Author: Andrea Schultz

Now faith is the assurance of the things hoped, the conviction of things not seen.
Hebrews 11:1

On March 12, President Rast chose, with the input of the Seminary’s leadership team, to move to online delivery of education for the beginning of the spring quarter. “As the weeks are turning into months, I can tell you that I have never made a more difficult or disappointing decision,” said the Rev. Dr. Lawrence R. Rast Jr. on April 30, in his sermon at the combined 2020 Vicarage and Deaconess Intern and Placement and 2020 Call Service at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne (CTSFW). “Our congregations have, in many cases, not been able to meet, or have done so under the most difficult circumstances. We grow impatient to be together, and understandably so, for it is toward evening and the day is almost over.”

And yet he also could, and with joy, open the service with this familiar greeting: “Alleluia! Christ is risen. He is risen indeed, Alleluia.”

The story of the Seminary’s perhaps most unique Call Night—the pews empty, the entire congregation, save for five faculty members conducting the service in Kramer Chapel, online—is one that can be told best in their own words. “Things have changed dramatically over the past several weeks for all of us—that is certainly evident in the empty pews that are in this chapel,” Dr. Rast continued in his opening greeting. “Yet even now, as we prepare to send out new vicars, deaconess interns and candidates, and pastors, much is the same.”

Thousands in the Church joined the service from the world over, from all 50 states alongside our brothers and sisters in Christ across six continents. This year’s 40 pastoral candidates watched the service on a combined Zoom Meeting, which was shown at times throughout the Vespers service.

In his sermon, Dr. Rast preached on the Emmaus passage from Luke 24:13-35. From verse 21:

“We had hoped.” The finality of the disciples’ words is overwhelming. All they had worked for, hoped for, prepared for over the course of a number of years was now ended, finished. Their hopes were wrecked, their dreams unrealized, their expectations dashed…

Yet as they trudge along, they are joined by an unrecognized companion who engages them in what may be the most ironic conversation recorded in all of the Scriptures. Ironic because we know who He is and what the outcome will be. But our downcast disciples are kept from recognizing their friend…But why? Why could they not recognize him? And the answer is simply this: so Jesus could reveal himself to them in the midst of their human weakness and within the context of their profound challenges, as He always does through the Scriptures and the breaking of the bread…

We [too] had hoped. We—students, families, congregations, staff, faculty—we are the disappointed disciples this evening. This sanctuary was supposed to be full; full of pastoral and deaconess candidates, vicars and interns, their family, friends, all expectantly waiting for news of pastoral calls, deaconess placements, vicarage assignments, deaconess internships. There is no noisier place on this campus than this chapel before Call Service every year. Tonight, it is silent. Yes, there’s a skeleton crew (I use the language intentionally), who sends this service out to a scattered community that is still largely sheltering in place, but it is not what we hoped for.

Our feet drag as we plod through a quarter unlike any in the nearly 175 year history of this school. We trudged into this virtual call service that lacks the fulfillment only a gathered community can provide. Where previously there had been hopeful anticipation, now there is disappointment. “And they stood still, looking sad.” That could be us.

But it cannot be us. Because we have hope. We hope because we know and believe the outcome of Jesus’ story. We know that Christ is risen: he is risen indeed! Alleluia. Tonight is different, no doubt. There has never been a call night, vicarage assignment, deaconess placement and internship service like this. We expected something quite different. We had hoped we could do things the way we had traditionally done them. But no. Still, tonight is no different than those other nights in this most important respect: for 174 years, Christ has called men to pastoral service in his name; he will do so again in mere moments. Christ has formed servants for service in his name and diaconal positions. He continues to do so. Christ continues to form servants through vicarages and internships. This very night the work of Christ continues. He is faithful.

The Rev. Dr. Gary W. Zieroth, Director of Vicarage, announced vicarages for 34 Master of Divinity (MDiv) students and one Alternate Route student. “Dear brothers in Christ,” he began, “As you hear your names called, remember the words from Deuteronomy 31:6: ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you. He will never leave you or forsake you.’”

