An Appeal for Liturgical Unity
A few months back, a congregation in my circuit suffered a surprise pastoral vacancy. It was a Saturday afternoon. The circuit visitor hastily made arrangements for his own congregation so that he could be free to fill in the next morning at the newly vacant church. Naturally, he referred to the already printed bulletins, prepared to follow whatever order of service he found there.
But what he found was utterly unfamiliar. The previous pastor had created his own liturgy, which was unrecognizable to an outsider. The circuit visitor apologized to the congregation for his inability to lead the liturgy as printed and asked them to open their hymnals to one of the settings of the Divine Service. At the next circuit meeting, he entreated the other pastors of our circuit to stick to the hymnal. I will extend that plea here to the pastors of our synod.
Let us say, for the sake of argument, that you are the most gifted and brilliant liturgist in the history of gifted and brilliant liturgists. By comparison, all who came before you were thieves and liars. Luther, Gerhardt, Bach? Morons. You alone are possessed of the liturgical awareness, the theological acumen, and the musical chops necessary to craft a liturgy that might stir the hearts even of the sinless angels to jealousy. Let us say that all of this, and more, is true. Even so, for the love of all that is holy, stick to the hymnal.
Consider, if nothing else, the mess you will leave for your successor (unless you intend to be the last pastor at your congregation). Gifted as you are, one day you will lead the liturgy for the last time. And then some poor, hapless mortal—likely a fresh graduate from seminary—will find himself thrust into an impossible situation. Lacking your many talents and incapable of comprehending the genius of your carefully crafted liturgy, he will find himself set up for failure from his first day in office. Meanwhile, as you enjoy your golden years of retirement, you will content yourself in knowing that you have set the bar so high for your former parish that no one will ever adequately fill your shoes. Or, instead of this, you could use the hymnal.
On another day I would be happy to argue for the superiority of the Common Service (TLH p. 5 and LSB Setting 3) over the other settings in our hymnals. For example, on another day I might say that the Starke Mass (LSB Setting 4) with its campy tunes and limerick-adjacent renderings of sacred Scripture is a terrible setting that no one should use. On another day I might even add that its limp-wristed confession attracts other poor practices in the same way that spoiled fruit attracts flies. But I will say none of those things today. Instead, it will suffice for today if we could all agree to use the hymnal.
To be in synod means that we walk together. This necessarily means that some of us must slow our pace for the others. It also means that we must all set aside our own ideas about how to perfect the liturgy and be content with the inheritance we have received from our orthodox fathers. Do I have my own ideas, for example, about better Gospel texts for the Sundays after Easter? Sure, I do. But rather than play out the book of Judges once again among the people of God, I set my ideas aside (amazing as they may be) and submit myself to those things we have together received and agreed to use: namely the liturgy, the lectionary, and the hymnal.
Long after you and I are gone, these time-tested treasures of the church will endure. Are they perfect? Probably not. Could you or I come up with something better? My ego might think so. Perhaps yours as well. But it’s unlikely that any of us are wiser, closer to God, or better students of the Holy Scriptures than the saints who have come before us. Therefore, I entreat you, brothers, for the sake of unity, for the sake of your congregation, and for the sake of the man who will inevitably succeed you, set aside your brilliance and use the hymnal.