Lyrics: Daddy

It’s been over a week now since Dad died. We’ve had the service and the get-togethers. I’m back in Southern Illinois now, back to work. I miss him, but I’ve missed him a lot over the past few years, with Covid making travel a troublesome proposition. It almost doesn’t feel real, as if the phone is going to ring and he’s going to ask me about my day. 

I haven’t lost it yet. Maybe I won’t lose it. I mean, I know he’s at rest. I know he’s no longer in pain. I know that he died in the faith. So maybe I won’t break down over this. Maybe I’ve already reached acceptance. And maybe I’m full of…it, and the damn will burst at the most inopportune time. 

Yeah, that’s far more likely.

A while back, after listening to “Like a River” by Carly Simon—her tribute to her deceased mother—I wrote something I’d intended to be a song. I even have a melody in mind, though God knows I don’t have the instrumental ability to ever fully set it to music. Dad wasn’t dead when I wrote it; he wasn’t even seriously ill, though he had no longer had the vitality he once did. The thing is, he knew I loved him. He knew how important a place he held in my life. Still, having buried people important to me, I didn’t know if I’d get the chance to say the things I wanted to say to him before the end. As it happens, I think having written these words helped me to accept what was before my eyes as I watched my father breathe his last in the hospital. It was as if things had come full circle. I think you’ll see what I mean. But the last few lines were all but prophetic. 

I share it here to honor him, to share my love for him. It’s called “Daddy.”

Daddy

The lights are off and I'm in bed. 

The wheels are spinning in my head.

I know it's late. I should be counting sheep. 

Although you've been at work all day,

You kneel beside my bed and pray

And read to me until I fall asleep. 

Oh, Daddy, just one more!

I love you! Stay and read to me!

I love these stolen moments in the night. 

Can you believe it? She said yes!

She's stunning in her veil and dress. 

I'm shaking as she's walking down the aisle. 

You stand with me as my Best Man. 

You pat my shoulder with your hand 

And calm my anxious thoughts with just a smile.

Look, Daddy! There she is!

And thanks, old man, for teaching me

To be a husband worthy of my bride

I watch you as you're lying there. 

I sit nearby and stroke your hair. 

They say your pain is just about to end. 

I know the rest that waits for you--

"Well done, thou servant faithful, true"--

But how to say goodbye to my best friend?

Oh, Daddy, please, don't go! 

I love you! Stay! I need you still! 

I'll stay with you until you fall asleep. 

(c) 2022

In Memoriam: Borrowed Words for Dad

He lives and grants me daily breath.
He lives and I shall conquer death.

Dad’s funeral was today. My dad, Al Kornacki, died on Saturday, February 19. Of course it has been a difficult few days, between watching him struggle for each breath and then watching him take his last breath, planning his funeral, starting the process of going through his possessions, and then the finality of the funeral today. 

Whether or not you know who your father is, whatever kind of relationship you had with him—if, indeed, you had a relationship with him—you know what a father is; you have some idea of what a father should be to his children. I’ve had a father/son relationship with a number of men. I buried one of them in 2020, at the death of my vicarage bishop, Kim Scharff. At the time of his passing, I had many words to say to honor him; some of them might even have been eloquent. But for my biological father, the best man at my wedding? It’s too soon, maybe, and I’m too close. For my vicarage bishop, the kids had already lost their mother earlier in the year, and I was there to be the older brother none of them had growing up; that helped me keep some part of myself functional. For my own father? I don’t know what to say. 

Fortunately for me, a number of people have shared their memories of my father. He was a man who touched many in our community over a period of 60 years. He coached baseball teams for thirty years, from the time he was 16. He ran the Alternative Learning Center—in-school suspension, better known as “Al’s Little Corner”—for twenty years. He was in charge of the city’s Youth Center for decades. 

