Sermon for 12/18/24: Midweek of Advent 3 (Hymns of Advent series)

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O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

Matthew 1:18-25

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Amen. 

 

The third and final hymn we will look at and consider this Advent season is O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. The hymn itself, from the 12^th Century, is based on what are known as the seven “O Antiphons,” which may date back to the 5^th Century. These prayers came to be special and well-loved of the Church, building up the hearts of the faithful as they moved toward the celebration of Christmas, teaching what the celebration of Christmas was all about. Each antiphon contains a title of Christ, a description of that title, and then a request, a prayer.

So what do we learn about Jesus from these antiphons? Consider the antiphon from which the hymn gets its title:

O Emmanuel, our king and our Lord,
           the anointed for the nations and their Savior:
           Come and save us, O Lord our God.

Emmanuel is a Hebrew word which means “God with us.” During the holidays we treasure having family and friends with us. But our Lord does even better: He make His dwelling place among us. God is with us—but not to condemn or destroy us as we deserve in our sinfulness. God is with us in flesh; He has come in flesh to save us. In mercy He has come to bring us back from our exile in sin, to bring us back into His family, to restore us to His kingdom by the forgiveness of our sins.

          Matthew the Evangelist doesn’t tell the beautiful story of our Lord’s birth the way Luke does; Matthew bypasses the story of the birth in the stable. He doesn’t tell it in beautiful picture language the way John does. Matthew just states it plainly, telling his readers that our Lord Jesus was born. But this birth was anything but ordinary! A virgin conceives and bears a Son, just as God prophesied through the prophet Isaiah. And this Son is Emmanuel, God with us, the Word made flesh to dwell among His people. He has come to be one of us, to release us from our bondage to sin and death. You know the truth about yourself and our human race: that “we are by  nature sinful and unclean,” that we are slaves of sin. There was nothing we could do to free ourselves. We needed to be saved, which means we needed someone to be our Savior. And this Child in the manger is that One. God comes in mercy and gentleness to save us in our great need. He is Emmanuel, the true God who makes His dwelling with us. Our Creator is our Savior; our King is our Brother.

          We also pray to Christ as the Wisdom of God, who teaches us to live prudently, according to God’s will and law. You may remember from Psalm 119: “Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” This is the wise way in which our Lord would have us walk. He shows us the narrow way that leads to the gate of heaven itself. And this ties into the next verse, where we pray to Christ as Adonai, the Lord of might, who gives us that Word. He gave His righteous Law on Mount Sinai, and He continues to reveal Himself to us today in His Word.

          We pray to Christ as the Root of Jesse, before whom all peoples will bend the knee in worship, from the mightiest of rulers even to the lowest of the slaves who are not counted by the world as citizens of any kingdom. We pray to Christ as the Key of David, the one who gives the Church the authority to forgive sins, opening the gate of heaven to all believers. He releases us from the chains that bound us to our sin, and He binds Satan so that that wily serpent no longer has any power over us.

          We pray to Christ as the Dayspring, the Light of the world. As we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, He shines forth in holy light, guiding our way, dispelling our gloom. A shadow fades away when the light shines brightly; so it is as we cling to Christ, “the light of men.” As St. John tells us, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” Because Christ shines His light upon us, and His light overcomes the darkness, darkness has no more power to destroy us!

          And finally, we pray to Christ as the King of the nations, the true heir of King David. Jesus is the King even David longed to see. Our hymn calls Jesus “our King of peace.” And how truly we confess Him as such, because He is the One by whom God and sinners are reconciled.

And that causes us rejoice. How can we not? And we also sing for Him to come again! We pray for Him to come and take us home, to where the rejoicing will never cease. For the day is coming when He will come, when He will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Our joy will be joined to the joy of the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. That’s what Advent’s all about. And that’s what our Savior is all about. And so we pray:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
          And ransom captive Israel,
          That mourns in lonely exile here
          Until the Son of God appear.

And we, His Church, look forward to His coming with great joy. We sing in acclamation: “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!” In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

Sermon for 12/11/24: Midweek of Advent 2 (Hymns of Advent series)

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Comfort, Comfort Ye My People

Isaiah 40:1-8

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Amen. 

 

The Advent hymn before us this evening presents us with the spiritual discomfort involved in receiving the Advent message of comfort. The hymn “Comfort, Comfort Ye My People” is the work of Johann Olearius, a German court preacher and chaplain to a duke. He originally wrote this hymn for the Festival of St. John the Baptist. In the third stanza of the hymn, the writer describes the season of Advent as “calling sinners to repentance.” In the same stanza the writer lifts his finger in admonition: “Oh, that warning cry obey!”

