Because Jesus Taught It. By Flame. Concordia Publishing House. Paperback. 205 pages. List price: $17.99.
It seems like every Christian author these days thinks the American church is in very bad shape, but they do not agree on the source of the problem. Some believe we have too many megachurches and celebrity pastors. Others insist we have become too enmeshed in politics or done too little to tackle abuses in our midst. But in his new book, Because Jesus Taught It, Flame suggests another malady that lies behind the others: we have dismissed historic Christian understandings of baptism and the Eucharist.
This suggestion is so traditional, it will seem novel to many in the broad realm of American evangelical Christianity. Flame spent his early years in that world before encountering the depths of historic Christian theology while studying at Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, Missouri. This is not a theoretical matter for him: he has lived it, enduring years of uncertainty about his standing before God in which he was urged to look within himself for assurance of his sanctification. Now he looks instead to the sacraments, writing that “the Sacraments are the Gospel. They are God at work in His church, healing His children from the curse of sin and death and nurturing us with forgiveness and comfort” (pg. 19).
Of greatest concern to Flame are Christian traditions that take a purely symbolic view of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, interpreting them only as proclamations we make to God and others, or opportunities to remember what Christ has said and done. Flame’s point is not that these sacraments are not those things, but that they are far more: the giving of God himself to his people.
“Because some Christians in the contemporary context have turned the Sacraments into outward signs or metaphors pointing to what Jesus did long ago, we are positioned to look to ourselves in a way that is unnatural to Christian history. We now feed our God-given appetite, one that He placed in us, with a meal God has not prepared for us: our own fruit. Rather than feeding on and finding satisfaction in Christ’s body and blood given for the forgiveness of sins, in the bread and the wine, we feed on our personal improvement. Rather than finding relief for our souls in the waters of Baptism, we soak in our spiritual growth and ability to climb up the moral ladder toward heaven to find assurance” (pg 16-17).
Flame points readers back to the teachings of the church fathers, quoting from theologians such as Irenaeus of Lyons, Tertullian, Ignatius of Antioch, and Augustine of Hippo to demonstrate that the earliest Christians believed in baptismal regeneration and the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. As he explains:
“This is not to say that there is perfect agreement in every little thing among the early church fathers and their writings. There certainly are differences, both subtle nuances and strong points of disagreement on certain matters between those early teachers of the church. Yet this is not the case concerning baptismal regeneration or the nature of the Lord’s Supper. There is an airtight unity among the church fathers related to God’s work in Baptism and Jesus’ bodily presence in the bread and wine” (pgs. 130-131).
To be clear, this book is not merely an introduction to the thought of the church fathers. It is an introduction with a purpose: Flame is clear about his intent to establish the historicity of Lutheran sacramental theology in contrast to the novelty of doctrines in the traditions to which he formerly belonged. Like Flame, I have spent considerable time among Reformed and Reformed Baptist Christians. (The latter are sometimes called Particular Baptists.) At times, his descriptions matched my own experience, and at others, our experiences seemed worlds apart. That is not surprising given the variety within those movements. But without question, the theology of reformers like Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin deviated from Luther’s on baptism and the Eucharist.
I know of one rapper turned theologian. I know of no theologians turned rappers.
Flame stresses that “God Himself is present in the sacramental elements supernaturally, mystically, with the sole purpose of delivering Himself to us. The Word in the most personal form. The ultimate gift, supplying us with everything we could ever truly need in this body-and-soul existence” (pg. 133). A failure to acknowledge this has led to a decreasing focus on the sacraments in some traditions.
“My premise is that the overthrowing of the Sacraments left a void in the church. The natural space in our hearts or in our Christian experience to connect with God through His ordained means and to unite with something bigger than ourselves was left empty. Nevertheless, we continued to have unfed appetites for a supernatural encounter with our Creator. Since the Sacraments were stripped of their relevance in our everyday understanding of the faith, in our joys and sufferings, we then sought to have that void filled by other things like high church attendance and church growth programs, misuses of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, down to borrowing from Eastern religions” (pg. 171).
Because Jesus Taught It is unlike any other theological book I have read: part examination of the church fathers, part defense of Lutheranism, and part memoir, with occasional rap lyrics and Facebook posts. At times, this mix worked perfectly for me, and at times it seemed a little heavily weighted in one direction. After all, the author is attempting to pull off a challenging act. I know of one rapper turned theologian. I know of no theologians turned rappers.
That is the uniqueness of Flame. He brings something different to the table—something very interesting. I read many theology books that could be written by any number of scholars the same way. I do not think anyone but Flame could have produced a book just like this, and I was happy to go on the ride with him. His communication style can connect with people who would not read a more dry, academic work.
This is Flame’s story. He testifies to what he has seen: no more and no less.
This book does not attempt to provide a full and final defense of the Lutheran positions on the sacraments, even though much of it is devoted to them. It does not address every possible objection or engage with every possible source. (Could such a book be in the author’s future? I would welcome it.) But to see these as flaws is to miss the point. They are not the purpose of this book.
This is Flame’s story. He testifies to what he has seen: no more and no less. He invites others to join him at the table and feast on the treasures of two thousand years of Christian history. In that spirit, I find this book to be a worthy edition to the field of Lutheran theology, and I hope to see more books from Flame in the future.
