter’s), I see accounts of people being excommunicated simply for not paying their church tithe, which sounds extreme to us today. Yet it suggests that historically the Lutheran Church held its members to a much stricter standard of life and discipline. I’m not saying we should start excommunicating non-tithers, but I am asking that we pause and evaluate our current position in light of our roots. What did Lutheran piety look like over the last 500 years? I suspect we will be found wanting.

We should be teaching people to live holy, pious lives, whether that means having large families, abstaining from strong drink, practicing hospitality, or other forms of godly living. Why don’t we counsel against contraception when the creation mandate is to “be fruitful and multiply”? And why is it that instead of rejoicing when I choose not to drink alcohol, people tell me, “You’re free to do it, so why not?” My answer is always the same: “Because I’m free not to do it, too. That’s why.”

I’m free not to drink alcohol. I’m free not to smoke. I’m free not to inject my God-created body with the toxic ink of tattoos.

And I choose not to.

How is it loving, to God, or to my neighbor, to poison the very body He created and called good with substances that rot the liver or blacken the lungs? Is that what God intended for us when He knit us together in our mother’s womb? Is this what it means to honor the body as a temple of the Holy Spirit?

Why is it that in many congregations, people seem more excited when I rush into church late, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, than when I arrive early and dressed respectfully? Why is mediocrity celebrated while reverence is treated as strange? Why do we praise the bare minimum instead of encouraging one another toward excellence in our lives together?

The Pauline epistles teach us, again and again, to stir one another up to good works. And Hebrews 10 says: “let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering; (for he is faithful that promised;) and let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works: not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.” (Hebrews‬ ‭10‬:‭22‬-‭25‬ ‭KJV)

So I offer you my exhortation, as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 7:25: “I have no command from the Lord, but I give my judgment.”

Yes, Christ has set us free. We cannot create man-made laws that bind consciences where God has not spoken. It is this same freedom that also allows us to live differently from the world: to be separate, set apart, a holy people belonging to God (2 Corinthians 6:17; Romans 12:2; 1 John 2:15–17; James 4:4).

Our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. Into these bodies we receive the very body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins. Should we not therefore regard our bodies with the same honor God Himself has bestowed on them? We are not gnostics. We confess the resurrection of the body. Our Lord took on human flesh. God calls our bodies good.

Our homes, churches, schools, and communities are the soil in which the next generation of Christians is growing. Is that soil fertile? Or barren? Does it sustain life? Or nurture death?

As the prophet Micah said, “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.”

John Bigham Jr is a certified organic dairy farmer in Abbotsford, WI, and a member in good standing at St. Peter’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Dorchester, WI.