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This week on HT-Radio, Pastor Borghardt is joined by Conferences Executive, Sandra Ostapowich. Sandra gives a recap of the Te Deum Conferences and what HT conferences are all about.
If you have questions or topics that you’d like discussed on HT-Radio, email them to radio@higherthings.org or send a text to 936-647-3235.
Timothy Sheridan
I’ve always had a problem with confession. Night after night, staring up at the dark ceiling from my bed, I took upon myself the exhausting work of trying to enumerate the sins I’d committed over the past day and then attempted to conjure up sufficient sorrow for what I’d done. Assuming that I reached the point at which I had recalled as many wrongdoings from the past 12, 13, or 14 hours, I would then try to feel the forgiveness that supposedly belonged to me. But the ceiling always stared back at me, indifferent. Was this torturous exercise-an effort most often half-hearted on my part-really what it meant to find rest in Jesus? I coveted physical and spiritual rest, but the yoke felt anything but easy and light. Many nights, I would forego at least some of this agony by falling asleep mid-prayer, giving me one more misstep to confess the following morning or night. As I lingered on the edge of sleep, I felt the old twinge of guilt (more acute some times than at others), because I knew my nocturnal liturgy was really just me hedging my bets. This was not what it meant to receive God’s free gift of forgiveness.
When I became a Lutheran, it was hard to resist the temptation to crack an eyelid when my pastor spoke the words of Absolution. It was a marvelous: objective, full, and free forgiveness of all my sins, accomplished by Christ and applied to me by His own Word. I half-expected to see some ray of glory emanating from the pastor’s hand as he traced the sign of my forgiveness in the air before him and us. I knew all the proof texts given in the Small Catechism concerning Confession and the Office of the Keys, but the horribly familiar gnawing was never far from me, even as I knelt in the pew.
Even though I would sometimes feel as though the Confession and Absolution combination was just as transactional as my desperate nighttime prayers, I was struck by the marked differences between how the liturgy taught me how to confess my sins and how I had always confessed in private. First, it isn’t really just my confession. The Divine Service doesn’t allow for anything like an altar call during which members of the congregation would “do business with God,” confessing the particular sins that ensnared them. Instead, everyone speaks the same words of confession without giving pause to verbalize the specifics. A general form of confession without any sweat, tears, or brooding introspection. At first, this practice seemed rote, insincere, effortless. But the effortless nature of Confession and Absolution is exactly the point. For us, our salvation is just that: We don’t have to work; we do not climb the ladder of piety to gain the approval of God. Kneeling there every Sunday-hearing that I was forgiven simply because Christ, through His called and ordained servant, said so-was the beginning of my consolation.
But I still wanted to know how to better confess my sins daily, outside Divine Service. Article XI of the Augsburg Confession offered peace of mind: “[I]n confession it is not necessary to enumerate all trespasses and sins, for this is impossible. Ps. 19:12, ‘Who can discern his errors?'” (AC XI 2, Tappert p. 34). Trying to discern my errors was a huge part of my problem. Those nights when the ceiling would begin to swim with oncoming sleep, I would hurriedly pray something like, “Forgive me all my sins. Amen.” It’s not the same principle as corporate Confession. My mumbled prayer was just me covering my bases in a different way, but I wasn’t sure how.
Reflecting on Luther’s explanation of the Ten Commandments in the Catechism and being absolved every Sunday gave me perspective that I had never before had on the issue of confession. My personal practice consisted of naming the violations I had committed against God’s Law, but I never used the Law itself to reflect on my sins. My harsh words to a friend meant that I had committed murder in my heart, my lusting entailed that I had committed adultery, so the commandments weren’t completely neglected. But my way of confessing led me to believe that I was only guilty of certain sins and not others. I knew the Epistle of James says that “whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it” (James 2:10). In my mind, I really only transgressed the Law on a handful of discrete points. The evangelical subculture in which I was raised only stigmatized certain sins and applauded certain virtues. I’d been conditioned to know I was accountable for all the Law, but only because I hadn’t kept it perfectly on a couple of points. Some sins didn’t need forgiving because I hadn’t committed them.
