Scamman’s Law states that whenever two Lutherans attempt to discuss a liturgical practice, a third Lutheran will try to end the discussion, citing “Adiaphora!” This law is true, but don’t take my word for it. Visit any Lutheran forum and ask a question, such as, “What is the proper parament color for Maundy Thursday?” Then see how long it takes for someone to respond—as though you didn’t know—that parament colors are neither commanded nor forbidden in Scripture. This response is true enough, but hardly a helpful answer to the question.

Why do so many find it necessary to invoke adiaphora as a discussion-ending buzzword? Perhaps some folks are proud of themselves for knowing a five-syllable Greek word. That’s understandable. Had I just learned my first Greek word, I’d be itching for a chance to use it too. But others seem to be operating from the false premise that “Matters of adiaphora do not matter,” or, “Adiaphora means I can do whatever I want.”

A simple test will show this to be false. What do the Scriptures say about wearing a shirt while preaching? Nothing. It is neither commanded nor forbidden. It is a matter of adiaphora. This means that I’m free to do whatever I want, right? Wrong.

Even though dressing as shown above (clearly a recent photo of me and not at all generated by AI) is not explicitly forbidden in Scripture, it would be wicked for me to display my gloriously toned pecs in this way. Adiaphora is not a “do-whatever-I-want” trump card. In such matters, there can indeed be a right way and a wrong way. The Lutheran Confessions outline the criteria for examining adiaphora. We’ll get to that in a moment. But first, let’s consider a few examples of adiaphora not specifically related to the liturgy.

“Should a widow wear black or white at her husband’s funeral?” Adiaphora. “Is it proper for men to remove their hats in church?” Adiaphora. “Is a wedding ring customarily worn on the right or left hand?” Again, adiaphora. Scripture may have nothing (or very little) to say in these matters, and yet, there is a right and a wrong answer for each. That answer might depend on one’s culture and tradition. Eastern Europeans wear the wedding band on the right hand. Jewish men wear a kippah at synagogue. Indian widows dress in white. But in each case of adiaphora, depending on the setting, there is a right way and a wrong way. We accept this as normal. So why would we chafe at the idea that there could be a proper and improper way of worship? Why must those who desire to discuss reverent and historic worship be continually shouted down with cries of “Adiaphora!”?

Our pluralistic culture teaches that all ways are equal. Every opinion is equally valid. Every man’s truth is equally true. Every path leads equally to God, whomever he or she may be. For the most part, we have resisted this false and dangerous idea, insofar as Christian doctrine is concerned. But it seems that we have fallen prey to a sort of liturgical pluralism and lost our ability to speak with clarity concerning adiaphora. This is not simply a matter of opinion: my style of music versus your style of music. There are objective standards that ought to be used to judge adiaphora. Lutheran chorales are objectively superior to Methodist hymns. The five settings of the Divine Service in LSB are not equal—not musically, not poetically, and not by strength of confession. The visual statement made by a pastor wearing robes is better than that of one wearing skinny jeans. Yes, these are matters of adiaphora. But that should be the beginning, not the end, of a discussion that follows, accompanied by a rigorous examination of the practice in question.

The Lutheran Confessions teach us how to think properly about such matters. Far from being a free for all, adiaphora were “introduced into the Church with good intention, for the sake of good order and proper custom, or otherwise to maintain Christian discipline” (SD X:1). They are “profitable for good order, Christian discipline, or evangelical practice in the Church” (SD X:7). That a custom is an adiaphoron is not license for each pastor to tinker with it according to his fancy. Our confessions state: “Nothing in customary rites should be changed without a reasonable cause. So to nurture unity, old customs that can be kept without sin or great inconvenience should be kept… even though they may be burdensome. We have judged that such public unity, which could indeed be produced without offending consciences, should be preferred” (Ap XV:51–52). And where a change is deemed necessary, it should be done “thoughtfully and without giving offense, in an orderly and appropriate way, whenever it is considered most profitable, most beneficial, and best for good order, Christian discipline, and the Church’s edification” (SD X:9).

In summary, our confessions teach that customs and traditions neither commanded nor forbidden by Scripture are to be retained for the sake of good order, Christian discipline, and evangelical practice. They should not be changed unless they are shown to cause sin, and only then with great thought and in an orderly manner. Let no one then say that we are free to do as we wish. In matters of adiaphora we are bound to carefully consider the traditions we have inherited against the words of Scripture. And where Scripture is silent, we are bound to consider good order and unity within the Church.

So please, let’s have no more appeals to adiaphora as a way to shut down discussion about what is most proper or most reverent in worship. That word does not mean what many think it means. Christians can and should care about such things as the color of paraments for Maundy Thursday. Adiaphora matters! They promote good order, teach the faith, and serve to illuminate Christ and His gospel. And in case you’re wondering, the proper color for Maundy Thursday is not white (used only when the bishop is present—and American Lutherans can’t have bishops), nor purple (not a liturgical color), but violet.