From the Pastor: The Lord Is Risen

Dear friends,

Sometimes, when the excitement and joy of the Easter celebration has begun to fade, I contemplate the feelings the resurrection must have generated in the disciples. I’m always especially moved by that wonderful passage in John 21 (the gospel lesson for the Third Sunday of Easter this year). It’s the one where Simon Peter is confronted by Jesus for the first time since the resurrection. Simon—for so Jesus calls him in this passage—has decided to go fishing. You can almost sense his “I don’t know what to do know, so I’m going to do what I know how to do” feeling. Then, when he comes to shore, he has this conversation with Jesus that he has probably been dreading.

You can understand how he felt. He had denied his Lord, even after all his protestations that he would never do that! Now he no doubt feels ashamed, feels like a failure. If I were he, my expectation would be that Jesus was going to say some pretty difficult things—if Jesus would even speak to me.

Instead, Jesus simply asks, “Do you love me?” And when Simon replies yes, Jesus says, “Feed my sheep.” In this simple dialogue, Jesus offers a remarkable mercy to Simon. He invites him to express his love—a bit falteringly, perhaps, but still—well, it’s better than having to try to explain and apologize for his betrayal! And then he invites him to pick up where he left off, to renew his intention to be a faithful disciple.

I love that passage because to me it speaks so clearly of what the Christian life—the resurrection life—is about. It is about starting over. It is about admitting to ourselves and to Christ that we have not been faithful disciples, and then hearing his gracious word of mercy. The question, he seems to say, is not “Have you done everything you were supposed to do, and perfectly at that?” The question is, “Do you love me?”

And when we can stutter out those words like Simon, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you,” then he says to us, in essence, “Well, I love you, too. All is forgiven. Now let’s start over.”

Holy Week and Easter is a time when Christian disciples allow themselves to hear those words in a new and powerful way. We know that, as Luther says, Christ did all this—that Christ endured suffering and eath—“so that I may be his own.” In the cross, we see reflected the very disturbing image of our own failures, the depth of our own betrayals; and yet in the empty tomb, we see the much greater depth of Christ’s love for us.

So we contemplate his death on Good Friday, and we lament all the things done and left undone. But then we come to church on Easter knowing that our failures are, in the end, wiped out by God’s incredible mercy and love. It is the reason that we sing “Alleluia”—our fervent answer to his question: “My child, do you love me?”

See you in church this week.

Peace to you,

Pastor Richard O. Johnson

Liturgy Notes: Vestments

One of the most interesting areas of change in the liturgical practices of many churches during the past few decades has been in the use of vestments, or special clothing worn by pastors and other worship leaders. What are liturgical vestments? Why are they worn?

The historical development of vestments is complicated and somewhat cloudy. Most scholars believe that in the earliest centuries of the church, clergy were not identified by any special dress or uniform. Perhaps because clergy have tended to be somewhat conservative, as styles in dress changed, the clergy kept to the "old ways." By the fourth or fifth centuries, men began to wear trousers (introduced by the barbarians, incidentally!). Clergy, however, continued to wear tunics, the white robes that were the every day garb in the Roman era.

As often has happened in the development of the church’s worship, these garments began to be invested with a kind of symbolic value. The white tunic seemed to be a reflection of what the Bible says about the saints surrounding the throne being dressed in white. The old Roman scarf became a symbol of the office of the minister; today that "scarf" remains as the stole which signifies ordination.

At the time of the Reformation, some Protestants reacted against vestments, as they did against other traditions of the church. Many of them began to conduct services in what was for them "ordinary street clothing"; but since these leaders were often professors and scholars, that meant they wore their traditional black academic gown. Among 16th century Lutherans, there was diversity of opinion. In some parts of the church, the traditional vestments remained popular; elsewhere, there was a movement toward the academic gown or even toward complete disuse of any vestment. Thus in the Church of Sweden, the traditional vestments were maintained; while in parts of Germany where there was both strong Lutheran and Reformed presence, the black "Geneva gown" became customary.

In the United States, customs among Lutherans have changed over the years. John G. Morris, writing in 1878, commented that "very few indeed" have adopted the practice of wearing any vestments at all, and he thought it "an innovation which few would sanction." But 90 years later, Arthur Carl Piepkorn could survey Lutheran clergy and find that some 80% wore a cassock and surplice (a long black robe, with a white vestment over it). In the past 30 years, the use of the white robe called the "alb" has become more popular among many Lutheran pastors, as well as among clergy of many other Protestant churches.

Generally speaking, there are three kinds of vestments. One kind might be call ecclesiastical "street clothing." The most common is the black cassock, which would rarely be worn alone in worship, though it might be worn outside of worship by a pastor (sort of like a nurse’s uniform, to identify the nurse even when she or he is not performing as a nurse at the moment). In a sense, it is like a clerical collar—not really a liturgical vestment in and of itself, but something worn beneath a vestment.

Then there are vestments which may be worn by any one who is leading worship—assistants, acolytes, choir members, etc.—ordained or not. The most common today would be the alb (a long white robe, similar to what our acolytes and choir members wear) or its cousin, the surplice (a long white vestment usually worn over a cassock). Some of our lay assisting ministers have lately been wearing albs (especially those who are the right size to wear the ones we have on hand!).

The third type would be vestments that are actually symbols of the pastoral office. The stole is the most common, and it signifies that the person wearing it is an ordained pastor. It is generally the color of the liturgical season, and is said by some to recognize the "yoke" of the pastoral ministry.

You may have noticed some different vestments recently at Peace. The black scarf Pastor Dick has worn at Morning and Evening Prayer is called a "tippet," traditionally worn at the daily prayer services. There are probably two reasons that it is black: first, because it actually originated as an academic hood, and was worn in services that took place daily in an academic setting (e.g., the chapel of a theological school or university). In addition, the Daily Prayer services operate on a track more or less independent form the church’s liturgical calendar; they do not change with the seasons as dramatically as do Sunday liturgies. So the black color emphasizes the "day after day" nature of the prayer services, consistent through all the seasons of the year. The tippet Pastor Dick wears has two symbols on it. One is the Luther Rose, Luther’s famous seal (more about that another time!). The other is the seal of the Society of the Holy Trinity, of which Pastor Dick is a member; it depicts a famous Eastern Orthodox icon of the Holy Trinity.

Another vestment symbolizing the "office of the ministry" is the chasuble, a poncho-like garment that goes over the alb and is worn only by the pastor who is presiding at Holy Communion. It is typically the color of the season. Common in Scandinavian churches and increasingly in American Lutheran churches, it is a festive vestment that symbolizes the very special celebration that is the Eucharist. Peace has recently acquired a white chasuble thanks to a special gift, which we will see during the Easter season (as well as Christmas and some other festivals).

For Lutherans, of course, vestments are in the category of "adiaphora," meaning that they aren’t ultimately important but are simply a matter of custom and preference. Yet they also are one more artistic way in which we represent the special value of our worship, as well as our continuity with the church through the centuries and across the world.

Classic Prayers

O Lord and Master of my life!

Take from me the spirit of sloth,

Faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk,

But give rather the spirit of chastity,

Humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.

Yea, O Lord and King!

Grant me to see my own errors

And not to judge my neighbor;

For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen.

--Ephraem of Syria (306-373 A.D.)