Sermon for 12/31/22: Eve of the Name and Circumcision of Jesus

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

No sermon video.

Jesus: The Lord Saves

Galatians 3:23-29

 

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

 

 

Our gospel for this Feast of the Church Year is a short verse: “And when eight days were completed for the circumcision of the Child, His name was called JESUS, the name given by the angel before He was conceived in the womb.” We begin the New Year with this reading because tomorrow is the eighth day after Christmas. So eight days after His birth, the infant Jesus was circumcised and formally received His name. The name “Jesus” is equal to “Joshua.” The Old Testament Joshua was the faithful man who led the people at their entrance into the Promised Land. Moses died before the event, but Joshua completed the work, according to the promise that God made to Moses. In Hebrew, Joshua means “the Lord saves us” or “the Lord is my Savior.” Translated into Greek, the name “Joshua” becomes “Jesus.”

As we read this evening in Genesis, circumcision was instituted to be the entrance of the male child into the community of Israel. Today male children receive circumcision at the hospital for hygienic reasons. However, at that time, circumcision meant that the child would be a child of Abraham and an heir of the promises of God to Abraham.

With the birth of Jesus Christ, His life, death and resurrection, all the promises were fulfilled that God made to Abraham and the patriarchs of Israel. In the blood of Christ, God made a new covenant with all nations. Since this is the case, all who believe in Jesus Christ are heirs of Abraham. The church, the assembly of believers in Jesus, is now the people of God, the new Israel. St. Peter called the church a holy nation and royal priesthood, the same words applied to Israel in the Old Testament. Baptism has replaced the Old Testament covenant. The watered blood which flowed from our Lord’s side has replaced the blood of circumcision. Our children do not need the mark of their own blood on their bodies to be known as the seed of Abraham; in the water and the Word, we have the seal of the promise of eternal life. In our text St. Paul says it this way: “As many as have been baptized into Christ are clothed with Christ.”

Our sins are covered by the righteousness of Christ. In baptism we receive the righteousness of Christ along with His name. He was known not only as Jesus, but also Christ--that is, the Messiah. The disciples of Jesus were called Christians for the first time in the city of Antioch. In the name of Christ, we are saints of God: not by our own strength, but by faith in Christ. St. Paul says, “The law was our tutor to bring us to Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after faith has come, we are no longer under a tutor.” For thse who believe in Christ, the law is like a measuring-stick. How do we live as children of God? The law teaches us to love the Lord your God with your whole being and to love your neighbor as yourself. How do we do this? We cannot do it on our own, by our own righteousness; it is only by the work of the Holy Spirit in Holy Baptism that we receive the perfect love which our Lord Jesus lived for us.

Therefore, we do not obey the law for fear of punishment, because in Christ we are free from condemnation. In Christ we know the perfect love of God, because God sent His only Son to suffer our punishment and to die on the cross in our place. Our motive is to show others the love that God has shown us in Christ--again, not out of fear of punishment, but in thanksgiving for the sacrificial love of Christ.

All receive the gift of faith and the blessing of God in baptism equally. St. Paul says, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” In a sense, the concept of human rights is based on the idea that all human beings are creatures of God. Every human being has intrinsic value in the eyes of God, no matter his or her state in this world. Therefore, everyone has basic rights and a good government must recognize these rights. Even so, according to the order of creation, there are still distinctions in the status of human beings. Some are males, some are females. They all have their own ethnicity. There are rich and poor too. But this verse does not speak of the earthly state, but the spiritual state. We are all sinners and deserve the condemnation of God. But all receive by grace the promise of eternal life. We are equal in redemption.

We all have blessings in this life. We all have trials and difficulties. The new year will bring new blessings and new tribulations, and the gifts and struggles of this passing year may linger in our lives. Nevertheless, all these things will pass. Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly! But the Word of God will endure forever. In this we have the peace this world cannot give: true peace in Christ, which will never fade away. 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 12/25/22: The Nativity of Our Lord

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the sermon video.

Not Alone
John 1:1-18

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

An amazing thing happened a couple of days ago, though it likely went unnoticed by most. We reached and passed the Winter Solstice, and now our northern hemisphere tilts just a bit nearer the sun. Each day we receive a few more moments of sunlight; it will soon be Spring. And yet, we must still travel through the dreary days of January, as well as February’s flirtation with spring. The Solstice has come and gone, but it’s not Spring quite yet. Indeed, our coldest days may still be ahead.

Men walk about this cold, dark, and sinful sphere of pain, regretting the past and afraid of the future: hopeless, despairing, frustrated, and alone, if only with their thoughts. Their souls are as gray and gloomy as the winter skies. They are the living dead. Their guilt seems too much to bear. They cope through denial. They strive to forget. They hide. They run. They pretend. They strike back with cruelty and violence. They want to kill whatever remains in them that feels or can still be hurt. Ask them how they feel about life, and what they think of God; it is bleak and dismal and ugly. Do not think that they are the exception from humanity; do not think that man is basically good. No, this is man without God, and there is at least a bit of this infection in all of us, however much we may try to cover up what we really are.

