Homily for the Ascension of Our Lord

Last evening we celebrated the Ascension of Our Lord. Inspired by Luther's House Postil on the Ascension (1532, if I recall correctly), it was a delight to proclaim our Lord's coronation in light of Ephesians 4:8-10 under the theme "No Longer Captive."

To listen to the audio file, click this link, download the file, and listen away.

Homily for Easter 5-Cantate

Today's homily picked up on the name of the day, Cantate (Latin for "Sing!"), and proclaimed Christ crucified and risen under the title "Singing the Savior's Sermon."

Click on this link to download and listen to the audio file. The Lord bless you and keep you!

On Christ's Ascension I Now Build

In order to prepare us for celebrating our Lord's Ascension, this article will appear in the May edition of my congregation's newsletter, "The Hope Lutheran."

At Christmas celebrated God the Son coming down to us and taking on our human flesh and blood. In Lent and Holy Week we celebrated Jesus’ descent into suffering and death, humbling Himself further, to rescue us from sin and give us life with Him. On Easter Sunday, and for several Sundays since, we have celebrated His rising to life again and His victory over the grave.

On Thursday, May 13 we will celebrate Jesus' enthronement, His victorious reign, and our abundant life in Him as we celebrate The Ascension of Our Lord at 2:00 p.m. and 7:00 p.m. Jesus' exaltation began when He descended into hell and continued with His rising to life. But it did not stop there. Jesus' Ascension completes His Father's mission to accomplish our salvation.

Sad to say, though, Jesus' Ascension doesn't get as much attention as do Christmas or Easter. Perhaps it's because we celebrate it on a Thursday. Why a Thursday? In our hectic world we want a pretty good reason for adding yet one more thing to our frantic schedules. We're so frazzled from shuttling the kids to school and sports and juggling our own schedules that a Thursday evening is prime time for "vegging out" in front of the "boob tube."

Why celebrate Jesus' Ascension on a Thursday? Because it marks 40 days after Jesus' Resurrection. After He rose from the dead Jesus remained on earth 40 days (see Acts 1:3), teaching His apostles and others what His dying and rising meant (also read Luke 24 and John 20-21). Jesus had to put all the puzzle pieces together for His followers—what kind of Savior He is, what kind of life He gives through His Gospel and Sacraments, and how they were about to be sent out to teach others.

Another reason Ascension Day may not be a big deal is that we've lost its meaning. We may think that once we've celebrated Easter, we've finished the salvation story. But that's like leaving a baseball game at the seventh inning stretch! Your team may be ahead by one point on the scoreboard, but you haven't seen the exciting conclusion. Your favorite player may yet hit a grand slam to clinch the victory. To echo Paul Harvey, Jesus' Ascension gives us "the rest of the story."

On Christ’s Ascension…

The Formula of Concord says: "Now He has ascended to heaven, not merely as any other saint, but as the apostle testifies (Ephesians 4:10), above all heavens. He also truly fills all things being present everywhere, not only as God, but also as man." (FC, VIII, 27)

What does this mean?

First, Jesus' Ascension means that His work of saving all people is done. When Jesus died on the cross, He said, "It is finished." When He ascended into heaven, Jesus showed that everything for our salvation is accomplished. Our eternal life with God is a "done deal." Love came down at Christmas, accomplished forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation on the cross, rose victorious over death, and then returned to God the Father. Jesus finished His journey. Our life with God, now and into eternity, is safe and secure. What a comfort when doubts annoy, temptations assail, and sorrows come crashing in!

Second, Jesus' Ascension means that a perfect human being has entered heaven and sits at God's right hand. We can try all we want to get to heaven on our own steam, but we cannot get there. The people at the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11) tried to get up to heaven, but their pride was their downfall. We try to impress God with our good lives, but then our pride leads us to ruin too. No human being can enter God’s glorious presence and live. Until now! Jesus not only breaks the bonds of death, but He also opens the barrier between God and human beings. Our ascended Lord gives us the hope of entering God’s glorious, eternal presence.

Third, Jesus' Ascension means that He rules over all things. Without this step in Jesus' exaltation, we in the Church would wander through life aimless and scared. Terrorist attacks, political scandals, or economic bad news would lead us to despair. We would vainly try to create some kind of heaven on earth. Without Jesus' Ascension, we might think that we should mould and shape the Church like a wax nose—make it look and act differently with every passing fad of "popular" teaching.

But with Jesus' Ascension, we have peace. Jesus rules all things for the good of His Church. Everything from terrorist attacks to church struggles to personal tragedies takes on new meaning. Jesus uses everything—even the conflicts and wars, even our personal trials and stresses—to strengthen us in faith toward Him and in fervent love toward one another. Nothing is out of Jesus' gracious control. He works it all for the good of His people.

Faith comes by hearing…

How does this good, Biblical teaching of Jesus' Ascension help us in faith and life? Why is it important for the Church to hold on to Jesus' Ascension as one of its prime teachings?

First, Jesus promises the Holy Spirit for His followers. While Jesus goes away from physical sight, He does not leave His Church. He promises to be with her "in, with, and under" the work of the Holy Spirit. In John 14:26 Jesus says, "He will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you." In John 15:26, our Lord says, "When the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, He will bear witness about Me." Jesus promises the Holy Spirit who, in turn, keeps our focus on Him.

Then in Acts 1:9 we read, "When He had said these things, as they were looking on, He was lifted up, and a cloud took Him out of their sight." Notice: this key verse does not say that Jesus is gone! The great joy of the Ascension is that while Jesus may be out of sight, He is not out of mind, and He most certainly is not absent. He's still with His forgiven, precious people!

Here's an illustration. A mother and her six month-old baby are playing together on the living room floor. Mom has to get up and go into the kitchen. The baby looks around but doesn’t see Mom. She starts to fuss, fearing that she is alone. What does Mom do while she is in the kitchen? She speaks. She speaks so her baby can hear her: "It's alright, my dear. Mommy's still here." The baby is comforted. How? Not by the visible presence of Mom, but by hearing her voice.

That's what the Ascension of Jesus means for us Christians. A cloud hid Him from the disciples' sight, but He was not absent. Instead, Jesus comforts His disciples, then and now, with His voice. So Jesus' Ascension teaches us something very important: the Church does not live in the time of seeing, but in the time of hearing. Faithfully hearing the Word of God read, preached, and sung is the most important thing any Christian can do in life. As St. Paul says, "Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (Romans 10:17).

Based on this clear, comforting Ascension teaching from the Bible, we in the Church must, and can, trust our ears more than our eyes. Too often our eyes lead us astray. If pews look empty, we despair and don't trust Jesus' eternal care for His Church. If pews look full, we gloat and pat ourselves on the back for how we ingeniously brought people into "our" church. Instead of relying on our eyes—and the common, worldly standards of success and failure—our Lord calls us to rely on our ears.

After all, the more we hear the Gospel of Jesus' gifts of forgiveness and life, the more we are comforted and strengthened in faith. The more we hear the Gospel, the better equipped we are to give "a reason for the hope that is in [us]" (1 Peter 3:15).

Supposedly Dr. Martin Luther (1483-1546) was once asked about a preacher who had distracting mannerisms in the pulpit. The upset church member complained to Dr. Luther, "I just can't watch him and get anything out of the sermon." Dr. Luther replied, "Well, then, take your eyeballs out of their sockets, put them in your ears, and listen!" Jesus' Ascension ushers us into the time of hearing God's Word. After all, hearing God's life-giving Word is the fountainhead of our life with God.

So, set aside Thursday, May 13 to attend the Divine Service. When Jesus ascends to God’s right hand, so do we. And Jesus promises to rule all things for the good of His body, the Church. As we sing in the Ascension Day hymn:

On Christ's ascension I now build

The hope of my ascension;

This hope alone has always stilled

All doubt and apprehension;

For where the Head is, there as well

I know His members are to dwell

When Christ will come and call them.

