The Curious Case of Pastoral Formation: What Are We Trying to Preserve?

A few weeks ago I wrote a blog and asked a dumb question: If we have a pastor shortage, why do we seem to be making pastoral formation more restrictive rather than more accessible?

The responses were enlightening. Some agreed. Some strongly disagreed. A few politely informed me that I didn't know what I was talking about. That’s okay; I probably don’t, hence the questions! 

All of which brings me to another dumb question, so please forgive me.

Over the past few weeks, I've been following conversations about pastoral formation, colloquy, and alternative pathways into ministry. Along the way, I learned something I didn't know before. The LCMS has a pathway for pastors from other church bodies to enter our fellowship through colloquy, but denies men from within our own synod. In fact, I recently learned of a pastor whose educational journey included Luther House of Study and who was ultimately received Ordination into the LCMS through that process this past October. If you aren’t following The LCMS Current, you should, and in case you missed it, I’ve attached the receipts below!

To be clear, this isn't a criticism of colloquy. I thank God for it. The church has been strengthened by many faithful pastors who came to embrace LCMS doctrine and were received onto our roster. Colloquy exists for a reason, and I am grateful that it does.

What I am struggling to understand is something else. Why do we seem to have more room for pastors formed outside our fellowship than for men formed inside it?

A pastor coming from another denomination does not arrive as a theological blank slate. None of us do. Years of formation shape how we read Scripture, understand ministry, preach, teach, and think about the church. That's true whether someone comes from another Lutheran body, an evangelical background, or any other tradition altogether. Yet we rightly believe such men can be examined, further formed, mentored, and received into the LCMS.

So why do we often seem less willing to extend that same confidence to faithful men who have spent their entire lives in LCMS congregations? Men who have been catechized in our doctrine. Men who have served in our churches. Men who are already being mentored by LCMS pastors. Men who are studying theology under the supervision of LCMS leaders. Men who love the Lutheran Confessions and want nothing more than to serve Christ's Church.

This past Saturday, I attended a pastoral formation listening session with the presidents of both LCMS seminaries. I went hoping to hear answers. What I found instead was a deeper appreciation for the concerns being expressed by those tasked with preparing future pastors.

To their credit, neither seminary president dismissed alternative routes into ministry. Both spoke positively about SMP and other non-residential pathways. Both acknowledged the reality of the pastor shortage. Both expressed genuine concern for congregations struggling to find pastors. Both made it clear that they are investing significant time and energy into recruiting and preparing more men for ministry.

More importantly, I came away hoping that their concerns are not primarily about preserving institutions. They are concerned about preserving something they believe is vital to the church: rigorous theological formation, doctrinal unity, pastoral resilience, and long-term faithfulness in ministry. They spoke repeatedly about preparing men who can faithfully preach Christ, administer the Sacraments, and endure in ministry for the long haul.

I respect those concerns, and in many ways I share them. I want faithful pastors. I want doctrinal fidelity. I want men who are prepared to preach Christ crucified, administer the Sacraments faithfully, and care for souls for decades. After listening for three hours, however, I found myself returning to the same question.

Do those goals require the restrictions we are currently placing on certain pathways into ministry?

That is where I still struggle.

Because many of the men asking these questions are not seeking shortcuts, lower standards, or bypassing theological education altogether. They are asking whether the church can recognize, examine, and further form men who have already spent years being catechized, mentored, and formed within the LCMS.

One exchange during the listening session especially caught my attention. When I asked about men from within the LCMS who complete programs such as Luther House of Study, the answer I received was essentially that colloquy was never designed for LCMS members. It was created as a pathway for pastors from outside the Synod who later come to embrace Lutheran doctrine and desire to join our fellowship.

That answer certainly explains the current policy.

What I am less certain it explains is the distinction itself.

If a pastor from another denomination can be examined, evaluated, and received into the LCMS despite years of formation elsewhere, why can’t a man who has spent his life in LCMS congregations, under LCMS pastors, being catechized in LCMS doctrine, not be similarly evaluated on his own merits as well?

Perhaps there are good reasons for that distinction. If there are, I'd genuinely like to hear them. I asked, but that question was not answered. Instead, I again was told about current policies and my question was dismissed.