But then I began to pray the Ten Commandments daily. I saw my tortured way of confession for what it really was: a feeble attempt at self-justification. So I stopped beating myself up. There was no need: all my sins were right there, numbered one to ten, staring up at me from the Catechism, in Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy. Confession and Absolution taught me just what the Law incessantly declares: don’t argue your sinfulness. Confess it. The Decalogue will show you, as it showed me, that sinners break every single commandment God gave to the children of Israel. All the time. There are no exceptions. A person’s pet sins are only those that he or she commits happily and knowingly. Just because you aren’t aware of the times you offend God’s eternal will doesn’t mean you’re thereby acquitted (I Corinthians 4:4). When the commandments showed me that I was guilty of breaking every letter of the Law, I began to repent by verbalizing each commandment and praying to the Lord for mercy.
For this reason, I love the Kyrie Eleison. It is the prayer of every sinner, like the Canaanite woman whose daughter is possessed by a demon beseeches Jesus, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David” (Matt. 15:22). When Jesus seems to brush off her petition, she simply pleads, “Lord, help me” (v. 25). On another occasion, another parent among the crowd pleads for the Lord to cast out an evil spirit from his son. His petition is also spoken in the spirit of the Kyrie: “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24) Two blind men on Jericho’s outskirts would not be silenced by the masses who think Jesus’ time is better spent on other things, but twice called after Jesus, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” (Matthew 15:31) In Jesus’ own parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the latter knows that he brings only his sinfulness before God when he prays, downcast and dejected, “God, be merciful to me, the sinner” (Luke 18:13). Predating all of these are the words of the penitent King David, whose groanings, part of which have become the verse the Church sings as she moves from the service of the Word to the service of the Eucharist, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions” (Psalm 51:1).
We know the stories. The sinners receive the Lord’s mercy, just as He promised. Jesus forgives them and heals them of all infirmities, spiritual and physical. Despite His comments to the Canaanite woman or His innocent question of the blind men, “What do you want me to do for you?” He doesn’t fool us. “Well, of course Jesus forgave them,” we say. It’s as the Scripture promises, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13).
The rub is believing that Jesus gives the same forgiveness to us, here and now. But we are forgiven and made whole because of Jesus’ own petition for us to His Father, when as He hung, mutilated and disgraced upon the cross, He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Do we dare to think that God does not hear the prayer of His own Son, or that same prayer when we pray in His name, the name He put on us in Baptism?
We know the end of those stories, when the demons flee, vision is restored, and the chains of sin are broken. We’re in good company then when He extends the same promise to us. Our forgiveness is just as much a done deal as the ones in the passages we read in personal devotion and hear read in worship year after year, as done and finished as the agony and victory of Calvary (John 19:30) and just as final as His resurrection from the dead on Easter morning. We’ve been crucified and drowned with the One whose greatest delight is to be merciful to us who are just as desperate, depraved, and doubting as the sinners of old. We’re fed by with the very Body and Blood by the very hands that touched sinners and were stretched out on the beam of the cross.
The story of our salvation is just as certain as those other stories because it’s all Christ’s story. God’s love for us in Christ Jesus is just as certain and unshakable as it was for David, the publican, Bartimaeus, and all the other legions of sinner-saints who have gone before us. Jesus answers our doubt-ridden petitions with mercy, not as if He were some tyrant who demands to see us grovel, but as One radiant and joyful, living in the power of His resurrection, who laughs, “But of course I forgive you! That’s what I promised, didn’t I?” If Jesus has taken care of their sin and accepts their confession by His pure grace, then He won’t have any qualms with yours. Or mine.
Timothy Sheridan is a member of Our Savior Lutheran in Raleigh, North Carolina.
Rachel Keseman
Throughout my junior high and high school years, I attended one of the annual Higher Things conferences almost every summer. I always had a blast making new friends, worshiping with likeminded Lutheran youth, and learning more about our merciful and mighty God and Savior. As I observed the College Conference Volunteers (CCVs) in action throughout those years, I always imagined how much fun it would be to be one when I got older, so I was ecstatic to hear that I was chosen to be a CCV at the 2015 Te Deum Higher Things Conference in Seward, Nebraska. I was doubly excited because the conference was held at Concordia University, where I attend college.
