Are Our LCMS Pastors Fit for Purpose and Duty?
Exploring the benefits of healthy failure before ordination rather than catastrophic failure afterward
Why don’t more seminarians drop out before ordination? A school’s attrition rates reasonably reflect how strictly teachers enforce the established standards for graduation. When attrition is low, it’s usually because the standards are too lenient or they are applied indifferently. Conversely, when attrition is high, it’s typically because the standards are strict and enforced rigorously.
The Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod (LCMS) seminaries have graduation rates of 87% and 88%, or, in other words, a 5-6 year attrition rate of just 12%. If we extend the graduation timeline beyond six years, the actual graduation rate probably jumps to the 90-95% range. Unfortunately, there are no publicly available statistics about the post-ordination attrition rates and the profile of those failures.
The LCMS has high graduation rates, even when adjusting for the fact that we are mainly recruiting from the LCMS for the LCMS. Fundamentally, it is surprising that we continue to generate a considerable supply of new pastors even as attendance and membership have collapsed, and the number of pastors has remained essentially unchanged for decades. Since the LCMS is facing an existential crisis, it’s time to ask the question: Can we rely on our seminaries to send the right men into the field?
Boot camp before battle
I’ve been part of organizations that cared deeply about ensuring only the right people completed training. As a Marine Intelligence Officer, I had to not only get through college, Officer Candidate School, and The Basic School, but as a Ground Intelligence Officer, I completed the Infantry Officer Course and the Ground Intelligence Officer Course. As a Marine Special Operations Officer, I was assessed and selected, and I also graduated from the Marine Special Operations Individual Training Course (ITC). Each course scaffolded the previous one, and the double As dominated: assessment and attrition.
Through each school, I saw people leave, either through their own decision (a drop on request), injury, or, more frequently, because they couldn’t meet the high standards of the training. The training cadre prided themselves on holding the line, ensuring that only the qualified made it through. As I went through Special Operations training, the cadre was even stricter. You not only had to be pre-qualified, but you had to be the right person to make the team. It just isn’t worth sending bad candidates to conduct the most critical missions.
How hard is it actually to get into a Special Operations unit? A recent investigation into the Navy SEALs Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUDS) training revealed insights into attrition rates across all of SOCOM. The average failure rate for officers (who are most similar to seminarians with an undergraduate requirement and being recruited from an affinity pool) is 50%, which even accounts for artificially low numbers from the aviation community. This isn’t very surprising in the military. We expect Special Operations candidates to be highly qualified and hold them to a higher standard.
As a graduate of the Marine Special Operations (MARSOC) Individual Training Course (ITC), I can attest to the objective and subjective reasons why candidates failed. To get through this pipeline, candidates first go through Assessment and Selection (A&S), a months-long program where candidates receive classes, conduct physical training, and take psychological exams. The final section is a grueling event, with more physical and psychological tests to screen out those candidates who are not prepared for ITC.
The drops don’t stop at A&S. ITC is a continuation of both objective (injury, drop on request, or failing to meet a standard) and subjective (peer reviews, instructor reviews, and review boards) reasons to boot you out. The cadre cared deeply about who made it, especially for officers. I found out why when I got to my team and saw I was now the commanding officer for my fellow students and instructors. They needed to be sure they could trust me before they would be willing to serve with me.
Not against flesh and blood
So, what’s the difference in expected outcomes for our seminarians? The selection process is reasonably grueling by graduate program standards. Recommendations and paperwork are meant to filter out poor candidates by relying on their pastors and District Presidents to decide which candidates should not apply. The chances of a pastor and DP not recommending a man for ministry are very low, and the chances of being eliminated by the professors seem to be even lower.
The seminary professors should (and probably do) know which M.Div candidates are not suited to be pastors. Anecdotal evidence from conversations I’ve had even suggests that entire classes have been given nicknames because of their weak composition. Yet, graduation rates remain extremely high, which is ultimately to the detriment of the parishes those men will attempt to serve. The seminary professors spend more quality time in the pastoral forge with these young men than their home church pastors do (and certainly more than their District Presidents, but that’s a discussion for another time). Why aren't they more actively removing unsuitable candidates at an earlier phase of formation?
As a USMC officer, I recognize that there is a difference between a candidate for military Special Operations and someone seeking the pastoral office. However, being a good pastor is far more critical and ultimately riskier than a soldier’s career. A soldier can lose his life and may be responsible for injuring his comrades if he is bad at his job. A negligent and poorly prepared pastor, on the other hand, can lead thousands of souls to eternal death.
That’s why we want our seminaries to have high and hard qualification and certification standards. We should expect and appreciate a high attrition rate because our young men are being prepared for the most brutal battles in a never-ending war, not a cushy office job with a state or federal agency.