Fallen man is cursed with an emptiness that has been left in him by rebellion against God. It is a deadly ignorance, which even the animal creatures in this world cannot experience. It is man’s foolish and shameful ignorance alone. In this regard, the wild beasts are wiser than men. Men are infected with sin. We are twisted in on ourselves. Sin is killing us as surely as death itself.

Sins, popular or not, great or small, afflict and torture us. They are not innocent. They are both the problem and the symptom. There are no “little white lies,” no “meaningless affairs,” no suitable “lesser evils,” no “small vices.” Our sins, our most grievous faults, our wicked desires and selfish motives, deepen the chasm that exists between us and happiness, between us and righteousness, between us and God. Men have chosen darkness, and we have deserved what darkness renders. We are dead, and on our own there is no hope. We are perpetrators, willing and intentional sinners. We have gossiped and lied, backstabbed and plotted, craved evil things, thought dark and cruel thoughts. We are shameful and guilty. We cannot stand on our own before the blinding glory of God’s holiness. We are despicable and disgusting, and, humanly speaking, impossible to love.

But we are not alone, and that is a very good thing. There is One who is in every way what we were created to be: Jesus Christ, the Word who “became flesh to dwell among us.” He became Man, and yet He remained pure and holy, merciful and gracious, kind, compassionate, and forgiving. He was true Man more true than any other, for He lives as we were created to live; He is all that Adam should have been for Eve and his children. He was born to rule this world as the Prince of peace.

And this is how our King chooses to rule: “To us a Child is born, to us a Son is given...” He does not rule by power or might, nor by force or violence, nor by coercion or popularity; He enforces His gracious rule by sacrifice, by forgiveness and grace. There was no room for Him in the inn so that there would be room for us in heaven. He was born to die, to be a sacrifice, to be the Light of man and beat back the night, to shut the devil’s mouth, to rob the grave of its victory, to be God with us in flesh.

Here is the real miracle of Christmas: The Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, loves us. Jesus is Immanuel—God with us as the flesh-and-blood embodiment of that love. All things are possible for Him who took up our flesh. He chooses of His own gracious will to love us. Love was born of Mary, according to the flesh, in those humble circumstances Luke describes in his Gospel. But the One born in flesh that night is the only-begotten of the Father from eternity. He did not come to exist in that moment of the angel’s announcement to Mary; He has always been. But in that moment, when Gabriel told Mary the Good News, God became Man. He took up our flesh to live our life and die our death, to rise again for our justification, to love us, to free us, to make us clean and holy, to redeem us.

We are gaining sunlight every day. The Solstice marks the turn. It promises a future free of cold. If it is Winter, then Spring is coming. If it is Christmas, then Easter cannot be far away. And if that is the Spring, then His return in glory is the warm and peaceful Summer. And that glorious day will soon be upon us, too. For we are not alone. God is with us. God is One of us to save us. On this day we stand in His grace, righteous in Christ, adopted as His beloved, forgiven of all sins, bearing His holy name. We are not alone. We are not afraid. We have hope. For we have a Savior. He is Christ the Lord, proclaimed by angels, worshiped by shepherds, and adored by us this day, where He bestows the life we so desperately need. 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 12/21/22: Midweek Advent IV (Fear Not series)

 For the final time this year, it was my pleasure to preach at the midweek service for the dual parish of Immanuel Lutheran in West Point and St. Paul in Wine Hill. We concluded our "Fear Not" series with the message of the angels to the shepherds.

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

Fear Not: Shepherds

Luke 2:8-20

 

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

 

          The shepherds knew a thing or two about fear, and they certainly had reason to know about fear. After all, tending the flock involved many dangers. The sheep themselves are stupid animals, just as likely to run in the opposite direction or even trample the shepherd as to go where the shepherd leads. And, of course, there are the wolves looking for dinner; they want the sheep, of course, but they’ll settle for the shepherd. The nights were long and cold and dark, conditions with plenty of inherent dangers. So if they allowed themselves to think about it, these men had plenty of reasons to be afraid. And that’s all before the angels show up—you remember: those angels that bear no resemblance to the Hallmark figurines; those angels who reflect the glory of the righteous God; those terrifying angels who bear the Word of God like a flaming two-edged sword.

          And these shepherds were, at best, ordinary men. Being a shepherd did not require an advanced degree in theology, or even a degree in shepherding. It didn’t require jewelry or fancy clothing, though warm clothing would certainly help some nights. It didn’t require a way with words, though it did help if you spoke gently to the sheep so they would recognize your voice. It did require physical fitness to keep up with the sheep, sometimes to carry a sheep, and to be able to fight off wolves and thieves. Ordinary men—and sometimes just boys—these shepherds would have no reason to expect that God would have a special message delivered just for them. After all, they already knew the Ten Commandments, and they heard the rabbi teaching God’s Word. For such simple men, that was probably it for them in the way of theological education. The shepherds were ordinary people just like us—and maybe even more ordinary.

