Worship Dancewear

I got a new catalog at the church office last week.

Here is the online version. Yes, this is a line of "dancewear" for "worship." The catalog is very colorful and filled with smiling dancing girls - some in front of stained glass windows. Some of them have colorful streamers, some are wearing leotards and tights (one of them is even fleshtone, perhaps giving a Bourbon Street look to liturgical dance), while others look more like Jerry Seinfeld in the "puffy shirt."

Interestingly, the most common colors are white (like the alb) in combination with purple (the traditional color of a bishop's cassock), scarlet (the traditional color of a cardinal's cassock) and black (the traditional color of a priest's cassock). I don't know if that's coincidental or not - but I doubt it. If the devil is as clever as C.S. Lewis's Screwtape character, it's probably not by chance. And somehow I think Satan is even more cunning than Dr. Lewis.

Once you click into the page to "begin shopping," you can find all sorts of interesting vestments for worship.

Under the "worship" tab, you can find an outfit that looks like a Kung Fu or Tai Chi uniform - complete with a sash around the waist. One gal is even delivering a high martial arts style kick - perhaps as a way to interpret battles with the Philistines and other Old Testament military campaigns. There is also the one that looks like a rendition of an alb and chasuble (which, I suppose, would work for the priestess at the altar who wants to "get her boogie on" while desecrating the elements). All that's missing is the Asherah pole.

But it gets even better.

Click on the "performance" tab, and you get to the real point behind having dancing girls in "church..."


These vestments are known as "booty shorts." If you click here you can see some of the other items: the "leather look shorts", the "short camisole dress", and the "slinky top" (and I don't think it's a spring that walks down stairs).

The point of having dancing girls at a "worship event" has nothing to do with our Blessed Lord, the forgiveness of sins, eternal life, the restoration of fallen Paradise, the proclamation of the Word of God, prayer, praise, thanksgiving, the reception of the Holy Sacraments, or submission to the Creator - rather it's all about "performance" - calling attention to the girls and their wriggling bodies.

The devil is indeed clever - what a better way to mock the incarnation than to abuse the sacredness of the human body during a parody of Christian worship?

This one is especially illustrative - hands folded in prayer. Very spiritual, indeed. Doesn't she look pious?


As silly and ridiculous as this stuff is, keep in mind that at the last few official LCMS Youth Gatherings, the Divine Services have included "liturgical dance." All the while, synod and district bureaucrats express dismay, alarm, and shock that so many congregations no longer participate in them, opting instead for the Higher Things youth gatherings (where you won't find dancing girls and rock music at the Divine Service).

Of course, being a conservative and biblical church body, I would imagine that Missouri Synod booty shorts would have "John 3:16" clearly visible on the buttocks. Moreover, those who don't approve of dancing girls at the Divine Service must be "stodgy conservatives" who are not "missional" in reaching out to the youth.

Dancing girls - coming to an LCMS church near you!

The world has gone mad (or just sad?)

Now this may be the single most pathetic thing I've ever read - further evidence that the culture is in a severely downward spiral. What amazes me most are the sheer numbers of people who are taking part in that which is so obviously unfulfilling, gloomy, hollow, and desperate.

"Our hearts are restless until they rest in you, Lord."
-- St. Augustine

Why?

We live in tumultuous times in The Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod. There are certainly benefits to belonging to the synod - such as access to our universities and seminaries to secure teachers and pastors, the various benefits packages for church workers, the idea of being in a fellowship (rather than being an independent little raft adrift in the ocean), and the venerable witness and historical precedent of those who came before us in affiliating with the LCMS - especially in its finest hours of preserving the Lutheran confessional witness in the face of 19th century unionism and the integrity of the Holy Scriptures in the face of 20th century liberalism.

Leaving the synod ought not be a decision to take lightly.

However, if a pastor and/or a congregation leave the synod, it would seem that one of the advantages is no longer having to deal with the headaches that synodical membership brings. For example, the LCMS worship wars, the political strife, the "anything goes" approach to certain matters in our synod (which are doctrinal and/or practical according to whom you ask) - such as the role of women, closed communion, and the nature of the office of the ministry. Leaving synod would mean no more fuss about whether to support Ablaze!(tm) or not, worrying about either supporting President Kieschnick or finding a candidate to run against him, having to take sides regarding the Board of Directors or the lawsuit against Kieschnick, the rancorous discussions within the CTCR and the CCM, etc.

In some ways, walking away from the synod would be liberating.

What I don't understand is why so many pastors leave our synod, and then spend the rest of their valuable days in the service of the Lord continuing to fight battles that no longer concern them? Christian News, for example, is filled with rants by former LCMS pastors that deal again and again with internal LCMS matters. Why do these guys even care any more? Shouldn't leaving have freed up their time to deal with more substantive matters? Heck, even more recreational time with the family would be an improvement.

Another example: I get e-mails from a former LCMS pastor whose church left the synod (with him leaving as well). Often, the e-mails have helpful announcements and such, but sometimes they are the pastor's personal editorials on internal Missouri Synod affairs - which no longer concern him. Why? I mean, why go to the trouble to leave and then continue working on your Missouri ulcer? For what?

Then there are former pastors who have left Lutheranism all together. One of them is a good friend of mine, a seminary classmate, and a man of integrity who could no longer serve as an LCMS pastor and joined the Orthodox Church as a layman (after having been compelled to violate his conscience on vicarage and having a very difficult first call in the LCMS ministry). Once he left, his former grumpy constitution went away. Even his voice changed. His constant stresses were no more. He told me he was so much more at peace, and never worries about who gets elected to synodical offices or what resolution gets passed. He spends his time trying to be a faithful lay Christian and family man. That seems like the right way to leave the synod.

Mind you, I wish he would have stayed in the ministry (he was a top-notch theologian and pastor) and in our fellowship. It grieves me that we are no longer in fellowship, but his conscience didn't permit him to remain a member of synod nor a Lutheran layman. He cut the apron strings, and never tries to tell us how to run our synod.

But there are other men who have left Missouri and are now either Orthodox laymen or priests. Many (not all, by any means) continue to argue, debate, write, react, and post to blogs about internal Lutheran and LCMS matters. They spend hours involved in LCMS squabbles. What's the point?

