HYMN: Exult, O Saints, in Christ the Lord

I’ve been writing hymn texts for about 15 years now. There are times when they seem to pour out of me, and I can write six in a week. And there are times when I haven’t written one in months and I begin to think I’m never going to write another. I haven’t written many since September of 2022–obviously that was an enormous turning point in life—and the move to a new location and the start of a new position with a new congregation hasn’t made that any easier.

But then I started reading a book this week called The Joy of Eternal Life by Philipp Nicolai, translated by Matthew Carver. If the Nicolai name sounds familiar, it’s because he is one of the greatest hymn writers ever. He was not prolific, but what he lacked in quantity he made up for in quality. “Wake, Awake, for Night Is Flying” (LSB 516) is the quintessential End Times hymn, recounting our Lord’s parable of the wise and foolish virgins in Matthew 25:1-13. And “O Morning Star, How Fair and Bright” (LSB 395) is a wonderful Epiphany text which also points us to the resurrection at the Last Day. Anyway, this book discusses “what eternal life is and how Christians are made ready for it” (from the back cover). So far I’ve only made it through the introduction, but even that was enough to inspire me to write. 

So here is a text based on Nicolai’s introduction. It started as a Long Meter Double text, but there are only three LMD hymns in Lutheran Service Book, and I’ve already used the one I like once, and I’d prefer not to do that again unless I have to. So I divided the stanzas in half with a little editing, and I made it into a Long Meter text, set to the tune DEUS TUORUM MILITUM, which is used in Lutheran Service Book for “From God the Father, Virgin Born” (LSB 401). If anyone wants to write an original tune, either LM or LMD, I won’t argue. *wink* As always, feedback is love.

Exult, O Saints, in Christ the Lord

1. Exult, O saints, in Christ the Lord

Who won for us the great reward

Of life eternal. We shall stand

Within the glorious fatherland.

2. There we shall see with endless joy

The One whose blood did death destroy,

The One who crushed the serpents head

To raise the blessed and holy dead.

3. Our God will banish all our fears

And wipe away all anguished tears.

And joyful song for each complaint

Shall spring from every gladdened saint

4. In New Jerusalem we’ll dwell 

With Jesus, our Immanuel.

The angels there shall call us “blessed”

Who find in Christ our endless rest.

5. The Lord our God will surely come

To bring His faithful children home.

He hears our moaning, sighing prayer

As we our griefs and burdens bear.

6. What we must suffer for a time

Cannot compare with bliss sublime

Which soon will be revealed in us:

Deliverance most glorious.

7. O Satan, world, and trials, begone!

Our Savior, Jesus Christ, has won!

For us His holy blood was shed,

And we shall rise, the faithful dead.

8. O wondrous life, for us prepared

Who in the tribulation dared

To cling to Christ with every breath,

By faith to struggle unto death.

9. Rejoice, O earth! Be glad and sing

To Christ, our risen Savior King!

In You is perfect grace revealed.

By You are heaven’s gates unsealed.

10. Your name is ours; Your righteousness

Is now our spotless, radiant dress.

Bring us to our eternal home.

We pray, Lord Jesus, quickly come!

LM (88 88)

DEUS TUORUM MILITUM (LSB 401)

Eternal Life; End Times; Tribulation

Sermon for 2/28/24: Lent Midweek 2 (Psalm 22 series)

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the service video.

The Worm of God
Psalm 22:6-11

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

We have all sorts of names and descriptions for the Second Person of the Holy Trinity: Jesus, the Christ, Immanuel, the Son of God, Son of David, Son of Man, Redeemer, Savior, Lord, and many others. We also have any number of pictures of Christ: the brown-haired, fair-skinned young man with the well-trimmed beard who looks like someone we’d want our daughters to bring home to meet us; the ferocious Lion of Judah; the butterfly; the adorably meek Lamb of God. But our text speaks of Christ in a different way.

          Last week, we were reminded that, to understand a Biblical text, we must first ask the question: “What does it say about Christ?” So…what does this passage say about Christ? Maybe the more appropriate question here is: What does Christ say about Himself in this passage? It’s not our pretty picture of Him—not even close. You’re not going to see beautiful paintings or drawings depicting our Lord this way, for the Son of God calls Himself a worm.