          So why does this divine message come to these humble shepherds? Why should the shepherds cast off their fear at the appearance of this divine messenger and his heavenly host? The angel gives us the answer. The message that the angel delivers is “good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.” The others who were visited by the angels might have seemed like regular people, but they had unique qualities or backgrounds which set them apart. Mary and Joseph may have seemed ordinary, but they were descended from King David himself. Zecharias may have seemed ordinary, but he was a member of the priesthood, selected to serve in the Temple. But these shepherds were the lowest of the low, and still the Lord sent His messengers to them. On the other hand, we know King Herod was afraid; he thought Jesus was coming to steal his earthly throne. The angel doesn’t come to reassure Herod. The high priests and Pharisees and other religious leaders would be afraid; Jesus was coming to do away with the false piety of these imposters and lead the people to the true Temple, which is the body and blood of Jesus. But the angel didn’t come to them, either. He came to these shepherds. So the message isn’t only for those the world sees as special people. The message isn’t only for the ruling class, though it certainly was for them. The message isn’t only for the religious leaders. It’s for all people, even the humblest shepherd. This is truly “good tidings of great joy,” for Jesus is a Savior for all people.

          This joyful message, first given to humble shepherds, is for all humble sinners. It is for us: sinners who kneel before our Lord and admit that we have sinned; sinners who admit that we fall short of God’s glory; sinners who admit that we deserve only present and eternal punishment. This joyful message is for shepherds, for doctors and nurses, for prison workers, for teachers, for students, for farmers, for mayors and judges, even for pastors! “Unto you”—unto each of you sitting in this holy sanctuary this evening, and to me, as well—“Unto you is born…a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” Unto sinners is coming the Savior. He is coming to bring “peace, goodwill toward men.” How will He do that? He has come to bear your sins; He has come to die, and in that death He gives us that peace which the world cannot give: true peace, peace between the holy Father and redeemed sinners, now made saints in our Lord Jesus Christ.

          The true joy and peace of this has everything to do with God’s unconditional gift to us: the giving of Jesus as a full and complete sacrifice to a world that has nothing to offer in return.  Our joy and our peace are not located in check books or credit cards or gifts that are bought and paid for with our silver or gold, for these things will corrode and turn to dust and fade away. Our true Christian joy and peace are found only in the gift of life that is ours in Christ Jesus alone, which He bought and paid for “with His holy and precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.” He has come to die for your salvation, and He is coming again to bring you to be with Him forever. That is our joy and peace. And by His death and resurrection He says to you, “Do not be afraid!” 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 12/18/22: Fourth Sunday in Advent

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the sermon video.

“The Lord is at hand…”

Philippians 4:4-7

 

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

 

 

Last Sunday, the Gospel introduced John the Baptist to us, but not as the bold confessor. Instead he is shown in the throes of weakness and doubt. And then last Sunday’s Introit, like today’s Epistle, called on us to rejoice. It may seem like a strange combination, but life often seems like a bundle of contradictions. Telling us to rejoice is like telling children to eat candy: it is usually an unnecessary command. We are quick to rejoice. We certainly prefer that to mourning. But the problem is—and here is where the contradiction arises—we pervert rejoicing. In the same way we turn love into lust and gratitude into pride, we turn joy into self-exaltation. We rejoice in ourselves, in the pleasures of the flesh, in the defeat of an enemy, in the sound of our own voice. The fact that this command to rejoice finds itself in the season of Advent lets us in on what is proper and godly rejoicing. God-pleasing rejoicing is found in the midst of repentance. It is made in being emptied of self, turning from sin, and trusting in the goodness of God to make all things right.

 

St. Paul would not want us to be confused. He is quite explicit. We are to rejoice in the Lord, in the One who was and is and will be forever, the One who led His people out of slavery in Egypt, who spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai, who forgave King David’s great iniquity, who provides the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. St. Paul would have you rejoice in Him always—not just when things are going your way; not just when things look promising—always! At all times, and in all places, no matter what: rejoice in the Lord! For that is what faith does. Faith believes God is good and rejoices in Him at all times, in all places, under all circumstances. This is quite a message for those who, like John, are enslaved or wrongly imprisoned, for those who suffer insults and all kinds of difficulties for the sake of the truth, for those who are misused and abused simply because they would have all people know the love of God in Jesus Christ. 

 

But let us not forget the one who delivers this exhortation. St. Paul himself knew well of injustice, both as persecutor and persecuted. And before he would be called to his heavenly reward, he would know the injustice of false imprisonment and, as tradition has it, he would feel the axe upon his neck. But by the grace of God, he would not be moved. He would not pray alongside of those who gave their worship to Caesar. He would not dishonor the Gospel by participating in pagan ceremonies.