Hands down, my favorite part of the entire conference was the worship. The conference started off with a Divine Service when more than 1,000 Christians receive Christ’s Body and Blood together. During the week, we began each day by attending Matins. We heard God’s Word in Vespers after lunch and in Evening Prayer after dinner. Then right before bedtime, we ended the day with Compline. It was a calming and peaceful to start and end the day, surrounded by God’s Word and promises with so many fellow believers who were eager and excited to immerse themselves in the good news of our Lord and Savior. There are no words to describe the awe I felt when all of our voices joined to sing the opening hymn of the conference, “We Praise You and Acknowledge You.” A shiver went up my spine and goosebumps appeared across my arms. It’s not every day you hear 1,000+ voices singing and amen-ing together as you receive Christ’s forgiveness.
Each conference gives all the participants the opportunity to learn about the faith during a daily plenary session where two speakers focus in on the theme of the conference. This year I had the privilege to listen and learn from my father, Pastor Bruce Keseman, as well as Pastor William Cwirla on the meaning of Te Deum, which is short for Te Deum Laudamus, meaning “You, O God, We Praise.” Our praises are not me deum, meaning praising ourselves, but te deum, meaning the focus is on You (God). We offer praise, but it all starts with God’s gifts to us. During the plenary, I was reminded of how sinful I am, how selfish I am, and how so much of my life is focused on myself, when God should be my main focus because He is the source of my life and forgiveness, and yours, too! Thankfully, our dirty, selfish, sinful selves are forgiven by what Jesus has done on the cross for us. That’s always the primary message at Higher Things. The world around us is filled with sin and hate, disaster, temptations, and horrible events, but none of that should scare us. Even living Te Deum lives of praise in this hostile world should not frighten us, because we can hold on tightly to God’s promise that we and all believers will spend eternity with Him forever in Heaven.
Another incredible part of a Higher Things conference is the opportunity to attend six different breakaway sessions throughout the week. There are a wide variety of topics to choose from, including the basics of the organ (the sectional for which I was CCV), interpreting parables (taught by my dad), forgiveness, addiction and grace (the sectional I learned a lot in), and many other topics of faith. Each breakaway gives us so much information and clarity on topics that may have been confusing before, but usually comes down to one thing: the Gospel of what our mighty and wonderful Savior has done for each and every one of us.
Attending a Higher Things Conference is an amazing experience. What a privilege it is to be surrounded by so many Lutheran adults and youth who are so eager to sing and praise Te Deum, and, most of all, to learn about the promises of our gracious Lord to us!
It was difficult to say goodbye to the new friends I had made being a CCV this summer. My five days with them included not only far more work but also camaraderie than I had ever expected. Some of them I will see again very soon at school; others I will keep in touch with and hopefully get together with in the future. But I know that one day I will see them all again when Jesus comes again to bring me and all believers to live with Him forever in Heaven. Te Deum laudamus!
Rachel Keseman was a CCV the Higher Things Te Deum conference in Seward, NE.
Joseph Greenmyer
This was the first year I have ever attended a Higher Things conference. I had no idea what to expect but this trip was easily a highlight of the summer-probably the best part of it, as a matter of fact. It was filled with not only solid Lutheran preaching and teaching, but also a cavalcade of Star Wars movies. We decided early on in the trip that we were going to watch all 6 movies. The person most excited about this was Pastor Matt, who chipped in some colorful commentary of his own at some of the more ridiculous parts of the movies. Enough about the stars though-this trip was about a lot more “higher things.”
When we first arrived at the conference we all got assigned dorm rooms. As the boys began settling in, we quickly realized that the current sleeping arrangements wouldn’t do, so we all quickly shoved as many beds as we could fit into one room and designated it as our sleeping quarters. Once that was all arranged, we departed promptly for St. John’s Lutheran Church on campus for the opening divine service of the conference. We quickly realized we were in for a treat. Some of our favorite hymns were being sung reverently by 1,000 other people around our age. The preaching didn’t fail either: classic Law and Gospel-Christ crucified for sinners like us. We also got to receive His Body and Blood during this divine service as well as at our closing service. We were also blessed to have matins, vespers and evening prayer services each and every day.