I like to joke that I have thousands of brothers and sisters, but in a very real sense, he was a surrogate father for a generation and more of North Tonawanda’s children. Whether it was on the website of his obituary, the family or recreation department Facebook posts announcing his death, or at the funeral home visitation, hundreds of people shared stories about how “Big Al” made a difference in their lives. He loved all the kids he worked with over the years, but he had a special place in his heart for the kids no one else seemed to want. In every aspect of his life, it was the troubled and trouble-making kids he seemed drawn to. So when I say I don’t have the words, I can borrow some from my many brothers and sisters. I hope they don’t mind.

• I wouldn’t be the man I am today without having met “Big Al.”
• Mr. Kornacki was a great man with a big heart and a great presence… When he spoke, we all listened!
• I remember him from school and the youth center... tough but very lovable...
• Al always took time out to learn more about each kid because he cared about everyone.  He'd pull you in his office and ask you how you are, how's your family, how is school going, etc.  He genuinely cared about people…
• He was there for me when my father passed when I was a kid. He always had the biggest heart!
• He was the guy we all went to when nobody else was around.
• Thanks for your patience when I needed it the most.
• Kids who didn't have much respect for adults or authority always seemed to treat Al as their confidant and someone who respected them. I was one of those kids back then. Al certainly helped me to see that I was on a path that could have been destructive. He never gave up and he was always positive and I and many other people owe him a debt of gratitude for his kindness.
• Thank you Al for believing in me and never giving up. I know I was a pain in the neck, but you saw and understood my struggle. I will forever be grateful for your kind heart and wisdom.

That’s the kind of man my dad was. Is. He affected every life he touched, and he tried to touch as many lives as possible. 

And that’s because of his faith in Jesus Christ. As Pastor Eder said at the funeral, “Al was a big man with a big faith.” My dad knew he was a beloved, baptized, forgiven child of God. His heavenly Father touched every aspect of his life. The love my dad received from God, he gave away to all his kids. And God just kept giving him more and more. That’s the kind of love I endeavor to share as a father, a husband, a pastor…a man. When I grow up, I want to be like my dad.

I’m fortunate that I will see my father every day when I look in the mirror. I’m blessed that I will be reunited with him every time I receive the Lord’s Supper with him, where we gather “with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven.” And I am looking forward to the Day when we will be forever reunited in the resurrection of all flesh. 

As he delighted to sing in the words of his favorite hymn:

Children of God,

Dying and rising,

Sing to the Lord a new song!

Heaven and earth,

Hosts everlasting,

Sing to the Lord a new song!

He has done marvelous things.  

I too will praise Him with a new song!

Sermon for 2/13/22: Septuagesima

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Training for the Crown

I Corinthians 9:24-10:5

 

 

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

 

 

When St. Paul spoke of competing in a race and running for a prize, the Corinthians understood exactly what he was saying. You see, every three years, the city of Corinth was host to the Isthmian Games, similar to the ancient Olympic games. Athletes from all around the Mediterranean area would train long and hard so they could compete in a race where the prize was nothing more than a pine wreath. It seems as though it wasn’t always the value of the prize that mattered so much as being able to say with pride that you had won the competition over all the others.

But Paul had something more in mind than this athletic contest. That race served merely as a foil for something of greater, even eternal significance. You and I are running a race of our own. But the prize we are seeking is not perishable! The race we are running is not where the prize is the best car, or the best house, or the best whatever. We are running for an imperishable prize. The prize is life: life now and life eternally!

Is there anything more precious than life? In his Epistle, James writes: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love Him.” The life for which we are running is one that has been given to us: a gift of God. It was won for us by Jesus Christ, who ran His own race through the cross and the tomb to win a prize called the Church. And now, the race is ours to run. And the prize that awaits us at the end of the race is that sure and certain hope of life eternal. And there will not be merely one victor, as in those ancient games; the victory is given equally to all who complete the race in faith.

But to complete the race requires training. Certainly this was true of the athletes who competed in those games long ago, just as it is true of the Olympians now. The only ones who are ultimately successful are those for whom training is ongoing reality. Whether it’s an Olympic race or the rigors of a full season of basketball, what is demanded is all the energy that can be given. And that energy comes as the direct result of training. The best trained will ultimately win.