(Lutheran Service Book, 492:1)

Homily for Easter 4-Jubilate

As we continue to celebrate our Lord's Resurrection and His victory over sin, death, and the devil, we rejoice in His gifts of mercy, life, and forgiveness. On this day the Church bids us to "Rejoice!" Today's homily was titled "The Joy of It All," and drew several themes from the great little book by Rev. Matthew Harrison, A Little Book on Joy: The Secret to Living a Good News Life in a Bad News World. (I highly recommend this great little book!)

To listen to the sermon, click on this link, download the audio file, and enjoy!

Homily for Easter 3-Misericordias Domini

Picking up on the "Easter Evangel" theme from my homily for Easter Sunday, I wanted to tie the Good Shepherd theme into the Church's "Easter Evangelism." Here's a link to the audio file of this past Sunday's homily, "The Bishop, the Sheep, and the Sheepdogs."

Click on this link, download the audio file, and listen.

Comforted by the Resurrection

“Faced with Death We Are Comforted by the Resurrection”

by Ephraim the Syrian

Christ the Resurrector will appear in the heights of glory. He will bring the dead to life and raise those in the graves. The children of Adam, who was made of earth, will all arise together and give praise to the Resurrector of the dead.

Let not your hearts be sad, ye mortals. The Lord’s day shall come and He will awaken and gladden us who have reposed. Those who have kept the law shall be roused before the Lord, and the angels shall rejoice in the day of resurrection.

Let not your souls be sorrowful, ye who were redeemed by the cross and called into the kingdom. The Lord’s day shall come; He will give voice to the deceased and the dead will arise and give Him praise.

Let us glorify and worship Jesus, the Word of God, Who, according to His love, came to save us by His cross and is coming again to resurrect Adam’s children in the great day when His majesty shall shine forth.

Grieve not, ye mortals, over your corruption. Christ the King shall shine forth from on high; He who is omnipotent shall beckon and thus raise the dead from their graves, and clothe them with glory in His kingdom.

If death has reigned and laid waste to our nature because Adam sinned and violated the commandment, then shall we not be justified and saved all the more by the sufferings of Christ Who has vanquished death and vindicated our nature?

Our Lord has granted the deceased hope and consolation, for He Himself rose from the grave, vanquished death, promised resurrection and life, and bestowed great blessings on Adam and all his children.

Praise and glory to the Father Who created us, to the Son Who saved us by His cross, and to the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, to the all-praised and incomprehensible Trinity Who raises the dead and clothes their bodies with glory. (A Spiritual Psalter, #149, p. 231-32)

Homily for the Resurrection of Our Lord

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

As we celebrated the Resurrection of Our Lord this past Sunday, the homily was based on the Gospel reading, Mark 16:1-8, and titled, "The Easter Evangel."

Click this link to download and listen to the audio file.

Homily - Easter 7 - Exaudi

Witnessing of Christ
John 15:26-16:4

Dr. Robert Kolb, professor at Concordia Seminary here in St. Louis, said this about witnessing: “Believers are…called to give witness to their faith and the hope which lies within them. As a matter of fact, we cannot do otherwise. Our peace is reflected in our actions and raises questions from those who do not have it…. Our call to witness is one which we can never lay aside or avoid. We can only practice it better or worse.” (Teaching God’s Children, 8-10)

Dr. Kolb simply restates what Jesus Himself said: “You also will bear witness, because you have been with Me from the beginning.” Today Jesus says that when the Holy Spirit comes, Christians will naturally bear witness of Christ.

Six weeks ago we broke forth in great joy. Christ rose victorious from the dead! He conquered our worst enemies—sin, death, and Satan. He trampled down death by His death, and by His resurrection He gives life to us mortals who end up in the tomb. For 40 days we’ve done what the first disciples did: we’ve sat at Jesus’ feet, and we’ve listened to what His resurrection life is all about, how it changes all of life for us. This past Thursday we had another victory celebration, and a great one at that! Christ ascended to heaven. He sits at God’s right hand. He rules all things in the universe for the good of His Christian Church. He restores us to being fully human. Great days indeed!

But now we live in the in-between-time. Today, the 7^th Sunday of Easter, falls in between Jesus’ Ascension (this past Thursday) and the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost (next Sunday). Today also reminds us that we live in between Jesus’ Ascension and His glorious, visible return at the end of time. So, what are we to do? How are we to live? First, we look back to the great saving deeds of Jesus in the past. Then we also look ahead to the future when Christ will return riding on a cloud. And, as if that isn’t enough, we get to live in the here and now of this life. What do we Christians do? We bear witness. We testify of Christ.

Jesus tells us today that the Holy Spirit will testify of Him. “When the Helper comes, whom I shall send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify of Me.” This is now the fourth Sunday we’ve heard Jesus teach us about the coming Holy Spirit. Today we hear three things about the Holy Spirit.

First, the Holy Spirit is our “Helper.” The Greek word is “Paraclete,” which means “Advocate” or “Defense Attorney.” We know what it’s like to be accused of our sin. The devil is always telling us, “You’re not worthy to be a Christian!” Our own conscience always accuses us. When we hurt or harm someone else with words or deeds, we know it’s wrong, and our conscience keeps trying to remind us that it’s wrong. But the Holy Spirit comes as our “Helper,” our “Advocate,” our “Defense Attorney.” He defends us against the charges of our sin by drawing our attention to Jesus Christ and His cross-won, blood-bought forgiveness for us. The Holy Spirit comforts our conscience by reminding us that God loves us and has mercy on us because Christ died and rose for us. So the Spirit is our Helper.

The second thing we hear about the Holy Spirit is that He is the “Spirit of Truth.” As one saying goes, “Where God builds a church, the devil builds a chapel or a tavern next door.” That is, where God’s message of mercy is taught in its truth and purity, the devil will also give false preachers, false churches, and false religions. Where God puts a church focused on Christ and His forgiveness and life, given in the Gospel and Sacraments, the devil will erect a church that focuses on things like successful living or some purpose-driven life that you make for yourself. Who will help us see what’s true and what’s false? The Spirit of Truth. He shows us that the teachings we learn in the Bible and the Small Catechism are true. He makes our faith sure, He removes our doubts, and He enables us to discern the false teachers and false spirits. He is the “Spirit of Truth.”

How does the Spirit do all this? This is the third thing we hear about Him: the Holy Spirit testifies of Christ. Some people think that the Holy Spirit comes and works through ecstatic experiences, such as dreams or untranslatable languages. Some people think that the Holy Spirit works through emotions and feelings. But remember what Jesus says: “He will testify of Me.” “Testify.” A very unemotional, un-ecstatic word! The Holy Spirit will bear witness of Christ. The Holy Spirit shows us that Jesus Christ is the only way to God. He shows us and tells us that Christ shed His blood to cleanse us from all our sin. He testifies to us that Christ rose victorious from the grave and gives us His perfect, divine life. The Holy Spirit works through the Gospel and the Sacraments of Christ and thus brings us to faith and keeps us in faith. You see, He wants us to be absolutely certain of our salvation and life with God, so He testifies of Christ, and of Christ alone.

Since the Holy Spirit is our Helper and the Spirit of Truth, and since He testifies of Christ, now we also bear witness of Christ. Remember how Dr. Kolb said it, “we cannot do otherwise…. We can only practice it better or worse.”

You see, when we are born again in our Baptism, each of us is automatically a witness of Christ. There’s no special training required. It’s like being called to be a witness in a court of law. You take the stand. You swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You don’t ask the questions, but you do answer the questions asked of you. And how do you answer those questions? You simply tell the truth of what you’ve seen and heard in Christ’s words and works. “Yes, we humans are fallen and sinful. Yes, I am a sinner. But also, yes, Christ has come into the world. He has suffered and died and risen again to rescue me and all people. Jesus Christ gives forgiveness and eternal life to me and all who believe in Him.” That’s the faithful and true testimony.