If my congregation ever decides to leave the LCMS (and I'm by no means saying this is even on the back burner), I certainly would not be reading CTCR decisions and spending hours writing retorts to synodical resolutions and decrees of the LCMS president. I would be lying if I were to say that no longer even reading such things wouldn't be a great benefit to changing affiliations.

There seems to be something terribly unhealthy about obsessing over an organization that you have left, and trying to impose your will upon it from the outside. If one's emotions and sentiments are that strongly attached, why leave? And if not, why the hand-wringing? Why not get on with one's life and vocation post-Missouri? Isn't there enough to keep an Orthodox priest or an independent Lutheran pastor busy?

Maybe someone can explain it to me.

This Is Gretna!

[Note: These great pictures were taken and uploaded by Mike Sax and reproduced here in accordance with his licensing requirements. +HW]

Father Hollywood's two year-old son LionBoy (whose real name is Leonidas) and his daddy have a little game we play with one another. I recite the line from the movie 300 in which King Leonidas cries out: "This is Sparta!" Leo retorts: "No, Gretna!" I counter with: "This is Gretna!" after which, he corrects me again with a mischievous grin: "No, Sparta!"

Well, this is indeed Gretna - and I love my home town.

Tonight, the Gretna Heritage Festival winds down. Since this is our first year living in Gretna, the Hollywoods didn't realize what a big deal the Gretna Fest is, or just how close we are to the action!

Some 100,000 people were expected to come to our city for this weekend event. Our house is less than a half block from the barricades to enter the festival. People are hustling and bustling by our front porch. Cars are parked on the city streets as far as the eye can see and even farther (the city has shuttles bringing attendees to the entrance from various locations around the area).

There are several stages set up for musical acts along the levee. Bands such as Starship, the Temptations, the Beach Boys, Dickie Betts, and Travis Tritt performed (along with many other lesser known performers). A large area has been converted into a carnival midway, with the usual games and rides. Food is in abundance, including the usual funnel cakes and chicken on a stick, but also featuring boiled crab, shrimp, and gumbo.

We attended the Fest on Friday afternoon/evening. We could not believe how the usually sleepy City of Gretna had become the party epicenter of the New Orleans area. After walking the 30 seconds to get in, we turned up Huey P. Long and strutted behind a brass band toward the levee. Wow! People of all ages were happily eating, dancing, partying, and drinking (New Orleans Original Daiquiris obviously had a booth, as evidenced by the jumbo-sized "mugs" (read: mini kegs) people were walking around with.

We wandered over to the levee to see two huge stages set up - complete with the large screens for better viewing of the performers. We strolled along the levee and found us a good sittin'-place. Leo was restless, choosing to climb up and down the levee wall spinning webs like Spiderman and tossing pebbles over the side.

Finally, Starship (formerly Jefferson Starship, formerly Jefferson Airplane) took the stage, and LionBoy's demeanor changed. He took a seat next to Father Hollywood and glued his eyes to the flashing stage lights. He watched in awe as singer Mickey Thomas belted out classic pop and rock numbers from the 1980s. The band held Leo's attention for a good half hour, as he snuggled in next to dad, tapped his foot and bobbed his head to the beat. It was a great show.

After Leo had his fill of the concert, we wandered around. There were plenty of rides and games. We discovered that our little boy is pretty much fearless when it comes to the rides. I rode with him on a roller coaster with a dragon's head. We rode a spinny ride of bees that go up and down. We rode together on a little train. But Leo also rode solo on the caterpillar and the octopus rides - and had a blast. He also went "fishing" and caught two "sharks" - earning a prize of a stuffed clown fish ("Nemo," of course).

By the time we headed back to the levee, Starship had finished. That's okay, though. I enjoyed the trip down memory lane that we did get to see. Mickey Thomas still has the "pipes" and can hit the high notes with ease. (When I sang for the Fort Wayne Kantorei, I often sang in falsetto as a Tenor - so I can appreciate the energy required to sing high and with power).

Thomas, who hails from San Francisco, made a comment as the sun was getting ready to set. He scoped out the view - the Mississippi River with all sorts of boats of every type, size, and color cruising by, the palm trees, the pedestrian-friendly levee, the glorious New Orleans skyline, and the brightly-lit Crescent City Connection bridge that connects Gretna and the West Bank with the Crescent City's East Bank (to Uptown and the French Quarter). He said something to the effect of: "Look at that view! The people of Gretna get to see that every day!" And he's absolutely right.

The Hollywoods are frequent visitors to the levee. We live three blocks away. We usually walk, but sometimes ride bikes. We even go out at night. Gretna is the safest city in Jefferson Parish. While in parts of New Orleans folks pretty much have to barricade themselves in at night, this is not true in Gretna - at least not in Old Gretna where we live. You will routinely see families with children strolling around at dusk or even at night. The City of New Orleans glows across the rolling river. Boats light up the waterway as walkers and and cyclists wave and smile to everybody else on the levee. It really is cool. This is a great place to live.

"This is Gretna!"

[Note: I will be uploading some pictures of my own of the Gretna Fest to my Flickr site - but they are nowhere near as nice as those taken and posted by Mike Sax above! +HW]

Sermon: Trinity 18

7 October 2007 at Salem Lutheran Church, Gretna, LA
Text: Matt 22:34-46

In the name of + Jesus. Amen.

People stop asking questions for two reasons – either their question has been answered and they now understand, or they don’t understand but are afraid of the direction the answer is going.

The Sadducees and Pharisees didn’t like Jesus’s answers. In fact, their questions were almost always just attempts to trap Him. The traps always backfired, and the opponents of Jesus were the ones who were trapped by their own questions.

Rather than ask more questions in an attempt to really get to the truth, nearly everyone from these groups stopped asking questions and started plotting to assassinate Him.

The opponents of Jesus were great scholars of Scripture. They knew the law inside and out, had committed much of the Old Testament to memory, and could make clever arguments to bolster their particular spin on God’s Word. However, their witty ability to read and interpret amounted to nothing in the presence of the Author.

As not only the Author of the Word of God, but as the living Word of God incarnate, Jesus gives them indisputable proof that the Messiah would not only be David’s male descendant, but also David’s Lord and God in the flesh: “How then does David in the Spirit call Him ‘Lord,’ saying: ‘The LORD said to my Lord, “Sit at My right hand, Till I make Your enemies Your footstool”’? If David then calls Him 'Lord,' how is He his Son?” And notice how the enemies of Jesus respond: “And no one was able to answer Him a word, nor from that day on did anyone dare question Him anymore.”