The same is true of the race of life you and I are running. We must train our spiritual muscles, if you will. The race we are running is exhausting. For one thing, it is longer than any marathon, longer than any sports season or even an entire career. It is a race that lasts the length of a whole life. And, frankly, there aren’t many places along the way to rest. But even more than that, there are innumerable obstacles we will encounter along that path. St. Peter describes those obstacles in this way: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith...” Being humbled at the good and gracious hand of our God; acknowledging our weakness before the many troubles of life; realizing that the devil will stop at nothing to end our participation in the race of life—we may expect to face these and even more obstacles along the way.

And only rigorous training will prepare us for this. You have heard the following truism: “No pain, no gain.” And, as painful as that may be, it is true! That includes the pain we encounter in spiritual training. In his epistle to the Colossians, St. Paul wrote: “Put to death what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry...Now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices.” Putting such things to death is painful because, the truth is, these are things we actually enjoy. Just as the athlete might desire a quart of ice cream or a pizza, our sinful natures enjoy being tempted with sensuality. We get a good deal of pleasure out of expressing such things as anger and wrath. But such indulgences only hinder us in the race we run.

Only rigorous training will put such things to death! In pain there will be gain. God makes us strong through His Word and Sacrament. He makes us strong by leading us to acknowledge our sin and the spiritual weakness sin creates. But He then patches us up with the healing balm of the Gospel, forgiving all our sins, feeding us with the soul-nourishing food of the body and blood of our Savior, cleansing our conscience, and clearing up our spiritual eyes that we might stay on the way that leads to eternal life.

God grant us the strength and perseverance to run the race for life, that we may finally join St. Paul and all the saints of God in rejoicing: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me, but also to all who have loved his appearing.” 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 2/6/22: Transfiguration of Our Lord

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Light in the Darkness

II Peter 1:16-21

 

 

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

 

As we observe the Transfiguration, we are standing at the mid-point between the wonders of Christmas and Epiphany on the one hand, and the glories of Lent and Easter on the other. Both reveal wonderful truths. A baby in a manger is God revealed in human flesh, the God-Man who is the Savior of all. He gives His life for the world and then comes forth from the grave, victorious over sin, death, and the devil. He ascends into heaven, to the everlasting throne of power. Finally, He will come again to judge the living and the dead. These are wonderful things. We believe them; we put our confidence in them; we rest our eternal hope on them. But could they not be mere fables? Or are they truth, the foundation of faith, the revelation of the mind and heart of God?

In every time and place and culture, men have thought and spoken about God. The earliest monuments of ancient lands were usually those which marked a society as religious in character. Ancient civilizations, uncovered by archaeologists, have revealed what those people thought about what they conceived of as God. And often, the things found contained some elements of truth. These show that, even without divine revelation, man has some knowledge of God. At the same time, however, much of what has been found speaks of speculation and just pure fiction. Often “the gods” were no more than glorified men, with all the failings and vices known to mankind. After all, man’s natural religion rests on that very shaky foundation of the fallible human mind.

Sadly, the faith of many today rests on no better foundation. Even much of what passes for the Christian faith these days is built largely on human opinion or speculation. Because Holy Scripture has been picked apart and ravaged by its godless critics, for many there is no longer a definitive authority to determine what is true and what is not. True Christian faith, however, rests not on fallible human speculation, but on the testimony of trustworthy eye and ear witnesses. And that is the standard Peter meets. He said: “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of His majesty.” Peter goes right to the heart of matter. The heart of the Christian faith is the living Lord Jesus. We do not deal with legends, but with a Person whom history knows.