Now when Jesus first said, “you also will bear witness,” He was talking to His apostles, the first pastors and preachers of His Good News. When they would preach their sermons, they would bear witness of Christ. Isn’t it absolutely marvelous how their work has continued and multiplied over the centuries? Even to this day Christian pastors faithfully bear witness of Christ and His saving deeds. Don’t be hoodwinked by church executives and bureaucrats who try to make you feel guilty as if the church is not doing her mission! She is—all the time. She cannot do otherwise. Every time a Christian pastor proclaims the Gospel of Christ, every time a Christian pastor baptizes, and every time a Christian pastor distributes the Lord’s Body and Blood, he is bearing witness of Christ. That is the Church’s mission.

But are pastors and preachers the only witnesses of Christ? Of course not! You who faithfully gather around Christ in His Gospel and Sacraments also bear witness. When you come to church, you get to hear with your ears and “see” with the eyes of faith the wonderful deeds of Christ. Then you get to go back to your daily vocations and bear witness there. Some of you get to bear witness to family and friends who are outside the Church. Others get to bear witness to a troubled co-worker. Perhaps you get to bear witness to the clerk at the grocery store, or perhaps you get to bear witness to the doctor or nurse at your annual check up or when you lie flat on your back in a hospital bed. As Dr. Kolb said, “Those who know we are Christians form impressions of Christ from our lives, whether good or bad. Those who do not know we are Christian still see some glimpse of what gives us our ultimate sense of identity, security, and meaning, and whether it is working or not.” So, every Christian bears witness of Christ. You constantly bear witness of Christ!

Yes, “Our call to witness is one which we can never lay aside or avoid. We can only practice it better or worse.” But with the Holy Spirit always helping us and giving us the truth of Christ, with the forgiveness and life that come only from Christ in His Gospel and Sacraments, we can and we do bear witness of Christ. Amen.

Homily - Ascension of Our Lord

"Fully Human"

The Ascension of Our Lord
Mark 16:14-20

Tonight we celebrate our Lord’s Ascension and return to the Father’s right hand. What does it mean for us, here and now? When we get ready for Holy Communion, we will hear these startling words: “that He [Jesus] might make us partakers of His divine life.” That’s what Ascension Day means for us: our Lord Jesus Christ makes us “partakers of His divine life.” Jesus restores us to being fully human.

What does it mean to be fully human? On bright, sunny days, when life is going smoothly and there’s not a cloud in the sky or a problem on the horizon, we may think we know what it means to be fully human. When bills are paid, tummies are full, and happiness abounds, we might have an inkling of what being human is about. But do we really?

Being fully human means living in God’s image, as He created Adam and Eve, before they fell into sin. Genesis 1(:27) says, “God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Martin Luther commented on this verse and said, “Thus Adam had a twofold life: a physical one and an immortal one” (LW, vol. 1). Adam was fully human when he had both physical life and immortal life.

Luther also gives this lovely description of Adam’s “full humanity,” or the image of God: “Therefore the image of God, according to which Adam was created, was something far more distinguished and excellent, since obviously no leprosy of sin adhered either to his reason or to his will. Both his inner and his outer sensations were all of the purest kind. His intellect was the clearest, his memory was the best, and his will was the most straightforward—all in the most beautiful tranquillity of mind, without any fear of death and without any anxiety. To these inner qualities came also those most beautiful and superb qualities of body and of all the limbs, qualities in which he surpassed all the remaining living creatures. I am fully convinced that before Adam’s sin his eyes were so sharp and clear that they surpassed those of the lynx and eagle. He was stronger than the lions and the bears, whose strength is very great; and he handled them the way we handle puppies.” (LW, vol. 1) Wouldn’t that be great!

But deep down, in our heart of hearts, we know there is something amiss. We are not “fully human,” and we know it. That’s why we are always so unsettled, so often unfulfilled in life. We really do not know what it means to be “fully human”! As Luther also said, “I am afraid that since the loss of this image through sin we cannot understand it to any extent. Memory, will, and mind we have indeed; but they are most depraved and most seriously weakened, yes, to put it more clearly, they are utterly leprous and unclean.”

To be honest and truthful, we and all people on the face of the earth are sub-human, less than human. People who fly airplanes into tall buildings, with the express purpose of killing thousands of other people, are sub-human. People who kill innocent babies before they can be born, or elderly people because they are “an inconvenience,” are sub-human. Women who burn with passion for other women, and men who burn with passion for other men, are sub-human. After all, that so-called “lifestyle” cannot even procreate physical life.

Other examples might impact us more personally. Every form of sickness, from cancer to the common cold, shows that we are sub-human. Every frustration with family, friends, complete strangers, or even ourselves, shows that we are sub-human. Every time we get suspicious of someone else’s motives, every time we get mad at someone else’s actions, every time we talk poorly about another human being—friend or foe—we show we are sub-human.

When I say we are sub-human, I mean that we are less than what God planned for us to be. Because of the cancer of our sin, you and I live, work, and play far below the perfect life that God meant for us to have. Deep down we know this, because we always “try to do better.” But we cannot change our fallen, sub-human condition before God. Only one Person can do that for us—Jesus the Christ, the Perfect God and Perfect Man.

When Jesus came into this world, He took on our very flesh and blood. Jesus was fully human. Like Adam before sin, He had physical life and immortal life. And “in every respect [Jesus] has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). He Jesus lived perfectly and kept all of God’s commands perfectly. Then He went to the cross to be our substitute for our being sub-human. And here’s the best news of all: Jesus, the perfect fully human Son of God rose from the dead. Death is the biggest proof that we are sub-human. But Jesus conquered death. He rose again and gives us His resurrection life. And this Lord of Life makes us fully human. St. Paul said it this way: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (Eph. 1:3). By His perfect life, by His atoning death, and by His glorious resurrection Jesus makes us fully human!

So, when Jesus gets ready to ascend to God’s right hand, He commissions His Church, His followers, to help restore people to being fully human. We’ve heard St. Mark’s version of what Jesus said: “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved.” St. Matthew recorded it this way: “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them…and teaching them…” (Mt. 28:19-20). And St. Luke phrased it this way: “that repentance [for] forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in His name to all nations” (Lk. 24:47). In other words, Jesus makes us and other people fully human when we hear and preach the Gospel—the Good News that Christ forgives our sins and gives us His divine life!

Jesus even gave some physical manifestations of how we will know that His Gospel message makes us fully human. Demons will be cast out, that is, people will come to faith in Christ. People will speak with new tongues, that is, they will speak the wonderful works of God’s grace and mercy in various languages around the globe. The serpent’s poison of death will no longer affect us, because we have Jesus’ fully human life in us. And when we, our pastor, and our church proclaim Christ crucified, risen, and ascended to forgive sinners and give life, you are actually healing people from their dreaded disease of being sub-human.

So, Ascension Day also reminds us of our purpose and mission in this world. Our Lord Christ wants us to view church as the place where He makes us fully human. Everyone who stays away from Christ’s pulpit and altar remain in their sub-human sickness. But everyone who comes to hear and receive Jesus’ precious Gospel and Sacraments receives Jesus’ own healing. Just look at what He has already done for you. He has baptized you and made you fully human by washing away all your sins. He continues to restore you to FULL HUMANITY every time you hear His Word proclaimed, every time you eat and drink His Body and Blood. As Luther said, “where there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation.” fully human life, that is.

So, don’t you want your family, your friends, your neighbors, and your co-workers to be fully human with you? Think about it this way. If Bill Gates came to give away ten thousand dollars to every person who walked through the church doors, I’d bet that you would bring everyone you could. Well, dear friends, Bill Gates has nothing compared to the riches of knowing Christ Jesus and being made fully human. Here, in this place, our Lord Jesus Christ always restores us and anyone who comes here to being fully human. That’s why, after Jesus ascended, the disciples “went out and preached everywhere” because the Lord Jesus “worked with them and confirmed the message by accompanying signs.” Our ascended Lord Jesus still works through His Word and Sacraments to make us fully human. Amen.