Perhaps the issue is doctrine. But if that's the case, shouldn't years, or even decades, of LCMS formation count for something?

Perhaps the issue is mentorship. Yet many of these men are being mentored by LCMS pastors and faculty.

Perhaps the issue is quality control. But quality control and multiple pathways are not mutually exclusive.

Which leads me to wonder whether we sometimes spend so much time defending a particular model of pastoral formation that we fail to ask whether that model is the only way to achieve the outcomes we all desire.

If the goal is doctrinal fidelity, pastoral competence, and faithful service to Christ's Church, then perhaps the question is not simply which pathway a man traveled, but whether that pathway produced those outcomes. That seems to be the question many congregations are asking as vacancies continue to grow and more churches wonder where their future pastors will come from.

The listening session also revealed something encouraging. Nearly everyone in the room agreed on the most important things. We want faithful pastors. We want strong theological formation. We want congregations served. We want the Gospel preached and the Sacraments administered faithfully. No one was arguing against those goals. In fact, much of the conversation centered on how best to achieve them.

The disagreement is not over those goals. The disagreement is over how best to accomplish them. That seems like a conversation worth continuing.

Because asking hard questions is not a threat to the church. Refusing to ask them might be.

In fact, asking hard questions is part of our Lutheran heritage. The Reformation did not begin because Luther hated the Church. It began because he loved the Church enough to ask whether some of its practices were serving the Gospel and the care of souls. His goal was never destruction. His goal was clarity, faithfulness, and ensuring that people heard the saving message of Christ clearly and without unnecessary barriers.

That does not mean every question is right. It does not mean every criticism is justified. But it does mean that faithful Christians should never be afraid of honest examination. If our current approach to pastoral formation is serving the church well, then those answers should withstand scrutiny. And if there are places where improvement is needed, then asking the question may be one of the first steps toward strengthening the church for future generations.

At the end of the day, I am not asking these questions because I want fewer seminaries, lower standards, or weaker pastors. I am asking because I want more faithful pastors preaching Christ crucified to more people.

And that seems like a question worth asking.

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Questions Worth Asking About Pastoral Formation and Public Accountability

A recent video featuring Rev. Dr. Jon Bruss, President of Concordia Theological Seminary Fort Wayne on pastoral formation has raised questions across the synod about alternative formation pathways — specifically, Luther House of Study (LHOS).

In the video, shortened here, Dr. Bruss characterizes LHOS as using Missouri Synod theology as a "foil" — presenting LCMS doctrine in order to argue against it. He also suggests that students in such programs are being formed by non-LCMS pastors and implies that the LCMS would not colloquize their graduates.

Several questions deserve honest engagement.

First, multiple LCMS students who have completed the LHOS program report a very different experience from what Dr. Bruss describes. The program pairs each student with both an LCMS faculty mentor and an LCMS-ordained ministry mentor from their own congregation, and a personal mentor — a structure that closely mirrors the three-pastor formation model Dr. Bruss himself advocates for in the same presentation.

Second, it has been confirmed that at least one LHOS graduate — Connor Longapie — was colloquized through the LCMS Pastoral Colloquy Program in  October 2025. If colloquy is possible for some graduates of this program, the question of why it is not being offered to others deserves a clear and transparent answer. An email requesting clarification was sent to Dr. Bruss, but no response has been received yet. See Connor Longapie's colloquy notice HERE and his ordination notice on page 41 HERE.

Third, when Dr. Crogan, Chief Academic Officer of Luther House of Study, was asked whether Dr. Bruss had contacted him to discuss the concerns raised in the video, he confirmed that contact had occurred — but that the concerns about LHOS's theological posture were never raised. The only objection offered was that the curriculum is online.

None of this is to say that the conversation about pastoral formation is simple. It isn't. The

LCMS faces a genuine clergy shortage, and reasonable people can disagree about the best path forward. But public characterizations of an institution — especially ones that question its theological integrity — carry real weight. They shape how congregations, students, and families make decisions. 

If those characterizations are incomplete or inaccurate, that also matters. These are questions worth asking — openly, charitably, and with the transparency this conversation deserves.