Masters of Arts Degrees from the Institute of Lutheran Theology

Readers of this blog know about the Institute of Lutheran Theology, its theological commitments, and its STM and M. Div. programs.   Readers may have missed, however, our recent announcement of three new Master of Arts programs, one in Biblical Studies, one in Theology and another in Religion.   Please indulge me as I briefly address these new ILT programs.

All three degree programs are designed for those students already having a B. A. or B. S. who want to study classical theology and seek a real intellectual challenge.   The degrees are profitably pursued by those wanting a M. A. to bolster their present teaching position, for those church leaders seeking more education, and for those intellectually curious who realize that the attainment of  knowledge is itself an intrinsic end.   All three are non-thesis degrees requiring the successful completion of 33 hours of graduate credit.

The Masters of Arts in Biblical Studies (MABS) offers the following curriculum:


Required Courses:  Total Credits = 33
Core Courses (9 Credits)

• BT299: Introduction to Greek (0 cr.)
• BT 300: New Testament Greek (3 cr.)
• BT 310: Biblical Hebrew (3 cr.)
• BT 301: Lutheran Biblical Interp. (3 cr.)

Exegetical Courses (24 Credits)

Old Testament (12 Credits)

• BT 401: The Pentateuch & Writings (3 cr.)
• BT 402: Wisdom & The Prophets (3 cr.)
• BT 490: Topics in Old Testament (6 cr.)

New Testament (12 Credits)

• BT 450: The Gospels (3 cr.)
• BT 451: Paul & His Legacy (3 cr.)
• BT 452: Epistles & Formation of the New Testament (3 cr.)
• BT 491: Topics in New Testament (6 cr.)

The Masters of Arts in Theology (MAT) lists the following requirements:


Program Requirements: Total Credits = 33

• BT 301: Lutheran Biblical Interpretation (3 Credits)
• EPR 301: Faith, Knowledge, and Reason (3 Credits)
• EPR: 302: God, Logic, & Semantics (3 Credits)
• HST 301: History of Christian Thought I: Origins to 1500 (3 Credits)
• HST 302: History of Christian Thought II: The Reformation (3 Credits)
• HST 303: History of Christian Thought III: 1700-1900 (3 Credits)
• HST 304: Twentieth Century Theology (3 Credits)
• HST 351: The Lutheran Confessions in Context (3 Credits)
• HST 401: Creation & The Triune God (3 Credits)
• HST 402: Christology (3 Credits)
• HST 403: Church, Spirit, & The Two Kingdoms (3 Credits)

Finally, the Masters of Arts in Religion (MAR) offers this curriculum: 

Program Requirements:  Total Credits = 33

• BT 301: Lutheran Biblical Interpretation (3 Credits)
• EPR 301: Faith, Knowledge, and Reason (3 Credits)

6 credits in Biblical Studies: (courses with a BT prefix)

6 credits in Church History: (HST 301-304, 310, 350, 351)

6 credits in Theology, Ethics, or Philosophy of Religion: (HST 401-3, 450 courses with an EPR prefix)

9 credits in one of the three areas of specialization:

• Biblical Studies
• Theology and Church History
• Ethics & Philosophy of Religion

All courses are delivered in real-time using video-streaming technology that allows students to see and interact with the professor and with each other.   ILT permanent teaching faculty include Dr. Robert Benne, Dr. Dennis Bielfeldt, Dr. Mark Hillmer, Dr. Paul Hinlicky, Rev. Timothy Rynearson, and Dr. Jonathan Sorum.  Please check the Institute of Lutheran Theology website for more details on our programs!    

Acting in Conformity with the Law versus Acting From or Because of the Law

When Lutherans come to think about God's Law, they sometimes think and say some rather confusing things.   Oftentimes this confusion reigns because they don't properly distinguish from among the nature of law, its motivation and its effects.    

Properly speaking, the law is that which ought to be the case, as it is commanded and enforced by a proper authority: God.  While the law is not a description of what actually happens, it is the real reality of what should happen: That which ought to be is as that which ought to be.  Accordingly, Lutherans should be nomological realists; they should hold that the  law is something objectively present outside of human awareness, perception, conception and language.  Thinking of such a law is, however, prone to abstraction.

Over the last centuries, Lutherans have been busy trying to follow Luther's lead in not thinking about the law abstractly, but rather considering it concretely.  Accordingly, the law is not simply an eternal set of prescriptions, but is itself a power.  The law, in fact, accuses.  It kills.

But the question arises: In what sense can the law accuse and kill?   Even asking this question seems misguided to Lutheran insiders.   How could a Lutheran theologian seriously suggest that he knows not the sense in which the law accuses and kills?   Does he not get even the basics of Lutheran theology?

Seemingly straightforward questions that somehow get asked anyway generally suggest that there has been some adjustment in the underlying set of assumptions or paradigm.   If one starts with the reality of human existence and the human Urerlebnis of being held fully responsible for not being able to do what one ought (Elert), then indeed asking in what sense the law accuses and kills is like asking in what sense water is wet.   However, if one is serious about theological realism, then things change a bit.  The law gains an ontological vitality not entailed by its phenomenological contour.   Now the law is because God is.  The law becomes an expression of what God is in and through creation.   A divine nomological ontology now sharply distinguishes the law in se from its effects pro nobis, and from our own motivations to do the law.

Kant famously distinguished acting because of or from duty from merely acting in accordance with duty.  For Kant, the motivation for doing an action is what is at issue morally.  I can save the old lady about to be hit by the truck for a number of reasons, some quite selfish or misguided.   (Maybe I don't like to see the hoods of trucks dented or dirtied.)   To act solely on the basis that saving her is the right thing to do is to act morally for the right reason.   (Kant used the example of the shopkeeper who acted merely in accordance with duty - - and not from duty - - in not duping his customer because the shopkeeper wants to build a good reputation and a better business.)