These phrases of the hymn present us with an unpleasant task. Despairing of our own power and our cleverly conceived plans about saving ourselves, we humbly wait for the true word of comfort our Lord speaks to us: “I forgive you all your sins. I have paid the price for you.” We have to admit that we are weak, even powerless. We need a healing within that we ourselves can never provide. It’s tough to admit, “I can’t do it myself.” Few things make prideful human beings feel more uncomfortable than such an admission. Advent sweeps away all our pride.

We need to hear a Word of comfort. And so God speaks to the prophet and sends him out with a message:

"Comfort, comfort ye My people,
Speak ye peace," thus saith our God;
"Comfort those who sit in darkness,
Mourning 'neath their sorrows' load.
Speak ye to Jerusalem
Of the peace that waits for them;
Tell her that her sins I cover
And her warfare now is over."

John the Baptist is sent to preach this message. The fulfillment of this promise is later delivered by the angels to the shepherds upon the birth of the Child with another word of comfort: “I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. …On earth peace, goodwill toward men.”

In Holy Baptism, we die to sin with Christ, and then rise with Him to new life. Our Lord has remade us: body, mind, and spirit. St. Paul the says that God in Christ has made each of us “a new creation.” The warfare waged by sinful man against his Creator is ended, the peace treaty written in the blood of the Lamb, Jesus Christ Himself.

Yea, her sins our God will pardon,
Blotting out each dark misdeed;
All that well deserved His anger
He no more will see or heed.
She hath suffered many a day,
Now her griefs have passed away;
God will change her pining sadness
Into ever-springing gladness.

This message of salvation during the season of Advent—and of Christmas, Lent, Easter, and the rest of the year—delivers sweet comfort to hearts that were bound by sin. Living in this comfort, we are moved to speak this comfort to our neighbors. Love generates love; faith yields fruit. Advent prophets like Isaiah and John the Baptist call us to be engaged constantly in the activity of comforting through human care.

In other places, Isaiah sings about the eyes of the blind being opened and the ears of the deaf being unstopped. He talks about the poor and thirsty and needy being satisfied. Our Savior does such things. For sinners who do not have the power to heal, our Lord leads us to use the gifts He gives us. He urges us to bring comfort to our neighbor. Sharing such a message can be hard work. It’s hard to speak this message to people who don’t want to hear it. It’s hard to speak this message even to people who are willing to hear it. Even pastors and missionaries, people who earn their livelihood by sharing the Gospel, often find the work of sharing the Gospel to be difficult. Speaking the Gospel to people who are comfortable in their sins; speaking the Gospel to people who think the pastor himself is a waste of time or money; going into the homes of the sick, the lonely, the depressed, the dying, and the mourning; traveling thousands of miles to bring the Word to people who have a history of murdering Christian missionaries—it can be uncomfortable, exhausting—even a dangerous task.

Speaking the comfort of the Gospel to hurting, broken people is rarely comfortable. Seldom is it convenient. Certainly it is not something done quickly or easily. But it is the work our Lord has called us to do: to deliver the comforting news of salvation in the cross of Jesus Christ—the same good news our Lord has delivered to you. The Holy Spirit strengthens you with the Word and with Christ’s body and blood to do the uncomfortable work of comforting, for our Father has made you a partner with Christ Himself as He carries out His ministry of love in the world. So…

Make ye straight what long was crooked;
Make the rougher places plain.
Let your hearts be true and humble,
As befits His holy reign.
For the glory of the Lord
Now o'er earth is shed abroad,
And all flesh shall see the token
That His Word is never broken.

God grant you a “true and humble” heart that is prepared to welcome your Lord as He comes to you, both now in His body and blood, and at the Last Day. In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

 

Sermon for 12/4/24: Midweek of Advent 1 (Hymns of Advent series)

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Savior of the Nations, Come

Luke 1:26-38

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Amen. 

 

 

We are right to consider and speak of the miracle of birth. The fact that a child can live in its mother’s womb for nine months and then emerge and breathe and live on its own is an astounding miracle. We are amazed at how tiny an infant’s fingers and toes can be. Infant eyes are so lovely and bright. Pudgy little arms and legs that make the child look like the Michelin Man can stretch and flex. Who can resist these tiny features? Every birth is miraculous in its own way. Just about every adult has had the pleasure of holding a newborn, and that wonder and joy is multiplied when the child is our own flesh and blood.

Birth and life are exquisite. Perhaps that’s why we feel so tremendously shaken by the untimely death of infants and children. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do as a pastor is preside at the burial of an infant; the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do as a man is bury my own son. It seems we hear all too often about children who die as collateral damage in drive-by shootings. Abuse is epidemic. Attacks on schools seem to be a weekly occurrence. And, of course, we would be sinfully negligent to forget abortion. When we hear about such atrocities, we in the community of faith must do more than shake our heads and murmur our disappointment. We must affirm God’s sacred gift of life in the womb, life fresh from the womb, and life even to the moment of a natural death. Life matters. Life is a gift from God. The Light must shine in the darkness of our world and reveal this great truth to us, even when people don’t want to hear it. We must hear again the Word which tells us that God breathed the breath of life into Adam and Eve. Life is a sacred gift, and we must remember and honor that gift, teaching our children the value of all life from the womb to the grave.