When the apostles spoke or wrote, they told of actual events, things they had witnessed. Another of the eyewitness of the Transfiguration, St. John, wrote in his First Epistle, “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life...that which we have seen and heard, we proclaim also to you...” In our text, Peter identifies all of this as being “eyewitnesses of His majesty.” Together with James and John, Peter had been on that holy mountain where Jesus was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His garments became white as light. With their own eyes they were witnesses to His glory. And with their own ears they heard the voice of the Father out of heaven: “This is My beloved Son.” These events, which they had witnessed, and to which they gave testimony, are the foundation of faith. The Apostles and Evangelists wrote the truth, even when the truth would seem to be to their disadvantage. Just think of Peter and all of the unflattering things Scripture tells us about him, such as his denial of Jesus. Even when it was unpleasant, the truth was told.

“Know this first,” Peter said, “that no prophecy of Scripture comes from someone’s own interpretation. For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” No prophet of old had given his own interpretation of what God had given him to speak, but simply offered just what the Holy Spirit had given him. Indeed, the prophets told of much more than they ever fully understood, and that was possible because the Holy Spirit moved them to write and inspired what they wrote.

The faith stands on the foundation of the Word of God, the light that shines in a dark place. The darkness that needs to be overcome in all of us is spiritual ignorance caused by sin. The light brought to bear on it is the wisdom and knowledge of God. Peter says that if we pay attention to this Word, this light will grow until it becomes in our hearts like the light of day. If faith is built on the solid foundation of the Word and its witness to Jesus Christ, these things will become as real to us as they were to those who saw them first-hand, for Jesus Christ, the Sun of righteousness, has risen in our hearts to cast out the darkness of doubt and despair.

In all of this, we are offered the boundless riches of God’s grace; we are given a life that can be lived out in true joy and thanksgiving to God; we are granted a peace of heart that surpasses all understanding. May God grant to you this sure foundation of faith, so that you may walk in the light of the Lord. 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: Send Forth Your Faithful Preachers

As I said in the last post, it almost always seems that my time at District Convention proves fruitful for writing hymn texts. I wrote two yesterday, both for the Easter Vigil project I’m working on with the Reverend Doctor John Fleischmann. They’re both rough first drafts, and any feedback you’d desire to provide would be appreciated. Here’s the second text. I don’t yet know what I/we want to do for a tune.

Send Forth Your Faithful Preachers

for the Easter Vigil

Jonah Preaches to Nineveh—Jonah 3:1-10

1. Send forth Your faithful preachers,

And call us to repent.

Grant faith that we may listen

And heed the one You sent.

With sackcloth and in ashes 

We call, O God, to You.

Oh, turn us from our evil;

Our steadfastness renew.

2. The Word came unto Jonah:

“I say to you, arise!

To Nineveh I send you

To warn of their demise.”

So Jonah, as commanded,

Went forth to raise the cry.

“In forty days, the city,

Great Nineveh, will die.”

3. The people heard the message.

They heard and they believed.

The king and all his people

Knew God was not deceived.

They clothed themselves with sackcloth;

In ashes sat the king.

“Let all repent of vi’lence

And ev’ry evil thing.”

4. God saw their true repentance,

Rejoicing to relent.

No tragedy befell them;

On Christ His wrath was spent.

May we, with that great city,

From evil turn away,

And cling to Christ, our Savior,

No more to go astray.

86 86D

HYMN: Oh, Draw Us from the Nations

As it almost always seems to, my time at District Convention has proven fruitful for writing hymn texts. I wrote two yesterday, both for the Easter Vigil project I’m working on with the Reverend Doctor John Fleischmann. They’re both rough first drafts, and any feedback you’d desire to provide would be appreciated. Here’s the first text. I don’t yet know what I/we want to do for a tune.

Oh, and I also wrote the first stanza of a text which was supposed to be for the Easter Vigil project, but I think it will stand better as a hymn text regarding our response to the disregard of the world toward the Church. 

Oh, Draw Us from the Nations

for the Easter Vigil

A New Heart and a New Spirit—Ezekiel 36:24-28

1. Oh, draw us from the nations

And gather us to You.