          Why would Jesus call Himself a worm? Well, maybe to answer that, we should look at what a worm is. Worms are generally slimy little creatures that look a little like snakes. They usually live under rocks or in the soil. And they are weak: weak and helpless. Children cut them in half to see if they really do become two worms. People step on them without even noticing. Prospective fishermen dig them up by the can-full to use them as bait, shoving hooks through them. Easy to see how the Lord could think of Himself as a worm, right?

          The sad thing is that it’s all too easy for us to see the Lord as a worm. We treat Him that way. We grudgingly give Him “one bitter hour” each week, as if the words of the hymn are a timer to limit the length of the Divine Service. We disregard our worship of Him and our obedience to His commands when it suits us. We use His name in vain as a curse against our neighbors and the rest of His creation. We give Him what we have left as an offering instead of designating the first fruits of our labors. You might remember the old spiritual where the singer asks, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” Well, when they nailed Jesus to the cross, laughed at Him and spat on Him, we were there, laughing and spitting on Him, making jokes about His pain, driving in the nails all the deeper. To us, He is a worm. And just like we treat any other worm, we killed Him. And we don’t even care. It’s just a worm. It’s just our Savior.

          What a contrast between the mighty “I AM” who delivered Israel from slavery in Egypt on the one hand and “I am a worm” on the other. But this is a true confession of the Second Article of the Creed. Being so far above men, Jesus became a Man, and He was treated as the lowest of men. Our Lord Jesus Christ, who as God was deserving of all praise and glory, received as a Man all the scorn and hatred mankind could produce. With those tormenting the Psalmist, we shout at our Savior: “He trusts in the Lord; let Him deliver Him; let Him rescue Him, for He delights in Him!” The truth is, the Father indeed does delight in His Son. He delighted in Him, and yet the Father let Him be crucified. And for what? The very people who condemned Christ were the ones who benefited from His agony.

          Jesus called Himself a worm. He became a worm, but He was a worm for our sake. The condition that made Him worthy of scorn was our sins heaped upon Him. This Worm’s filth and slime was the filth and slime He took upon Himself so that we would not be buried under it. He let Himself be mocked, beaten, and killed so that Satan would not have us to mock and torture in eternal death. He suffered all of the Father’s wrath against sin so that we would enjoy eternal life in the presence of our God.

          Think again of the purpose of a worm in the hands of a fisherman. Lancelot Andrewes, an Anglican theologian and preacher, described it this way:

A fisherman, when he casts his angle into the river, does not throw the hook in bare, naked, and uncovered, for then he knows the fish will never bite; and therefore he hides the hook within a worm, or some other bai; and so the fish, biting at the worm, is caught by the hook. This Christ, speaking of Himself, says, “I am a worm, and no man.” He, coming to perform the great work of our redemption, did cover and hide His Godhead within the worm of the human nature. The grand water-serpent, Leviathan, the devil, thinking to swallow the worm of [Christ’s] humanity, was caught upon the hook of His divinity. This hook stuck in his jaws and tore him very sore. By thinking to destroy Christ, he destroyed his own kingdom and lost his power for ever.

Our Lord Jesus Christ, the almighty Son of God by whom all things were made, became a worm. And as a worm brings the fish into the boat, our Lord gathers all the faithful into the boat, this holy Ark which is His Church. Thanks be to God, for the Son’s humiliation lifts us up, bringing us into eternal life. In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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

 

Sermon for 2/21/24: Midweek Lent 1 (Psalm 22 series)

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the service video.

God in Hiding

Psalm 22:1-5

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

The words of the Benediction which we hear Sunday after Sunday are a great comfort to us. “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face shine on you and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.” While it may be triggering to those who live in unbelief, the fact that God rests His face upon us is pure joy to the Christian, for we know that the face of God is our Lord Jesus Christ. When we see Jesus, we have seen the face of our heavenly Father in all His grace and love; He is directing all His favor and good will toward us. So what must the opposite of this be? What does it mean when God turns His face away? Or, in the terms of our text, what must it mean to be forsaken by God? Our Lord Jesus knew, for He had reason to ask, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”