Such thoughts remind us of the words of our hymn: “Marvel now, O heaven and earth, that the Lord chose such a birth.” The life God created matters so much to Him that our Lord chose to born as one of us. God became flesh to dwell among us. He was born, as St. John tells us in His Gospel, to be the Light who shines in our darkness. We just sang about that Light shining for us and within us:

 

From the manger newborn light

Shines in glory through the night.

Darkness there no more resides;

In this light faith now abides.

 

Despite the humble scene of our Lord’s birth, two important factors make our Lord’s birth a singular, unique event: Jesus was born of a virgin mother, and He was conceived of the Holy Spirit. The angel tells Mary, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Highest will overshadow you; therefore, also, that Holy One who is to be born will be called the Son of God.” And so “the Word became flesh;” this child is both God and man, born to be Emmanuel: God with us in flesh to dwell among His people.

 

Not by human flesh or blood,

By the Spirit of our God,

Was the Word of God made flesh—

Woman’s offspring, pure and fresh.

 

This exquisite birth of our Lord serves as a marvelous sign for all time that God acts in a unique way in the coming of Jesus. In His unique conception and humble birth, and in all His life upon earth that follows, God works to bring His redeeming and saving power to His creation. God became one of us, but without sin, in order to redeem each of us. His birth pushes us onward to behold His ministry—His preaching, teaching, and wondrous miracles—and then to behold His death and resurrection. This Jesus comes as the Savior of mankind, and in His coming, God acts purposefully to save us from our sins.

This Advent season, let us marvel at this profound sign which God has displayed for us. The virgin birth proclaims that Christ has come as the Father’s greatest Word of love. In the virgin birth, in our Lord’s cross and His resurrection, God expresses His love completely. As we just sang:

 

For you are the Father’s Son

Who in flesh the vict’ry won.

By Your mighty pow’r make whole

All our ills of flesh and soul.

 

That is what He came for; that is what He does. He comes to us in flesh, and forgiveness is won; salvation is fulfilled; eternal life is given. Knowing that we are powerless to live as He commands, knowing we are powerless to earn His favor, God requires nothing more than what His Son came to earn and win for us.

That is good news—news that we need to share until all people know of it and believe it. We must move beyond simply observing God’s sign; we must tell our neighbors about it. Christ, the “Savior of the nations,” is coming to give us the gift of life, and we must sing for joy to all the world. Just as the shepherds do when they hear the angel’s song, let us make known abroad what God has revealed to us: Jesus is coming! And so we cry out:

 

Savior of the nations, come,
Virgin's Son, make here Your home!

 

In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

 

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always.  Amen.

 

Sermon for 11/27/24: Day of National Thanksgiving (observed)

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“Remember the Lord Your God…”
Deuteronomy 8:1-10

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen. 

 

We don’t really need a special Thursday in November to give thanks to God, do we? Thanksgiving is our priestly duty as baptized believers. This is what priests do: they offer sacrifices. Thanksgiving is a sacrifice, an offering to God for all His blessings not only to us, but to the whole world. Faithful hearts are also grateful hearts. We are thankful for all the gifts of creation. We are thankful for our own lives. We are thankful for God’s preserving gifts of clothing and shoes, food and drink, house, home, and family. We are thankful for the good land He has given us, for our freedoms, and for the protection He provides for our bodies and lives. The Catechism reminds us that God gives us all of this “out of fatherly, divine goodness and mercy, without any merit or worthiness in [us].” And we, His children, say, “Thank you.”

We thank God for the gifts of our redemption: for the coming of His Son, Jesus Christ, into human flesh; for His perfect life and death; for His resurrection; for His atonement for the sin of the world; and for His governing of all things. We thank God for the gifts of the Spirit; for the preaching of the Gospel; for the Church and for faithful pastors; for our own rebirth in Holy Baptism; for our refreshment in the Holy Supper; our fellowship together with all the saints in Christ; the resurrection of our bodies, guaranteed by the resurrection of Jesus; and the sure hope of eternal life. The least we can do is give thanks to our gracious and generous God.

Moses spoke to Israel on the threshold of the Promised Land. “Remember the Lord,” he said. Remember that He brought Israel out of Egypt, that He fed you when you were hungry, that He trained you to live by every word that proceeds from His mouth. And now He is bringing you into a good and rich land, where all the blessings of life are easily gotten. All of this was a foretaste of the feast to come, a preview of heaven itself, where God sets the table and His people eat and drink in freedom and joy.

