One Year Past the Seminex Semicentennial

Yesterday marked a very auspicious date. Fifty-one years ago, the liberal faculty majority of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, Missouri, — together with the liberal student majority, to the tune of 80-90% of the student body — staged a dramatic walkout from the seminary grounds, parading out of the chapel singing “The Church’s One Foundation” and marching off campus to the flashing cameras of the waiting press — yes, waiting: as with other left-wing street performances, the fourth estate had been briefed ahead of time. Take off your shoes, Shmuel: the ground you’re marching on is astroturf.

In the standard telling of things, “The Walkout” is generally held to be the denouement in the Missouri Synod’s fight against theological liberalism. In “the sixties” things started to “get bad.”¹ As the seventies got underway “things came to a head,” and then “the dam burst” on February 19, 1974. Nowadays people refer to the whole debacle as “Seminex.”²

I use these cliché phrases and scare quotes — and, no, I will give no citation — because for the purposes of this article, the details of the conflict don’t really matter. They matter in an absolute sense, certainly, but when it comes to the Missouri Synod’s bearing in the Church today, the details are, in addition to being somewhat boring, basically irrelevant.³ Men should eventually put away childish things.

And it is indeed a childish thing that the LCMS does every year at this time, en masse. Tubby dysgenic Good Solid Confessional Guys from Team Ft. Wayne mount up on their Shetlands, arm themselves with pool noodles, and charge madly at the gay-presenting, vasectomized Eloi from Team St. Louis who are, yet again, getting started on their annual quest to “thoughtfully revisit” Seminex and “understand both sides” by giving everyone a “helpful” vs. “problematic” report card. “A Mighty Fortress” blares from a bugle, fell deeds with polyethylene foam are meted out, and the GSCGs declare victory. Everyone heads off together to the nearest brewpub for chili fries, stopping only to urinate en masse on the grave of Herman Otten. Don’t take it too hard, St. Louis guys — the first round of hazy IPAs is on us!

But in case you haven’t noticed, the fruits of victory supposedly bestowed upon the faithful of the LCMS by the heroic conservative clergypersons who stood in the gap during the Seminex crisis are a lot like the fruits of victory enjoyed by the Allied nations after the Second World War: long gone. They were rather ephemeral to begin with, and they were soon replaced by other fruits, which look much more like the fruits of defeat . . . because they were and they are. Savor your ration of orange gummies, because you’re about to eat Soylent Green for the rest of your life. No, we don’t have any orange trees anymore. Now get back to work. That interest isn’t going to pay itself.

Scapegoating the Sixties

In crafting the standard historical narrative of Seminex, the conservative LCMS establishment has leaned heavily on one of the favored tropes of American conservatism more generally: man, those 1960s!

But really, the rot in Missouri preceded the sixties. We won’t say “started much earlier,” because that would suggest that we know exactly when it “started,” and we do not — and this is not because we are not bright enough or not knowledgeable enough to make such an assessment (our mother assures us that we are); rather, it is because the question of “when did the rot start” concerns a causa irrealis. Henry Maine’s comment in Popular Government lands near the mark here:

Next to what a modern satirist has called ‘Hypothetics’ — the science of that which might have happened but did not — there is no more unprofitable study than the investigation of the possibly predictable, which was never predicted.

So we will not engage in such an unprofitable study. It suffices to say that Missouri was already on the road to liberalism well before the evil 1960s — and that she was already murdering her prophets.

Paul Kretzmann and Missouri’s Post-War Capitulation

In this matter the case of Paul Edward Kretzmann is instructive. Kretzmann was one of the great men of our church during what is sometimes called the “Forgotten Era” of the old Missouri Synod.⁴ Intrepid Lutherans has a fine summary of Kretzmann’s life and work in a post from 2011, so we will simply quote it here:

The name Dr. P. E. Kretzmann (1883-1965) ought to be a familiar one to Lutherans of the WELS and ELS, as well as those from other Lutheran church bodies tracing their lineage through the old Synodical Conference. His four volume commentary, Popular Commentary of the Bible, has graced the shelves of our church libraries since the 1920’s, and has, throughout this time, been regarded as a reliable non-technical commentary on the Scriptures. Dr. Kretzmann was raised in a modest parsonage, yet grew to become a highly educated “doctor of the church,” eventually holding three earned doctorates (Ph.D, Ed.D and D.D.) with which he served the LCMS in several prominent capacities, and the church at large through a prolific body of published works, including books and articles on history, education, theology, as well as children’s stories and sermons. When troubles began to surface in the LCMS beginning in the 1930’s, we see his commitment to the doctrines of plenary inspiration and biblical inerrancy and authority in his brilliant defense of these doctrines, The Foundations Must Stand! The Inspiration of the Bible and Related Questions – a brief work which begins by recounting the recent history of attacks against these vital Christian teachings, and which continues with an explication of Scripture’s teaching concerning itself, a teaching which has been held by orthodox Christians throughout the history of the Church.

