Reformation Sunday
Bob Wickizer
Jeremiah 31:31-34
A Conversation with Martin
Tuesday, I received an enigmatic email. It read ''Please pick me up at the Tulsa airport Thursday at 2 pm,'' signed ''M. Luther.'' I didn't know whether I was going to pick up a burley, bald black man who preached nonviolent resistance and sparked the Civil Rights movement or thirty something year old, German, early Renaissance reformer of the church. When I arrived at the curb, there he was dressed in a plain black, Augustinian habit complete with his monastic tonsure and signature slender bent nose. Since it is close to Halloween, Martin Luther and I could tour the area incognito as it were. Most folks would think we were dressed for a costume party. So much so good.
Martin Luther was never ordained as a priest. He held a doctorate in Biblical studies and was a member of the Augustinian order of monks. As he threw his bag in the car and got in the front seat, I asked him, ''Shall I call you 'doctor,' ''mister' or just 'Martin'''? ''Martin will be just fine'' he said. ''In my book, the less fuss, the better.''
As we set off in the car, I peppered him with questions. ''Why are you here? Why now? Why me?'' Martin told me to relax; that after almost 500 years he wanted to see how the work he began had progressed. He was eager to visit the giant megachurches. He wanted to visit the inner city black gospel churches that Bonhoeffer loved so much. He wanted to see what kind of difference his life had made. While he believed in his lifetime that the pope was the anti-Christ, he wanted to see how the Catholic Church had changed, if at all.
In the blink of an eye we found ourselves in South Barrington Illinois where a gigantic church campus parking lot was filling up with buses and cars full of kids eagerly waiting to be dropped off for Sunday school. ''How did you do this?'' I asked. ''Is today Sunday?'' Martin winked and said, ''Let's go in.''
Entering the auditorium, my chest ...
Bob Wickizer
Jeremiah 31:31-34
A Conversation with Martin
Tuesday, I received an enigmatic email. It read ''Please pick me up at the Tulsa airport Thursday at 2 pm,'' signed ''M. Luther.'' I didn't know whether I was going to pick up a burley, bald black man who preached nonviolent resistance and sparked the Civil Rights movement or thirty something year old, German, early Renaissance reformer of the church. When I arrived at the curb, there he was dressed in a plain black, Augustinian habit complete with his monastic tonsure and signature slender bent nose. Since it is close to Halloween, Martin Luther and I could tour the area incognito as it were. Most folks would think we were dressed for a costume party. So much so good.
Martin Luther was never ordained as a priest. He held a doctorate in Biblical studies and was a member of the Augustinian order of monks. As he threw his bag in the car and got in the front seat, I asked him, ''Shall I call you 'doctor,' ''mister' or just 'Martin'''? ''Martin will be just fine'' he said. ''In my book, the less fuss, the better.''
As we set off in the car, I peppered him with questions. ''Why are you here? Why now? Why me?'' Martin told me to relax; that after almost 500 years he wanted to see how the work he began had progressed. He was eager to visit the giant megachurches. He wanted to visit the inner city black gospel churches that Bonhoeffer loved so much. He wanted to see what kind of difference his life had made. While he believed in his lifetime that the pope was the anti-Christ, he wanted to see how the Catholic Church had changed, if at all.
In the blink of an eye we found ourselves in South Barrington Illinois where a gigantic church campus parking lot was filling up with buses and cars full of kids eagerly waiting to be dropped off for Sunday school. ''How did you do this?'' I asked. ''Is today Sunday?'' Martin winked and said, ''Let's go in.''
Entering the auditorium, my chest ...
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