The distinction between acting in accordance with a rule or acting from, because or due to a rule is helpful, I think, in getting clear on how the law accuses and kills.

God wills x but Bob cannot seemingly or easily do x.   This willing of x by God is real: it exists apart from human awareness, perception, conception and language.   Now Bob can live "according to the law" by so acting with respect to x because of, from or due to x.  Such life under the law is itself a fundamental existential response to the reality of the law.   One can attempt to be moral and do what it is that one ought to do out of  proper motivation: One acts solely because this action is commanded by God.   While acting from the law is good for Kant, it is bad for Luther (and all of us generally) because to act because of the law is to prioritize, reify, and focus upon the fact of x.  Such prioritizing, reifying and focusing upon x can only push one further away from the author of x.

Fortunately, what is bad of Kant is good for Luther (and all of us generally).   While to act merely in accordance with duty is, for Kant, not really to be acting in a morally manifest way - -though he clearly says that such acting can be wholly appropriate - - acting in accordance with the law can be for Christians a highly laudable state.   (One should act so that one's right-hand does not know what one's left-hand is doing.)  Grace is eschewing a life lived "according to the law" so that one can "act in accordance with the law" and not due to the law.  Acting merely in accordance with the law is what grace accomplishes.   The law is taken up, not abolished.   What is abolished is acting from the law; what remains is acting in accordance with the law from proper inclination (spontaneous thankfulness) and not from the demands of the law itself.   Such an acting is neither accusatory nor nefarious; it simply is on the basis of He who is.

If we keep with the central story of Christianity - - there is a God and this God has a definite intentionality for His creation - - then the Lutheran focus on Law and Gospel is properly understood as a pertaining not primarily to the order of things, but mainly to the order of the human heart with respect to things.  (I am not wholly denying here that nature is out of conformity with the law under the conditions of the Fall, but simply not thematizing it here.)   Is the primal ought manifest to human beings as accusation or gift?   Is it finally that which kills or that which makes alive?   It all goes back to the motivation of the human heart, and with respect to the importance of motivation Kant was fully in accord with Luther.  What is different is the nature of motivation.   Luther knew what Paul proclaimed:  To act due to the law was to live according to the flesh.   But to be gifted to act freely merely in accordance with the law is the most blessed life available to all; it is to live in the dynamics of the Spirit.

Why Meaning Matters

A number of years ago when the MacNiel/Lehrer Report still appeared on PBS, there was an economist who answered a particular question using some of the technical language of his discipline.   The response from the other guest was instructive.   Listening to what the economist had offered, he remonstrated, "Why, that's just theological."  

The economist had clearly taken a heavy hit.  Calling his language theological in that context was to suggest a number of things:  1) His language was not clear, 2) His language was ambiguous, 3) His language made only dubious claims to truth, 4) His language was needlessly complex, 5) His language was useless. 

I have from the beginning of my time in theology sought a particular precision.  The reason for this is simply that very early on I learned how captivating theological language could be.   It seemed to me that one could enter another world by using such language.   When I was young it was great fun to read theology, to envision new possibilities, and to address theological problems.   But something happened to me on my way to a Ph. D.   

I began to realize that everything I was thinking when I was thinking theologically was comprised of propositions comprised of terms and predications of identity and attribution.  I began to think that if what I was thinking was to be true, I must get very clear on what it was precisely that I was thinking so I knew what it precisely was that was to be true.   This meant that I must analyze the language of my theological thinking to see what precisely it meant.  

But when I began to explore what it is precisely that theological language meant, I ran up against a host of problems.  Though I could use theological language correctly, - - I could use it in such ways that fit the linguistic situation (one might say, I could satisfy the appropriate stimulus/response conditionals theologically) - - I did not know exactly how my theological language related to other kinds of discourse.   When talking to people who did not know how to employ theological language like I thought I then did, I started to realize that I did not always know how to translate what I was saying theologically into types of language that they grasped, language that related to the world in which both they and I lived.  In this way, I began to worry about what precise claims I was making theologically and whether there was evidence to support those claims I was making.  

Long ago I concluded that the more one likely agonizes over what precisely one means when doing theology, the less theology one is likely to do.  Wonderful, learned and deeply evocative theology can be written without one knowing precisely what one means in the writing.  This is, of course, to a degree true of all disciplines.   Does one know the precise identity conditions of each term one uses in fundamental particle physics?   While the answer to this is perhaps, "no," there is a difference.   One has a public, objective semantic yardstick in fundamental particle physics that one does not possess in theology.   This is why one can look up the precise meaning of a term in the first context but not the second.   In theology, the meaning of terms and phrases depends deeply on who is employing them.  In theology it is fundamentally meaning  that matters.

The Institute of Lutheran Theology believes that it is critically important to grasp the semantic question in theology.   We in the developed countries of the West live at a time in which great numbers of people are abandoing the use of theological language.   The reason, in my opinion, is that far too many now think the language is not clear and unambiguous, that it makes dubious claims, and that is is complex and useless. For many people, in fact, the clearer the language becomes - - I am thinking now of some expressions of Evangelical theology - - the less likely many think it is to be true, and the more likely it is to be true, the less clear they believe it is.   Somehow in theology, meaning and truth, the twin pillars of semantics, have become inversely proportional.  

I have been posting this week about the Institute of Lutheran Theology.   At ILT we are serious about studying theology seriously.   This means, among other things, that not only God and his work in Jesus Christ is at issue for us, but also the meaning of God working in Jesus Christ.  The reason meaning matters is that it is necessary for truth, and when the truth at issue is the Truth, then the meaning that matters is that which really matters.