When Mega-Churches Shape Seminary Education
Reflections on Luther Seminary’s New $10 M Initiative
This week Luther Seminary announced a $10 million Lilly Endowment grant to explore “new models of theological education,” rooted in partnerships with five organizations: Lutheran Church of Hope (West Des Moines), Mount Olivet Lutheran (Minneapolis), Augsburg University, Luther Crest Bible Camp, and Calvary Lutheran Church, Alexandria. The initiative is named The Luther Collective.
On its face, this appears to be part of a larger national trend: theological schools forging deeper ties with congregations, experimenting with distributed models, and adjusting to declining enrollment and shifting ecclesial realities.
Yet, for those of us who are observant of ELCA polity, inclusive theology, and the fragile ecosystem of congregational life, this particular configuration of partners raises significant questions.
Congregational Partners — But Which Ones?
The grant announcement emphasizes a future in which theological formation happens “in local congregations.” But the partners chosen are not representative of the vast majority of ELCA congregations. Most are large, well-resourced, and institutionally powerful:
Lutheran Church of Hope (West Des Moines) — a multisite mega-church removed from the ELCA roster in 2024 after employing multiple pastors not rostered in the ELCA or its full-communion partners.
(Southeastern Iowa Synod announcement, July 2024.)Mount Olivet Lutheran Church (Minneapolis) — one of the larger Lutheran congregations in the United States, with robust institutional capacity and resources. Its senior pastor, David J. Lose, has a long academic and pastoral pedigree (former faculty at Luther Seminary, former seminary president). Mount Olivet+2Faith and Leadership+2,
Augsburg University — an ELCA-affiliated liberal arts university whose mission extends beyond purely theological or confessional training.
This raises the question: Is the seminary actually seeking to learn from “local congregations,” or primarily from mega-congregations with extensive infrastructures?
Including a Church That Has Left the ELCA — and a Pastor Who Avoids Public Witness on Gun Violence
Including Lutheran Church of Hope as a formative partner is perhaps the most striking development. Hope’s departure from the ELCA was described as “amicable,” but it was still a removal, and for constitutional reasons. They’d been on the way out the door for a while, ever since the ELCA adopted a more inclusive stance on LGBTQIA+ pastoral leadership in 2009. Why would an ELCA seminary directly partner with a non-ELCA congregation in shaping the future of Lutheran clergy formation?
What’s more, the inclusion of Mount Olivet with David J. Lose as its senior pastor adds another layer. Lose recently published a public commentary in which he declined to sign a statewide faith-leaders petition calling for a ban on assault weapons. He explained that while he might support gun-safety measures in principle, he felt the petition’s demands risked “partisan” overtones and might alienate members of his 16,000-member congregation whose political convictions vary widely. Star Tribune
This is revealing on several levels:
It shows that at least some of the “church leadership” involved in shaping the new seminary model prioritize institutional unity and broad inclusion over public prophetic witness on issues such as gun violence.
It underscores a theological-political posture in which “big tent” unity and avoidance of polarization is elevated even in the face of urgent social-moral crises.
By extension, it signals that the values shaping future pastoral formation under this grant could lean toward a kind of cautious pastoral minimalism: formation that avoids public moral risk-taking in favor of institutional stability and broad appeal.
If Luther Seminary is serious about forming leaders for “the church universal,” it’s worth asking whether this kind of cautious ecclesial posture is sufficient or if it betrays a retreat from the church’s prophetic vocation.
What Does This Mean for Small and Mid-Sized Congregations?
If the future of theological education is to be “congregation-based,” the central question becomes: Which congregations?
Most ELCA congregations are not mega-churches. Many are under 200 members. Many are rural. Many are aging. They do not have multiple clergy, internship supervisors, satellite campuses, or multimillion-dollar budgets. Has Luther Seminary meaningfully consulted these faith communities? How will this model support the formation of pastors called to serve small congregations? Will they be able to participate? Or will their voices be marginal?
The risk is that “congregationally-based” formation becomes synonymous with “formation shaped by mega-churches.”
Given the financial pressures seminaries face nationally, a large grant, especially one tied to specific partnerships, inevitably raises questions about influence. If the institutions participating are large, influential, and well-resourced, the practical effect may be a re-centering of pastoral formation around their models, values, and theologies.
This may not be anyone’s conscious intent, but structures have impacts regardless of intentions.
A Seminary at a Crossroads
Luther Seminary has already been through several cycles of change in the last decade:
downsizing campus use,
pivoting toward digital and distributed models,
staff transitions,
the formation/departure of a new Lutheran seminary in South Dakota by some former faculty.
In this context, shaping the seminary’s future around congregations with “a foot out the door” of the ELCA, or congregations whose pastoral leadership publicly rejects bold moral-political witness, raises serious ecclesial questions.
This isn’t just about “modernizing seminary education.” It’s about the kind of church we want to form, the kind of ministry we believe pastoral leaders should practice, and the kind of public witness — or silence — we permit to shape that formation.