The Psalms speak of Jesus. To rightly understand any text in Scripture, we must first ask, “What does this say about Jesus?” Of the entire Psalter, Psalm 22 is perhaps the most descriptive because it prophesies the Messiah’s suffering and death, the means by which He won the victory over sin, death, and the power of the devil. During these midweek gatherings, we will look at this Psalm in its entirety to see how this is so. In the section set aside for this evening, we consider in particular the words our Lord Jesus spoke from the cross: “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”

We have likely all felt what it is to be forsaken…or if you haven’t, it is more than likely that you will have the experience at some point in your life. Death will separate you from a loved one. Your father or mother will be gone, unable to help you. A friend or coworker will betray you. All of us have had experiences similar to what Jesus experienced. But no one has experienced forsakenness like Jesus did, for He suffered being forsaken in a way far greater than any mere mortal has experienced: The Son of God, who exists in perfect union with the Father, was forsaken by the Father.

And like Jesus Himself, we must ask that all-important question: WHY? Just a few weeks ago at the Transfiguration, we heard the Father proclaim, “This is my beloved Son.” What has changed? Why was Jesus forsaken by the heavenly Father? How could God the Father forsake His Son? To understand how this can be, we must first understand that, from the time of His conception in Mary by the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus is at the same time True God and True Man. Jesus, true Man, performed miracles and even rose from the dead. Jesus, true God, suffered and died. What this means is that Jesus Christ, who is from eternity, the One by whom all things were made, the One who is sinless and perfect and holy, was at the same time the single greatest sinner the world has ever known. This is true, not because He ever committed any sin of His own, but because He so completely identified with the human race that He took upon Himself the sin that saturates humanity. As St. Paul wrote in his Second Letter to the Corinthians, “For our sake, [God] made Him to be sin who knew no sin…” Because Jesus took on every sin ever committed by any person who ever lived, His cry was not merely a symbol; it was a cry of deepest anguish, for the sinless Son of God bore in His flesh the full punishment which every sinner of all times and all places deserved: He was completely forsaken by His Father. He who is God Himself was bearing the torment of hell—for what else is hell than to be completely separated from the Father?

When His Son cried out from the cross, the Father went into hiding. He would not show Himself even to His own Son, for the righteous God cannot abide the presence of sin. It is here above all else that Jesus stands in our place. He was forsaken so that we would never have to know the forsakenness of God. The torment of hell assaulted Him so that we would never need to know that experience for ourselves. The hidden God is to us the God of greatest blessing, for He hid Himself so that He might save us!

In fact, this is something He still does. God continues to hide Himself from us. Though forgiven of sin, we are yet sinners, and sinners cannot bear the glorious presence of God. So God continues to hide Himself from us. But this is no longer a sign of His wrath or displeasure, as it was at the cross. Instead it is a sure sign of His desire to bless us because of the cross. He hides Himself in simple water, so that, when it is combined with the Word of God, that water eternally cleanses our souls, making us spotless so that we may stand in righteousness before Him. He conceals the very body and blood of Jesus, given and shed for the forgiveness of sins, in and under mere bread and wine. He even hides behind the voice of His called servant who speaks the holy word of forgiveness to us, as we confess in the Small Catechism, speaking with us through the voice of our pastors “as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself.”

So it is that the words that close out this portion of Psalm 22 become our joyful confession: “In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame.” God hid Himself from us to save us. That He does so is our joy and delight, our great eternal reward. In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

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

Sermon for 2/14/24: Ash Wednesday

CLICK HERE for the sermon audio.

CLICK HERE for the service video.

The Joy of Lent
Psalm 51:1-13

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

We have come to Ash Wednesday, the doorway into the season of Lent. We set aside our song of praise for the next forty days and begin a time of prayerful and penitential reflection as we walk with our Lord Jesus Christ to His cross and Passion. Lent seems like a roller coaster for the Christian Church. We’ve just come down from the literal mountaintop of the Transfiguration, and today we are given pointed reminder of our sinfulness. Palm Sunday will come along, and we will see our Lord acclaimed as the Son of David and the King who comes in the Name of the Lord. And then, days later, we will see Him arrested by the soldiers of the Chief Priest, put on trial by both King Herod and Pontius Pilate, and finally crucified. Throughout this wild ride, I urge you to pray and reflect on the goodness and tender mercies of the Lord.