To My Orthodox Friends

A very blessed and joyous Pascha to my Orthodox friends who may be reading my blog!

Christ is risen! Indeed, He is risen!

Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered; let those who hate him flee from before His face!

Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life. (Troparion)

This is the day which the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!

Homily - Easter 5-Cantate

The Church Sings!
John 16:5-15 (w/ Isaiah 12:1-6 & James 1:16-21)

“Sing praises to the LORD,” Isaiah says, “for He has done gloriously; let this be made known in all the earth.” The Church sings. It’s just what she does because of who she is, and Whose she is. The Church sings. It’s just a glorious fact of life.

Yes, the Church sings, but she does not sing her warm-fuzzy, ooey-gooey emotions. Sure, there are plenty of times when her heart swells with joy and gladness as she sings. But there are plenty of other times – perhaps most times – when her heart feels rather parched and empty. And still she sings. She does not sing just because she feels happy or because life is good. In fact, when we sing with the Church and as the Church, we sing whether we are happy or not. We sing in sadness as well as joy, in grief as well as elation, in disappointment as well as fulfillment. We sing in every emotional state that we human beings experience. The Church sings in and through them all. Why? Because, as Isaiah sings, “the LORD God is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.” Yes, “He has done gloriously; let this be made know in all the earth.”

The Church sings. She sings in response to God’s great and mighty acts of salvation. These great and mighty acts of God’s salvation are the content of the Church’s song. The Church sings God’s acts of salvation for us who already know them, so that we won’t forget them. She also sings God’s acts of salvation for those who have not yet heard of them, so that they too may be saved and join with us in songs of thankfulness and praise. To be saved means to join the Church’s song with heart, mind, and voice.

Yes, the LORD has done gloriously. Even though He was angry with us for our sin and rebellion, His anger turned away in His Son, so that He might comfort us with His forgiveness. Believe that, and you’ll sing! It’s just what you do when you realize and trust what great things God has done for you. And if your singing has been a bit half-hearted or lack-luster, you may want to ask yourself, “Have I been focusing on the glorious deeds of the LORD, or have I been focusing on something else – perhaps something as vain and self-absorbed as worrying how I may or may not sound?”

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus gives us much to sing about. He says that He is “going to Him who sent [Him],” – to His Father. Have you ever thought of Jesus’ suffering and dying as “going to the Father”? Jesus did. “For the joy that was set before Him [He] endured the cross, despising the shame” (Heb. 12:2). Do you want something to sing about? Try this: our Lord Jesus has transformed our suffering and dying to be like His suffering and dying. We trust that His cross was His “going to the Father” on our behalf and for our benefit. Because of Jesus’ suffering, dying, and rising, our suffering and dying take on new meaning. Our suffering and dying become our going to the Father too. Now that’s something to sing about! And there’s more.

Jesus says that He goes to the Father in order to send the Holy Spirit to us. “For if I do not go away,” He told the disciples, “the Helper will not come to you.” So Jesus goes to the cross, weighed down with our sin. He enters into our death to trample it down. He rises from the grave to bring us His life. He ascends to the Father’s right hand to intercede for us. Our Lord gives all these gifts, but He does not stop there. He also pours out upon us the most precious gift of all: the Holy Spirit Himself.

You see, without the Holy Spirit, you and I could never know what sin is, or what righteousness is, or what judgment is. Without the Holy Spirit, we would think, along with most people, that sin is merely about what we do or don’t do, about following rules and regulations. We would think that righteousness is merely a matter of our right outward behavior, or of not doing something mean and nasty, or of doing all the stuff that God tells us to do—as in standing at attention, clicking our heels, saluting, and saying, “Yes, sir, General God, sir!” Without the Holy Spirit, we would swear up and down that judgment is merely a matter of appearing before Judge God on the Last Day to see what goodies He will hand out for those who tried their best with whatever they had, or what punishments He will dish out to those who are clearly more wicked than we are.

But that’s all a big bunch of balderdash…and the Holy Spirit comes to show us it is. The Spirit shows us the true depth of our sin. Sin is not just a matter of what we do or don’t do, of following certain rules or regulations. The Spirit shows us that all sin flows from unbelief, that contagion that infects us all. He shows us that we do not trust God as we should, that we don’t believe and rely on His promises. We wonder if God really hears our prayers, or if chance governs all things in life, or if our sufferings come our way by pure happenstance. The Holy Spirit, though, unveils the evil that dwells in our hearts. We quickly realize how our sin within sullies and soils everything we do, say, and think. Yes, even our best and noblest deeds are stained and soured. As Isaiah said by the same Spirit many centuries ago, “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment” (Is.64:6). Is that something to sing about? Yes! It inspires us to sing: “Create in me a clean heart, O God!”

Then we get to see that the same Holy Spirit rejoices to convince us about righteousness. You see, righteousness is not first about us, what we do or fail to do. Even the best of our deeds is tarnished and infected by our selfishness and unbelief. Instead, the Spirit tells us that this is righteousness: Our Savior Jesus goes to the Father. In His perfect love He carried our unbelief and our sinful actions in Himself. In His perfect obedience He suffered the unspeakable horrors of our sin and death. But then He burst forth from the darkness of death, and He rose again to bring life and immortality to light. And since He has ascended to God’s Right Hand, He is our Advocate before the Father. Now that’s righteousness! HE is righteousness! HE perfectly fulfills the whole will and law of God on our behalf and for our benefit. HE stands before the Father as the Righteous One. And now that we are joined to Him in our Baptism, we also stand before the Father as righteous ones. In fact, in our Baptism the holiness of Jesus clothes us and begins to transform us, now and all the way to the Resurrection on the Last Day. Now THAT is something to sing about! And there’s still more.

God’s Spirit of holiness also reveals that judgment has come on the ruler of this world. Yes, Satan himself has been judged, condemned, and thrown down. The old, evil accuser has been silenced. He can bring no charge against those who are in Christ Jesus. Sure, he may prowl around the world looking for folks to devour, but he’s like a Rottweiler on a leash. His reach and his time are limited. The Holy Spirit, though, keeps guiding us into the Truth of Jesus. He keeps showing us that all that belongs to Jesus is ours as well, and it’s much more than I can fit into one sermon. That’s why we sing and keep on singing the Church’s song.

In today’s Epistle reading, James rejoices in all the goodies that come down to us from the Father of lights who never changes. He is always our great Giver God! He spoke His Gospel, and we became the first fruits of a new creation. Here’s reason to sing: by the gift of our rebirth in Baptism, we get to live the joys of the Age to come already in this world. We get to practice the life of Christ now as we prepare for eternity. That’s why James calls us to be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger. We know that our getting hot and bothered never produces the righteousness that God requires. That comes by humbly hearing and holding on to Jesus and the new life that He gives in His death and resurrection.

And so we sing. We “sing praises to the LORD, for He has done gloriously.” The Church of Jesus Christ sings. She sings the wondrous things God has done and still does in her midst. “Shout, and sing for joy, O inhabitant of Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.” Let’s go forth with singing as we meet Him at His Holy Table. Amen.