But Moses also knew the impediments to thanksgiving. He warned them to beware. After they had eaten and were full in their comfortable homes, after their work was paying off, they would forget the Lord. They would begin to believe that their own reason and strength had gained them everything, that they were dependent on no one, that they did all these things. They made idols of the image in the mirror.

“Remember the Lord your God,” Moses would later tell them, “for it is He who gives you the power to get wealth.” He causes the rain and the sunshine in their season. He gives grain to the sower and bread to the eater. He gives life and all that you have—and more than that, He gives us the gift of life and salvation in the ultimate Sacrifice: the body and blood of the Lamb of God, our Savior, Jesus Christ. We live every moment, in this life and in eternity, out of the goodness of His hand.

It is so easy to forget the Lord because He hides behind the means He uses. We think of the farmer, the baker, the grocer. We note our own hard-earned income, our strength, our power, our intelligence, our skill. We forget about the hidden Lord who works in creation. We pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” but bread never simply shows up out of nothing. God works through means…but these created things easily become the idols we worship.

Idolatry brings anxiety; anxiety happens when our false gods fail us. We thought the money would hold out, that our health was secure. “Be anxious for nothing,” Paul says. “That’s easy for him to say. He wasn’t facing what I face.” Maybe. But Paul was in prison when he wrote those words. Picture Paul in a jail cell, writing, “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.”

So, what do you do? Paul says: “In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” Ask Him whatever you wish. Talk about whatever causes your anxiety, and do it with thanksgiving. Are you hungry? Pray for food, and thank God for your hunger. Are you lonely? Pray for a friend, and thank God for the solitude. Are you sick? Pray for healing, and thank God for your illness. Only faith in the crucified and risen Christ can pray that way.

As James reminds us in his Epistle, faith is seen by its works. This kind of thanksgiving at the feet of Jesus is the fruit of true faith in the Lord, to whom we are indebted for our very lives. He is the Word through whom all things were made. The turkey and the cranberries, the potatoes and the pumpkins, and yes, even that good bottle of wine: all are His gifts, given in blessing to you. God cares for you more than you could ever care for yourself. Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered, as are all your days. No detail of your life is too small or unimportant. You are precious to Him—as precious as the blood of His Son that purchased you from sin and death. He pours every good gift on us, without any merit or worthiness in us. “For all this it is our duty,” Luther tells us—our privilege, our priestly responsibility—“to thank and praise, serve and obey Him. This is most certainly true.” In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always.  Amen.

 

Sermon for 11/24/24: Last Sunday of the Church Year (B)

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Lord Jesus, Come Quickly

Mark 13:24-37

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

One of my favorite hymns is “Songs of Thankfulness and Praise,” hymn number 394 in your Lutheran Service Book. The fourth verse reads:
        
        Sun and moon shall darkened be,
        Stars shall fall, the heav’ns shall flee;
        Christ will then like lightning shine,
        All will see His glorious sign;
        All will then the trumpet hear,
        All will see the Judge appear;
        Thou by all wilt be confessed,
        God in man made manifest.

This image, which we hear in our Gospel text, tells of the powerful signs leading up to the Day of Judgment. Genesis 8:11 tells us, “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease.” Yet a day is coming when these things will no longer take place.

          By the signs in our text, along with others given in Scripture, many have tried to predict the day of the Lord’s return in glory. Heck, I could even make a prediction now. Let’s see… We’ve already had eclipses, so the sun and moon have been darkened. James Earl Jones died, and he is one of the biggest stars our world has ever seen or heard, so you could say that stars have fallen. And clouds move away all the time, so the heavens have fled. Why, Jesus could be coming back any time now. We might not even get through the Divine Service!

I’m sure you can tell I’m not serious about my prediction, even though Jesus very well could return before we’re done this morning. But many make guesses based on whatever evidence they choose. One of the best-selling books on the end times is The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey. Even though the world was supposed to end in the 1980s by his reckoning, the book is still being printed today! He has made other predictions since then; I guess being wrong the first time wasn’t enough. But many such predictions have come, and none of them have come to pass.

          Jesus would rather not have us focus on when the end will be. After all, no human knows. The angels don’t know. Jesus tells us that even He doesn’t know in His state of humiliation. People who claim to be able to predict the Day of Judgment are claiming that they know more than Jesus! Only the Father knows the day and the hour, and He’s not telling. Jesus has shown us the signs, and we recognize that these signs are being fulfilled in our sight, even as they were being fulfilled in the days of the disciples. We’ve been waiting nearly two-thousand years since Jesus spoke the words of our text to the disciples, and the day has not yet come. Yet we are living in the last days, which could last another ten thousand years…or another ten seconds. It’s enough that we know that the end is coming; it’s not for us to know exactly when.

