Perhaps you have had a sleepless night or two, and a thought that keeps coming into your head.  And you say to yourself,  “Maybe, I could be a pastor.  Maybe, that’s what I was meant to do.  But, how do I know if I’m called?”

I think of young Samuel.  As you may recall, Samuel was lying down in the temple, when he heard a voice calling his name. (1 Samuel 3) Thinking it was Eli, he ran to the priest.  But Eli said that he had not called Samuel, and told him to go back to bed.  Again, Samuel heard a voice calling out his name, and again he ran to the priest.  Sensing what was going on, Eli advised, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So, Samuel went back to bed, and heard the Lord calling,  “Samuel, Samuel.”  At which point, Samuel answered, “Speak for your servant hears.”

Well, that’s all well and good, you say.  But, the voice in your head is a thought not a sound.   So, you remain restless, and wondering, “Is the Lord calling me?” If only there was someone like Eli who could help me out!”

Now, unless you’re some raving egomaniac, you’ll probably have some self-doubts.  Moses was worried he wouldn’t be a good enough speaker.   Isaiah thought of himself as too great a sinner to stand in the presence of the holy Lord, much less serve as his spokesman and prophet.  And bold, brash Peter, upon being called, cried out, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” (Luke 5:8)
Who among us is better educated than Moses?  And, will I even be able to pass Greek?  And who among us is more holy than Isaiah or Peter?   Indeed, none of us is truly worthy to be a pastor. And, it seems only right that we say, “No, I can’t do it.  Better men are needed.”

Perhaps, though, you do have an Eli, someone who can see your potential.  That Eli might be another member of your church, or perhaps, your pastor.  And your pastor might be saying, “Have you ever considered becoming a Pastor?”  Or, “You know what, I think you’d be a good preacher.”  Or, “I think you have what it takes.” If you have doubts, if you are wondering, give your pastor a call.  As is very often the case, others often have a better perspective on us, than we do ourselves.  And, if others confirm what you suspect, then you’re probably on the right track.

And, one last thing to consider.  There are many folks like Jonah, who come to the seminary only after many years of wondering.  After many sleepless nights.  If you think the Lord is calling you, and your pastor agrees, then he probably is.  And, frankly, life’s short.  The harvest is great and the workers are few.  So, yes, admit that you are unworthy of the office.  But, then, be bold in answering the Lord’s call.  For it is through unworthy servants that his gospel is preached, and people are brought into life and salvation.

Dr. Peter Scaer

A few days ago I had my annual pleasure of speaking about placement with our entering seminarians during orientation. I usually tell them about how thrilling call night is—one of THE MOST EXCITING days of a man’s (and a family’s!) life! The night you look forward to for four years, the moment you learn that God really does have a place for you to serve in His kingdom . . . and where. After your wedding day and the birth of your children (and your baptism, though many of us don’t remember it), this night is IT.

But this year I had a feeling—confirmed by a quick show of hands—that our entering class had on their collective minds a little less thrilling concern. Nearly all of them had heard that 31 men—13 from our seminary and 18 from St. Louis—hadn’t been able to enjoy call night this past spring because there simply weren’t enough requests for candidates to go around. So here’s what I told them.

First, this is actually a great time to be starting at the seminary, call wise. To begin with, I updated them on those unplaced guys. Nearly all are now in congregations, which means we’ve nearly completed placing the two largest classes since the 1980s. Fact is, we’ve placed more men the last two years than in almost three decades. Last year’s class and this year’s class were identical size—huge! And, yes, there were calls enough for all of them. It’s just that with two consecutive classes that large, it took a while for enough calls to come in. Now the upcoming classes are substantially smaller. But the number of requests for candidates should continue to be large and growing. That’s because the even larger classes of the early 1970s are now reaching retirement age. Do the math. Our recruitment at the two seminaries today is nowhere near replacing the men from those classes. Men starting the seminary this year will be stepping into all those shoes—and right now that looks like more shoes than we’ll be able to fill.

But, second, I told the guys, you didn’t come here “to get a job.” If that’s what you were all about, you could have stayed where you were already living or mailed your resume to all those companies who do what you already know how to do. You didn’t come here to get a job. You came here to serve the Lord. Which means you trusted Him to care for you in matters a lot more challenging than mere creature comforts. Sure, He knows you and your family need an income, a place to live, a way to pay for your kids’ college. And He knows how to provide. He fed Elijah by a flock of ravens! But you trust Him for much more important things than that. You know He’ll be with you in each sermon you write, each time you comfort a woman who’s lost her husband, each time you say that silent prayer for tact and diplomacy before addressing a touchy issue at the voters assembly. You trust Him to give you and your family eternal salvation by Jesus’ death and resurrection. And you came to the seminary because you wanted to share that trust—and the reason for it—with lots and lots of other people. Didn’t you!

It was a different kind of pleasure sharing all that with the new class . . . but it’ll be just as thrilling for them when call night comes!

Dr. Carl C. Fickenscher II
Associate Professor in Homiletics
Dean of Pastoral Education and Placement

In follow up to an earlier post on this blog, we asked Dr. Paul Grime to offer his reflections.  Dr. Grime is our Dean of Chapel and professor of liturgics.  But prior to coming to CTS, he was the chief architect for our synod’s newest hymnal.  His comments are below (Stieg).