 

St. Paul never offers shallow cliches. When he says, “Rejoice!” he means it. Nor is this just an attempt to stir up some nice feelings. He is offering sound Biblical insight. Our joy and rejoicing comes from and is found in Jesus. He is the source of all joy. And if the fullness of joy is found in His presence, then the only place we should ever seek joy is in Him. There is no other. He is merciful and gracious even as we are pathetic and needy. He is patient and longsuffering. He is quick to forgive. He loves you. He carried your guilt at His cross until full payment was made, until Justice was satisfied, until He ended your open rebellion by declaring you His own child, a member of the royal household, an heir of the eternal Kingdom.

 

Never changing, older than creation itself, is God’s love for you in Christ, His desire to have you for His very own, His promise to give you all the good things of creation. And still, His love is ever new, ever fresh and wonderful, ever filling you with joy, causing you to rejoice. Telling you to rejoice is like telling you to breathe. What else could you do when so much has been given to you in such great mercy?

But what does this rejoicing look like? Paul combines joy in the Lord with gentleness. This word “gentleness” means “gentleness in spirit and temper,” which takes its cue from the nearness of our Lord’s return. It means setting aside our focus on material wealth because the end is so near when all such things will lose their value. It means patience in the presence of insults and persecution, because all will soon be forgotten. It means gentleness in word and deed because He who knows all things perfectly is so near. It means being ready to turn away from this world’s joys and ambitions because, when He arrives, this poor world will vanish. It means being gentle in spirit because He who is coming is the very Prince of Peace!

The Lord is at hand! He is here in the indwelling of His Spirit first implanted in you when you were baptized. He lives in you, and still He draws near to you. He draws near in a even fuller and greater presence in His holy body and blood, to purge you of all guilt, to unite you to Himself. And now He draws near in the fulfillment of all things, the end of sin and rebellion, the end of sorrow and shame, the end of doubt and fear. Your warfare with God is ended. So also shall your warfare with men end. Until then, the peace of God will keep you through Christ Jesus. In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

And yes, the peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

Sermon for 12/14/22: Midweek of Advent III (Fear Not series)

Once again it is my pleasure to be filling in for the vacant parish of St. Paul in Wine Hill and Immanuel in West Point, Illinois. We continue our sermon series as we hear the angel say to Joseph, "Fear not!" Sorry for the delay.

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

Fear Not: Joseph

Matthew 1:18-24

 

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

Joseph was a good man. He was righteous before God and his community. He was wise, caring, compassionate. If there had been romance novels 2000 years ago, Joseph was the kind of man the novelists would model their male protagonists after. He was honorable, just, and considerate, even to someone he thought had wronged him. After all, in our time, it would be a very rare man who would respect his ex and care enough about her to protect her reputation even after she supposedly cheated on him. There are videos all over the Internet with men who shame the women they previously claimed to love. Yeah, the man has been hurt, but that’s no reason for him to scream her infidelities to everyone with an Internet connection. Had he lived today, Joseph would have turned off his computer, put away his phone, and gone to his lawyer with as little fuss as possible. And once the deed was done, once Mary had been set aside with as little fanfare as he could manage, once the pain of betrayal had left his heart, maybe Joseph could have made a wonderful spouse for some other lucky woman.

But yes, he still would have gone ahead with the divorce. He was righteous, after all. Though he would grieve to set Mary aside, Joseph had a reputation to maintain, and Mary’s alleged infidelity would have shamed him and destroyed his reputation. The philosophers, not to mention the Scribes and Pharisees, would have put their stamp of approval on this worldly wise decision. This action balanced justice with fairness, righteousness with mercy. And yes, if they existed, First Century romance novelists would have swooned in their writing workshops to encounter such a man. To do what is right in the eyes of the world seems wise, and it certainly would be safer.

Look at how hard it is to live as a Christian today. The wise thing is to deny your faith—to bake the cake, to perform the wedding, to live together before marriage, to laugh at or even tell the crude joke, to just go along with the crowd—rather than risk the scorn of friends and neighbors. Yes, it’s easier to give in to the world’s sinful agenda. And it would have been easier for Jesus to just give in to Satan’s temptations, to kneel before the devil, to refuse the cup of suffering which the Father set before Him. It’s tempting to take the easy road, but the easy road leads to hell.

That’s exactly the struggle Joseph faced. But the angel appeared to him in a dream to intervene. “Do not be afraid, Joseph, son of David.” What the world counted as righteousness, the Lord called fear. The Lord sent His messenger to calm Joseph’s fear, for things were not what they had seemed. The Child was not the product of infidelity on Mary’s part; this Child was from the Holy Spirit. Mary’s virginity and her vow to Joseph remained intact. This Child, thought to be a sign of Mary’s unfaithfulness, was the promised Messiah. Joseph had wisely, in the eyes of the world, decided to set Mary aside; but the angel gave to Joseph God’s foolish option—foolish in the eyes of the world. The Lord sent His angel to give Joseph a better option than he could work out on his own. The circumstances did not change, but this message allowed Joseph to keep his honor before God and still keep his oath to Mary.