          We don’t need some crackpot standing on the corner to tell us that the end is near. We already know that. Jesus has told us of that wondrous Day, the Day when He will return in glory, when His holy angels will gather us together to be with our Lord, when all trials and sorrows and illness and death will cease, when those who believe will be restored in the image of God. He has told us that He is coming soon. What is important for us as we wait is to be prepared—to watch for Jesus, to be ready for His return. Don’t get me wrong: Jesus is not telling you to save yourself. That has already been done, and nothing you can do can add to the work that Jesus has already done on your behalf. Rather, we are well prepared when we hear the Word of God and cling to it.

          Jesus gives us the brief parable of the doorman who waits for his master to return from a journey. The master is returning; of this he is sure. He doesn’t know when that return will be. He may return in ten minutes, having forgotten his briefcase. He may return in a year, having successfully concluded his business. Either way, the master is returning. Is the doorman supposed to try to figure out when the master will come back? No. The doorman stands at his post, ready for the master to come back at any time. It’s enough for the doorman to believe the master when he says he will come back. He does the job the master has selected him to do. He does not shirk his responsibility. He doesn’t earn a special reward for doing what he’s supposed to do; but if he abandons his post, if he shirks his responsibility, he will be in trouble when the master returns and finds the door locked with the doorkeeper asleep or away from his post.

          This preparation sounds like an awful burden. And it is. Jesus died bearing it for you. He came in humility as a servant. He came as a sacrifice, bearing our sins to the cross. He has clothed you in righteousness through the Word in the waters of Holy Baptism. Through that Baptism, Christ will recognize you as His own when He returns in glory. Do not doubt that for an instant.

How you prepare to receive Christ as He comes to you in glory on the Last Day is the same way you prepare to receive Christ as He comes to you in His body and blood in the Holy Supper. Luther tells us concerning the worthy reception of the Lord’s Supper, “That person is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words: ‘Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.’ But anyone who does not believe these words or doubts them is unworthy and unprepared.” Jesus has done the hard part. Now all we have to do is cling to the words and promises of Jesus by faith. And even that faith is a gift of God! It’s no burden for us to praise Christ as God in the flesh, the one who shall return in glory to judge the living and the dead. We’re even given the words to pray in Scripture, words which the Church has been blessed to pray in the Divine Service, as we do this morning.

Jesus says, “Behold, I am coming soon!” The signs are all around us. The end is near! For those who do not believe, it will be a dark day. They will have been found sleeping on duty. But for us, God’s children who cling by faith to His Word and gifts, it will be the eternal Day of great joy. And so Jesus reminds us, “Behold, I am coming soon!” Do not doubt this for a moment: He is coming soon! And by the grace of God and the work of the Holy Spirit, we respond, “Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly!” In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

 

HYMN: Blessed Are You, O Lord, God of Our Fathers

I thought I was done with the Easter Vigil project. Then one of my circuit colleagues suggested I write a hymn text for the Song of the Three Young Men, which recounts the song of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego--also known as Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah--as they are in the fiery furnace at the order of King Nebuchadnezzar. 

Here is the first draft. Feedback is love.

Oh, and I have a couple more texts to post once their intended purpose is met. One is submitted for a district convention, and the other is written in honor of a beloved mentor. One you might not see until next summer, and the other is waiting on an original tune from a colleague who suggested writing the text in our mentor's honor in the first place.

Blesséd Are You, O Lord, God of Our Fathers

1. Blesséd are you, O Lord, God of our fathers,
Worthy of honor and glory and praise.
Blest be Your name, be it holy forever:
Blest in Your Temple for uncounted days.

2. Blesséd are You, O Lord, gazing with wisdom 

Into the deep from Your cherubim throne.
Blesséd are You on the throne of Your kingdom.
Blesséd are You in the heavens alone.

3. Bless you the Lord! Bless Him, all of creation!
Bless you the Lord! Raise your voices and sing!
Bless Him, you heavens; exalt Him with anthems
Sung to the Lord, to our wonderful King.

4. Bless you the Lord, all the host of the angels!
Bless Him, you waters above and below.
Bless Him, you sun, moon, and stars in the heavens!
Bless Him, you powers, whose wonders you show.

5. Bless Him, you winds, with your powerful blowing!
Bless Him, you cold and you heat in your time,
Springtime and harvest and summer and winter,
Rain, dew, and snow: falling water sublime.

6. Earth, bless the Lord, oh you hills and you mountains.
All things that grow in the ground, bless His name!
Bless you the Lord, all you seas, springs, and rivers,
Whales, turtles, dolphins, your praises proclaim!