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It’s almost ten years since work began in earnest on the Synod’s latest hymnal, Lutheran Service Book. Among the many big issues that we knew would challenge us was the matter of language. What style of language would we use? An older style? An updated style? Something in between?

Just 18 months after we began, the Roman Catholic world was rocked by the release of a new instruction on liturgical language. Liturgiam Authenticam, published in late the spring of 2001, called on translators of liturgical texts to adhere more closely to the original, Latin version. I remember very well one ecumenical gathering where some prominent Roman Catholics openly worried that the liturgical reforms of the last 30 years were about to be turned back. By the tone of their voices, you wondered whether they were headed back to the stone age.

As far as our work on LSB was concerned, we felt somewhat vindicated by the direction we were taking, which was to aim for a literal translation of texts wherever possible, yet to strive for translations that weren’t stilted or wooden. Of course, that is easier said than done. Our most difficult challenge concerned the old “Page 15” service from The Lutheran Hymnal (now Setting Three in LSB). With a full one-third of our congregations still using TLH, we knew that this service needed to be treated carefully. We actually went through three or four “test” versions that we tried out in congregations that were using TLH. We toyed with updating the language and providing dual translations, but eventually settled on a fairly conservative course. For those parts of the service where text was wedded to music, we kept the text “as is,” in other words, using the archaic language as found in TLH. But, for the spoken parts of the service, we gently updated the language, something that many pastors were already doing in their spoken parts. For the most part, reception of this service has been good.

If you’re interested in reading more about the new directions in the Roman Catholic Church, go here where you can see examples of the changes that have now been approved—seven years later.

If you want to see the language guidelines that were used in the development of LSB, go here. Take a look at the discussion on page 4 concerning “Archaic and Obsolete Language.”

Paul Grime
Dean of the Chapel, CTS
LSB Project Director (1999-2007)

Today was a busy but typical day for this pastor.  It was the first day of school for our Academy, and like so many good Lutheran schools, we have a hymn of the week.  The hymn for this week is a new one in Lutheran Service Book, entitled “O Christ, Who Shared Our Mortal Life” (LSB 552).  The text is a powerful one, and uses the three resurrections that our Lord performed as the basis for the hymn: the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the son of the widow of Nain, and Lazarus.  The text is by Herman Steumpfle.  The music is by Kantor Kevin Hildebrand of Concordia Theological Seminary.

There is much that could be said about the text of this hymn.  It holds up some of the best characteristics of twentieth century hymnody: powerful word painting, vivid imagery, strong biblical connections, etc.  But I mostly want to talk about the music of this text.

The music for this text, entitled “Lord of Life”, can be best described as haunting yet hopeful.  The topic of the text is death and resurrection, and following the biblical imagery, there are three stanzas that really address the grief of the bereaved.  The music beautifully holds this up.  There is a strength in classic Lutheran chorales that they don’t hide from grief.  Paul Gerhardt is perhaps best known for this.  In the same way, the music has to hold up this very real tension of grief and hope.  Hildebrand’s melody does this well.

But it’s more than that.

In the span of a day, I sang and taught this at our K-8 school chapel, sang and prayed it with a parishioner in the hospital with multiple chronic illnesses, used it to meditate on the text for the upcoming Sunday, and then sang, taught and prayed it with my own family before going to bed.  What a gift!  What a treasure!

Any music that can be taught to kindergartners and then used to comfort an eighty year old man is worth learning.

This is also a great example of why I love being a pastor.  We get to hold these great treasures of the Gospel up to God’s people, young and old.  I probably sang this hymn a dozen times today.  I’ll sing it a dozen more times tomorrow.  What could be bad about that!

-Pastor Todd Peperkorn

Someone at church told you that you’d make a good pastor.  You find that you enjoy volunteering at the church.  The church youth group (or bible class or men’s club or evangelism committee) responds well to your leadership.

Not many of us get a burning bush in the desert telling us, like Moses, to be God’s spokesmen.  But the above examples are good indications that you’d be well suited for the pastoral office.

So now you’re more than interested.  The idea of becoming a pastor is on your mind every day.  Naturally, you are worried about how you’ll support your family if you go back to school.  You wife is supportive but cautious.  The kids don’t want to move.  Self doubt roars in the background.

All of that is common and natural.  Jesus never promised that your life on earth would be easy.  And if the easy life is what you seek, you should definitely not become a pastor.  If you are not willing to lose everything, including your family, don’t become a pastor.  If you are not willing to be ruined, humiliated, tortured and killed, then do something else.  Obviously, most pastors don’t face those extremes of persecution but the willingness is all.  Die to the world.

If you’ve now been sobered and are still reading this post, then you should definitely take the next step.  Every long journey begins with those first few tippey toes.  What is your next step?  For some of you, the next step is to phone my office (800-481-2155).  For others, the next step is to pay a campus visit.  But for many of you who have already talked to us and have been to the campus, now is the time to fill out the application.  Go here to download an application form.  Fill it out and send it to me today.  You don’t know what tomorrow may hold.  Do it TODAY!

If you think that you could be at the seminary in fall 2009 or 2010, then RIGHT NOW is the best time to apply.