This year’s conference theme was Te Deum, meaning, “We praise Thee, O God.” The hymn that utilizes these words is based on the account in Isaiah 6 where Isaiah is confronted with the Triune God and cannot help but say, “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!” (Isaiah 6:3). The plenary sessions centered around the work of each person of the Holy Trinity. Those sessions were only part of our catechesis, however. We also had breakaway sessions every day that featured different subjects, ranging from “Jesus in a Gay World” to “Mormonism Exposed” and everything in between.
Everyday we woke up around 7:30 and went to bed around midnight, so needless to say we needed to wind down a bit when evening came around. Every night we were also allowed free time; we could use it however we wanted. HT staff provided many inflatable games to keep us busy. My personal favorite is Knocker Ball, in which you get into these giant blow-up hamster bubbles and run at each other as hard as you possibly can. I was a terror to all the freshman and junior high girls who played this game-ask anyone.
I think anyone who went on this trip will testify that it was a blast and we would all do it over again in a heartbeat if we could. We are so thankful to all our chaperones and everyone in our congregation who helped make this trip possible. It never would have happened were it not for the effort of the parents and adults of our church…so I’d like to thank you! I realize that I’m graduating high school and might not always be around Gwinner, North Dakota but if we decide to go to a Higher Things conference again next year you better believe I’m hitching a ride. Until then however we can all be content simply singing, “Te Deum laudamus.”
Joseph Greenmyer is a member at Zion Lutheran Church of Gwinner, North Dakota.
Rev. Michael L. Keith
Funerals are not fun. No, I am not here to put the “fun” back in funerals. That is a really bad idea, actually. Instead, let’s talk about why we have funerals.
We have funerals for two reasons, really.
One is to recognize that death sucks. A lot. Losing a loved one is one of the most difficult things anyone can go through. It rips a hole in you and it crushes your heart. When you lose a loved one it can seem like you have lost everything. It can make you very angry. Angry at yourself. Angry at the people around you. Angry at the doctors. Angry at the person who died. Angry at God.
So we bring all that hurt and pain and sorrow and sadness and anger and rage and doubt and fear and despair and anxiety to God and lay it at His feet. We don’t ignore that we feel this way. This is real. This stinks. It is too heavy for us to carry. We come to God for strength. We gather our loved ones and friends around us so that we can lean on them. We don’t try to do this alone. We lean on the community of which God has made us a part through Holy Baptism-and above all we look to God for help. “I look to the hills, from where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth” (Psalm 121:1).
We are tempted to deny those feelings. Christians shouldn’t feel bad when a loved one dies, right? We should be happy! Our loved one is with Jesus! Why aren’t you happy? Don’t you have faith? Those are VERY unhelpful things to say to someone who has lost a loved one. You see, the trouble is that a loved one is dead. The trouble is that her loved one is not here with her and it hurts. A lot. Yes, she may be able to find some comfort in knowing that her loved one is resting with Jesus-but right now it hurts.
There is a terrible movement in churches to move away from facing those emotions and to ignore them instead-to have a “celebration of life” and to only focus on the good feelings. To pretend that everything is “okay.” To be “nice.” This is really bad. It is not real. The Church is real. Death is real. It isn’t nice and it brings up feelings that are not “nice.” We don’t need to be afraid of our real feelings and emotions when a loved one dies. We need to be honest and bring it all to God. A funeral is often one of the first steps in doing that.
Funerals are for real. They are for real people who have died. They are for real people who hurt and have been broken by the death of a loved one. They are for real emotions and feelings. We don’t have funerals when everything is “okay.” We are broken and beaten and battered and need help!
Funerals are for real. They are for those who need to hear the real Good News that Jesus has destroyed death and conquered the grave. Funerals are so people can hear about the real forgiveness of sins. Funerals remind us to give thanks for the hope of the resurrection of the body-that because Jesus lives, so do we. Funerals are so we can receive real comfort from the Word of God in the middle of one of the worst times in our lives. We have funerals so Jesus can bring His peace and hope and comfort to people who need to hear it. For real.
Rev. Michael L. Keith is Associate Pastor at St. Matthew Lutheran Church and SML Christian Academy in Stony Plain, Alberta, Canada.
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After a short break during the 2015 Conferences, Pr. Borghardt and Jon are back in your ears! This week on HT-Radio they go through the parable of the dishonest manager in Luke 16. Listen in to learn about this parable and the parables before it.