Four deaconess internships were announced, as were two deaconess placements. In his introduction before their distribution, the Rev. Dr. James G. Bushur, Director of Deaconess Studies, explained the role of deaconesses in the Church:

The Gospel of divine mercy does not begin with God speaking, but with His hearing. Mercy begins when He hears the blood of Abel crying out from the dirt; when He hears the desperate pleas of His children in Egyptian bondage; when He hears the groans of Jonah from the belly of the fish. Indeed, dear friends, the joy that is ours this Easter season is found in the intercessory blood of Jesus, which speaks better things than that of Abel. Indeed, it is this blood that even now continues to speak before the father ever moving Him toward mercy.

And so it is for this reason that we count it a great blessing on this campus to participate in the formation of both pastors and deaconesses. If pastors are called to speak, deaconesses are formed to hear, to be—shall we say—the ears of God. The deaconess vocation is about perceiving the need of our neighbor, and in responding to those needs with the salutary fellowship of Christ’s body the Church. And so deaconesses serve so that the cries of the aborted and the abused, the afflicted, the hungry, the lonely, the oppressed, and the sick are heard by the Church, a hearing which then comes before our heavenly Father and invites His mercy. How profound the need for this vocation is in our day.

The Rev. Dr. Jeffrey H. Pulse finished the night’s distributions with the announcement of 40 pastoral calls. “So where does one begin?” he asked. “I spent considerable time, which I seem to have a bit of right now, trying to sort out the beginning of this address. ‘It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.’ Already been done. ‘These are extraordinary times we find ourselves in.’ Already been overdone. ‘Even though we cannot be together, in fact, we are always united in spirit.’ Blah, blah blah…

The most important realities have not changed at all. The Church still needs workers in the harvest field. The congregations still need pastors to carry out Word and Sacrament ministry. The Seminary still needs to get rid of you so we can bring in another class. And because these things do not—have not—changed, I have good news for our Church Body, good news for your Seminary, and really good news for all of you: all 40 students who are ready to be placed are receiving a call this evening…

This year, there are 36 MDiv candidates and four Alternate Route candidates from our Seminary for a total of 40, and 52 MDiv candidates and four Alternate Route candidates from our sister seminary in St. Louis. Combine this with SMP, CHS, CMCEIIT—those students—then we have a total of 103 candidates: 96 MDiv and Alternate Route. There were 129 calls available for us and 100 calls extended, as well as one for a colloquy candidate. That leaves 28 calls available and not used. This is actually a few more than last year, so the need for pastors continues. We would ask for your prayers, of course, for those congregations not receiving a candidate at this time.

As always, the announcements of the pastoral calls ended with the Charge to the Candidates for the Holy Ministry. These 40 men rose from where they were sheltering in place, standing in apartments and houses and churches across the nation. “Go then, take heed unto thyself and to all the flock over which the Holy Ghost hath made thee overseer,” Dr. Rast began the charge, finishing with, “The Lord bless thee from on high, and make thee a blessing unto many, that thou mayest bring forth fruit and that thy fruit may remain unto eternal life. Amen.”

The answering, “Amens!” were scattered by the technological challenges of syncing 40 voices separated by distance, but spoken in the same truth and promise as those in every generation of pastors in the 173 years before them. Thanks be to God!

To re-watch the service, view the map for where these 81 men and women are headed, and to access the pdf lists for the 2020 Vicarage Placements, Deaconess Internships, Pastoral Calls, and Deaconess Placements, go to https://callday.ctsfw.edu.

By Jason L. Iwen, Assistant to the Chief Information Officer at CTSFW and Second-Year MDiv Student; he was in Kramer Chapel on Call Night to help with recording directions for the faculty and kantors.

Peter Scaer said that an empty chapel is hard on the eyes. A silent chapel is just as hard on the ears.