One reason to possibly expect a lower attrition rate is that we primarily recruit from the ranks of the LCMS. This suggests the M.Div program attracts better-prepared and more qualified candidates. However, MARSOC, which only recruits active-duty Marines with an average of two years of service, still has nearly six times the attrition rate of the seminaries. It seems statistically improbable that seminary graduation rates would be that much higher, even if you say that the pre-sem programs are exceptional.
Make it harder
What does “right” look like? We will explore the considerable overlap between pastors and Special Operations in coming articles, but we can start the discussion with a few simple bullets:
Establish, publish, and regularly review objective and subjective standards for pastoral candidates at the seminary. These standards must be publicly available so candidates know what to expect and congregations can hold their vicars and pastors accountable. Every Special Operations training program features publicly accessible information, including examples for MARSOC here and here. This creates a baseline and enables open, informed, and transparent reviews of expectations. We understand that Special Operations training is challenging because the requirements are visible to everyone.
Conduct peer and teacher reviews, and review by committee (in the military, this is called a review board), the lowest ranking candidates more frequently. We should expect this review process to eliminate candidates after almost every meeting. Peer/staff reviews should be given more weight than simple academic performance, and peer/staff reviews should be given to all candidates to identify areas of strength and weakness that need to be further refined while at the seminary. This process would also feed into selection criteria, with generalized personality and performance indicators that can be posted publicly for candidates to consider.
Rely heavily on reviews during the vicarage programs, predominantly from laypeople, and use those to apply pressure to candidates to succeed or fail. While this process does occur, it needs to be randomly sampled, with a larger number of inputs from the entire congregation. This should be a required output from the hosting congregation. Ultimately, the vicarage placements and inputs are too scattershot for us to be confident that each man is getting the same baseline experience and training.
Establish a robust pipeline for failed candidates to pursue other Godly vocations if they are not suitable for the pastoral office. This provides a cushion for those who should be lauded for seeking to serve as pastors, and could ostensibly increase the offered courses at the seminary. Further exploration is needed, but this is an excellent opportunity for growth at the seminary.
Enact a mandatory summer “hardening” program, in parallel with the Greek or other qualification programs. It would do our young men the world of good to go through a seminary version of boot camp that is difficult, but starts to forge a new cohort through their shared struggles and achievements. In addition to the language study, chapel, and spiritual disciplines around Bible study and memorization, it needs to include physical fitness programs, situational exercise, hygiene and cleanliness inspections, etiquette and decorum classes, and all the activities that help establish camaraderie amongst the incoming class (a lack of sleep and food included). The importance of this type of program cannot be overstated. People may laugh at this suggestion, but this is likely the most effective means of preventing bad candidates from beginning a program they are not suited for, allowing them to transition to another vocation without significant disruption quickly.
Many other steps can and should be taken, but applying the above would result in a beneficially higher attrition rate. We must ensure that our schools are turning out the best possible candidates who are fit for purpose and service for an entire career of heavy spiritual warfare. I care because one day, that pastor may become the shepherd to me, my wife, and my children. In Special Operations, I demanded the very best. Now, I’m demanding even better. My soul depends on it.
 | A guest post by
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Ordaining unfit men doesn’t just hurt institutions, but it wounds Christ’s sheep. Better to fail early than to harm later.
The root problems I see:
Institutional preservation: Success is measured by high graduation rates and full pipelines. But this props up fragile institutions while sidelining faithfulness. True fruit comes when we trust God’s pruning, even if it exposes decline.
Misunderstood calling: Desire is treated as divine call, and leaders hesitate to say “no.” The result is sentimentality instead of discernment, where men cling to ministry to validate themselves rather than being freed to serve faithfully in another vocation.
Production incentives: Seminaries measure output, District Presidents fill pulpits, congregations want anyone over no one. This reduces pastors to numbers, when the true measure is shepherds who can bear the cure of souls.
Loss of vocation: Pastors are trained for academics and judged in congregations by administration, but neither form them as shepherds. The formation of the whole pastor: prayer, presence, humility, and the cure of souls is often sidelined.
Cultural conformity: Families shrink, catechesis is subpar, and congregations blend into the world. By trading the cross for comfort, the church loses its countercultural witness and withers like the world it mirrors.
Gospel drift: Confidence shifts from Christ’s power to renew to systems and pipelines that keep the machinery running. By trusting survival strategies over the gospel, we deny the very power that gives life.
What repentance looks like:
Seminaries: Redefine success as not graduates, but faithful shepherds.
District Presidents: Tell the truth about calling, even if pulpits stay vacant.
Congregations: Resist cultural idols and embrace countercultural family life and discipleship.
Pastors: Return to the basics, such as prayer that carries the flock before God, Word preached with depth, law/gospel clarity, and catechesis that teaches both what we believe and why, and shepherding presence at pulpit, sickbed, family time, and graveside.
The bottom line is that renewal will not come by toughness, production, or sentimentality. It will come by pruning, repentance, rediscovering the gospel, and trusting the Shepherd who makes dead things live again.
The “summer hardening program”
Would be outstanding