When the angel said, “Do not be afraid to take Mary as wife,” Joseph was freed. Mary had not been unfaithful. She carried in her womb the One who had been promised to their first ancestors, the One who would crush the head of the satanic serpent. Mary’s pregnancy, which Joseph thought would bring him shame, would instead bring about the end of the whole world’s shame and save all people from the wages of sin, for Mary bore in her womb the Child who came to bear all that shame, who came to die to pay the price of all the world’s sin.

In the end, Joseph remained the kind of man romance novelists would drool over. And what’s more, Joseph remained the man he strove to be: righteous before God, honorable among men, and faithful husband to faithful Mary. He was given the responsibility of being the step-father to the Son of God. Joseph lost nothing…nothing except his fear. God released him from his fear, and in doing so provided an earthly father for the Christ Child, the Child who frees us all from our fear, from our sin, from our captivity to death and the power of the devil. So as the angel said to Joseph, our Lord says to you also as you strive to walk in the light of Christ: “Do not be afraid!” 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 12/11/22: Third Sunday in Advent

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the sermon video.

Tidings of Comfort

Isaiah 40:1-11

 

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

 

 

The infant crying in its crib; the old man clinging to a beloved hand as life ebbs away—one has just come into the world, and one is ready to depart, but both need comfort. Beginnings and endings and all the times in between, the need for comfort is vital to the human existence. And yet, aren’t we sometimes skeptical of the comfort we are given? Aren’t we tempted to think that it is just pious platitudes? We don’t want to question the motives of others in their attempts to comfort us, but we do anyway. As you know from trying to comfort my family over the past months, giving comfort can be just as difficult, just as painful, as the need to receive it. And so, sometimes we cling to the questionable wisdom of the saying that it is often best to say nothing at all.

God, however, knows how to give comfort. “‘Comfort, comfort my people,’ says your God.” There is a compelling urgency in these words of the Lord. But if this message is not to be confused with the voices of phony reassurance, we need to know precisely what this comfort is. And these words of our Lord, spoken by His prophet, will help us better understand and receive comfort, and then, perhaps,  maybe we can even offer comfort ourselves.

We must remember: comfort implies a comforter; comfort doesn’t just materialize out of nothing. And our Comforter is God Himself. In the Psalms, David confessed: “You, Lord, have helped me and comforted me.” Help and comfort come together. A bit later in his prophecy, Isaiah will rejoice to say: “Sing, O heavens! Be joyful, O earth! And break out in singing, O mountains! For the Lord has comforted His people, and will have mercy on His afflicted.” It is God who does the comforting, and we are the objects of His comfort. God intervenes where and when no man can help to give comfort or restore hope. And there is no end to the help and comfort the Lord will give!

“Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,” our text says. Literally, the text reads, “Speak to the heart of Jerusalem.” It is the heart that needs to be addressed with comfort, and that is because it is in the heart that sin and all evil resides; it is where the devil does his work. Satan takes great delight in accusing us. But when our hearts agree with the condemnation the Law speaks against them—and they must agree—what help is there? Only a message spoken to the heart will satisfy the need. As St. John said: “If our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things.” And God has not failed to do what needs doing. He has sent a message of comfort. The message, spoken through Isaiah, is that the warfare is over and iniquity is pardoned. There is now peace between God and man: the peace that has come through Jesus Christ, the One promised by Isaiah and all the prophets. Sin is forgiven through Him who bore the sins of all to the cross! And now, as the prophet says, Jerusalem—God’s holy people—“...has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.”

None of us can ever say that we have suffered more than we have sinned. There is only One who ever suffered more than He sinned, and that was because He sinned not at all, and yet suffered for the sins of all. The prophet would have us understand that it is the judgment of God that His people have suffered enough. To be sure, our suffering has not been equal to what we deserve, but in the eyes of God, it has been sufficient to accomplish its purpose. God prefers mercy to judgment; He prefers grace to condemnation. And He will not turn His back on His faithful, however weak, however wounded they may be.

Oddly enough, we are to be comforted by withering grass and fading flowers. The certainty of an end, of death itself, is woven into the very fabric of our lives, despite our efforts to ignore it. But there is something more than death; there is also resurrection and eternity. The God whose breath blasts and withers the grass and flowers also breathes a breath of life that revives and resurrects. The Word of the Gospel, which stands forever, refreshes what has withered and faded.

The Gospel is real comfort, but it is not cheap. It comes to us at the cost of our Savior’s life and blood. That price having been paid, it is eternally true that “iniquity is pardoned.” Sinners parcel out forgiveness in small and ineffective doses. But that is not the way this prophet describes God. God does not work with fractions! He administers forgiveness completely. That is how He gives, and that is how we are to receive it! Our Lord Jesus does not toss a ragged garment at us and tell us to cover up our sins as best we can; the baptismal robe of His righteousness completely covers our sins. No condemnation can sneak in to haunt our conscience.