Not only has Jesus cited Scripture to prove that the Messiah was to be God in the flesh, but He also cited Scripture that God would make the enemies of the Christ His footstool. Jesus is warning His enemies that they had better repent, acknowledge Him as not only Messiah but as God Himself, or they would end up under the feet of the very divine Master that they deny.

Thus that line of questioning came to an end. They did not like where this was leading. Instead of saying “Tell us more, Rabbi,” they chose to become silent.

They had just questioned Jesus about the law. For the Pharisees were always concerned about the law. They loved the law, not because it exposes our sins, calls us to repent, and leads us to the Christ for forgiveness, but rather because the Law was their pet. They carried it about in little boxes on their heads. They made a public spectacle over their ability to keep it whole and undefiled (of course, they had to butcher and mangle it beyond recognition just to give themselves the appearance of keeping it).

Jesus disarms their trap the way He disarmed the trap of Satan – by citing Scripture. When the Pharisees seek a discussion about the Law (no doubt so they could show off their wit and wisdom, their cleverness and their pious religion), Jesus quotes the Word of God and exposes their abuse of the Law. The Law isn’t there to be interpreted and re-interpreted to make you feel good about keeping it. It’s not there to give us a way of showing off. Rather, it is rooted in love. And love isn’t about boasting.

If you really want to keep the Law, you don’t need elaborate ceremonies and obscure regulations. You don’t have to follow rules about diet and codes of dress. If you really want to keep the Law, you simply have to love. “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind…. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

The Law isn’t about self-aggrandizement, and in fact is the exact opposite. The Law isn’t about making oneself righteous, but rather in selflessly serving others. The Law is not about what we can do for ourselves, but rather what God expects us to do for others. The focus of the law is not our scorecard of good works, but rather the list of needs of our brothers and sisters. The Law is not about calling attention to what we have done, but rather in calling attention to what needs done. And if it needs done, that means we have not done it.

Does this sound familiar: “We have not loved You with our whole heart. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.”?

That’s the Law, dear brothers and sisters. God demands that we fear, love, and trust in Him alone – and we don’t do it. The Law demands that we withhold nothing from God: not our time, money, possessions, even our very lives. We are not to grumble or complain, but rather to seek Him and serve Him alone. The Pharisees and the Sadducees didn’t do this, and neither do we.

The same Law commands that we serve our neighbor – spiritually and materially, asking nothing in return, feeding him if he is hungry, clothing him if he is naked, giving him water if he thirsts, even turning the other cheek if he strikes us. We are to pray for him if he persecutes us. We are to walk with him an extra mile if he takes advantage of us. Even if he is a stranger, we are to bind up his wounds and pay for his lodging. We are to seek him out if he is lost, and we are to bless him if he curses us.

Of course, the Pharisees did none of these things (and neither do we). The Pharisees followed a law of their own imagination, one that fretted over rules of fasting, regulations about clothing, rituals of hand-washing, hundreds of laws that are found nowhere in Scripture. They became a club of People Who Follow the Rules – whether or not the rules were in accordance with Scripture, whether or not the letter of the Law conflicted with the Spirit of the Law. Love had nothing to do with their law.

Jesus exposed their misuse of the Law, their hypocrisy, and their lovelessness and sinfulness. Their tricks fell back on themselves, their traps caught them by their own necks, and the law they used as a means to declare themselves better than the average person became the judge and executioner that declared them guilty and deserving of death.

It’s easy to see why they didn’t like Jesus, and why they decided to stop questioning Him.

What the Pharisees and the Sadducees failed to realize is that the Law which takes our self-esteem away and makes us look bad is doing its job. They also failed to see that Jesus had come to fulfill the Law for all of us who are bound to Him by grace through faith, and connected to His sacrificial death and resurrection by Baptism.

Jesus is the One who loves. He truly loves God, loves His neighbor, and loves Himself perfectly. He demonstrates this selfless, law-fulfilling love, withholding nothing from His Father. Not His time, money, possessions, even His very life. Not once does He grumble or complain, but rather seeks and serves His Father alone. He likewise serves His neighbor – spiritually and materially – seeking no reward for Himself. He feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, gives water to him who thirsts, and turns the other cheek as He continues to be struck by the world. He prays for those who persecute Him. It is He who goes the extra mile and binds the wounds of the stranger, providing him lodging. It is Jesus who seeks out the lost, and blesses those who curse Him.

The Pharisees did not like the Law as Jesus proclaimed it, and they liked Jesus even less. They were people lacking in love for God and for neighbor – and ultimately, they did not love themselves. For they chose a path of self-destruction in the name of self-improvement. They chose to keep a counterfeit law and reject the real Christ. By their hypocrisy and fraud, they missed the very grace of God that Jesus offered them with outstretched, cruciform arms. They chose a perversion of self-love over the real divine love that is not self-seeking, but rather seeks to serve others.

Our Lord is warning us today, dear brothers and sisters. If you are falling for the diabolical lie that Christianity is about following rules, obeying laws, and feeling good about yourself for doing it (while, of course, getting annoyed that other people aren’t noticing you or complimenting you for your work), you need to repent of this.

We can love God and our neighbor – if only imperfectly – because He has loved us first. God is love. Jesus is love incarnate. No greater love has anyone than that He would lay down His life for His friends. And in the case of our Lord, he lays down His life for the life of the world.

We love God when we confess Christ. We love our neighbor when Christ works through us for the benefit of others. And we truly love ourselves by serving God and our neighbor selflessly in recognition of the love shown to us by Him who loved us and gave Himself for us. Thus we can thank God always with St. Paul: “for the grace of God which was given to you by Christ Jesus, that you were enriched in everything by Him in all utterance and all knowledge, even as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you, so that you come short in no gift, eagerly waiting for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will also confirm you to the end, that you may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Amen.

In the name of the father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

A sad day...

...for Jefferson Parish and the New Orleans area.

Our beloved Sheriff Harry Lee died today at the age of 75 after a bout with leukemia.

An overweight no-nonsense conservative law-and-order Democrat country-music-listening hunting-enthusiast deep-South sheriff named "Lee" who wore cowboy boots and a white Stetson hat may seem like just another colorful stereotype - until you realize that our Sheriff Lee was not related to the Lees of Old Virginia, but rather was the son of Chinese immigrants.