Pour out baptismal waters

To cleanse like morning dew.

Create in us a new heart;

Cut out our heart of stone.

Remove our love of idols;

Lead us to You alone.

2. Within us put Your Spirit

To be Your dwelling place,

And make Your Law our pleasure,

Obeying by Your grace.

Grant us to be Your people;

Our God forever be!

Yes, gather us together

Unto eternity.

86 86D

Sermon for 1/30/22: Fourth Sunday After the Epiphany

 

No audio or video files. My apologies. For some reason, my voice recorder app on the iPhone is glitching. Going to have to take my iPad with me to Church.

 

“Groaning”

Romans 8:18-23

 

 

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

 

There is a lot of groaning going on in the eighth chapter of Romans. “...The whole creation has been groaning in the pains of child birth until now.” We ourselves groan, we are told. And then, in verses 26 and 27, we are told, “The Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groaning too deep for words...” All of these groanings are born out of a deep-running tension between present reality and future realization. As one Biblical interpreter put it, we are living in the “now, but not yet.” That is the tension laid on us by the revelation of God’s redemptive plan. As such, these groanings remind us that anyone who really expects to find peace of mind in the service of our Lord is chasing an illusion. Despite all the talk of the glories of being a Christian in this world, those glories are not to be found here. They await us elsewhere.

The Christian life is, in fact, torn with turmoil and scarred with struggle, because it is caught up in a deep longing for what is yet to be. Our destiny is a as certain as it is splendid. But the way is long, and it is surrounded by the circle of our own weakness and sin. What we know here is the cross and all of the affliction it brings. St. Paul himself might serve as the supreme example of one who agonized over his bondage to death and corruption. “I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Nothing less than the shining splendor of our Lord’s return will strike down these chains.

But, of course, we live in hope. And why wouldn’t we, with all the promises God has given us? But oh, to have just a touch, just a brief glimpse of their fulfillment! We understand so well how Peter, James, and John felt on the Mount of Transfiguration. Everything was glorious and beautiful there in the shining presence of the Son of God. But even that did not continue for them, and it is denied to us. And so we are thrown back on our prayers, our longings, our anticipation. But we are handicapped by our own weakness. We don’t really know how we ought to pray. We may know how to talk about prayer, but, really praying? That’s another matter altogether.

And there are two very good reasons for this. First, we cannot pray rightly because we cannot foresee the future. We might well be praying to be spared from things which are for our good, or we may be praying for things that might, in fact, harm us. And second, we cannot pray rightly because in any given situation we do not know what is best for us. Even the pagan Greeks, that culture in which the New Testament grew up, were aware of the moral weaknesses of men. Pythagoras forbade his followers to pray for themselves, because they would not, in their ignorance, know what was good for them. Even Socrates taught his disciples simply to pray for good things in general and to leave it to “the gods” to decide what things ought to be given.

Those pagan Greeks, however, their hearts and minds darkened by unbelief, were ultimately lacking the help and the hope we are given. But even with our imperfections, our groanings flow from faith, however weak, and ascend to the throne of God. As the Psalmist put it: “The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous, and his ear toward their cry.” And those groanings, St. Paul tells us, are too deep for words. They remain unspoken. They arise from our frustrations, our anxieties, our misgivings, our disgust with ourselves, our heavy disappointments. They come from deep down inside, from that part of us psychologists call the “subconscious.” And they cannot be forced into the narrow framework of human speech. They are much too dark, too bitter, too despairing for that. And the wonder is that God understands those groanings for what they are, and from where we are. They do not require the promptings of the psychiatrists couch. For God hears our groanings because He hears in them the speech of His own Spirit, who is busy shaping our longings and our hopes into the speech of intercession.

We really don’t know how to pray as we ought. If we think we do, we are only engaging in self-delusion! Why we even catch ourselves day-dreaming in the middle of our prayers. This is unworthy of sons and fellow heirs with Christ. But, right there is God’s own Spirit to pick us up and to maintain our contact with the heavenly Father. In turn, He searches our hearts to look into their deepest and darkest corners. And there He hears and understands our wordless groaning.

