The Rhetoric of Fear
The normalization of homosexuality in the west was a long-term campaign to shift the paradigm. Its advocates had to remove the stigma that it was sinful (according to Christianity) and abnormal (according to mental health professional standards).
A rhetorical tactic by a psychologist named George Weinberg proved successful. He coined the term “homophobia” in 1965. It took a while for the term to gain traction. In 1969 it appeared in print in a pornographic magazine. And a few months later, it appeared in the more mainstream Time Magazine. In 1972, Weinberg used the term in his book Society and the Healthy Homosexual.
Weinberg’s reframing was successful, as the term redefined those who held that homosexuality was abnormal or sinful as the pathological ones, while the homosexuals were normalized. The use of not just “fear,” but “phobia,” implied mental illness on the part of Christians and social conservatives. The very next year, 1973, homosexuality was removed from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) as a mental health disorder.
So if you simply agree with Scripture that homosexuality is sinful, or if you agree with what was the standard view of mental health professionals prior to 1973 that it is a mental disorder - you are seen as being motivated by “fear” - and pathologically so. The “phobia” rhetoric was also applied to so-called transgenderism in 1993, and by 2013, the term “transphobia” was added to the Oxford Dictionary.
Rhetorically, it is brilliant. For it frames Christians and social conservatives as being motivated by “fear.” This implies that their beliefs in what Scripture and natural law teach are cowardly, whereas homosexuals, their advocates, and those who favor abolition of the Christian and natural law approach to be “stunning and brave” as the trope goes - which was incidentally coined by a satirical South Park episode concerning Bruce/Kaitlyn Jenner.
Those in the LCMS who want to shift the paradigm regarding pastoral formation are taking a similar tack in ascribing the motives of those who disagree with them as “fear.” If you listen to just about any podcast by those who advocate change to the status quo in the LCMS in which pastors are mainly forged by residential seminary education and formation, you will hear the same reframing tactic used by Weinberg.
Here is an example (27:18):
I don't share the same fear. Why? Because the Holy Spirit is in charge of the church. The Holy Spirit has led us up to this point. And the Holy Spirit has raised up a lot of really, really excellent lay men and women in our congregations that understand the times and would not allow such a move to occur if there were more adaptive models for raising up leaders, pastors, etc. in the LCMS. I do not believe it's a valid fear, but I understand I understand historically the fear.
The overwhelming vote at convention was to bolster our residential program, to disallow formation in online or non-LCMS seminaries, and to judiciously limit the use of the SMP program. There is simply a range of opinions on this matter. But to hear those who want an expanded SMP program (if not a full-blown non-residential option) frame the issue, what is motivating this majority view is “fear.”
And, of course, “perfect love cast out fear.” So, as those who want to shift the paradigm frame the issue, they are the “stunning and brave” ones, the people of perfect love, who trust the Holy Spirit. You can find that very thing said on popular podcasts. People like me who disagree with them are apparently just scaredy-cats who don’t trust the Holy Spirit. There is also an implication that we are “technophobes.”
It’s clever! The forces of change are typically more adroit in their use of rhetoric than conservatives are. We should commend them for their shrewdness.
But I don’t buy the premise. Just speaking for myself, I’m no technophobe. My first career was in IT. My initial foray into technology was FORTRAN and punch cards. I left my state university to pursue a computer programming certificate from a technology school back in the 1980s. I subsequently had a great career. I left my IT life to go to seminary as a married second-career student. I completed my undergraduate degree (required for admission to seminary) from a university that was a pioneer in online education - in 2000.
I have three degrees, and two of them were awarded by non-residential universities. I’m in my fifteenth year teaching high school classes online. I’m not a technophobe, and there are many places where online education is a great boon. But it is simply my opinion that online education cannot do it all. There are some forms of formation that have to be done in person, things like the emergency services, aviation, military, and the practice of law and medicine, and the pastoral office. Again, this is my opinion. It isn’t some kind of irrational fear.
I have an M.A. in Law from one of the top 100 law schools in the country. The M.A. program is for things like doing legal research, writing, and paralegal work. It is not a J.D. - which is required to become an attorney. There are online J.D. programs, but my alma mater does not offer a non-residential J.D. For being a paralegal or legal researcher is different than being a lawyer. To be a lawyer requires not only education and training, but formation. The same is true for medical school. Nobody would want to go to a brain surgeon who just got an online M.D. Nor can military personnel be trained online. Can you imagine the U.S. Marine Corps offering basic training via Zoom? Pilots also do ground school and train on simulators. But they are also required to actually fly airplanes, to be in the cockpit with a flight instructor - in both training and testing. Online education has its limits. And to recognize that is not a phobia.
Now, I’m not opposed to online theological study for clergy and laity alike. Technology is a great gift in that endeavor. But I don’t believe it to be up to the task of pastoral formation.
I’m against changing our pastoral formation paradigm not because I’m afraid of something. I just believe that pastoral formation is important, and like training lawyers, soldiers, doctors, and pilots, is not only about the acquisition of information, but of being formed into a way of life itself. And this is partly due to our Lutheran understanding of the pastoral office. While non-denominational Christians often use the verb “pastoring,” we Lutherans typically use the noun form: we serve as pastors - because we are pastors. It grows out of who were are, how we have been formed. It’s not a job with a checklist of skills. It is a holy office that is, per our confessions, not an option. It is a divine call.
Of course, no system is perfect. But it is far more difficult for someone unfit for ministry to get through a program with a lot of eyes on him: fellow students, professors, seminary staff, etc. I’m not fearful or phobic. Nor do I lack trust in the Holy Spirit. This is a false accusation. I simply think that we should continue with the paradigm that we have developed - knowing how crucial it was to my own formation and that of my brothers. And as I have said before, formation is incarnational. It happens in chapel: praying, singing, and receiving the Holy Sacrament together. It happens in the physical classroom - eyeball to eyeball with brother students and father professors. It happens working in the co-ops, in field work, in the dining hall, in the dorms, in the student commons, on the running track, in the gym, at the ice cream socials and at Gemütlichkeits. It happens in the Chapel Choir and on tour with the Kantorei. It happens while serving on student government and volunteering for various in-person projects. It happens during your professors’ office hours and at coffee after chapel. It happens being with your brothers from around the country and around the world.
There are simply formative elements that cannot be replicated by an electronic simulacra on a screen. As the legendary computer scientist Jon Paris told a group of us consultants at IBM in Rochester, Minnesota back in the Eighties: “Emulation is… never as satisfying as the real thing.” Well, that is a cleaned up version of the aphorism.
And yes, residential seminary it is more costly in terms of time and resources for the church, and it is more of a sacrifice to a seminarian and his family. It is my opinion that it is worth it. My opinion is not forged in fear. Seminary was not easy, but I would not trade a moment of it for something quicker, cheaper, and easier. If my motivation were fear, I would have been too afraid to leave my old job and old life behind to take a leap into the unknown.
So I think we can dispense with the false fear narrative.
So when you hear the faux fear accusation pop up like the proverbial Whac-a-Mole at a carnival, feel free to swat it down. Think about “homophobia” - because it really is nothing more than a rhetorical trick to affect a paradigm shift. Advocating for our residential seminary programs doesn’t make you afraid or pathological. You don’t have to accept that framing. I sure don’t.