Homily - Easter 4 - Jubilate Evening Prayer

Rejoicing in the Lord’s Steadfast Love
Easter 4 – Jubilate – Evening Prayer (In support of Issues, Etc. after its cancellation.)
Lamentations 3:22-33 & 1 Peter 11-20
13 April 2008

What a tragedy! What a travesty! It was a most sorrowful day for God’s faithful people. It was a massive blow to the collective gut of God’s faithful people and even some on the outside. You could hear God’s faithful saying, “My groans are many, and my heart is faint” (Lam. 1:22). I’m sure some even said, “My eyes are spent with weeping; my stomach churns” (Lam. 2:11). Of course, I’m talking about the destruction of God’s holy city, Jerusalem. (What did you think I was talking about? :-)

You see, I’m trusting that we’ve all come to hear God’s message on this evening of Jubilate—this day of Easter rejoicing, this day of sorrow being turned into joy. So the first reading we heard this evening transports us to the rubble of Jerusalem, just after God Himself destroyed it by means of His own enemies. This evening we get to pull up a fallen stone from the rubble and sit with Jeremiah as he laments the destruction caused by faithlessness to God. But a glimmer of hope—a bright ray of joy—does also peak through the gloom.

As Jeremiah surveys the smoking rubble and gruesome carnage of a sacked Jerusalem, he has no problem lamenting the horrific scene. But it’s quite an orderly and well thought out sort of grief. Each verse of chapter one begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Same thing in chapter two. No exploding, rambling, raving, maniacal sorrow! Jeremiah shows us how to sorrow and lament in alphabetical order, grappling with our sorrow with purpose and with completeness. Then we come to chapter 3. The alphabetical order of his lament intensifies. Each verse has three lines and each group of three lines begins with a successive Hebrew letter. More intense sorrow, and yet Jeremiah is building up to something even more intense.

Then we come to our first reading. It’s as if we’ve labored and lamented as we’ve hiked up the steep hill of our sorrow. As we approach the top of the hill, our muscles ache and burn, but, somehow, we pick up the pace. A certain relief kicks in. It’s what Jeremiah says just before the verses we heard: “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope” (3:21).

What does the prophet urge us to call to mind? “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end.” Sure, many things cease and come to an end. Some things cease when we don’t want them to, and other things continue when we’d rather they just come to a quick end. [C'est la vie]! What do you expect in a fallen, broken, sin-infected world? But the steadfast love of our Lord never ceases. That’s the only sure thing to hold on to. His mercies never come to an end. They are the only certain things to keep us going in the midst of sorrows. And His mercies in Christ Jesus “are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

Our brief respite atop our hill of sorrow draws our attention away from ourselves, away from the mess around us, away from the wrongs we’ve received and the ones we’ve meted out, whoever we are. Prophet Jeremiah leads us to say, “‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in Him.’” Did you catch that? Our hope is not in getting even, or in unearthing institutional dirt. Our hope is not in some form of synodical leadership, whether securing another election victory or in changing administrations. Remember what the psalmist says: “Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation. When his breath departs he returns to the earth; on that very day his plans perish.” (Ps. 146:3-4). Our hope is not even in a certain radio show, its host, its producer, its restoration, or its resurrection.

No, our hope is solely and completely in our crucified and risen Savior Jesus Christ. “The LORD is my portion,” we learn to say—in all of life and through all of life. You see, “The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul that seeks Him.” After all, He is the One who climbed the greatest hill of sorrow. He is the One who found relief for us only in sacrificing Himself for us. He is the One whose death shows steadfast love. He is the One whose resurrection delivers never-ending mercies.

So, “It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” Let the laments and the sorrows come. We wait quietly for the Lord’s rescue and deliverance. You see, He sat alone in silence when our sin, our sorrow, and our death were laid on Him. When He put His mouth in the dust of our sin-wrecked lives and our hopes dashed by deadly, demonic deeds, He proved that we may have hope—hope in His forgiveness, hope in His life, hope in His salvation. He gave His cheek to the one who strikes; He endured the insults. And why? To show His unique, all-sufficient compassion “according to the abundance of His steadfast love.”

That’s the focal point of Jeremiah’s lament. Then he continues his alphabet-organized lamenting through chapters 3, 4 and 5. The Lord’s love and mercies sustain him to grapple with the ongoing reality of sin and sorrow. But in the end, as he still sits amid the rubble of fallen Jerusalem, Jeremiah now prays: “Restore us to Yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old” (5:21). With the Lord’s steadfast love and mercies, with His salvation and compassion, we can wend our way down the hill of our sorrows. Yes, our muscles still ache and burn. Yes, we reenter the carnage and rubble of our broken world and our dashed hopes. But we do so with the joy of our Lord’s cross-won forgiveness. We do so with His life that bursts forth from the empty tomb. Our Lord Jesus promises to restore and renew—in His way, in His time, and for our eternal good.

So just how do we wend our way through the rubble of this world? Just how do we rejoice with Easter joy in the midst of our sorrows? St. Peter helps us in our second reading. It’s a series of practical exhortations for us who are made alive by the steadfast love and mercies of Christ. “Abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.” The real war is not against other people, parties, or factions within Christ’s Church, or even in this man-made corporation called “synod.” No, the true battle is against what lies inside each one of us—the sin and death that infect us from within. If we would do more battle in that arena, then we wouldn’t have to worry as much about the “successism” of being in power or attaining it, then we wouldn’t have to resort to the tactics of secrecy and subversion with our fellow Christians.

St. Peter continues: “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable.” Why bother with what unbelievers think? “That they see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation.” How can they know there’s new life in Christ, if we don’t proclaim it in our deeds as well as our fine words?

And another exhortation: “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution.” Yes, we can even endure tyrannical leaders—both outside and inside the Church—because we have Christ and His steadfast love and mercies. “For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people.”

Then we hear the heart of Peter’s exhortations: “Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor.” Just as our Lord Jesus Christ freely served us by absorbing our and the world’s evil, we get to do the very same thing. No, not covering it up—least of all the evil that dwells within each one of us—but exposing it to our Lord’s cross-won compassions and resurrection mercies.

And, finally, St. Peter speaks to house-slaves who do the bidding of their master. Since Christ our Lord is the Master of His Church, we all are nothing but house-slaves, serving at His discretion, called to do His bidding. So, “Servants, be subject to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle, but also to the unjust.” It doesn’t matter if our position is high or low or somewhere in between—we are called to be servants. Let all institutional bureaucracy and every thought and motivation of “get-even-with-‘em-ism” be crucified and buried. Let the new life of serving Master Jesus rise with all of its simple humility and ongoing charity. Then we can learn and live as Peter reminds us: “If when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God.”

Yes, it’s radical. It’s also far too uncommon. But it is the fruit of our Lord’s steadfast love. It is the rejoicing that comes out of sorrow. As our Lord Himself says: “You have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (Jn. 16:22). Amen.

Homily - Easter 4 - Jubilate

Christian Joy
John 16:16-22

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Friedrich Nietzsche was the son of a Lutheran pastor and a German philosopher. Nietzsche developed a very bitter, anti-Christian, atheistic philosophy. He viewed Christianity as a blot, a stain, on the history of humankind. Hermann Sasse said this about Nietzsche: “His desperate destitution and loneliness is the loneliness of the modern man” (The Lonely Way, I.70). And yet we Christians can learn something from this bitter, unbelieving philosopher. Here’s one thing that Nietzsche said to Christians: “You must sing me a better song so that I learn to believe in your Redeemer; Why are his disciples so joyless in their salvation?” (The Lonely Way, I.70).

That’s a good question! And today we have a good, God-given answer. As Psalm 66(:1) says, “Make a joyful shout to God, all the earth!” In fact, that’s where today gets its name: “Rejoice! Sunday.” Why make a joyful shout to God? Why rejoice? Because of God’s great Easter victory! In Jesus Christ, God has conquered death. He has restored all of His creation. He has given new life and new meaning in life. It’s something to shout about. It gives great joy, great delight. And, as lonely, bitter Nietzsche reminds us, it’s what the world needs to hear: CHRISTIAN JOY.

In our Gospel reading we hear Jesus teaching His disciples and us about joy in the midst of sorrow. Jesus had gathered His disciples together on the night when He was betrayed into the hands of sinners. He knew that in a matter of hours He would be brutally beaten and then executed on a cross. His disciples were filled with sorrow. So He comforted them. And just as He comforted His disciples in our Gospel reading, He also comforts us now with the same words: “Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you.”