Yes, “troubles began to surface in the LCMS beginning in the 1930’s.” And what did the conservatives of the LCMS do?

The same thing they do now: they had conferences for two decades.

Two decades of unforced errors in lieu of enforced orthodoxy. By the end of it all, concern over the errors in question had more or less morphed into concern for institutional preservation, i.e., concern about whistleblowers not respecting sacrosanct “proper channels” and the authoritative verdicts of vaunted synodical gatekeepers.⁵ Sound familiar? If not, it should.

While both the average BMI of the conference participants and the average IBU and ABV of the beer was lower from 1930-1950 than what you’ll see on the endless GSCG conference circuit today (truth be told, after-conference Gemütlichkeit might not actually have been the main priority back then), the overall approach was largely the same: talk a lot and do nothing, because doing anything would result in fracturing the “unity” of our precious Synod, which the conservatives deluded themselves into thinking was the same as a hard-won doctrinal consensus — and let’s be honest, divisions are embarrassing, never mind what St. Paul says about them.

The unfortunate truth is that for the better part of the last 100 years, conservative Lutherans in America have more and more tried to ape the papists — and in more ways than one. Specifically in view here, however, is the façade of outward institution prestige and imaginary unity which conceals a rotting framework and a crumbling foundation.

Which is more or less what Paul Kretzmann’s critique of Missouri in the late forties and early fifties boiled down to.

You see, Kretzmann was a man of the Right, not a conservative, really (although he may have called himself one). He wanted to fight liberalism by fighting liberals. He wanted to drive them out of the Lutheran Church like Our Lord drove the money-changers out of the Temple, and he was not naive about this being the necessary approach. He did not believe that a spiritual battle, in order to be properly “spiritual,” could consist only in overthrowing abstract propositions, as though the works, ways, wares, and leaven of the enemies of Christ could be done away with, but the purveyors of such things could still be allowed free reign in the Church and in her adjacent institutions.

Kretzmann knew that to refuse to “put away from among yourselves that wicked person,” to refuse to “deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh,” to refuse to reject a heretic “after the first and second admonition” — he knew that such “merciful” refusals constituted defiance of Almighty God and a forsaking of the eternal Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Kretzmann knew that the toleration of error in the Church made a man a participant in the sins of others and sold the birthright of the children for the pottage of worldly Respectable Opinion. He knew that the cost of such unfaithfulness would be paid in souls snatched by the jaws of the ravening lion of hell, who would now be free to prowl within the very nurseries of the Church, unimpeded by the ancient landmarks, now moved, and the old doctrinal stockade, now dilapidated and unkept.

Because he understood the friend/enemy distinction, Paul Kretzmann wanted to beat the liberals. And the conservatives of the Missouri Synod hamstrung his efforts and mocked him for it. So with a heavy heart, Kretzmann took his leave of Missouri in 1951.⁶

But you don’t hear about 1951. Many in Missouri know nothing of Kretzmann. His prolific body of work is not read at the seminaries, and his magisterial four-volume commentary on the Bible is derided as unsophisticated and outdated by Missouri’s theological tastemakers.⁷ All in all, he is belittled by academic manlets who possess a third of his intellectual acumen and a tenth of his piety.

We did it, Patrick!

No, no, no, friend — let me tell you about 1974! That’s when we won the Battle for the Bible. Ah, how glorious it was. We showed ’em! We sure did. Stood up tall on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E.

No.

In 1974 Missouri swept her house, it is true. But she did not do so in the earnest manner of the woman who had lost her precious coin, but in the manner of the one that cleaned and furnished the vacant house for the returning demon and his seven friends. “And the last state of that man is worse than the first.”

The conservatives of Missouri in 1974 were rather like a woman who, out of a great concern not to damage her beautiful hardwood floors, refused to listen to the remediation man who reported that she had an infestation of black mold proliferating under her feet, and instead just swept the floor and beat the rugs. Oh yes, the Baptist and Presbyterian neighbors were very impressed by that cloud of dust coming off the front porch. “My, what a housekeeper that German dame is!” they thought.

And who was that remediation man? It isn’t fair to say that there was only one, but we’re going to do it anyway, because this is a Great Man Theory respecting website:

Herman John Otten

The mantle that Paul Kretzmann took up in the late 1940s, Herman Otten took up in the late 1950s. And for his troubles he earned the status of a pariah, a man who “went way too far” and thus could not be allowed to serve as a pastor in the Synod.⁸ Throughout the 1960s LCMS conservatives were happy to use Otten’s receipts in their contests with the liberals, but they ultimately wanted nothing to do with the man.⁹

Search high and low for an epitome of Missouri’s attitude toward her prophets, and you will find many contenders, but it’s tough to beat what went down in the Ft. Wayne seminary library in January 2017, at least in terms of snide mockery, when the seminary president, Larry Rast (vocals and lead guitar), and the synod president, Matthew Harrison (background vocals and rhythm guitar), slandered the elderly Otten to the gathered guests of the annual Theological Symposium.