Now that we know this, we can live in hope a while longer. We can endure this eager waiting for a little while yet. And when that prayer is finally and fully answered, we shall be done with all those groanings and sighings that are too deep for words. For the glory of God’s presence will bring forth from us that new song of which every syllable is clear and distinct: the song of the saints before the throne of God. 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 1/23/22: Third Sunday After the Epiphany

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“Willing”

II Kings 5:1-15a

 

 

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

 

 

Both our Old Testament and Gospel readings have to do with healing that comes from God. In the Old Testament reading in particular, we have this account of Naaman, who suffered from leprosy, a disease that affected the skin and the nervous system. Certainly, his leprosy brought him physical suffering, but it also meant that he would be treated as an outcast as long as there were any signs of the disease. Naturally, he sought relief from his sickness. An Israelite servant girl told him about the prophet in Samaria who could heal him. Naaman jumped at the chance; he gathered together gifts and even a letter for the King of Israel, and then made his journey from Syria to Samaria in search of a cure.

But after he arrived and heard how he could be cured, he balked. “Wash in the Jordan seven times? Really? We have greater and cleaner rivers at home. I come all this way, and the prophet doesn’t even come out to cure me personally?” Naaman had his doubts, but he was eventually convinced that he should do as the prophet instructed. And he was, in fact, cleansed. No, the healing wasn’t glamorous. It was simple, straightforward. And it worked because it was healing from God! God worked through the word of the prophet and the earthly means of water to heal Naaman. And this is a very significant thing to learn. God works through means; He uses earthly instruments. It is not that God cannot heal directly; He can if and when He chooses to do so. But He doesn’t normally work that way. He normally uses doctors and medicines and therapies to heal our ills and ease our sufferings.

But we are often like Naaman. We doubt that these will work, and we balk at what God would have us do. We second-guess doctors; we refuse certain medicines; we avoid therapy that might help. And this is not to advocate a blind trust of doctors and medicines. We are to use our God-given wisdom in making medical decisions. But we are also called on to trust those to whom God has given such skill. Doctors and medicines are among those gifts spoken of in the First Article of the Creed, gifts through which God provides what we need to support our bodies and lives.

At its root, our lack of trust is not so much a suspicion of doctors, but a lack of trust in God to work through those things for our good. This lack of trust is nothing other than sin. When we ignore our doctors as a God-given means for healing, we are, in fact, denying God’s power to heal and mend through such earthly means. Of course, it is true that we are not always healed by the treatments prescribed by doctors. Sometimes, doctors make mistakes. Sometimes, medicines fail or don’t work as well as we would hope. And we don’t always recover from every illness or injury. We have a bottom line we all know to be true: “The wages of sin is death.” In this life, our sinful nature still stains us. We still suffer sickness, disease, and pain because our sinful nature still cries out that we cannot trust doctors, and we cannot trust God.

Our comfort is that we do not suffer alone. Christ Himself suffered for us. He suffered because He knew the suffering illness and other afflictions bring into our lives. He suffered because He knows the suffering we bring on ourselves by our sin. In His mercy, Christ carried all our suffering all the way to Calvary, and there suffered even to the point of death on the cross. As He suffered, He also took on our sickness; He took on our pain. He forgave our sinful lack of trust in God to heal and make us whole. Isaiah put it like this: “Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace; and with His stripes we are healed.” Jesus died, not just for sin, but also for the consequences of sin. He carried also all of our diseases to the cross. He took all of our suffering there: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. And because He did, we are promised the peace of God and healing of our own.