7. Bless Him, you airborne, you birds ever flying.
Bless Him, you cattle, you beasts of the field.
Bless Him, O Israel, you sons, priests, and prophets.
Bless Him, you righteous, whose souls He has healed.

8. Bless Him, you holy, you humble in spirit.
Bless Him, you martyrs, you saints, holy throng.
Bless Him who rescues from death and dread Hades!
Saved from the furnace, oh, praise Him with song.

9. Thanks be to God for His generous goodness!
Thank You for mercy, O God, without end.
Bless God the Lord in your sweet songs of worship.
Oh, bless the Lord! Let your praises ascend.


Alan Kornacki, Jr., b. 1974
11 10 11 10
MORNING STAR (LSB 400)
Easter Vigil; Song of the Three Young Men

Sermon for 11/10/24: Proper 27b

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Come and Die
I Kings 17:8-16

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die.” Though these are hard words to hear, they could not be more true. Four times in the Gospels, our Lord tells His disciples to take up their cross and follow Him. Our view of the cross is shaped by two thousand years of history. We think of what Jesus accomplished with His death on the cross, and that perhaps allows us to think of it as something less than a cruel instrument of execution. Only criminals who had been sentenced to die for the most heinous crimes carried crosses. And so, what Bonhoeffer said is absolutely correct, even as stark and abrupt as it sounds. When Jesus tells us to take up our cross, He is calling us to come and die.

Elijah’s words to the widow at Zarephath probably sounded just as harsh. He saw that the widow and her son were starving. He knew that little oil and flour remained. He knew that he was asking her to give him all that she had. Still, he said to her, “Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.” And for her part, the widow knew that the prophet’s command was the Lord’s command. In her ears, it must have seemed like he was saying, “Obey my words even though they will kill you.” The Word of the Lord often seems that way. His holy Word of Law kills us whenever we hear it. We never live up to its perfect standard of holiness and love. If we were truly obedient to the Law of God, we would never put our own life before the lives of others; we would never doubt God’s love or worry about the future. But too often, we seek our own good first. We doubt God’s love; we look to our friends, our family, our jobs, our bank accounts for the peace and security that can really only come from God. And in these difficult economic times, our lives are often clouded by fears about the future, and we can sometimes wonder if we really will be provided with all that we need.

God’s Word of Law can only kill us. Not only are we not God; sinners that we are, we oppose God’s will at every turn, and our doubts and fears make it clear how little we actually believe what the Lord has promised in His Word. Our bodies of sin and doubt and fear must die. They must be nailed with Jesus to His cross. When Christ calls a man, He truly bids him to come and die. Our sinful flesh must die with Jesus on the cross. It must be buried with Him in His tomb.

All of this is bound up in Holy Baptism. It is in Baptism that your sinful flesh has been put to death. The word to the widow of Zarephath does not end with, “Bring me a morsel of bread.” After the widow honestly lays out her fears before the prophet, Elijah says, “Thus says the Lord God of Israel, ‘The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’” Nor does the Word that God speaks to you end there, either. Just as the Lord drowned your sinful flesh in the waters of your Baptism, so also He has raised you to new life in Christ.

When you are facing death, it is hard to see God as your creator who loves you, who sustains you, who provides for all your needs. Death makes the love of God seem like a lie. We are always coming before God, asking, “What have you done for me lately?” When we say this, we are forgetting that every breath we breathe is a gift from God. But even in our unbelief and ingratitude, God is still gracious to us. Elijah’s answer to the widow was the promise that the Lord would provide for her. It was more than she could expect; it was more than she deserved. But that is God’s way: He simply gives the gift because of who He is. He is loving and merciful. He is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He provides for the birds. He clothes the lilies of the field in splendor. There is nothing that falls outside the protection of His gracious and generous hand.

It is absolutely certain that God will always give us what we need. What is not so certain is what that generosity will look like in the end. When we suffer, God’s provision for us is still there, though it often seems hidden. Sometimes it is not revealed until years later, and sometimes we are not allowed to see at all the good God works for us through the evil we experience. But all things that are needful for us our God has provided. God has taken all your sin, all of your suffering, and all of your fear and doubt, and He laid them on the shoulders of Jesus. And your Savior has taken all of those things to the cross and has suffered and died to dispose of them.

In place of your fear and doubt, Christ has won for you life and salvation and forgiveness. All of these things are certain because God Himself has accomplished them for you. There is nothing for you to fear. There is nothing for you to doubt. There is only Jesus, Your Savior, who has borne your sin to the cross and has given to you the anointing oil of Holy Baptism and the bread of His Holy Supper. And these gifts, with all their blessing, will not run out until you are safely with all the saints, the angels, and with God Himself, forever and ever. In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

Sermon for 10/27/24: Reformation (observed)

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the service video.

“Be Still…”

Psalm 46

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Amen. 