That's South Louisiana for you.

Lee grew up in New Orleans working in his parents' laundry. He was voted "most likely to succeed" in high school and went on to earn a degree from LSU. He later opened a restaurant with his family, and was elected as a federal magistrate. In 1979, while serving in that capacity, he decided to run for parish sheriff. He would faithfully serve in that office until the day he died, having been elected to seven consecutive terms. Ever the fighter, he was looking forward to his eighth term in office and ready to take on any comers (just a few days ago he called it "political suicide" for anyone to run against him).

Sheriff Lee was an institution in the New Orleans area. He was relentless in his battle against crime. He was beloved by people of Jefferson Parish and the entire region largely because he was so plain-spoken, open, and without the usual political "polish." He never cowered to political correctness, and even his opponents and critics to a man spoke of him as a gentleman of integrity and honor. What you saw was definitely what you got.

People simply felt safer knowing Sheriff Lee was on the job.

During Mardi Gras parades, the sheriff would throw caricatures of himself to adoring crowds. Grace and I have one that he personally tossed to us from his float - a refrigerator magnet bearing his likeness and wearing old-fashioned sheriff's garb. If you can imagine an Asian version of Colonel Sanders, that would be about it. Another "throw" that many a New Orleanian has on their fridges would be deemed shockingly "racist" in other areas of the country: a round yellow happy-face with cartoonishly slanted eyes and a big white cowboy hat. Sheriff Lee was not one to take himself too seriously. He counted it a great honor on one occasion to take the stage and sing with Willie Nelson.

From the following articles (here and here) one would get the impression that Sheriff Lee was hated by the black community. Just the opposite is true. He had his share of disagreements with people over the years, but somehow, they did not become personal feuds. Local television is running tributes to the sheriff from people in the region of every race and ethnicity. It's rare that someone in public office is so universally revered. In the final analysis, Harry Lee protected all of our parish's people from the thugs and cowards who prey upon the weakest in society. He did it with plain-spoken integrity, common sense, gusto, and honor.

They just don't make them like that anymore. Requiescat in pace.

Just wondering...

if the Speaker of the House would have been so
flippant and dismissive were it Islam, Judaism, or Buddhism that were subjected to such mockery.

I agree with her that the usual hateful diabolical attacks on Jesus and the Church by simpletons and sexual deviants of this sort cannot harm Christ and His Church (Matt 16:18). However, I wouldn't be so sure that she, as a Christian, is equally unscathed. Refusing to even speak a word of rebuke is not much of a Christian witness - especially when one has something to gain by one's silence: political peace with deviant anti-Christian voters (see Matt 10:32-34).

Will Archbishop Niederauer be condemning this attack on the holy faith? Will he be excommunicating Mrs. Pelosi for her ambivalence and cowardly tolerance of attacks on Jesus and the apostles by her political constituents?

Is anybody in the Roman hierarchy even listening?

Sermon: Trinity 17

30 Sept 2007 at Salem Lutheran Church, Gretna, LA
Text: Luke 14:1-11

In the name of + Jesus. Amen.

We have lived in the sinful world for so long that we have convinced ourselves that right is left, up is down, and darkness is light.

We are so utterly deluded that we actually think we have even one thing to brag about. If we have a skill or talent, we expect to be fawned over and paid handsomely. If we have good looks, we expect heads to turn and people to defer to us in all that we do. If we have money, people had better kowtow to our every wish. If we hold a position of power, people had better give us due respect.

The reality is this: we are all poor miserable sinners who are so feeble and helpless, we need God to take extraordinary measures to save us from the consequences of our own monumental failure. We are fools, liars, thieves, know-it-alls, bullies, and arrogant blow-hards who need to be taken down a peg – which is why our Lord gives us this lesson.

He encounters a man suffering with dropsy – which is known today as edema. It is a swelling, a puffing up of part of the body in such a way that not only that part, but the entire body is put at risk. Jesus is about to heal this man on the Sabbath – knowing full well that His puffed-up arrogant opponents, the Pharisees, would be offended.

Of course, the Pharisees see themselves as greater than this quirky preacher who is gobbling up all the attention from the poor people (who, in the eyes of the Pharisees, ought to be too busy flattering the Pharisees to notice Him).

Just before performing the miracle, Jesus prods them to answer His question about sin and the Kingdom of God. He wants them to surrender, to tell Jesus that they obviously have a messed up understanding about God’s Kingdom. In other words, our blessed Lord is looking for repentance. But that would mean eating crow and admitting failure. And so, they remain silent – even though they know what is about to happen.

Our Lord heals the man puffed-up by dropsy. He is almost taunting the self-righteous but confused Pharisees to charge Him with breaking God’s law. Jesus points out their hypocrisy in being willing to rescue a farm animal on the Sabbath, while condemning Jesus for healing a person. Again, the Pharisees remain silent. They still will not admit to being wrong.

In their stubbornness, they will not yield the point. They have no good answer, so they just stew. They will certainly not admit they were wrong. They will certainly not ask Jesus to teach them and forgive them for their errors. They are the classic example of the celebrity who tries to get special treatment by saying: “Don’t you know who I am?” Of course, the problem isn’t that Jesus doesn’t know them (He certainly knows them very well). Rather, the problem is that they don’t know who Jesus is – even with the evidence staring them in the face again and again.

And so they remain silent. Once more, our Lord reaches out to them, this time using a parable. This little story isn’t even about the Sabbath. For the Pharisees suffer a greater sin than false doctrine regarding the third commandment. The problem is far worse. They actually have a false god that is leading them to hell unless they repent. This is a first commandment issue, and their false god is themselves.

Their pride is a very serious sin, for it is one that stands in the way of repentance and healing.

Like the man with dropsy, the Pharisees are puffed up – not with bodily fluids but with boastful folly. They are arrogant, prideful, thinking themselves better than everyone around them – which translates to better seats at the social events.

Jesus tells of people who assume they are due a high degree of honor, and claim the best accommodations – that is, until a person who outranks them shows up and orders them to move to the cheap seats – which would be a terrible social embarrassment.

Such an embarrassment could be completely avoided by picking a humble seat, and then when you are asked to move, it will be a show of honor rather than of humiliation.