So, dear Christians, where is your joy? Where is that sheer delight in being raised with Christ, being forgiven in Christ, and living the holy, perfect life that He gives you in His water, His words, and His meal?

I know. It’s probably hiding—hiding under the burdensome weight of worldly sorrow. The disciples were weighed down with sorrow. Their Lord was leaving them. What would they do? How would they survive life in a hostile world? You see, they’re not that different from us. Nor are we that different from them.

Each of us has personal sorrows, to be sure. Perhaps it’s family turmoil, a son or daughter who just won’t listen and obey, or a parent who just doesn’t seem to understand. Perhaps it’s stress at work; the boss never seems satisfied; you feel like you can never do your job well enough. Perhaps it’s illness—physical illness, such as cancer or arthritis, or mental illness, such as depression. Perhaps it’s the loss of a loved one—and that sorrow never seems to go away completely. Perhaps it’s trouble paying the bills, or losing those few extra pounds. We have our sorrows.

And the physical life around us brings many sorrows too. Thunderstorms and tornadoes remind us how small we really are. We’d love to be in control of life and nature, and even figure out the path of the tornado or hurricane so that we can avoid the damage and loss of life. But when the storms strike, we get a wake up call. Just think of the flooding in recent weeks. We are pretty small compared to the ominous, dark rain clouds, the high-voltage lightning strikes, and the powerful, rumbling thunder. Yes, we have our sorrows.

But the greater sorrow comes in how the unbelieving world treats Christ and His Christians. Yes, Christ was crucified because people did not like it that they were wrong and He was right—about God, about death and life, about sin and forgiveness. They did not like it that God would come into the world in the flesh and teach us to repent of our sin. They did not like it that Jesus – not they – would restore the world. And Jesus restores not by demanding better lives, but by defeating death and giving grace and life.

So, to use Jesus’ words, we weep and lament, but the world rejoices. You see, the world did not like Jesus and His followers then. It still doesn’t now. Christians and Christian preachers are told, “Don’t mention Jesus,” in their prayers and messages. The media goes crazy over things like The DaVinci Code and supposed “Lost Tomb of Jesus,” as they try to undermine the sure footing of the Christian faith in God’s mercies in Christ. And sadly, some Christians give in and let these things shake their faith. Where’s the joy, then, in going with the world? Where’s the joy in not confessing Christ and His resurrection life? Our joy is hiding under the fear of not being liked by the world.

Where’s the comfort? Where’s the joy? It’s in the words of our Lord Jesus. He tells you what He told His disciples: “A little while.” The sorrow, the pain, the burdens of life in this death-infected world last only a little while. The disciples would be separated from Jesus only a little while. He would go to the cross, but He would rise again and return. He would go away from them, but He would come back after a little while. And He did, and that’s a good thing. You see, when Jesus went away, leaving His disciples in sorrow, He trampled down death, He reunited all people with God, and He brought life and immortality to light. He did that for His disciples then, for you now, and for all people. In His bitter, painful death and His sweet, delightful resurrection, He wins life and wholeness for you. Now that gives great joy!

And think about the joy that you receive every time you come into this place. Church is like no other place on earth. It’s heaven on earth. You see, here Jesus Christ comes into our midst. He comes in His message of mercy read, proclaimed and sung. He comes in His precious and holy Body and Blood. Here’s God, in the flesh, showering you with His grace and mercy, giving you His life. That’s Christian joy! A little while, and you will see Me, Jesus says. Here you get to “see” Jesus with the eyes of faith. You get to hear Him and taste Him. Here’s Christian joy!

So, what helps you endure the sorrows and burdens of life in this broken world? The joy of life in Jesus. What helps you make a difference in the world, in the very lives of people around you? The joy of Christ’s victory over death. What is the only thing that spurs on the Church to carry out her mission in the world? The sheer delight and joy that in Christ we are forgiven, in Christ we have life, in Christ we have perfect peace with God. It’s reality, and it gives great joy. Nietzsche, eat your heart out!

St. Athanasius was bishop, or “head pastor,” of the Church in Alexandria, Egypt, in the 300s. When he was a young man in his 20s, he wrote a little book called On the Incarnation. In this little book, Athanasius—whose name means “resurrection”—talks about how Christ’s victory over death changes how Christians look at life and death. Christians would face execution simply for confessing Christ, but they did it quite joyfully. The joy of life with Christ helped them laugh in the face of death. Listen to Athanasius:

When one sees [people], weak by nature, leaping forward to death, and not fearing its corruption nor frightened of the descent into Hades, but with eager soul challenging it; and not flinching from torture, but on the contrary, for Christ’s sake electing to rush upon death in preference to life upon earth, or even if one can be an eye-witness of men and females and young children rushing and leaping upon death for the sake of Christ’s religion; who is so silly, or who is so incredulous, or who so maimed in his mind, as not to see and infer that Christ, to Whom people witness, Himself supplies and gives to each the victory over death, depriving [it] of all [its] power in each one of them that hold His faith and bear the sign of the Cross. (Ch. 29)

Do you want to see Christian joy? Look at how we laugh at sorrow and death! Look at how we delight in Christ and His victory over death! That’s Christian joy. And it’s a joy that we can gladly show to the world. Amen.

Homily - Easter 3 - Midweek

Easter in Emmaus
Luke 24:13-35

Once upon a time, a long time ago, a short time ago, even today, there was a village called Emmaus. Emmaus was located about seven miles outside the city called Easter.

Every year the residents of Emmaus traveled to Easter. They began their journey on the Day of Palms. Their pastor led them on the journey, proceeding a mile a day until they arrived at Easter on the final day. Along the way they would pause to remember the events that led to the founding of Easter.

On Thursday of their journey, they would stop early and prepare a special meal that everyone ate together. It was the meal that the Founder of Easter had given for all the people of all time to come and enjoy. Then, the next day, they wore the dark, somber clothing of mourning and death. All the pilgrims of Emmaus wept on Friday, because they felt deeply the love of the One they called “Savior.” The next day, Saturday, they camped just outside Easter and prepared for the festive celebration. Excitement would build as they brought out their celebration clothes, flowers, and trumpets and prepared for the morning of entering Easter.

Finally, at dawn the next day, they entered the city of Easter. There they joined the people of Easter in singing hymns of praise. What a day of joy and gladness! The people of Emmaus believed sincerely in their risen Lord Jesus. They knew His cross and empty tomb were the heart and center of their life. They also looked forward to being raised to eternal life.

Then right after the celebration at Easter, the people of Emmaus would go home. This would take seven more days, because the joy and gladness of Easter stayed with them, and they were in no hurry to return to life in Emmaus. And they just couldn’t wait until next year—then they could rejoice in Easter all over again.

Finally, the Sunday after Easter came, and they went back to the tasks and routines of everyday life. For the next fifty weeks they hardly changed anything. Easter quickly became something that was a long year away.

One year, after they returned from Easter and resumed their Emmaus lives, a stranger came to town. The people were very fascinated by the stranger. He looked vaguely familiar, but they still couldn’t place him. He told them that he was a visitor from Easter. During that week the stranger wandered around Emmaus. He visited schools. He was seen in the library, the bank, even the jail. He went to the factory and the shopping center. He seemed to show up everywhere.

He spent a lot of time talking with the good people of Emmaus. Some folks told him, “You’re so fortunate to live in Easter. It really is too bad that Easter lasts only a short time every year. Oh, some day, when Emmaus is gone, then we’ll move to Easter and celebrate every day. Right now, though, we’re just too busy to spend much time over there.”

The stranger asked, “Why can’t Easter happen all the time, throughout the year?” The citizens of Emmaus had thought of the question; some had even asked the question of others on the return trip to Emmaus. “Easter is a long way off,” said the minister. “If we went there every day, it would lose its meaning. After all, the Good Book says, ‘Moderation in everything.’”

