Homily for Evening Prayer of Lent 5

Covered by Innocent Death
2 Samuel 11:1-12:14 & Matthew 27:32-66 (Passion Reading V)   

How we love to cover up our sins! David sets the example, and we gladly follow in his footsteps. He was Israel’s greatest king, after all, a man after God’s own heart, a good role model, to be sure. But notice how he, a man who could sing God’s praises like no one else, could also cover up his sins like no one else.

It began before the cover-up, before the murder, before the adultery, even before the coveting of another man’s beautiful bride. It began as David neglected his vocation, his God-given calling. It was “the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle.” It’s what kings do. It’s in their “job description” under the heading “Defend and protect the citizens of your nation.” But that one time David neglected that duty. He presumed he had better things to do, more important things to accomplish – like play peeping tom and ogle the topless beauty next door. “Who is she? Oh, Bathsheba. Bring her to me. But keep it hush, hush. No one needs to know.”

God knew, though.

Then David, the suave, debonair, romantic lover, easily concealed his sin of neglecting his vocation. And one sin led to another quite naturally and all too easily. A little sweet talk. A lot of passion. Don’t worry about the guilt or others finding out. After all, he’s the king. Surely he knows how to keep such things under wraps. They don’t call it “Secret Service” for nothing.

Then the big “Uh-oh!” She’s what? Pregnant? Oh, my! Everyone will know soon enough, especially when she starts showing. Hmm. How to fix this? How to clean up this unfortunate mess? Ah-ha! Bring hubby home. Get him to sleep with his wife. Everyone will think it’s Uriah’s child. No one will be the wiser.

Except God.

It turns out that Uriah the Hittite, the foreigner, the little man from an unbelieving people, had more honor and integrity than powerful, respected King David. Enjoy the comforts of home while his army buddies were still out suffering the heat of battle and the fog of war? Perish the thought! And perish David’s cover-up plan too, as it turned out. Even stone-cold drunk, Uriah had and displayed more honor and integrity than King David, intent on covering up his sins. So when Uriah would not participate and cooperate, David would eliminate, in the battle, where it would be sad, to be sure, but only natural. Who would suspect a thing?

God would. And God did.

Notice the pattern. David’s first unnoticeable sin—neglecting his vocation—led to another—coveting—and then another—adultery—and then another—murder—and all under his man-made cloak of secrecy. But God’s X-ray vision sees right through the sheer and flimsy strategies we use to cover up our many transgressions.

God sent Pastor Nathan to confront and rebuke King David. Not only was he risking his very life—because the King could easily say, “Out of my sight and off with his head”—but he was about to do the more dangerous task of exposing sin. So Nathan shrouds his rebuke in an innocent story: a poor man cheated out of his only lamb by a rich man who should have taken from his own God-given wealth. When David heard the innocent-sounding story, his passion for justice burned hot. You see, covering up your own sins often makes you quite self-righteous, hotly indignant, and overly judgmental about the sins of other people. All of that pent up energy from keeping your own sins under wraps explodes and erupts at the least little transgression … of someone else.

Nathan’s rebuke of David comes in the simplest of words: “You are the man!” He might as well point the finger and say those same words to each of us: “You are the man! You are the woman! You are the boy! You are the girl! Yes, you are the one who has sinned. Cover it up all you like; you cannot hide it from God. Conceal it under your every excuse and rationalization; hide it with deeds that appear honorable and even devout; but you still cannot fool God. As He says elsewhere: “Whoever conceals his transgression will not prosper.” Man-devised cover-ups never work. No way, no how!

But here is where David becomes a salutary role model once again. He simply confessed his sin and sins—no excuses, no justifications, no more covering up. “I have sinned against the LORD.” They are words for you too—and words to utter with no excuses, no justification, no more covering up. “[I] have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what [I] have done and by what [I] have left undone.” “Lord, to You I make confession: / I have sinned and gone astray, / I have multiplied transgression, / Chosen for myself my way. / Led by You to see my errors, / Lord, I tremble at Your terrors” (LSB, 608:1).

Then, for David and for you, God’s words delivered through the pastor’s mouth come rushing in to heal, to restore, and to give life. “The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die.” Sins exposed, forgiveness uttered, life bestowed! What a sweet and glorious moment! What a life-changing and liberating message! God’s own forgiveness comes through the voice of a man, a fellow sinner. As God says in the Proverb: “but he who confesses and forsakes [his transgressions] will obtain mercy.”

There’s a curious little conclusion to David’s confession and absolution, however. Yes, David confessed, but that’s not why he was forgiven. Merely confessing and forsaking our transgressions does not earn or achieve God’s life-giving forgiveness. Listen to God’s words uttered through Pastor Nathan’s mouth: “Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the LORD, the child who is born to you shall die.”

At first we might hear these words as God unfairly withdrawing His absolution, or suddenly hiding His mercy behind a cloak of retribution. But let’s take these words as glorious and comforting Gospel instead! The LORD put away David’s sins; he would not die. But the Child born to David—the Son of David yet to come, ten centuries down the road—He would die, and He would die carrying David’s specific, concrete, and now-exposed sins. The Absolution was certainly free for David, just as it’s free for you and me. But it is very costly for the Child of David named Jesus. No, you will not die for your sins, God says, but the Son of David will. The Son of David has. As we sing: “For Your Son has suffered for me, / Giv’n Himself to rescue me, / Died to save me and restore me. / Reconciled and set me free. / Jesus’ cross alone can vanquish / These dark fears and soothe this anguish” (LSB 608:3)

And we – like role-model David before us – are now covered by an innocent death. Instead of feebly covering our sins, and multiplying them exponentially in the process, we can take comfort in the innocent death of the sinless Son of God and Son of David. When Jesus died on that cross, the centurion marveled saying, “Truly this was the Son of God!” He could have said just as truly, “This was the Son of David—the innocent Child whose death covers our sin.” And when the greater Child of David covers the sins that we expose in Confession, they remain truly covered—covered by His innocent blood, covered from God, covered from us, covered and never to be exposed again. The Lord who has suffered and died for you has put away your sin; you shall not die. Amen.