Psalm 51 is an appropriate place to start our Lenten journey. This Psalm is a prayer of King David, a man who knew full well the goodness and mercy of the Lord. We don’t know exactly what David was experiencing as he wrote most of his Psalms, but the ascription for this Psalm clearly states that he wrote it “when Nathan the prophet came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.” It was a spiritual low point for David. God had blessed him so richly, and yet that wasn’t enough for him. He committed adultery with Bathsheba, and then he contrived to have Bathsheba’s husband killed so he could take her legally as his wife.

God sent His prophet, Nathan, to preach the Law to the king. The Lord declared through Nathan, “I will raise up adversity against you from your own house; and I will take your wives before your eyes and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of this sun.” He goes on to say, “The Lord also has put away your sin; you shall not die. However, because by this deed you have given great occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, the child also who is born to you shall surely die.” And the Lord’s words would be proven true. David would know little peace in his reign, including having to put down a rebellion led by his own son, Absolom. And as the Lord declared, the infant child born to David and Bathsheba died. In his grief for his dead son and in sorrow for his own sin, David cried the words of this Psalm to the Lord.

When we sin against our fellow man, sometimes we get away with it, at least in that we do not get caught by our neighbors. But our God sees and knows all that we do, and, as we learn in the Commandments, all sin is sin against God. When He calls us to task, all we can do, as David did, is confess our sins, cry out to the Lord, throw ourselves on His mercy, and then rely on that mercy. Listen again to David’s words:

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin! For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.

Repentance and confession: This is the wisdom that David seeks in verse 6, the wisdom to repent, to beg for mercy and forgiveness, and to know that God grants that forgiveness. “Have mercy on me, O God.” In writing about this Psalm, Father Luther said, “It is as though he were saying, ‘I know that I am evil and that I am a sinner, and that You are righteous. I know that You are the God of our fathers, who has promised that You will redeem sinners.’” He has made that promise to us. And more than that, God has made good on that promise. No sin is too wicked for God to forgive. And for the sake of Jesus Christ, every sin is forgiven.

This Lenten season is not just about some historic event. The promise that God made to David and to David’s fathers was fulfilled in Jesus Christ, the One who took our sins upon the cross with Him. We remember His death, and we remember and rejoice in the life He won for us upon the cross. David’s prayer was heard and answered in the person of Jesus Christ. And as the Lord showed mercy to David, in the same way He shows mercy to you. You are washed in your Baptism; you are clothed in the gleaming robes of our Lord’s righteousness, made whiter than snow in those bloody waters. There He has created a new heart for you; He has renewed that right spirit within you. He took your spirit that was sinful upon Himself, and He gave His sinless spirit to you. He did not cast you away from His presence; in fact, He promised to be with you always. According to His steadfast love, God has had mercy upon you. The Holy Supper that you are given and receive heals the bones of which David speaks, the bones that are broken in sin. The bones are healed; your sins are forgiven. You are assured of that when your Pastor, standing in the stead of Christ and speaking by His command, says to you, “I forgive you all sins.” With these words, our Lord has restored to you the joy of salvation. And there is no greater joy for sinners than to hear the truth that our loving Lord forgives you. In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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

Go Northwest, Middle-Aged Man

Something different for post 1,200…

There’s an old saying: “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” As I sit in my new study at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Marion, Iowa, I can tell you for a fact that I’ve made God laugh a lot lately. 

At some point in the last six months or so, I had a phone call from a congregation in Iowa, asking if I’d be willing to interview for the position of Associate Pastor for their congregation. It was not the first such phone call I’d received in 2023, nor was it the last. I didn’t think very much about it. In over 13 years as a pastor in Southern Illinois, no congregation had interviewed me and then asked me to be their pastor. We had our phone interview, which seemed to go okay—I’m a horrible judge of such things. Time went by, and I was interviewed by yet more congregations. In the meantime, Faith and I were digging in for the long haul in Southern Illinois. And God started laughing.