If you have questions or topics that you’d like discussed on HT-Radio, email them to radio@higherthings.org or send a text to 936-647-3235.
Higher Things announces the next set of Daily Reflections are now available. Covering the weeks of Trinity 11 through 16, August 16 through September 26, 2015. As always, these daily devotions are full of the Gospel and ready for you to download as a printable booklet or in a variety of other formats here.
In Christ,
Rev. Mark Buetow
reflections@higherthings.org
Media Executive
Higher Things, Inc.
Chris Vecera
Forgetfulness usually gets you in trouble. If you forget to do your chores or homework, things usually won’t end well. Don’t forget your girlfriend’s birthday or Valentine’s Day! Did you forget to get your dad a card for Father’s Day?
Give it enough time and you’ll forget the things that you wish you could remember. If Facebook didn’t remind you, the fun times you had with friends would disappear into the internet. If it weren’t for pictures, you’d slowly lose the faces of loved ones and friends you don’t see anymore. You want to remember the love that’s been shown to you, but you can’t seem to hold onto those memories tightly. For some reason, when you need some good memories, they aren’t easy to remember.
So why doesn’t it work that way with the things you want to erase from your brain? You remember every detail of the things that you wish you could forget. Sure, you try to hide them. On the outside you do a pretty good job, but eventually they flare up in your mind. You can’t “unsee” the images on the computer screen. You can’t “unthink” the gossip and betrayal. You can’t undo the hook-ups. You can’t forget the beating and abuse. You can’t rewind the failures.
As you eat your Cheerios, you forget the things you want to remember and remember the things you want to forget. The words of the Accuser always seem to win, but there is another Word. It comes from outside of your mind. It’s spoken to you. It goes against your experience.
I was a student in Dr. Rod Rosenbladt’s doctrine class at Concordia, Irvine when I heard this story.
“Pastor,” the young woman’s eyes were bloodshot from crying all night, “Can I talk to you?”
He had just poured his first cup of coffee for the morning, “Of course Jessica, come in. What’s up?” She had grown up in the congregation, and the pastor had known her family for years.
“I can’t sleep,” she said, “I want to talk to Mike, but I can’t. He would be so mad. We’ve been dating for two years, and things were going pretty good. I don’t think he would be able to forgive me. I already feel like everyone looks at me different. I can’t imagine what it would feel like if everyone knew.” Her eyes started to well up, “I’m not even sure I can talk with you pastor. I messed up. I don’t think I can go to church anymore. I can’t face the people, let alone God.”
“What is it Jessica?”
“I had an abortion. Pastor, I should go. I don’t want to burden you.”
“No. No. It’s no burden.”
“How can God forgive me? I didn’t tell anyone I was going to do it. Mike always talks about how he wants to have kids someday. I just wasn’t ready, but after everything…” she was sobbing now, “I wish I would have kept it. I can’t get the doctor’s face out of my mind. I have dreams about going to the clinic over and over again.”
“I’m so sorry.” He paused and the room was silent for a moment, “This may sound strange, but you were in church last Sunday, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember confessing your sins with the congregation?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make the memories go away. Sometimes it makes them worse.”
“That’s one of the reasons we confess our sins and hear the absolution every Sunday. Our memories work against us. We can do it today if you want.”
“Really, we can do that?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” They opened the service book together and read through the private confession and absolution. Through tears she confessed her sin.
“…God be merciful to you and strengthen your faith.”
“Amen,” she whispered.
“Do you believe that my forgiveness is God’s forgiveness?”
Again, in a low and shaky voice, “Yes.”
“Let it be done for you as you believe,” with his hands on her head he gently spoke, “In the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”
After a few moments of silence, she looked up with a grimace, “Thanks pastor. Could you do me a favor though?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Don’t tell Mike about the abortion.”
“What abortion, Jessica?” There was a soft grin on her face. They hugged and she let out a deep sigh in relief. As she left the church office the pastor slowly took his first sip of coffee.
The other Word is a promise. It’s the promise of the new creation. When you can’t forget your sin, because it plagues your conscience, your pastor reminds you that when God sees you He doesn’t see you as you feel: condemned. That condemnation has already fallen on Christ. Instead, He sees you covered in the righteousness of His perfect Son, righteousness that has been won for you on the cross and delivered to you in the words of absolution. This is God’s promise: “I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more” (Hebrews 8:12), and this promise is for you. This word defeats the demons in your mind.