 

A famous composer once said that the rests are the most important parts of any piece of music. The rests in music are those places where there is no music—or, at least, no music you can hear. What could the composer have meant? After all, music is sound, right? But there’s some logic to this assertion. The placement of those rests, those bits of musical silence, determines how a piece of music will ultimately sound. To place those rests anywhere else would, in fact, create a completely different piece, even if everything else remained exactly the same. And so, silence, the absence of musical sound, becomes equally important to, if not even more important than, the sound itself.

Through His Psalmist, the Lord admonishes us: “Be still and know that I am God.” This morning we remember Martin Luther and the Reformation he led. Psalm 46 has always been identified with the Reformation and Luther because his great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” draws its inspiration from the opening verses of the Psalm: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” But the Psalm also says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” These words seem to be uncharacteristic for what we know of Luther. The Reformation was not a quiet time; it was a time of frenzied activity, a time of violence and death and destruction. Luther himself was anything but quiet. He was bold; he was brash; he was, frankly, crass. He probably would have been cancelled today, because much of what he thought, spoke, and wrote was filled with what our culture would consider abuse. While he was deeply and pastorally concerned for the flock of God, he cared little about the feelings of the theologians who perverted the truth of God and the secular rulers who took advantage of the poverty and powerlessness of their subjects.

Even so, I believe these closing verses of Psalm 46, the admonition to stillness before God, are more descriptive of Luther and the nature of the Reformation than anything else. All the things that fill the histories of the Reformation—the frenzy, the activity, the writing, the theological confrontations—these things are not as characteristic of what happened in those days than the fact that Luther and his followers faithfully heeded these words of the Lord: “Be still, and know that I am God.” “How so?” you might ask.

Above all, Luther was a man of prayer. Philip Melancthon, his co-worker in the Reformation, tells us that Luther would spend literally hours a day in prayer, that his prayer was like a child in conversation with his father who loves and cares for him. This man of great spiritual power and towering intellect knew that all he might do would come to nothing without listening to the Word of the Lord and prayerfully seeking His blessing.

One of the reasons why the Church in our day seems so helpless is that we don’t live this way. We are guilty of telling God first what we think should be done, and then seeking His blessing on what we have already decided to do. My vicarage bishop, God bless his soul, once suggested that we should have a ten year moratorium, a complete stop, on new programs from the Synod, that those ten years would be better spent on our knees in prayer. The suggestion was not well received by his hearers.

But it raises an important question: What do we think about prayer? We often look at prayer as a sort of last resort, something to do when everything else has failed. We have been programmed to think of prayer as “inactivity,” of doing nothing, a way to flee obligation, a means of avoiding our spiritual responsibilities. Especially in our nation, we have a bad habit of thinking that the first responsibility of a Christian is to take action rather than listen to the Word of the Lord.

I cannot speak for you, but for me, prayer is some of the hardest work I do. It is spiritually taxing because Satan, “the old evil foe,” as Luther called him, doesn’t want me doing it and does all he can to stop me. I am sure he does the same to you. Prayer is the single most important thing we as Christians can do. Prayer is not fleeing our spiritual obligations nor avoiding responsibility for them; prayer confronts those responsibilities head on. I’ve heard people—even Christians—say that prayer is worth Nothing in times of tragedy and disaster, even mocking those who pray. Anyone who thinks that prayer spares him from real-world responsibility either does not really pray or is not paying attention. To pray is to confront head-on the tasks God would give us to do. It is to enter the battle, face to face, with the devil, the world, and our own sinful flesh. “Be still,” the Lord says, “and know that I am God.” “Be quiet and listen to me, and I will make you ready to do battle for the Kingdom of God.”

Part of being still is remembering that we are first known by God. Indeed, He has known us from eternity; He was determined to make us His own by way of Baptism and the Holy Spirit, forgiving our sins and saving us for eternal life. He has called us by the Gospel to faith in Him, to know Him now and eternally as the One who has redeemed us from sin and death.

And so, to “be still” is to know that God can always be trusted, that we need never put our confidence in anything but His grace and mercy. It is to know that His love for us in Christ is a love that will have no end. It is to know that we have a God who will never leave us nor forsake us. As the Psalmist put it: “The Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge.”

So think of those words we just sang:

                The Word they still shall let remain
                    nor any thanks have for it;
                He’s by our side upon the plain
                    with His good gifts and Spirit.
                And take they our life,
                    Goods, fame, child, and wife,
                Though these all be gone,
                    Our victory has been won;
                    The Kingdom ours remaineth.

No matter the opposition we face—whether it’s people who hate the Gospel and deny the one true God, or the government as it infringes on our freedom to live and worship as we desire, or even the devil himself—we know that “the Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge.” Thanks be to God, for the victory over sin, death, and the power of the devil has been won in our Lord Jesus Christ! In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always.  Amen. 