Who doesn’t have a heart that needs comfort? Who hasn’t been broken under the burden of sin and guilt? Rejoice! “Rejoice in the Lord, always...” St. Paul said. Rejoice that your God rejoices to comfort you with the forgiveness of sins and the certainty of eternal life in His presence, now and forevermore! 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 12/7/22: Midweek of Advent II (Fear Not series)

 As I said last week, it is my delight to be filling in at the dual parish of Immanuel Lutheran in West Point and St. Paul in Wine Hill for their midweek Advent services. We continue on the theme of "Fear Not," the message of the angels to certain individuals in preparation for the coming of the Christ Child. This message, "Do not be afraid," is for us, as well. This week we step back in time about six months from last week's encounter.

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

Fear Not: Zacharias

Luke 1:5-25

 

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

It’s not easy to be faithful when you believe God is ignoring you. Zacharias was a priest, but we all know that clergy are not immune to doubt and fear. He had long asked for a child to be born to him and his wife, Elizabeth, but she was believed to be barren. Nevertheless, Luke tells us that these two descendants of Aaron were “righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless;” their disappointment in childlessness did not make them angry toward God. Instead, they found their contentment in service to Him. So now in old age, Zacharias was chosen by lot to enter into the Temple and burn incense. Not every priest got the honor of serving in the Temple in Jerusalem. There were many priestly divisions and many priests within each division. Even if he wasn't an old man, it was likely the only time he would fulfill this duty, and so it was a day of great joy and awe for him.

The awe would only increase when the angel appeared to Him in the Temple, especially when Gabriel shared the news that Elizabeth would bear a son. A son! Although he and Elizabeth had been praying for this, they were old now. The days for begetting a child had passed. But on this day of joy and awe, when he had been given the honor of burning the incense in the Lord’s house, Zacharias receives a second gift that increased his joy. The Lord has heard his prayer, Gabriel says. They will have a son. And this would not be just any son; this son will be great. He will serve the Lord in the spirit and power of Elijah; He will prepare the way for the Lord.

Well, the news is almost too great for Zacharias. The awe of the Temple, the appearance of an angel, news of a son—“How can this be?” Who can blame him for asking? It all seemed too good to be true. But for his unbelief, he will have to remain silent. His tongue will be held in bondage. For nine long months, while his wife is carrying their son, he will have to carry the words he so longs to speak but will not be able. Zacharias had learned a truth the hard way—a truth that is still as valid today as it was long ago. When God speaks, believe it!

Have we become like Zacharias? When God speaks, are we unwilling to believe what He has to say? Zacharias received the sign of silence. Do we need that sign as well? The Bible is filled with examples of purposeful silence. Elijah heard God in a “still small voice.” The psalmist tells us to “be still” and know that the Lord is God. Jesus took the disciples away to a quiet place to rest.

Our sinfulness rightly moves us to terrified silence. Zacharias was understandably terrified, for Gabriel stands in the presence of God and reflected God’s holiness. The presence of true holiness terrifies all sinners. That means it terrifies all of us. We might try to explain our sin away, but the presence of God's holiness forces us into silence. There is nothing to say.

But God does not leave us in the despair of our guilty silence. He sends His servants to give us words of surprising grace and mercy: “Almighty God in His mercy has given his Son to die for you and for His sake forgives you all your sins. As a called and ordained servant of Christ, and by His authority, I therefore forgive you all your sins…” We are silent in the presence of holiness because we know we are wretched sinners. We know we deserve the condemnation of eternal punishment. Instead, God sent His only Begotten Son into this world to die for us on the cross and so earn the forgiveness of sins for all people. His gracious love should stun us to silence. We don't deserve this. How could I have expected such a thing? God gives us gifts that are truly undeserved. He gives to us the Word of life and salvation.

Like Zacharias, we have God's promise. In addition, we now have Zacharias's story to tell and help us as we hear God's Word. God calls us to believe. The world has heard that call through the voice of the incarnate Son of the Father. The Holy Spirit works faith within us. We have heard His promises again and again. And we know that He is reliable. His Word does what He says it will do. We believe.

Zacharias was given two miraculous signs, and in time, he believed. But the miracles we've seen have been far greater. We know the message of Zacharias’s son, John the Baptist. We know the message and the work of Jesus. We have seen the greatest sign of all: the crucifixion and resurrection of the Messiah. We have seen our sins die with Him. We have daily risen with Him to new life. We hear His voice day after day. We eat His body and drink His blood and are forgiven. We are bound to Him and He to us. In the silence of Advent, God calls us to remember, to believe.

This Advent, and each day, God calls us. He quiets the noise and chaos of our sinful nature, of the world, of temptation, of fear, of the devil, or of any other distraction. He calls us to silence so we can hear Him. As we hear Him, He works forgiveness, life, and salvation in us as His Word works faith in us. Then as His Word works in us, we proclaim that Word. Just as Zacharias did when he sang the Benedictus, we lift our voices in praise of God. Just as Zacharias proclaimed God's salvation to others, so we tell them of the Savior who has come and who will come again. And just as our Lord speaks through Gabriel to Zacharias, our Lord speaks to you; He forgives your sins and says to you, “Do not be afraid!” 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 12/4/22: Second Sunday in Advent

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the sermon video.