Jesus tells them the moral: “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

This, dear brothers and sisters, is how the Kingdom of God works. It is so different than our prideful secular world that values hubris and encourages arrogance. God’s Kingdom looks at things as they truly are: we don’t deserve honor. We don’t deserve glory. Rather, we have earned nothing but wrath and punishment, death and hell. It is painful, but it is the truth.

We strive to honor the Sabbath day and keep it holy by being honest with ourselves, with our neighbors, and with God by beginning our worship by invoking our baptism in the name of the Triune God and then by confessing how much we don’t deserve to have received that gift of baptism. Rather than claim a nice seat for ourselves, we speak harsh words concerning ourselves to all who are listening: “I am sinful and unclean. I have sinned against God in thought, word, and deed. I deserve temporal and eternal punishment.”

There is no stubborn silence here, no haughty gaze at Jesus, no folded arms and contemptuous sneering. There is no plea that we truly keep the Sabbath in spirit and in truth, that God owes us gifts because we have earned them, or that Jesus is the one who has it all wrong. No indeed, we seat ourselves in the cheap seats and tell everyone we deserve it.

This is not false humility – for we know it’s true – every word of it. We are indeed “poor miserable sinners” and cannot save ourselves. We’re not heroes, we are villains. We’re not successful, we are failures. We’re not here to get a medal placed over our heads, but rather deserve to have a rope tied around our necks.

We come to the Lord’s banquet on our knees, in the position of slaves and servants, in the posture of humiliation and submission.

And what does our Lord do? He comes to us at the banquet and He says: “Friend, go up higher.” Our blessed Lord Himself exalts us – not because we deserve it, but rather because he has earned it on our behalf. In acknowledging our wretchedness, we become recipients of His grace.

He lifts our downtrodden countenance, bids us to rise from our knees, and to depart in peace.

This is the Great Reversal of God’s Kingdom. He who knew no sin became sin for us. He who is King of Kings and Lord of Lords became the Criminal of Criminals. He is the One who, in fact, humbles Himself, and who is exalted by the Father. In His humiliation, we are exalted, beckoned to “go up higher,” to be glorified with the glory that He freely shares with us.

“For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

I knew this day would come...

I guess I have crossed the threshold to middle age. How do I know? I was making a shut-in call today at a nursing home, and blaring out of the sound system was a big-hair-and-spandex 1980s rock and roll classic (yes, boys and girls, the 80s are now included under the rubric "Classic Rock"). It was an MTV-friendly tune by Bon Jovi (Livin' on a Prayer).

I knew the day would come when rock and roll would be played at the nursing home, but I really thought it would start with Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly, or perhaps even the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, or Pink Floyd. I would not even have been so surprised at Rush or Aerosmith breaking the nursing home barrier. But I sure didn't expect the domino to fall on a sappy Bon Jovi song.

Well, it least it wasn't Winger. What would future generations think of us?

Latin Quote of the Day (again, props to Weedon)

Degeneration of the Culture

"Praestabat castas humilis fortuna Latinas quondam, nec vitiis contingi parva sinebant tecta labor somnique breves et vellere Tusco vexatae duraeque manus ac proximus urbi Hannibal et stantes Collina turre mariti. nunc patimur longae pacis mala: saevior armis luxuria incubuit victumque ulciscitur orbem."

-- Decimus Iunius Iuvenalis (60-127 AD), Saturae VI, 287

"Humble circumstances formerly kept the Latin women chaste; they were spared contact with vice because their houses were small, they worked hard, slept little, and their hands were roughed and calloused from working Tuscan wool, because Hannibal was just outside the gates and their men were on duty at the Collina tower. Now we are suffering the evils of a long peace: more destructive than war, luxury has come to stay with us and we are punished for our conquest of the world."

-- Juvenal, Satires VI, 287

Old American Quote of the Day (with a nod to Fr. Weedon)

Democracy is a Bad Idea

"Hence it is that such democracies have ever been spectacles of turbulence and contention; have ever been found incompatible with personal security or the rights of property; and have in general been as short in their lives as they have been violent in their deaths. Theoretic politicians, who have patronized this species of government, have erroneously supposed that by reducing mankind to a perfect equality in their political rights, they would, at the same time, be perfectly equalized and assimilated in their possessions, their opinions, and their passions. A republic, by which I mean a government in which the scheme of representation takes place, opens a different prospect, and promises the cure for which we are seeking."

-- James Madison, "Father of the Constitution", Federalist 10

'Tis the season of the politicians spending millions of dollars to roll around in the mud and insult our intelligence. Listen carefully how the candidates for Federal office speak about what sort of government we have. How many of them have a clue that democracy is a bad thing - at least according to the Founders? With few exceptions (perhaps as few as one), our candidates from both parties have bought in to the idea that a democratic empire based on universal suffrage and direct taxation is what America is all about.

As our republican Roman forbears might have said - at least under their breaths: "Renovemus rempublicam!"

Every fourth year is a long year - and I'm not talking about leap year either!

A Georgia Volunteer

Just today, I ran across Dixie Broadcasting - which you can listen to online here. It's a mix of old-time bluegrass, real country crooning, and music that is unabashedly Southern.

While listening today, I heard a haunting melody that I have not heard for a long time. It was recorded back in the 1990s by some friends of mine from South Georgia who called themselves The Rebellaires. This particular song, "A Georgia Volunteer" was a musical setting of the poem of the same name written in the 1860s by a poet named Mary Ashley Townsend.

Interestingly, Mrs. Townsend was born in New York state, moved to New Orleans while a teenager, and had her own newspaper column by the age of 18. She came to be quite a beloved and honored writer in the Crescent City. Her biography is compelling, but her poetry is even more interesting: powerful, lush, and filled with vivid imagery.

Here is Mrs. Townsend's melancholic poem that honors the common soldier while not sugar-coating the consequences of war:


A GEORGIA VOLUNTEER by Mary Ashley Townsend (1832-1901)

Far up the lonely mountain-side
My wandering footsteps led;
The moss lay thick beneath my feet,
The pine sighed overhead.
The trace of a dismantled fort
Lay in the forest nave,
And in the shadow near my path
I saw a soldier's grave.

The bramble wrestled with the weed
Upon the lowly mound;--
The simple head-board, rudely writ,
Had rotted to the ground;
I raised it with a reverent hand,
From dust its words to clear,
But time had blotted all but these--
"A Georgia Volunteer!"