What you are about to see is very cringe. Viewer discretion is advised.

Head on over to YouTube for the full concert experience.

Semicentennial Plus One

As it was with Kretzmann, as it was with Otten, as it has been with others whose names are lesser known, thus and so does the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod treat its whistleblowers today, whether the issue under investigation is the Synod’s official doctrinal publications or the state of its overseas missions. Excuse me? You did a Matthew 18. Proper channels. Point of order. Actually, no, we audited ourselves and found that we are in perfect accord with the Word of God. “Explain everything in the kindest way. It’s just a speck. Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves.”¹⁰ And by the way, that’s us, the Missouri Synod — we have the rule over you.

But such Jesuitical trickery is losing its power.

More men are heading back to church than ever before, and they are on fire for the godly heritage which Missouri claims to possess as the self-anointed steward of world confessional Lutheranism. These men are searching the Scriptures. They are reading the Church fathers — unexpurgated. They are reading the Lutheran Confessions and the writings of the great men of our church — men like Martin Luther, Paul Kretzmann, and Herman Otten. These men who are returning to church are like householders bringing forth things new and old out of the treasure of Christendom, for themselves and for their children.

And they compare it all to what is coming out of the official channels of the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, and they are disgusted. They are not going to let smarmy chumps in purple clericals piss on their backs and tell them it’s raining. “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed” — yes, even if he has an M.Div and three honorary doctorates.

Christian men want the pure Word of God, and they’re going to get it.

To end where we began: we are one year out after a most auspicious date, the semicentennial of Seminex. How’s it going? How about those fruits of victory fifty years ago? Do you feel like your church is winning?¹¹ Do you feel a bit like you’re on that roller coaster featured at the top of this piece, about to take a gut-wrenching plunge?

Perhaps you can answer that question right now, or perhaps only time will tell. It’s been a pretty kinetic two years in the Missouri Synod. One thing is certain: things have been set in motion that are not going to spin down for a long time.

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1. Some LCMSers might know that the narrative starts earlier than this; most, however, do not. ↩︎
2. The disaffected libs would go on to establish Christ Seminary, which they called the “seminary in exile” — hence the portmanteau “Seminex” which soon came to serve as the term of art for referring to the whole ordeal from start to finish. Non-Lutheran readers will be interested to know that this is the contingent which would eventually join up with other liberal Lutheran bodies (the ALC, the LCA, and others) to form the notorious Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, or ELCA, in 1988. ↩︎
3. If you want to learn about the events immediately precipitating the Walkout, read Exodus from Concordia: A Report on the 1974 Walkout, published by the the Board of Control of Concordia St. Louis in 1977. Then watch the videos in this playlist. Then, if you are still interested in the topic, read Anatomy of an Explosion by Kurt Marquart. Skip everything else. ↩︎
4. If this term is unfamiliar to you, be sure to check out these episodes from Word Fitly Spoken on the topic ↩︎
5. Kretzmann’s own account of the history of these decades can be read here. ↩︎
6. One of our writers recently highlighted a point of doctrine on which Missouri very clearly changed its position, which was also pointed out by Kretzmann in 1949: the biblical teaching that marriage is entered into by “rightful betrothal.” Further elucidation here. Read Peperkorn’s STM thesis in full here. See also footnote 5. ↩︎
7. The Kretzmann Project is the canonical online repository for Kretzmann’s commentary on the Bible. Note that when a book of the Bible is selected, a dropdown titled “Select Article” appears. Here readers can find all of Kretzmann’s topical doctrinal essays from the original commentaries. These are pure gold. For those desiring a resource with permalinks to commentary on specific passages, we recommend the version found at Bible Portal. ↩︎
8. For the details here, see Marquart. Marquart and Otten were roommates at Concordia Seminary and remained fast friends their whole lives. ↩︎
9. The St. Louis seminary faculty refused to certify Otten for ordination back in 1957, but the congregation of Trinity Lutheran Church in New Haven, MO, called him to serve as their pastor, anyway — an office which he faithfully performed for fifty-five years. This event prompted the LCMS to rewrite its Bylaws so as to foreclose the possibility of such an “outrage” ever occurring again. ↩︎
10. “They quote also Heb. 13:17: ‘Obey them that have the rule over you.’ This passage requires obedience to the Gospel. For it does not establish a dominion for the bishops apart from the Gospel. Neither should the bishops frame traditions contrary to the Gospel, or interpret their traditions contrary to the Gospel. And when they do this, obedience is prohibited, according to Gal. 1:9: ‘If any man preach any other gospel, let him be accursed’” (Apology of the Augsburg Confession, Article XXVIII: “Of Ecclesiastical Power,” 20). ↩︎
11. Do you think that wanting to win is the “theology of glory”? If so, you might be retarded. Walter A. Maier does not want you to reproduce. ↩︎