The school children would tell the stranger, “We have to study hard to be successful someday. Our moms and dads say we don’t have time for Easter.” High school students had different reasons, as they were preparing for life: “I’d feel weird about it. Easter is okay to visit, once in a while. It makes me feel good, but I don’t want to be a fanatic.”

Housewives agreed. “If you had to do all the work we have to do,” they said, “you wouldn’t even ask. Easter is a lot of work. We just don’t have time for it all the time.”

The stranger interviewed many workers and professionals: “Who would earn a living? Who would keep things going? There’s just too much to do. Easter is a nice place to visit, but you can’t really live there! Besides, what does it have to do with work and schedules and goals, the real stuff of life?”

At the bars they said, “This is where it’s at, man. Don’t bring that Easter stuff in here. It’s bad for business. We need to relax, keep things light. Easter is too serious.”

Well, the stranger visited others. He went to hospitals and jails, to homes and workplaces. He found many hurting people—people suffering from failure, sickness, trial, and frustration. “Easter doesn’t happen where we live,” they said. “We’re too sad and hungry and bitter. Easter is a nice place to visit, but it just won’t work here in Emmaus.”

Finally, on the next Sunday, the stranger called all the people of Emmaus together. They all came—the children, the teens, the young adults, the middle-aged and the elderly; the joyful and sad; the sick and the healthy; the poor and the wealthy.

The stranger addressed them all: “People of Emmaus, how slow you are in your hearts to believe! Sure, you know many facts about Easter in your heads, and you can even recite them. But in your heart and soul you’re missing the point. You went to Easter two weeks ago. Why did you go? What did you celebrate? You celebrated the resurrection of Jesus, whom you call Lord and Savior. But did that message change you? Or did you instead tuck your Lord into a little tomb once you returned to Emmaus? Have you sealed Him away from your day-to-day life?

The stranger was gentle as he continued: “You know the Easter message. It’s all there in Moses and the Prophets.” Now the minister was impressed with the stranger. “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into His glory?” Is it not necessary “that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in His name to all nations” (Lk. 24:47)?

These things all made sense, but the people of Emmaus still needed more. They needed more than a rousing speech or factual information. They needed the joy of life, the gladness of Easter that continues day by day, week after week. So, the stranger took some bread, gave thanks, and broke it. And suddenly, the people of Emmaus recognized the stranger: it was Jesus Himself!

At that point Jesus didn’t have to add a thing. Now it clicked. Easter did continue—every time they gathered at the Altar of their church. Every time the minister broke the bread and gave out the cup, the people of Emmaus realized that Jesus Himself was giving His own Body and Blood. They realized and trusted that whenever they wanted to celebrate Easter—the joy of Jesus’ resurrection life—all they had to do was go to the Altar, look at the Altar, and eat and drink at the Altar.

Then the folks of Emmaus began to notice a difference in their day-to-day life. The real stuff of life—the goals and schedules, the sicknesses and trials and frustrations, even the many other joys of life—began to be less pressing and yet have more meaning. The negative things of life did not seem so weighty and burdensome. The positive things of life did not seem, well, so all-consuming. When they celebrated Easter every week at the Altar, everything seemed to be much more real and much more joyous.

Homily - Easter 3 - Misericordias Domini

For this homily I am greatly indebted to Pr. Weedon, whose homily, passed out at our Pericope Study, I have "creatively appropriated" and modestly adapted. Enjoy, give all glory to our Good Shepherd and all credit to Pr. Weedon for this wonderful "parable sermon."

The Wolf & the Sheep-Shepherd
John 10:11-16

Once upon a time – and it was a real time, not just an imagined one – there was a wolf. He was old and very fat. You see, he had it easy. Whenever he wanted to eat, he would simply walk out the door of his cave and look at the sheep that grazed just outside. He’d eye this sheep or that one. Then, with minimal effort, he’d go after the one that made his mouth water, bring it down, and eat away. And the more he ate, the bigger he got, and the bigger he grew, the hungrier he got.

Sometimes he delighted in just being mean and nasty. Sometimes he would merely poke his head out the door of his cave and howl. All the sheep would quake and shiver at the sound of him. He’d chuckle to himself. “Yes, you’d better be afraid, you stupid little sheep, because one of these days I’ll devour you, and it won’t be very pleasant…for you, that is. Ha, ha!”

You see, this big, bad wolf had a name—a name that struck fear at its very utterance. The sheep only had to think of this name, and they’d get wobbly in the knees. Some would even faint on the spot. The wolf’s name was Death. And Death was always hungry and never satisfied. He was always eating sheep and always wanting more. And he stank. Oh, the very smell of him was worse than his name or his howl. The wolf named Death was just plain dreadful. But he was in charge and all the sheep knew it.

Then came a day when wolf Death was feeling hungrier than usual. He poked his head out the cave door. He took a deep breath as he began to roar, but then something caught his eye. And he couldn’t believe his eyes. Right there, in front of him, on his very doorstep, sat the fattest, juiciest sheep he’d ever laid his eyes on. What brazen boldness and cocky confidence this fat sheep had! So, the wolf drew in the biggest breath of air that his huge lungs could hold, and he let out an earth-rumbling howl. All the other sheep in the area turned tail and ran. They were afraid—more afraid than ever before. But the fat, plump, juicy sheep stood still. That sheep paid no attention at all to the wolf—just kept grazing as if he hadn’t heard the roar. Now, wolf Death was getting mad. He charged out the door and right up to that impertinent animal. Again he sucked air into his huge lungs, then he blew right in the sheep’s face. The sheep looked up and merely blinked as the hideous odor of decay blasted against his face. The sheep just looked at the wolf, completely unconcerned.

Now the wolf worked himself into a tizzy. “Don’t you know who I am?” he snarled. The sheep looked at him and said, “Yes, I know.” Calm. Peaceful. The other sheep began to creep back, ever so cautiously, keeping their distance, to watch the confrontation. They couldn’t believe what they saw. “Well,” snarled the wolf, “aren’t you afraid?” The fat, plump sheep looked wolf Death right in the eyes and said, “Of you? You must be joking!” Now the wolf was livid. He growled in a low, menacing tone: “You’re in for it, lamb chops. And I’m going to make it slow and painful for you.” After a moment of silence, the sheep simply said, “I know.”

The other sheep watched with intense interest. They had never seen anything like this before. But when the wolf pounced, they jumped in fear. A great sadness filled them. They had had a fleeting hope, a daring thought, that just this once the wolf would not get his way. But their hopes were dashed. It was an awful and ugly sight. The wolf sank his teeth in to the plump sheep. He ripped his flesh. He chowed down. And, as promised, it was a slow and painful process. When the wolf finished, there was nothing left of the sheep. The wolf looked at the other sheep, his grimacing face smeared red with blood, and he belched with a cruel glee. They turned tail and ran, knowing that he’d come for one of them soon enough.

The wolf went back to his cave. He continued to lick his chops, savoring the flavor. He had never before tasted a sheep quite so good. The meat was not tough at all, but quite tender and rich, altogether satisfying. Then a thought hit him, a thought just a little disturbing. For once, his insatiable hunger had been satisfied. “Ah, no matter,” he thought, and went to sleep.

When morning came, the wolf did not feel quite right. His tummy was beginning to ache. It had never happened before. He would normally wake up ravenous and devour about a dozen sheep before the dew was off the grass. But not this morning. He tummy was grumbling. By noon the discomfort was too much. He felt positively ill. Normally, he would inflict fear and pain on the sheep, but this day he got a taste of real pain, and it frightened him. He kept thinking back to that brazen fat sheep he had eaten the day before, the one that tasted so strangely good. Could it have been poisoned, or diseased or something? Soon he stopped thinking altogether. The pain was too unbearable. He rolled around on the floor of his den. He howled and yammered.