I saw the toad and scaly snake
From tangled covert start,
And hide themselves among the weeds
Above the dead man's heart;
But undisturbed, in sleep profound,
Unheeding, there he lay;
His coffin but the mountain soil,
His shroud Confederate gray.

I heard the Shenandoah roll
Along the vale below,
I saw the Alleghanies rise
Toward the realms of snow.
The "Valley Campaign" rose to mind--
Its leader's name--and then
I knew the sleeper had been one
Of Stonewall Jackson's men.

Yet whence he came, what lip shall say--
Whose tongue will ever tell
What desolated hearths and hearts
Have been because he fell?
What sad-eyed maiden braids her hair,
Her hair which he held dear?
One lock of which perchance lies with
The Georgia Volunteer!

What mother, with long watching eyes,
And white lips, cold and dumb,
Waits with appalling patience for
Her darling boy to come?
Her boy! whose mountain grave swells up
But one of many a scar,
Cut on the face of our fair land,
By gory-handed war.

What fights he fought, what wounds he wore,
Are all unknown to fame;
Remember, on his holy grave
There is not e'en a name!
That he fought well and bravely too,
And held his country dear,
We know, else he had never been
A Georgia volunteer.

He sleeps--what need to question now
If he were wrong or right?
He knows, ere this, whose cause was just
In God the Father's sight.
He wields no warlike weapons now,
Returns no foeman's thrust--
Who but a coward would revile
An honest soldier's dust?

Roll, Shenandoah, proudly roll,
Adown thy rocky glen,
Above thee lies the grave of one
Of Stonewall Jackson's men.
Beneath the cedar and the pine,
In solitude austere.
Unknown, unnamed, forgotten, lies
A Georgia Volunteer!

Concurrent Bisynodicalism?

My friend and colleague in the holy ministry, the Rev. Paul Beisel, quoted a snippet from Father Hollywood here.

The Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod has become divided to the point of being (at least) two concurrent synods living within one corporate structure. Perhaps we've become a conservative version of the Anglican Communion that is trying to maintain organizational unity between churches that believe radically different confessions.

The big issues that divide our synod are not things like abortion and homosexuality. We're even pretty much united on the inspiration of Scripture - including such corollary issues as the ordination of women. The really divisive issues (at least in my personal experience) are: closed communion, the role of women in our churches, and worship styles.

The latter has become particularly divisive, and I believe, overshadows the first two. There are other divisive issues, to be sure, such as the rancor over public Christian prayers offered with non-Christians, worship services conducted with non-Lutherans (or even non-Christians), relationships between the LCMS and the ELCA (e.g. joint schools and chaplaincies) and the division over how our synod and its convention should be constituted and governed. However, I see the worship issue as one that continues to drive a wedge deeper and deeper into the heart of Missouri.

While fighting a rear-guard action to fight off office clutter, I ran across a printout of a blog post I wrote back in July of last year. I think it is still an accurate rendering of how we, as a communion with a specific written confession (which is unique among the historic communions of the Christian Church) can disagree so vehemently and suffer such division.

I don't have an answer. But I know the answer is not to ostrich-head ourselves and pretend there is no division. We keep hearing pronouncements from on high that we don't suffer any doctrinal divisions as a synod - merely a diversity of practice. This is simply not true. We do have divisions. We cannot address them until we acknowledge them. If we acknowledge them, perhaps we can resolve them, perhaps not. But one way or the other, we can move on.

We may eventually come to a consensus, or we may have to divide the synod and its resources among two or more successor factions. Simply pretending there is no problem is a foolish approach. It is as dangerous as ignoring a growing tumor out of fear of hearing what the doctor might have to say.

Unity is important, but true unity is by far better than a pretend one.

For Persecuted Christians

For a few weeks, I've been adding a petition to the Prayer of the Church for our persecuted brethren around the world. I recall a lecture by Blessed Kurt Marquart in which he proposed that Christians should never gather without praying for persecuted Christians. Anyway, here is what I slip in to the petitions. Please feel free to join us in this prayer for modern-day confessors and martyrs, and if more churches and confessors should be added, please let me know...

Lord God, heavenly Father, we pray for persecuted Christians around the world, especially for our Lutheran brethren, including the Church of Sudan and their bishop Andrew Elisa, the Church of Kenya and their bishop Walter Obare, the Mission province of the Church of Sweden and their bishop Arne Olsson, the faithful members of the Church of Finland, as well as those persecuted by European governments, including pastors Dr. Johannes Lerle of Germany (sentenced to a year in prison for comparing abortion to the holocaust) and Rev. Ari Norro, (who is to be put on trial on November 16 for refusing to serve at the altar with a woman 'pastor'). Grant them continued courage, steadfastness in the faith, and protection from the evil one."

Sermon: Trinity 16

23 Sept 2007 at Salem Lutheran Church, Gretna, LA
Text: Luke 7:11-17

In the name of + Jesus. Amen.

In our Gospel, Jesus performs one of His greatest miracles – the raising of the dead. In so doing, He demonstrates not only His divinity, but also His completion of the work begun through the prophets – especially that of Elijah in our Old Testament lesson.

Of course, death is the direct consequence of sin. And there is nothing more justifiable than for the Lord to strike every person dead, to condemn all humanity to the same fate as Satan and the fallen angels, and to simply rid the universe of anything and everything undesirable. But fortunately for us, God does not see His handy-work as disposable, as trash to be taken to the curb.

Instead of seeing the widow’s son as just another corpse of just another sinner who got what He deserved, the Lord sees something else. He sees the suffering brought on by sin. He sees a widow weeping over her only son. Instead of looking upon her son (as well as upon her as well) with wrath, with a smug appeal to justice, with anger that would be completely reasonable – our Lord looks upon her with compassion. Instead of seeing the mother as the one who conceived the now-dead son in sin herself, instead of seeing the living spawn of those first rebels in Eden, Jesus sees a person in God’s image who is suffering.

And he has compassion on her.

He tells her not to weep – even though tears are the natural consequence of sin. In telling her to weep no more, He tells her that her time of mourning is over. He tells her that the degradation of the universe is coming to an end. He tells her that the season of the devil’s dominion over God’s good creation is swiftly coming to a close. He tells her that the sting of death is about to be swallowed up by death – by His own death on the cross, to be punctuated by His resurrection – of which our Lord is going to prefigure by using this poor widow’s son as an object lesson about what is to come in the new age that is dawning.