The Word Is Present

Romans 15:4-13

 

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

 

Imagine that God promised to be at a certain time and place. He would take questions and give answers about those things important to our daily lives and salvation; He would tell all that He thought we needed to know here and now, all that was good for us to know at this time. There would likely be quite a line, running down the street, and wrapping around the block and more. Even people who had never given much thought to God before would be curious, at least, to hear what He had to say. After all, it’s not every day that one gets to listen to God. Or is it? Hear these words again: “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”

 

Why is it that we would be so eager to listen to Him speak if He were to show up at a shopping mall, for example, and yet we are so slow to attend to His Word in the Holy Scriptures? Why do we hesitate to listen to Him speak through His prophets and apostles, to read His Word and to hear it preached and taught? Why do we believe that God does not give His answers to our questions about those matters of life that are important to us? When was the last time you really dug into God’s Word with the determined expectation of hearing God speak there, of framing your life within its light, of finding His encouragement in the midst of the obstacles of life, His admonition with respect to your spiritual failures, His counsel for your strained relationships, His remedy for your sin? Why don’t you give it the attention you would give Him if He were standing here before you?

 

In just a short time, we will again listen as angels and shepherds find the infant God wrapped in swaddling clothes, resting in a manger—begotten of the Father from eternity but now born as Man in time. In heart and mind we will go to Bethlehem, seeking Him like the simple shepherds. We will find Jesus—and not just anywhere, but where He has said He will be found. And through the preaching and teaching of His Word, we should have no problem figuring where that is, for He is right here before us, already in this Advent season, wrapped not in swaddling clothes, but in the promises of God; resting not in a manger, but in His Word and blessed Sacrament. And yet, perhaps we should consider—what will we receive with more interest: the problems of an economy that seems unwilling to shake off its lethargy, or the promise of God to abide with and bless His people? The fears of an ever darkening world, or God’s promise, enshrined in His Word, that He will deliver His faithful people from all such fears?

God has delivered the entire feast of His Word to us. Why should we deprive ourselves of all the nourishment He would give us? Hear those words again: “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”

We are in the season of Advent, the season of watchfulness and preparation, the season of making straight the way of the Lord, of making ready our hearts to receive Him. And while lighting candles and putting out a wreath provide wonderful symbols and teaching tools for this season of the Church Year, ultimately the best and surest way to realize the purpose of Scripture is no more complicated than opening up your Bible and reading it; listening to the Word while that one God has sent for that purpose opens it up and gives us insight into it. We are children of God through faith in Jesus Christ, which means that we have been given birth through the Word of God: joined with the water of Holy Baptism, proclaimed to us in Holy Absolution, fed to us in the holy body and blood of Jesus received for the remission of sins.

The question that confronts us—not just in Advent, but always—is whether or not any of this matters. Does it really matter that Jesus came in the flesh? Does it really matter to us that Jesus is returning soon? If it does, then preparation is important, and now is the time to be prepared to receive Him when He returns. And God has given us His Word for that preparation so that, through diligent and faithful contemplation of that Word, through the daily return to our baptism, we will be ready when that day arrives.

 

No, God is not going to show up at the Carbondale mall to field our questions and instruct us, but that doesn’t mean He isn’t here for that purpose. He is no further away from us than His Holy Word and Sacrament. Jesus was born to die for your sins. As those forgiven through His birth, death, and resurrection, be eager to hear Him this Advent. Listen to Him as you would listen if He were standing before you…because He is present, right now: Jesus Christ, wrapped and resting in His 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.

Sermon for 11/30/22: Midweek of Advent I (Fear Not series)

With the pastoral vacancy at St. Paul Lutheran Church in Wine Hill (Steeleville) and Immanuel Lutheran in West Point (Campbell Hill), and with my congregations not having Advent midweek services, I've been asked to fill in at St. Paul and Immanuel for their Advent midweek services. I am preaching on the "Fear Not" messages of the Advent season: how the angels speak to Mary, Zacharias, Joseph, and the Shepherds regarding the coming of the Christ child. My apologies for the delay in posting this.

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

Fear Not: Mary

Luke 1:26-38

 

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

 

An angel appeared to Mary. It sounds so commonplace to us. “Oh, an angel. How nice. Ho hum.” When we think of angels, we probably think of those adorable little angel figurines with fat cheeks; maybe, if we’re old enough, we think of Michael Landon or Roma Downey and Della Reese. But this was no cutesy, chubby little cherub standing in front of Mary, no mild mannered, soft-spoken guardian in a sweater vest. This is a divine messenger from God, a being who reflects the holiness and righteousness of God. Some accounts count Gabriel among the archangels. A mere human standing before such a being would certainly have reason to be afraid—much like when a police officer, or maybe even 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, which is exceptional enough. But what about that news? “Mary, I know you’re a virgin, but you’re gonna have a baby. Oh, and it’s by the Holy Spirit.” How overwhelming is it to hear that you’ll be part of the fulfillment of the most important prophecies ever? You may recall that Isaiah said to King Ahaz, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel.” You may even recall what God said to the satanic serpent: “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 crush the head of the serpent. And Mary—sweet, virginal, innocent Mary—was chosen by God to be the Mother of God.