If you’ve ever been in Kramer Chapel on call night, you know that it is anything but silent before the service begins. The room is filled with energy as old friends greet one another. Family members discuss the possibility of being placed near a beach or mountains. Professors joke with them that they will instead end up in rural Nebraska or the frozen tundra of North Dakota. Laughter and joy-filled conversation—this is what Kramer Chapel is supposed to sound like before the call service begins. This year, however, was much different. This year, silence is what surrounded the eight of us who were physically in Kramer Chapel for the service. The difference between this night and all previous call nights was striking.

In the chancel: Dr. Grime lights the candles. He does so in silence.

In the pulpit: Dr. Rast stands awaiting my cue to begin his words of introduction and welcome. He stands in silence.

In the aisle near the baptismal font: Dr. Bushur (who is holding the crucifix), Dr. Pulse, and Dr. Zieroth all wait for the appointed time to begin the procession. They stand in silence.

In the choir loft: Kantor Hildebrand sits at the organ console, and Kantor Machemer stands ready for the service to begin. They, too, wait in silence.

Certainly, there are brief conversations as the appointed time approaches. Mostly, though, it is the silence that crowds my memory—because silence is not what should be filling Kramer Chapel on this night.

We finally get a reprieve from the silence. The clock strikes seven, and the service begins with Dr. Rast’s opening remarks, followed by the processional hymn. Those of us in the chapel are able to hear the hymn, even though it isn’t happening live in that space. And the room is filled once again with the glorious sounds of music made by the saints of God. I close my eyes and envision the room full of people, as we all had hoped it would be on this night.

To be sure, many of the other parts of the service do not fill the chapel with the sound we are all accustomed to hearing. But at least it isn’t silent. The Word of God is proclaimed through the reading of Scripture and through Dr. Rast’s wonderful sermon. It is also proclaimed in song, and the music is wonderful to my ears—even when it is not happening live in the chapel. When the hearts of all God’s faithful children from around the entire country – indeed, the entire world – join together with those of us praying in the chapel, those prayers rise as incense before God, and we know that He hears them.

During all of these portions of the service, the silence is gone, and Kramer Chapel sounds a little bit like it should on call night.

When the reading of names and placements commences, however, the silence returns. Each time a name is read, it is followed by silence. I know that the reason for this silence is to allow time for those viewing the service from home to see the person who has just been named, and where they are being sent. Not having that visual, though, I am only able to see the silence. As the announcements continue from vicarages – to deaconess internships – to deaconess placements – to candidate calls, the silence intensifies and becomes almost deafening. It intensifies to the point that I can almost touch it.

There is a part of me that wishes that I had been able to see the video of this service as it was happening. But I know that I was where I needed to be for this event. Making this service a reality took a team of people—each of us in a different role and all of us doing our very best to make it the best that it could possibly be. We had many reasons to set the bar so high. We wanted this to be a special service for all those men and women receiving placements, and for their families. We wanted this to be a special service for the congregations receiving vicars, deaconess interns and deaconesses, and pastors. Above all, we wanted God to be glorified in this service. I believe He blessed those efforts, and I feel truly privileged and blessed to have been a part of it!

I have now seen the video of the service. The visual difference in the full procession of all previous years fading into the minimal 2020 procession is striking. As Dr. Scaer said, an empty chapel is hard on the eyes. Being inside the chapel, the difference in sound was just as striking. A silent Kramer Chapel is hard on the ears.

Some reflections from Dr. Peter J. Scaer, Professor and Chairman of Exegetical Theology here at CTSFW, on Call Day and Night (pulled, with permission, from his personal Facebook page):

I can tell you where history ends, and so can the men of Concordia Theological Seminary. Tonight, we celebrate call night, as our men find out the fields in which they will labor and sow the gospel seeds. To be sure, this night is historic, in that the service will be online. The technological revolution in service of a message that turns the world upside down.