Jesus addresses the young man. For though his ears are closed by death, in spite of the fact that his spirit has vacated his fleshly body – Jesus speaks His powerful Word over his created being: “Young man, I say to you, arise.” The creature obeys the Creator. Our Lord Jesus doesn’t speak in the stead and by the command of anyone. Jesus is not a minister, but is God Himself. “I say to you…” He says. In fact, He isn’t simply saying, He is ordering. And He’s doing more than ordering, rather He is creating. More accurately, He is re-creating. He is quickening the body of this man, speaking the breath of life back into him.

The lifeless body revivifies. The tongue that had been silenced by mortality is loosed. The breath put into him is now expelled in the form of words. And the Lord Jesus presents the boy to his mother anew, a new creation, as one born again, one who has overcome death and the grave. The widow has no reason to weep – except perhaps to shed tears of joy.

Nothing demonstrates the Lord’s motivation in creating a new heaven and a new earth than this one episode. Our Lord’s grand plan to renew and restore isn’t simply an egocentric building plan taken by a king who wants to be immortal. Nor is this great plan to be built upon the backs of the people who rightfully deserve God’s wrath. In fact, the cornerstone of this restoration is none other than the Son of God, God the Son, the sacrificial Lamb, the one who gives life to others, but who, in the words of His mockers at His crucifixion, “cannot save Himself.” The cross is the foundation of the new heaven and the new earth – for it’s here where God does for the whole world what he did for the widow’s son.

And it is done by offering Himself to death.

The reaction of the people is telling. They have observed this wondrous miracle, and they both fear and glorify God. They know that they have seen and experienced the might and the mercy of God. “A great prophet has risen up among us” they say – and yet, they don’t realize how prophetic their own words are (for this Prophet will truly “rise up” from death and speak as well, though unlike the widow’s son, this Son will do so under His own power).

The people are right to see prophecy in this miracle – for it is not only God speaking to His people, it is a prediction of what is to come – the resurrection of Jesus as the firstfruits of the dead, as well as the resurrection of all believers on the last day.

The people also say: “God has visited his people.” This is a personal visitation from God Himself – not merely an angel carrying a message, not just a prophet carrying the Word, not a pastor preaching the Gospel – but rather this is a visit from God Himself. However, there is more to this word “visit” than simply a personal appearance of God. The Greek word is a form of the same word translated as “bishop” or “overseer.” This visitation is the oversight of God looking down upon His creation – not in haughty judgment, but rather in compassionate mercy. This oversight looks forwards to the time when the Lord would visit His people through the work of bishops, of pastors, of overseers and shepherds of the flock, of ministers endowed with authority to speak in the stead and by the command of God. The minister speaks the same prophecy, does the same work, drives back the forces of death and the devil in the same way – by giving life to the dead.

The pastor is not God. He cannot on his own power order corpses to walk out of their graves. Not even Elijah could do that. He cannot re-create matter anew, and roll back the ravages of age and disease – and yet, he does have authority over the cause of these matters. The pastor, the one through whom God continues to oversee and visit His people has the Word of God and the command and the delegated authority to use it to forgive sins – through preaching, absolving, baptizing, and giving the Supper.

In fact, this office of preaching is mentioned at the end of the Gospel lesson, as “this report” circulates through Judea and the region. The word translated as “report” is the Greek word “Logos” – which means literally “the Word.” The Word of God is spoken through the incarnate Word of God (Jesus) and given to preachers to proclaim the Word of God, the good news of the forgiveness of sins, not only throughout Judea, but as our Lord commissions the apostles just before His ascension, they are to take this Word through Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

This Word, this report, this proclamation is translated into the Latin as “sermo.” That which is preached is translated into English as a “sermon” for this reason.

The report of Jesus (who is the Word of God), the proclamation of the Word of God, of the Good News, is carried out by pastors, overseers of congregations of the one holy Church. This has been happening for two thousand years. The Word of the cross has been preached not only in Judea and Samaria, but all around the globe.

In the centuries before the incarnation of Christ, prophets pointed forward to what Jesus would do in the future and applied it in the present. In the centuries after the incarnation, pastors point back to what Jesus has done in the past and apply it to the present.

And the result is the same regardless of time and place. Just as the widow’s son opened his eyes from death, received air once more into his once-dead lungs, and was empowered to speak – so too are sinners in every corner of the globe, in every era, being re-created anew, born again, given a new spirit, and enabled to articulate the Good News of their salvation from death, decay, and damnation.

What a great gift we have all been given, my Christian brothers and sisters! At Holy Baptism, our Lord re-created us. In Holy Absolution, he revivifies what has died in us. In the proclamation of the Holy Gospel, he imparts His all-powerful Word into our ears and hearts, and in his Holy Supper He puts his own eternal and divine flesh and blood into our frail bodies as not only a pledge, but as a literal application of life over death.

Like the widow upon whom Jesus had compassion, we have no more reason to weep. Though we are surrounded by a dying world, we walk about as new creatures, as those who have overcome the world by the grace of the One who has compassion on his undeserving creation, who by His Word alone is able to raise, restore, quicken, and renew for all eternity. Thanks be to God! Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Stranger Than Fiction, Pars Duo

Hmmm. I wonder if this would help my Latin students. This is just plain weird - if it is really true.

Stranger Than Fiction...

Here's the story.

Confession on the Comeback Trail

An interesting article in the Wall Street Journal talking about the Holy Sacrament of Confession and Absolution that not only mentions the Missouri Synod in a positive light, but also quotes a well-known LCMS pastor, Rev. Bruce Kaseman - who not too long ago was a visitor (with his family) to Salem Lutheran Church in Gretna, Louisiana, where I serve.

Here is a quote from the article:

"Protestant theologians are also rethinking the rite. This past summer, the Lutheran Church -- Missouri Synod, a 2.5 million-member branch whose members are spread across North America, voted to revive private confession with a priest. Some theologians have pointed to the writings of Martin Luther and argued that the Protestant reformer, while criticizing the way the rite was administered, never advocated abolishing it. "Some of us were saying, 'Why in the world did we let that die out?'" says the Rev. Bruce Keseman, a Lutheran pastor in Freeburg, Ill.