And that’s what so troubling to Mary. 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 us 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 just before the Child was born. Later, she would run through the streets of Jerusalem looking for the Child who had wandered away from her to be in “His Father’s house.” Finally, she would stand at the foot of the cross upon which her Son would hang, weeping as she watched Him die. 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 Messiah—but everyone has difficulties. No matter your vocation—father or mother, son or daughter, boss or worker, teacher or student, pastor or layperson, and all the rest—the Lord has given you tasks, and each one carries its own troubles, especially when you try to live according to your faith. Very little is sure.

But the one thing you can be sure of is this: the Lord is with you. And this is not some wishful thinking 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. 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 whatever it is that you face in your life, whatever the challenge, know this: the Lord is with you. “Do not be afraid!” 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 11/27/22: First Sunday in Advent

 CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the sermon video.

Misplaced Trust
Jeremiah 23:5-8

 

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

 

 

The Kingdom of Judah, through its heritage as an offshoot of Israel, began as a “theocracy.” Though both Israel and Judah had kings, the church was still the state, in a sense, and the state was the Church. Political leaders also served a spiritual purpose; they were to protect the nation from which Messiah would come. But they had not faithfully done what God had given them to do. These leaders were unfaithful stewards. Many of them had actively advocated the worship of pagan gods. And instead of trusting the Lord, they put their trust in alliances with neighboring nations, to protect them from their enemies. In the end, it was a first commandment issue; who did they really trust? And if that was not bad enough, the nation as a whole had done the same thing. Yes, there was a faithful remnant. There always is; that’s the promise of God. But warning after warning had fallen on increasingly deaf ears. God had told them what the consequences of their lack of trust in Him would be. And that was why Jeremiah saw what was left of a nation, groveling in the dust. Never again would Israel, as a nation, rise to the heights they had once known. David had put the lesson they needed to learn very simply in one of his Psalms: “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”

Is there something here for us in the experience of Judah and Jeremiah? Do we have issues with misplaced trust? There has always been in American history a kind of Messianic hope: the idea that America serves some godly purpose beyond other nations of the world. It’s almost a modern day continuation of the theocracy of Old Testament Israel. This probably stems from the Puritan and Reformed theology of many of the nation’s first citizens, who came to a new land with the belief that it was God’s will that they establish the Kingdom of God on earth. Never mind the fact that Jesus and the New Testament both assert that there is no such earth-bound kingdom. As Jesus told Pontius Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.”

Have we inherited a misplaced trust in the political and social structures that surround us? Are we waiting for the next big political election to solve our problems? Are we placing our hope in the next decision handed down from the Supreme Court? Is that where we put our trust? And if we know better than to put our trust in these mortal authorities, does that mean that we should just ignore what is going on around us? Of course it doesn’t. We are still our brother’s keeper. We Christians are living in two worlds at once, balancing precariously. Though this world is passing away, it is still our responsibility to do what we can, under God’s Word, to bring a godly influence to the workings of this world.

Instead of mortal princes, we must seek out and put our trust that One who came riding into Jerusalem, the One proclaimed as King, the One whom Jeremiah in our text calls “The Lord our righteousness.” He was King of the Jews, to be sure, but He did not enter His city to establish an earthly kingdom. Jesus was, and is, King of the Jews, but only in the way of the Gospel. As St. Paul tells us in His Epistle to the Romans, true Israel consists of all those, both Jews and Gentiles, who follow and belong to Christ by faith in His work of salvation. Jesus is King of an Israel of faith, not of place or space.

And this, then, is how we must see this One whom Jeremiah presents to us. When Jesus entered Jerusalem that day, it was the fulfillment of all the promises that had been made to David and his kingly descendants. Since all of Judah’s kings had failed, the Lord Himself would step in, not merely as king, but, above all, as Savior. This branch of David, of whom Jeremiah prophesied, would be righteous in every way. He Himself would be righteousness, and so He would rule righteously. He would supply the righteousness before God which we all lack. Here the whole Gospel, the whole message of Scripture, is summed up in a few glorious words: “The Lord our righteousness.” But for that to be true, the Lord Himself must have become one of us, having taken all that we are upon Himself.

These words point us to Advent’s great focus: the miracle of the Incarnation, the Word made flesh. They point to this most comforting truth: through His perfect obedience, suffering, and death, the Messiah has won for us reconciliation with God and the forgiveness of sins. What He is and what He has done—all of that is for us. He has given us righteousness which we could never have gained for ourselves. Here is the door that opens heaven and keeps it open: “the Lord our righteousness.” What He did, He did for us. He has made us His own. This is our sure and certain hope.

Have you misplaced your trust? Is it in men or nations, in political systems or social structures? Are you seeking a Messiah from among men to redeem you from the evil of this world? Wait no longer. He has come, and He is here. Place your trust where it must be placed: in Jesus Christ, “the Lord our righteousness,” who loved you and gave Himself for you. 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.