And then, right around Thanksgiving, I received the phone call I was not expecting: the Circuit Visitor from St. Paul’s Circuit in Iowa District East was calling to let me know that St. Paul’s was extending to me the Divine Call to serve as their Associate Pastor. Now, as I said, I had no plans on going anywhere; Faith and I were making our plans to secure our future in Campbell Hill. But when a pastor receives a Call, unless he has a very good reason to decline immediately, it is his duty to give the Call his prayerful consideration. We all know I'm a faithful son of the LCMS, so, even though I had no intention of going anywhere, of course I would consider the Call I received. This being an associate pastor position, and knowing how things went with my previous position as an associate pastor, I couldn't just look at the paperwork and make my decision. I had to meet the senior pastor, discuss our roles, try to determine if we'd be able to work well together. So Faith, Molly, and I went to Marion in the middle of a December week to visit the church and meet the pastor. And as we traveled, we still thought this would be merely a courtesy visit, because we had no intention of going anywhere. And God laughed even harder. 

I had a phone call with the District President. I had hoped he'd be a jerk to me, or insist that I take personality profile tests (as other DPs had in the past), or do something else that would make the decision to say “no” the obvious one. He was kind, spoke well of the congregation and senior pastor, spoke well of my own DP, and left a very good impression on me. So I hoped the senior pastor would be a jerk, or sound like he intended me to be his yes-man, or that he would be theologically incompatible with me. He was not; it seemed our personalities would work well together, that he would view me as an equal partner in ministry. So we hoped the congregation would be unwelcoming, that they would have practices so objectionable that saying “no” would come naturally. None of that was the case. They welcomed us warmly, and nothing jumped out at me that said, “This church will take one look at your teaching and practice and seek to get rid of you.”

So we had a hard decision to make: Do we stay where we've been loved so thoroughly, where we've put down roots and have become comfortable personally and professionally, where we've come to call home? Or do we head to Iowa and take up new challenges, make a new home? Every piece of information we received seemed like the Lord smacking me over the head and saying, “It's time to go.” So with heavy hearts we announced to my congregations in Southern Illinois that I was accepting the Call. It was a tearful day, made doubly so by having to make the announcement twice. 

So we began to pack the house and my two studies. It was a tedious process (and there is still more being done as I type this). When all was said and done, we had packed a twenty-six foot truck with entirely too many boxes along with furniture and other items. 

And it finally became time to say our farewells. I preached my last sermon, distributed the Sacrament one last time for both congregations, and then they banded together to hold a farewell party for us. There was laughter and tears; there were stories and hugs; there was, of course, a lot of delicious food. 

And then we drove away. It was extremely difficult for any number of reasons, but it was time to go. We made the six-hour drive to Marion, Iowa, which is right next to Cedar Rapids. Faith had secured housing for us in Cedar Rapids, and so we began to unload the moving truck and started to move things into at least temporary places. It will be a long process to get everything where we want it both at the house and in my study. In the meantime, we started meeting members of the congregation, finding our way around Cedar Rapids, and began the seemingly impossible task of making a home for ourselves like we had in Campbell Hill. Yeah, I know: “Trust in the Lord.” I don't know about you, but I'm a sinner; that trust thing doesn't come easy for me.

 

Finally came the day of the Installation. Pastors from near and far came to participate, and President Saunders from the Iowa District East office came to officiate. My Senior Pastor, Andrew Noble, preached a lovely sermon. And then I became, officially, the Associate Pastor of St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Marion, Iowa. 

And the work begins. I preach my first sermon this evening for the Ash Wednesday Divine Service. And I make my first shut-in visits on Friday. It's going to be strange learning a while new congregation, but it's good work, and the Lord will bless it.

Thank you to the members of St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill and Bethel Lutheran Church in Du Quoin, Illinois, for so wonderfully demonstrating the love of Christ to the Kornacki family for the past 13 years and more, for being the kind of place where a pastor would want to stay for the long haul. You continue to be in my prayers and in my heart. God will continue to provide for you.

Thank you to the members of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Marion, Iowa, for daring to believe that I would be a good fit to serve with you and Pastor Noble. Thank you, Pastor Noble, for being the kind of man I want to serve with. Thank you to all the pastors who came to participate in my Installation. I look forward to serving with all of you, pastors and congregation, for as long as the Lord keeps us together.

Thank you to Faith, my beloved, and dear Molly, for daring to take this new path on our road together. God is good, and He will continue to sustain us through whatever comes next. Thank you to Alexis, who we leave behind in Illinois, for your continued love and support. Thank you to Kathy and Deborah, our mothers, who have visited with and helped us during this time of transition.

As Mario says, “Here we gooooooooo…”