 

Sermon for 10/06/24: LWML Sunday

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the service video.

“The Servant of the Lord”
Luke 1:26-38

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

What has God called you to do? We Lutherans talk about a very big word: vocation. In the narrow sense, a vocation is what pastors and missionaries have: a direct Call from God to serve in His Church. In that sense, you might think it’s easy for pastors to say what God has called us to do; after all, we serve God directly as His Called and Ordained ministers of the Gospel.

But the word vocation has a wider meaning, and it applies to all of us. The Small Catechism helps us to understand this. As you confess your sins, the Catechism tells you to “consider your place in life…” It tells you to ask yourself, “Are you a father, mother, son, daughter, husband, wife, or worker?” Each of these is a vocation, a task to which God calls you. Think about what you do in the course of your days. Are you a farmer or rancher? Are you a nurse? Do you coach a team or perform in a choir? Do you have a neighbor who needs your help or needs to hear the Gospel? Do you volunteer your time and talents? Are any of you ladies perhaps a part of the Lutheran Women’s Missionary League? What else do you do? All of these things and more are vocations, and God has called you to them. By your faithful service in those various tasks, you give glory to God and you love and serve your neighbor.

We heard Last Sunday how God uses the holy angels as messengers, among other things. This week we see Gabriel in his vocation as messenger. This is no chubby-cheeked cherub, no mild mannered, soft-spoken guardian in a sweater vest. This is a divine messenger, a being who reflects the holiness and righteousness of God. Some accounts list Gabriel among the archangels. A mere human standing before such a being would certainly have reason to be terrified—much like when a police officer or a pastor shows up at your door unannounced, only more terrifying, because at least the police officer and the pastor are common occurrences.

But that’s not what Mary finds so troubling—and that is exceptional enough. But what about that news? “Mary, I know you’re a virgin and all, but you’re gonna have a baby. Oh, and your pregnancy has happened by the power of the Holy Spirit.” How overwhelming it must have been for Mary to hear that she would be part of the fulfillment of the most important prophecies ever. You may recall that Isaiah prophesied to King Ahaz, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel.” You may also recall the promise God made to the satanic serpent in the Garden of Eden: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel.” This Son, this Seed of a woman, this Child—promised to Adam and Eve, to Abraham the Patriarch, to King David, to King Ahaz, and to all those who clung by faith to that promise—this Child shall be the One to defeat Satan forever. And Mary—sweet, innocent, virginal Mary—was chosen by God to be the mother of God. This is to be her vocation.

That’s what Mary finds so troubling. Gabriel wasn’t kidding when He said, “The Lord is with you.” The Lord through whom all things were made would reside in her womb. The Word made flesh to dwell among sinful humanity would grow inside her until He would be born in Bethlehem. It would not be easy for Mary. She would be the object of scorn. Joseph, her betrothed, would seek to divorce her. And that’s before the Child was born. When Jesus was a mere eight days old, old Simeon prophesied that “a sword” would pierce her heart. Later, Mary would run through the streets of Jerusalem with Joseph, trying to find the Child who had wandered away from her to be where He knew He had to be: in His Father’s house. Finally she would stand at the foot of the cross on which her Son would hang, weeping as she watched Him die His innocent death, suffering, bearing the sins of mankind as He had said He must do. She may not have known all the details at first, but she knew this would be a rough life. Nevertheless she answered Gabriel, “Let it be to me according to your Word.” And Mary would be okay. After all, the Lord is with her.

And the same is true for you: The Lord is with you. You may not have the same struggles as Mary—certainly none of you are pregnant with the promised Messiah—but everyone has their own difficulties. No matter your vocation—father or son, mother or daughter, boss or worker, teacher or student, pastor or layperson, and all the rest of the things you do every day—the Lord has called you to serve Him in these various tasks of your life, and each vocation carries its own troubles, especially when you try to live according to your faith.

But one thing you can be sure of is this: the Lord is with you. This is not some imaginary presence. He is with you physically, in the flesh, just as present with you now as He was in Mary’s womb. “The Word became flesh.” He has never stopped being flesh, and He has never stopped being present with you. He placed His name upon you in the waters of Holy Baptism. He speaks His Word into your ear—the same Word by which all things were created. He feeds you with His own flesh and blood, hidden in and under the bread and wine. He is present with you, just as He has promised. Find Him in the font. Find Him on the altar. Find Him where His Word is preached in truth and purity. Don’t worry that you can’t see Him; you have His promise, and His Word does not fail. So do not be afraid. Whatever it is that you face in your life, whatever the challenge before you, know this: the Lord is with you. He will not make you face any of your trials or tasks alone. God grant you faith and courage so that you may say, “I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your Word.” In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.