Lutherans

Last week the Rev. Walter Arthur Maier, the "Chrysostom of American Lutheranism," /- inaugurated "the biggest religious event of the year." In Chicago's Stadium the radio pulpiteer opened the eleventh season of the Lutheran Hour ("Bringing Christ to the Nations").

The stadium was jampacked with 25,000 persons. Concessions were closed, so there were no cries of "Hot Dog!" or "Popcorn!" Neither did the milling crowds light cigarets or cigars until the service was over. They heard sacred music on the stadium organ, listened to scripture reading, recited the Apostolic Creed, pledged allegiance to the flag, roared Luther's battle hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, put $15,260 into the collection, heard Indiana's Lutheran Governor Henry F. Schricker talk about the church in the postwar world, and, best of all, saw and heard Dr. Maier's initial broadcast of the current Lutheran Hour.

On Your Knees! Gravely the minister summoned his listeners to repentance. Freedom from want and fear is "cruel delusion." What mankind needs is penitence. Cried he: "After a year and ten months of the deadliest war this country has ever fought, we in the United States still have had no day of national humiliation before the Almighty. We have observed days of prayer, but this country has not yet been on its knees before God, confessing our faults and faithlessness."

For dynamic, hearty Dr. Maier the Lutheran Hour is a personal triumph. He started on two stations, now has 224 over the Mutual network. In addition, transcriptions swell the list to some 450 stations in 26 countries. The Lutheran Laymen's League sponsors the Hour, pays for the time. Last year's time cost $254,638.15.

Make It a Habit. Almost all the Hour's 12,000,000 U.S. listeners take literally the League's injunction: "Make it a regular habit to send in a donation to the LUTHERAN HOUR! The need is great and the benefits are equally great. $1 sends Christ's word to 1,500 persons." Some send coins, most send bills, and now & then someone sends a substantial check. Recently soldiers in the Aleutians took up two collections, sent $275 "in appreciation" of the Hour. Last month a Michigan farmer wrote Dr. Maier ("Dearly beloved servant of Christ"), praised the Hour in Biblical sentences, enclosed check for $1,000 with the request "Please don't mention my name."

Letters flow in from all parts of the world. Last year Dr. Maier got 300,000. Sometimes they come in at the rate of 17,000 a week, 5,000 a day. At the Hour's St. Louis headquarters, 55 stenographers and clerks send out replies which Dr. Maier signs. Many a letter requests spiritual help. To such people Dr. Maier dictates a personal answer which is inserted in the form letter. Recent letter from the Dominican Republic: "I am Chinese by birth. I am Buddhist by religion. I want you to show me the way to Christ."

No Use For Sawdust. To Boston-born Dr. Maier, who was 50 last week, the way to Christ is through the Bible. He is a Fundamentalist and glories in the name: "I don't quote Scripture with my fingers crossed." He has no use for "sawdust" sermons, bases his own on "the Word of God, the divinely and literally inspired record of our Heavenly Father for the guidance, instruction, and salvation of His children." Vast numbers of Bible-loving people, both Protestant and Catholic, write to thank him for stressing his Bible message.

With his mother, wife and two sons, Dr. Maier lives on the campus of St. Louis' Concordia Seminary, a Lutheran stronghold and one of the largest Protestant seminaries in the U.S. He teaches two courses in Old Testament at Concordia. He also edits the Walther League Messenger (circulation: over 50,000) for Lutheran young folk, signs his three monthly editorials "W.A.M." His students call him WAM.

Except when he is on tour, Maier broadcasts from a St. Louis studio. He perspires so profusely that he takes off his shirt. When he has to wear shirt and coat before an audience his collar is wilted and his clothes sopping. Even so, he stays to shake hands with his listeners, often standing three hours to do it. He says he likes it, that his hand never gets sore.

Maier talks for 19 1/2 minutes. He literally shouts into the microphone at a machine-gun pace. Radio engineers have tried all sorts of tricks to modulate the tone. Once or twice they persuaded him to slow down, but it took the punch out of what he said, people wrote in to ask if he was sick and fan mail dropped off 1,000 letters a day. Now Dr. Maier just shouts and lets the engineers worry about it.

Last week Concordia's president, the Rev. Louis J. Sieck, announced that the radio professor is wearing himself out. Concordia has granted him a two-year leave of absence so he can spend all his time on the Hour. Since he never drew any salary for his radio work, Concordia will continue his professorial pay: about $275 a month. The Messenger will continue his editor's pay: $125 a month.

/- St. John Chrysostom (the "golden-mouthed") was a Fourth-Century Patriarch of Constantinople, famed for his eloquence.

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