This is the blessed forgetfulness. Rest assured, no Christian will have his sins counted against him. Your sin will to cling to you, but you are blessed with this forgetfulness: You are new and your sin will not be counted against you. It doesn’t feel like it, but it’s true. God will not remember it. Don’t despair. Jesus has done it all for you.
Chris Vecera is the Director of Youth Ministry at Lutheran Church of the Cross in Aliso Viejo, California. He can be reached at promissio5611@gmail.com.
Rev. Dr. Matt Richard
I am no rookie when it comes to youth conventions and youth trips. Calgary, Seattle, Orlando, Estes Park, Southern California, and on and on: these are some of the places that I’ve brought some 200 different youth over the last 15 years. I’ve slept on a lot of church floors, eaten a lot of fast food, rented charter buses, and been to about every amusement park imaginable. I have also seen it all: Christian Rock Bands, Christian Rap Music, Christianized mosh pits, crowd surfing, Praise and Worship Bands, big projector screens, amped up decibels, dynamic speakers, Christian comedians, altar calls, and don’t forget fog machines. None of this though would prepare me for Higher Things.
Since I am new to The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod (i.e., I colloquized, which means that I left my former denomination to join the LCMS), I was interested in taking the youth of my church to something different than what I had experienced before. Furthermore, according to national trends in Christianity, the younger millennial generation is seeking out and returning to the traditional and historical aspects of Christianity. Therefore, from what I could glean, Higher Things was exactly what I was looking for.
So, after a lot of planning in the church and connecting with other area neighboring churches, some 40 youth and chaperones from the region set off to Seward, Nebraska for Higher Things ‘Te Deum.’
While driving, I must confess that I feared how the youth would respond to Higher Things. I thought to myself, “Would the traditional aspects of Higher Things ruffle feathers? Would they be freaked out and overwhelmed by having to attend over 14 liturgical services in three-and-a-half days? Would they be turned off by the amount of teaching that they would receive?”
To my surprise, none of these fears came true. In fact, not a single youth asked to skip a session or a service, but rather, they attended every session and were typically early to the worship services. They even expressed in my post-Higher Things survey that the worship services were the highlight of their trip, even more so than the Wild West Water Park and the Omaha Zoo that we went to before and after the convention. Why was this so? I have a couple of theories.
From the very get-go it was communicated to the youth and chaperones that we were at Higher Things not for a vacation or for entertainment reasons, but we were there to learn from the Word as we were grafted into the church’s historical liturgy. In other words, if a conference communicates at its opening session and through its marketing that it will be hip, cool, relevant, and entertaining, then the conference attendee will naturally expect to be entertained and will expect the entertainment factor to increase with the itinerary flow of the conference. Furthermore, if a conference goes this route of trying to ‘wow’ the conference attendee, then a consumerism mentality will develop leading the attendees to only attend that which appeases the consumeristic desire. Considering this, entertainment clearly was not the motive of Higher Things in its marketing or its opening service, but rather we were all there to hear the Word of God and to be pulled into the historical worship services of the church. It wasn’t about us, but it was about something more that we were a part of.
Secondly, in attending all the worship services, we encountered something that was totally foreign to our culture and every day lives: Matins, Vespers, Evening Prayer, etc… These services were conducted with albs, the sign of the cross, crucifers, bowing, a majestic organ, and robust chanting. Because of this, these services were not something that we could dismantle and take into our own religious experiences, but rather, we were taken out of 2015 and placed into another dimension where everything was different. At first I think this was a bit uncomfortable for many, but there was something matchless about singing complicated old songs with 1,000 other people from all walks of life. Indeed, there was something that intrigued the group. Was it the tune of the songs, was it the dynamic-ness of those leading, or was it something else? I believe that it was the fact that we were grafted into something higher and more developed than ourselves. Otherwise stated, these services were not wedged into our individualistic religious experiences or adapted to our modern sensibilities-like so many churches do today-but rather, we were inserted into something bigger and much older. We were implanted into the songs, melodies, singing, and theology of the historic church from the past and present, from North America to Africa. We were the church of the present, but also the church of the past. We were attending Grandpa and Grandma’s church; we were attending Martin Luther’s church; we were attending C.F.W. Walther’s church. We were of one voice with our forefathers and with literally millions across the world.