Conclusion: A Call to Transparency and Broader Conversation
For many of us who are alumni, pastors, or congregational leaders, this development is concerning not because innovation is inherently bad, but because who is invited into the innovation reveals the direction of the institution.
If Luther Seminary is serious about formation rooted in the life of congregations, then small, rural, economically modest, and fully ELCA-aligned churches must be invited into the center of the conversation.
If the seminary is serious about the prophetic vocation of the church, then theological formation should not shy away from moral-political engagement, especially when violence, injustice, and suffering demand it.
If Luther Seminary wants trust from the broader church, it must speak plainly about how the influence of mega-church partners will be balanced with the needs of the whole ELCA and about how it envisions theological formation not just for the powerful, but for the many.
And this is precisely where RIC status actually matters. If Luther Seminary were an RIC seminary, if its commitments to LGBTQIA+ inclusion were formal, public, and accountable, then my response to this new partnership would be entirely different. The news wouldn’t raise questions about alignment, formation, or the theological signals being sent to the wider church. Instead, it would appear (at least more so) as a creative institutional collaboration grounded in shared values. But when a seminary without explicit RIC commitments forms partnerships with congregations that either have left the ELCA or resist public moral clarity — such as Mt. Olivet under David Lose, who recently declined to stand with Twin Cities faith leaders on an assault weapons ban petition — the church must pay attention. These partnerships don’t simply reflect institutional pragmatism; they shape the horizons of pastoral formation. And for those of us who care deeply about the future of a public, inclusive, justice-oriented Lutheran witness, this is a moment to name what is at stake with clarity and charity.
The stakes are high. The future shape of pastoral formation is being forged right now. We should pay attention.
Appendix: Alternative Seminaries to Recommend — and Why
For those of us who care deeply about inclusive Lutheran theology, confessional integrity, and the health of small and mid-sized congregations, this moment at Luther Seminary invites a more intentional look at the wider ecosystem of theological education in the ELCA. Several seminaries continue to serve the whole church well, with clear commitments to LGBTQIA+ inclusion, contextual learning, and pastoral formation that reflects the breadth of Lutheran ministry.
Here are some of the institutions I would (and increasingly do) recommend to seminary-curious people in my congregation:
1. Wartburg Theological Seminary (Dubuque, Iowa)
Why recommend it?
Fully ELCA-aligned with a strong tradition of rural, small-congregation, and multi-point parish preparation.
Emphasizes contextual learning and continuity between seminary formation and parish life.
Has a deeply embedded culture of community, collegiality, and student support.
Strong commitments around inclusion and justice; many Wartburg graduates serve in reconciling settings and advocacy-based ministries.
Contrast to Luther right now:
Wartburg’s culture remains grounded in the needs of everyday congregations, not mega-church models, not institutionally powerful partners. It is also a seminary where LGBTQ+ people consistently report feeling safe and supported.
2. Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago (LSTC)
Why recommend it?
One of the most public and explicit ELCA seminaries regarding DEI, queer inclusion, racial justice, and interfaith engagement.
Draws on the urban realities of Chicago for contextual learning.
Strong faculty in constructive, liberationist, and public theology.
A place where prophetic ministry is not side commentary; it’s central to formation.
Contrast to Luther right now:
LSTC’s commitments are transparent, public, and institutionally integrated. There is no hedging around inclusion or public moral witness. It is explicit where Luther Seminary has remained ambiguous.
3. Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary (PLTS) – Berkeley, California
Why recommend it?
Deep integration with the Graduate Theological Union, offering ecumenical and interreligious formation.
Explicit commitments to queer inclusion, anti-racism, and immigrant justice.
Strong alignment with West Coast progressive theology and activism, while maintaining pastoral formation rooted in Lutheran tradition.
Contrast to Luther:
PLTS is comfortable operating at the intersection of church, justice, and public life. Their graduates often lead ministries where advocacy is inseparable from pastoral care, a notable contrast to the quieter public stances among Luther Seminary’s new congregational partners.
4. United Lutheran Seminary (ULS) – Philadelphia and Gettysburg
Why recommend it?
Post-merger institution with explicit commitments to LGBTQIA+ inclusion and racial justice.
Offers a range of contextualized learning environments, from urban to rural.
A seminary intentionally reckoning with institutional history and rebuilding itself around transparency and accountability.
Contrast to Luther:
ULS has made its structural commitments public and is actively cultivating student formation around justice, trauma-informed ministry, and multi-context pastoral leadership.
Imagining what a 10 million initiative could do for our small, rural/urban congregations and the formation of future pastors.
Given that a lot of congregations without pastors that cannot sustain a full-time pastor far outnumber the mega churches, it would make sense to educate seminarians in dual degree programs that, upon graduation, provide them a viable tent-making job while pastoring the flock that calls them.