As a seal and pledge of that promise of bodily healing, Christ has given us His word: a word that tells us He is willing, that He will cleanse us. And He has also given us His very body and blood in the Holy Sacrament for the healing and sustaining of our souls. So, do not fear your doctors: they are God’s hands of mercy for your body. And do not neglect the gift of the Holy Supper, for the body and blood of Christ is the medicine of immortality for both body and soul. Through the means of medicine, God sustains us in this life. And through His Gospel gifts of Word and Sacrament, He sustains us, body and soul, for the life to come. Through these gifts He promises that one day we will know exactly what Naaman and the leper in the Gospel felt like, for Christ has promised to look on us with compassion, stretch out His hand, and speak His word to each of us: “I am willing. Be clean.” 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 1/16/22: Second Sunday After the Epiphany

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Seeing the Glory of God

Exodus 33:12-23

 

 

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

 

 

Moses was one of the most unique individuals in all of history. He was chosen by God to do amazing things. Moses led the people of Israel out of Egypt and slavery while the man who was, arguably, the most powerful man on earth stood by helplessly. Pharaoh had done everything he knew to do, but he had been brought to submission by a preacher who didn’t even do most of his own talking. Even when Pharaoh changed his mind about letting Israel go, and sent his army out to retrieve them, they were destroyed by God, seemingly at the hands of Moses, at the Red Sea. And then Moses single-handedly led these people through the desert of Sinai for forty years. And all the while, as the verse just prior to our text says: “The Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with a friend.”

And that is where we find Moses in our text: conversing with God. God has explained how Moses has found favor with Him. Favor, by the way, is the Old Testament word for “grace.” And Moses is making use of that favor. Much of what Moses says is well-pleasing to God. He asks God to be with His people as they make their way toward the Promised Land. God graciously promises to go with his people, though He warns Moses that they are a stiff-necked people and that His presence with His people will be hard for them to bear. But for the sake of his servant, God will go with the people, and he promises Moses rest.

But then, Moses makes this request: “Please show me your glory.” Moses was asking for something he could not understand. The glory of God is not what Moses expected. He wanted to see something a human could comprehend. But God explained to Moses that what he was asking wasn’t possible. And so, God said to him: “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name, ‘the Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. But you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.”  What Moses wanted to see was the undiminished glory of God. He wanted to look upon God and fully understand Him. And what God meant in response, was not that no one could see Him, but that no one could see Him as He is, in all His power and glory and holiness. In the Scriptures, God showed himself to various people in various ways. But when those people saw God, they saw what He wanted them to see, so that they would believe what He said to them. None of them, however, saw God fully as He is. So God gave Moses only what he could see and still live.

In the same way, because no man can see God’s face and live, God veiled His glory in the flesh of Jesus Christ. Jesus is no less the glory of God; that glory is just filtered through His human nature so that we human beings can see Him. The glory of God is not chiefly in His power; the glory of God is in His mercy, His grace, His forgiveness, in all that He has done to redeem us from sin and death.

God’s glory is in the suffering of the cross! His grace is such that Jesus set aside, for the moment, all that it is to be God, and willingly took on human limitations and human flesh and blood and became man. At the same time, of course, He was and is fully God. But for us and for our salvation, He permitted Himself to endure being born as an infant, to growing slowly as a child, to living humbly as a man—a man who had neither wealth nor influence in the circles of His day. He endured human sin and unbelief. He would suffer ridicule and torture and be cruelly executed on the cross for us to satisfy the justice of God and to endure that wrath of God against sin and sinners. He died in your place; He paid for your sins; He redeemed you, setting you free from sin, enabling you to live as God’s people should live. You don’t have to look like you deserve salvation, nor do you need to have a lot of the stuff of this world to know that the love of God is with you. You need only look to the cross, and take God at His Word, and trust in His promises.