It all makes sense. Why would a conference attendee want to miss out on something like this? If it was merely entertainment, it could be accessed later on an iPhone. If it was just another religious experience, it could be watched on Youtube later.
Considering all of this, I am beginning to see first-hand what current research is assessing among the millennial generation, as well as what I witnessed with my youth. That is to say, in our every changing world, with its speedy technology and fast access to news and media, there needs to be a haven of security. There needs to be a ‘constant’ in a world of change. With all the blowing reeds in the wind, there needs to be that which does not bend, but stands firm. That constant is the historical church with her liturgy, theology, and unchanging confession of Christ-crucified for sinners, delivered in the unchangeable Word and Sacraments. This constant is not only found in many Lutheran Churches, but is especially found in and demonstrated by Higher Things.
Rev. Dr. Matt Richard is Pastor at Zion Lutheran Church in Gwinner, ND. He and his youth group attended Te Deum – Seward.
Claire Houser
I was so excited when I found out I was going to be a CCV (College Conference Volunteer) at this year’s Higher Things conference. As I anticipated the busy week months in advance, I thought about the activities, the adventures, the friendships that I would experience. What I think I was most thrilled about was this years theme, “Te Deum.” A hymn that begins te deum laudamus, ‘We praise you, O God.’ If you have never been to a Higher Things® conference, you should know that there is something truly breathtaking about a thousand young people singing the liturgy. I was excited to praise God with so many other fellow Lutherans.
Before the conference, I was excited for all of the things I was going to do. I would worship, I would learn, my faith would be strengthened by attending. I was thinking “te deum” was all about me praising God. Oh, how I was wrong! Pastor Bruce Keseman explained it perfectly in the plenary sessions. He pointed out that te means ‘you’, deum ‘God’, and laudamus ‘we praise.’ ‘Thee, o God, we praise.’ That changes everything! By correcting the word order we have changed the emphasis from us to God. We don’t go to the Divine Service to praise God but to receive Christ’s gifts and respond with thanks and praise by faith.
Although I knew this, I needed to be reminded of it. Through a week packed with catechism, I was reminded that my ugly, broken, narcissistic self has a new identity. No longer am I covered with the filth of sin, I am made holy. In my baptism, Christ took on my sins and gave me His righteousness. His innocent blood has covered me. God now looks at me and sees Christ. In Christ, I am perfect and holy.
Breakaways are another favorite at Higher Things. It’s common that groups will pick and chose which ones to attend, planning out not only where they will go but the fastest route in order for front-row seats. Similar to picking your fantasy football team, church groups carefully chose their break aways making sure they regrouped and recapped each detail after. I had the privilege of helping Reverend Preston Paul in his break away, Lord, Teach Me to Pray! He spoke about Genesis 2:7. God breathed into Adam and he breathed back. God speaks to us and we speak back! Everything we have and do has been given.
This conference was a blessing to attend. I needed to be reminded of the Law and the Gospel. I had assigned several expectations for this years conference, but I received even greater gifts. I received forgiveness of sins, unity with Christ, and the promise of life eternal. The amazing memories, life long friendships, and great adventures I made were certainly gifts from God. But, most importantly I received the gift, the gift of Christ for us.
The worst part? Leaving.
Worshipping in a beautiful church with a thousand people certainly feels like heaven. In the Divine Service we tasted heaven. God promised to come to us by His Word and Sacraments. Heaven is unity with Christ. We can rest assure that every Sunday we experience this at the altar. Saying goodbye to good, lutheran friends is hard, but I have already made plans to see them all soon! I know at the Lord’s table I will commune with them even if they are miles away. Unity with Christ is unity with his church.
Higher Things pointed me to higher things. It pointed me to Christ. I was excited for all the ways I could serve God, yet I was reminded that I can only serve Him because he first served me. He breathed into us, He loved us, and He died for us. Thee, o God, we praise!
Claire Houser was a College Conference Volunteer at Te Deum in Seward, NE.