The Rev. Keseman has sought to revive confession in his congregation by bringing it into pastoral counseling, giving demonstrations to youth groups and preaching about its benefits. Leslie Sramek, 48, a lifelong Lutheran and financial manager who lives near St. Louis, says she never heard about private confession and absolution in church when she was growing up. But two years ago, when the Rev. Keseman announced he would be taking confession privately, she decided to give it a try. At these sessions, the pastor wears vestments and stands near the altar while she kneels and recounts her sins. "I won't say that looking at my sins is pleasant, but they have to be dealt with," says Mrs. Sramek."

It should be noted that we Lutherans never actually abolished Confession and Absolution - rather people just stopped going to confession and pastors stopped emphasizing it. In the decades following World War I, as Lutherans abandoned the German language and became assimilated into the American way of life, we began to mimic our Protestant neighbors - who themselves had abolished private confession (as well as other "catholic" things, such as priestly vestments, altar candles, crucifixes, and the sign of the cross).

Today, we're seeing an interesting phenomenon. One part of the synod is moving further toward Protestantism, with radical and non-liturgical neo-Evangelical worship styles and emphasis on the very-Protestant Ablaze!(tm) program - as evidenced by the recent "official" LCMS youth gathering that featured dancing girls at the contemporary worship service. At the same time, another part of our synod is recovering the reverent and historic Lutheran "Evangelical Catholicism" that emphasizes the Gospel through the liturgy and the sacraments of the Church - typified by the recent Higher Things youth conference that featured a solemn Mass with incense. A tale of two synods!

The fact that there wasn't more opposition to the synodical overture concerning private confession and absolution is a good sign. Now, getting people to come to confession is a little tougher than simply voting for it. But this is encouraging news indeed.

God Smiles on Mr. Al

Look at how the Lord takes care of His sheep.

My parishioner, "Mr. Al" (I won't use his last name for the sake of privacy), who is himself a Father Hollywood reader [I know you're reading, Al. Congrats, you have now become an Internet Object Lesson +HW], headed out of town. He recently had heart surgery to replace some worn-out stints - surgery that was not very successful.

Anyway, Mr. Al found himself in pain this morning while visiting his daughter and son-in-law (the latter of whom is a medical doctor). Since they live only minutes from the hospital, they were able to get Al to the ER right away - where, it seems, he had a heart attack.

Now, here is a lesson worth taking away from this blog: if anyone is planning to have a cardiac arrest, doing so in the ER is some pretty nifty planning. Read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest...

Anyway, Al's doctor was able to successfully replace the stints. It looks like his heart suffered no damage - thanks to being treated so quickly. Had they not chosen Plan B for their vacation plans, Al and Judy might have been a long, long way from the hospital. God obviously has more to do with Mr. Al.

Al will be released from the hospital Sunday. He will go home in better shape than he left - after having a heart attack! From this we may conclude that God works in mysterious ways, and that Mr. Al is one tough dude (by the grace of God, of course).

Dear Father Hollywood readers, please keep Mr. Al in your prayers!

That Seminarian is No Lady

Further reflection on the degrading culture, and the participation of the mainline religious establishment in the descent...

While hunting down graphics for use on my own blog, I ran across a blog run by a Lutheran seminarian. I didn't give it much thought, but marked it in order to have a look in the future.

A few nights ago, the jackhammer inside my head was too loud to sleep. I don't get headaches very often, but this one was a doozy. So, I decided to surf the 'Net until Mr. Sandman evicted the construction worker in my cerebellum.

So, I had a look at the Lutheran seminarian's blog, and I found that the author wasn't exactly a seminarian, but rather a "seminarianette." She was obviously from a subset of American Lutheranism that has a different way of reading Scripture than my own synod. And that's not all that I found different.

It seems that the author attends a non-Lutheran seminary - which, in her denomination is fine - so long as the seminarian or seminarianette attends one of the approved Lutheran seminaries for at least a year. The higher-ups actually gave her an exemption, only requiring her to do part of the requirement - which still miffed her terribly, accusing the denomination of trying to break up her family.

In fact, she was so angry that her public blog post included the "f-word." Oh my! A previous post shows off her new tattoo. Another used a derogatory term for part of the body to describe the driver of a car that displayed a bumper sticker that she disagreed with. There was even a "sermon" she "preached" at a neo-hippie retreat center. For some reason, each person drew pieces of paper out of a bowl with words on them, and she cracked a lot of jokes. Not the kind of homiletics I'm used to.

She is also a huge fan of the "emerging" church - a youth-obsessed fad among disillusioned suburban young adults who seek to reject traditionalism while rejecting the anti-traditionalism of their baby boomer parents.

Many of her posts drop the "f-bomb" and other profanities - in what is simply a sad and juvenile attempt to look "hip." In so doing, she looks about as "hip" as a 12-year old with a cigarette dangling out of her mouth. Embarrassing, in fact.

What's more, this seminarianette has a husband and child. So, when she receives a "call" into her "ministry," I suppose hubby will have to quit his job and follow his "pastorette" wife wherever she is sent. So much for Ephesians 5:22 and following verses (though I realize not everyone believes the quaint notion that the Bible is the Word of God...).

And can you just imagine how proud this child will be growing up? Not only is mom a priestess, she has a tattoo with a quote from Martin Luther and she validates herself by public use of the f-word in her written discourse. That should go over well at the PTA. This is all very strange to me, considering that my own sainted mother was ladylike - no tattoos and certainly no such vulgarities being uttered - and most especially never in public!

Christian womanhood just ain't what it used to be when my sainted great-grandma was around. Lord, have mercy! She considered card-playing and beer drinking to be crossing the line!

I'm also a little surprised that her denomination considers such conduct to be becoming of a clergy-human. I realize that the Scriptures don't carry the same amount of weight in her world of Lutheranism, but, not only does such behavior seem out of line with 1 Timothy 3 and 4, but it just comes across as trashy.

I realize that we have some pretty trashy pastors and goofy churches in the LCMS, but I really do believe that if one of our seminarians were using such lowest-common-denominator trash-talk in his published writings, he would be rendered UFM (Unfit For Ministry) and sent back to sitting on his couch watching Maury with a mouth full of Cheetoes.

At least one can hope.