And so, if you want to see the glory of God, then look at the cross, where the Son of God endured the unendurable for you. Look at the Baptismal font, where God called you by name and took you as His own dear child in Jesus Christ. Then look at the altar and the Holy Supper, where the Son of God feeds you with His true body and blood. Finally, look around you at this holy fellowship into which He has gathered you. Don’t be deceived by appearances or the size of the crowd; instead, look and believe all that God has spoken about these things and all the things He has promised about them, and you will be seeing the glory of God! 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 1/9/22: Baptism of Our Lord

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Strength and Wisdom
I Corinthians 1:26-31

 

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

 

John was baptizing for repentance and remission of sin. But Jesus needed neither repentance nor forgiveness. How could it be that He would come to John? After all, He was the Son of the eternal Father. John, in all sincerity, said: “I need to be baptized by You. And do You come to me?” That certainly seems a proper response. But Jesus answered him: “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” Out of our Lord’s words, one of the great mysteries of the Christian faith unfolds. The One who comes with the power to save, the One without sin, becomes sin for us, “that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” Had we been God, we would have done things differently. But we are not God, and His ways are not our ways, nor are His thoughts our thoughts. And for that we are eternally grateful.

Just as our Savior does not fit the preconceived mold most would want to put Him in, so too most people in this world see Christians as being a bit odd. One man has described Christians as “well-programmed suckers.” It is true that we do not have the same goals, nor do we participate in the same kinds of fun, as much of our society with its debauchery and immorality. And the pressure to conform to such standards is severe. Our teenagers and young adults especially know how difficult this is. What is needed is to know how God defines both strength and wisdom.

We want to be seen as strong and wise; no one wants to be seen as weak or foolish. Society glorifies strength and cunning. In our cleverness, we seek after our own goals. For example, it used to be thought that the purpose of an education is to cultivate the mind, which is a marvelous gift of God. But these days, education is something to check off the list on the way to a job that offers the highest salary possible. That is what strength and wisdom consists of in this materialistic world. Man glorifies himself; he believes it is his own strength and wisdom that gets him all these things.

The case St. Paul makes in this text is that we have all of this backwards. What man sees as strength is actually weakness; what he thinks is wisdom is, in truth, foolishness. And the road built by strength and wisdom as defined by man is not merely a dead end; it is a road that leads to destruction. One who is on this road has no hope of gaining and understanding true strength and wisdom because He is blinded by his own vanity. One who trusts in himself cannot realize that he is weak.

The truth is, when we think we are strong, we are really weak; when we think we are wise, we are actually foolish. We just acknowledged in the liturgy that “we are by nature sinful and unclean.” We are all weak and foolish. The first step toward having godly strength and wisdom is to admit that we don’t have it, and that what we do have is weakness and foolishness. This demands repentance and confession of sin, and then receiving the forgiveness of sin from the One who is truly strong and wise, our Lord Jesus Christ. We find true strength and wisdom on our knees.

True strength and wisdom are gifts from God. In the words leading up to our text, St. Paul writes: “...we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” The cross of Christ, in the eyes of unbelief, is the very height of foolishness. There is nothing more offensive in the presence of unbelief than the suffering of the cross. It makes God out to be the fool, and the One called His Son still more foolish. But what faith knows to be true is that God turns everything around. His foolishness is wiser than the wisest man. What the world thinks is folly, God calls wisdom. What the world thinks is weakness, God calls power.

And now, consider your calling in light of all of this. In the eyes of this world, you are weak and foolish, with no power nor influence. You are despised and unsophisticated. And in this respect, you are no different than Jesus, for that is what they also think of Him. But as Paul writes: “He is the source of your life..., whom God made our wisdom and our righteousness and sanctification and redemption.”

And this draws us back to our Lord’s baptism. Now we know why Jesus humbled Himself and stood before John for Baptism. What appears weak and foolish before the world is, in fact, the working out of God’s strength and wisdom. Things must be done God’s way, and God’s way is to subject His own Son to suffering and death for the sins of the world, with the sure and certain promise of the resurrection to life and glory everlasting. That is what was begun at His Baptism. And the same promise is given to your faith: what seems weak and foolish to you now is but the working out of the will of God in your life to save you. Only in eternity will you know this fully. For now, in the midst of trial and temptation and suffering, you have the strength and wisdom of God, which is Jesus Christ—and that is enough! 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.