Outside, the other sheep heard the strange noises and didn’t know at all what to make of them. They crept, oh, so cautiously, closer to the cave door. They turned their heads to listen. What could it mean?

Sometime later, in the dark of night, the wolf let out a shrill, convulsing howl. Something was alive and moving inside his gullet. That something pushed and poked and prodded. Then, suddenly, that something pierced a hole through the wolf’s gullet, ripped it open, and burst through it. And that something—or rather, Someone—stepped out of the hole of that massive, stinking stomach. The wolf felt like he was dying. And I suppose in a way he was.

The wolf did not recognize the figure that stepped out of its belly; it was completely unknown to him. That Someone looked like a shepherd. He’d heard of such a critter, but he’d never actually met one. With a staff in his hand, the Shepherd walked around and stood facing the wolf. And he began to laugh. He laughed, and his laughter burst open the door of the wolf’s den. He laughed, and the sheep were bewildered, wondering what was happening inside. He laughed and looked the wolf right in the eye.

“So, you don’t recognize me, old foe? I grazed just outside your door three days ago. You promised that I would die horribly, and you kept your promise. But what will you do with Me now?”

“You?” the wolf gasped. He recognized the voice. This Shepherd really was the sheep that he had devoured. “You! But how? Ooh! The pain!” The Shepherd smiled and said, “Well, I think you’re pretty harmless now, my friend. Just try to eat some of My sheep now. I promise you, that just as fast as you swallow them down, I will lead them right out through that hole I made in your stomach. And then you’ll never be able to touch them again! Ha, ha!”

The wolf howled in fear, in pain, and in rage. But there was nothing he could do. The Shepherd had fooled him good! Then the Shepherd stepped outside the door and called the sheep together. They also knew His voice. They’d heard it before. They stood before the Lamb who had become the Shepherd, and they listened as he told them what would happen to them. “You’ll die too. He’ll come out in a few days hungrier than ever. He’ll swallow you down, as if nothing has changed. But don’t worry. Everything has changed. I punched a hole right through his belly, and so when you go in, I promise you, I’ll bring you out again.”

Once upon a time, and that time was some 2000 years ago. And the promise still holds: “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand” (Jn. 10:27-28). It’s the promise and the comfort of the Resurrection. It’s the promise and the comfort that comes to us yet again today in His Holy Supper. Here we taste the very Body and Blood that went into the wolf’s mouth, but which the wolf could not hold. Remember this promise as you eat and drink: “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn. 6:54). Let that old wolf howl and snarl. We know there’s a huge gaping hole in his tummy. We know the Sheep who is the Shepherd. And our Good Shepherd knows us. Amen.

Homily - Easter 2 - Midweek DS

Gathered Around His Words and His Wounds
John 20:19-31

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Did you catch the pattern? Sunday. Disciples gathered. Doors shut. Jesus. The sight of His wounds in a living body. Overflowing joy. A commission to carry forgiveness out into the world.

But Thomas missed the gathering. Perhaps he was golfing. Perhaps he was fishing. Perhaps he was shopping at the after-Easter sales. Maybe he was home moping. Maybe his siesta lasted a bit longer than usual. We’re not told why he wasn’t there, and there’s a reason for that.

Because it doesn’t matter WHY he wasn’t there. What matters is that he wasn’t there; he missed out. And notice what happened because he missed out on that special gathering: Thomas refuses to believe.

So, in his unbelief Thomas lays down his conditions. Unbelief will do that to you. It makes you lay down conditions for God to meet before you’ll trust Him. Thomas says he must see the wounds with his own eyes and touch them with his own hands. Then he’ll see about believing.

The Lord could have appeared to Thomas by himself on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, or on Thursday, Friday or Saturday. Any of them would have done. But the Lord didn’t do that. He let Thomas stew in his unbelief for a whole week. And then see what happened. Deja vu!

Sunday. Disciples gathered. Doors shut. Jesus. The sight of His wounds. Overflowing joy. This time truant Thomas was present. And the presence of Jesus among the gathered disciples brings Thomas from unbelief to full-blast confession: “My Lord and my God!”

Jesus responds to that. Thomas had been brought to faith by seeing. When he saw the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side, he came to confess that his Lord and his God had been raised from the dead just as He had promised. But Jesus is setting a pattern now, and He’s thinking of more than Thomas on that second Sunday of Easter. He’s thinking of you. And so he says to Thomas: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

But if seeing does not bring you to faith, what does? The Gospel holds the answer. It’s all about what happens on the First Day of the week, which is also the 8th day. It’s the day that goes beyond our seven-day, regular week. On the First and 8th Day, we have a miracle. The disciples of Jesus gather. The Risen Lord comes into their midst. He comes with His wounds, His Spirit, His breath, AND His words. “These are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.”

When Jesus’ people gather, on Sundays or Wednesdays, the miracle happens again and again. Yes, there’s more Jesus than can ever fit into a book, however, Jesus has given His people a book around which to gather. A book where the breath of Jesus—the breath that IS the Spirit of God—still blows and calls from unbelief to faith. A book that is opened and read. Words are heard—concrete words; words about Jesus; Jesus’ own words. The Spirit breathed them all. They come from Jesus, and they’re all about Him. We read them, and when we do, we don’t just remember our Lord. No. We confess that Jesus is with us in His words. He still speaks to us! That’s why we stand. That’s why we sing out “Alleluia!” as we greet the One who comes to us in His words. That’s why we sometimes turn and face the Word as it marches down the aisle and stands in our midst. After all, He has promised: “If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him” (Jn. 14:23).

Now the One who comes to us in His words is also the One who comes to show His wounds and speak peace and bring joy. So when the words of Jesus are spoken over bread and wine, we have what those words promise: “This is my body, given for you. This is My blood, shed for you. For the forgiveness of sins.” Thomas was invited to touch and believe. We are invited to taste and believe. Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!

Body and blood remind us of the wounds. After all, you only get body and blood separated from one another when there’s a wound. So every time we gather at this holy Table we proclaim His death and His resurrection, and the Resurrected One feeds us with His Body and His Blood.

You can’t see it from where you sit, but the top of the altar reminds us of this. Five little crosses are carved into the tabletop—two on each end and one in the middle. What are they there for? Just to be pretty? Hardly! They are a confession of faith. What gets placed upon this altar is the very Body and Blood wounded and flowing from five Jesus’ wounds—two in the hands, two in the feet, and one in the side. These five little crosses confess that on this altar we have the very Body and Blood that hung upon the cross for us. That’s what our Risen Lord gives us to eat and to drink. And when we see and taste of the wounds, we also receive the word of peace: “The peace of the Lord be with you always.” And then the joy: “Thank the Lord and sing His praise; tell ev’ry one what He has done!”

When? On the Lord’s Day. When Jesus comes into the midst of His gathered disciples and speaks His peace and brings the joy of sins forgiven and calls from unbelief to faith. But the joy does not end here.

The disciples go out and announce—as they did to Thomas. “We have seen the Lord.” So we are sent out from this gathering where Jesus has come to be with us, where we have known Him in His words and in His wounds, in His Body and Blood.

We are sent forth to tell people like Thomas—people who wallow in the sadness of thinking that death is the end of the road—that there is One who went farther. We are sent to tell people like Thomas—people who think that their sins still hang around their own necks—that there is One who Himself lifted that burden and carried it long ago to give them peace and joy. We are sent to tell one and all. And not just that there is such a One, and that there is such a forgiveness, and that there is such an eternal life. But we are also sent to tell them WHERE this Risen One can be found, where faith is given, and where forgiveness and joy and peace may be had by all who come. We are sent to tell them the great meaning of the First day and 8th day. After all, it’s the Lord’s Day when our Savior Jesus still comes to be with us as we gather together in His name, and around His words and His wounds. Amen.