A Gem from Luther

Here's a gem of a quote from Luther, which was part of a larger reading at this morning's Holy Thursday Morning Prayer:

"Therefore, the Sacrament is given as a daily pasture an sustenance, that faith may refresh and strengthen itself so that it will not fall back in such a battle, but become ever stronger and stronger. The new life must be guided so that it continually increases and progresses. But it must suffer much opposition. For the devil is such a furious enemy. When he sees that we oppose him and attack the old man, and that he cannot topple us over by force, he prowls and moves about on all sides. He tries every trick and does not stop until he finally wears us out, so that we either renounce our faith or throw up our hands and put up our feet, becoming indifferent or impatient. Now to this purpose the comfort of the Sacrament is given when the heart feels that the burden is becoming too heavy, so that it may gain here new power and refreshment." (Large Catechism, V:24-27; Concordia, pp. 434-35)

Christ in the Chalice

They say, "A picture's worth a thousand words." Check out this picture, taken by yours truly, of the chalice on the altar here at Hope, St. Louis. I get to see this view every Wednesday evening when we celebrate the Eucharist (Sunday's Eucharist is set up a bit differently with more vessels). I actually get to see it "upside down" from what you see here, as the crucifix on the altar reflects in the chalice from opposite where I stand. I've simply rotated the picture here so that the crucifix is properly oriented.

I call it "Christ in the Chalice," and I'd say that it communicates more than a thousand words. It actually communicates the One - the Word Himself - whom we receive when we drink from the chalice. Remember what our eternal Word Himself says:

"Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him" (John 6:54-56).

Yes, drink from the chalice, and we receive Christ Himself, and with Him, His eternal life and His abiding presence with us. Says a whole lot more than a mere thousand words, don't you think?

Homily - Holy Thursday

Here's tonight's homily for Holy Thursday ... and I absolutely love this icon (never seen it before; just now found it) that brings out the Calvary on the Altar theme that von Schenk drives home!

“Calvary Brought Down to Today”
Holy (Maundy) Thursday
Exodus 12:1-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-32; John 13:1-15, 34-35

We have left the season of Lent, and now we enter the “Holy Triduum” – the Holy Three Days. The season of Lent has prepared us for this most sacred time by drawing us to our Baptism and by reminding us of the real, spiritual battles we wage against our own sin, our own fallen flesh, the fallen world, and the devil himself. Lent has prepared us to fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith. Now we stand at Calvary’s holy mountain to do just that.

Our first reading reminds us of the Passover sacrifice and meal. For any other people, it looked like any other kind of meal. But for Israel, the people of God, it was their meal of deliverance. Sacrifice a lamb, smear its blood on the doorposts, roast and eat that lamb, and off they went – out of slavery and into freedom. Talk about a colossal “eat and run”! But it was God’s way of delivering His people. It was God’s way of preparing them for the greater Lamb who would take on human flesh and blood and take away the sin of the world.

In our second reading we hear how the Old Testament Passover becomes our New Testament Passover. We too have a sacrifice and a meal that sets us free. To folks outside the Church, it looks like a pretty poor meal indeed – only a little bite of bread and a small sip of wine. But to God’s redeemed people, to us, it is our Lord’s Meal of deliverance – freeing us from our own sin, our own fallen flesh, our fallen world, and even from Satan himself. And all of this because of the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. You see, He was sacrificed and roasted on the Cross; His blood was smeared on the doorposts of the Cross. And off we go, out of slavery in our sin and death and into the freedom of forgiveness and the light of God’s life.

Then, in our Gospel reading, we hear of the great love of our Savior Jesus Christ. It happened in the hustle and bustle of celebrating the Passover meal. Jesus took off His outer garment and wrapped Himself with a towel. He poured water into a basin and got down on His hands and knees to wash His disciples’ calloused, sweaty, dirt encrusted feet. What great love! What great sacrifice! And then our Lord gave His new commandment: “that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.”

All three of these things converge into one in these Holy Three Days. The Passover sacrifice and deliverance; our Lord’s Meal of Body and Blood for forgiveness and life; and our Lord’s command to love one another with the sacrifice of oneself: they all combine into what one pastor once called “the Calvary Love.” Let’s listen to Pastor Berthold von Schenk (The Presence, pp. 88-92).

Mark well this amazing situation. Jesus instituted the Sacrament of the Altar in the city of Jerusalem at the time of the great feast. What was uppermost in the mind of the people in Jerusalem? Was it not fundamentally the idea of sacrifice? That is the word which echoed and re-echoed through the streets.

It is before the final sacrifice, the culmination of all sacrifices, that Jesus says: “This is My Body, given for you.” Then He speaks these important words: “Do this in remembrance of me.” Sacrificial words in a sacrificial setting, at a sacrificial moment. There can be no doubt that when Jesus instituted the Sacrament He associated it with the sacrifice of the Cross.

Now listen to Paul again, “As often as ye do this, ye do show forth the Lords death till He come.” Holy Communion and Calvary are always linked together. We cannot add to Calvary. We cannot repeat it. How then, is our Communion related to the Sacrifice of the Cross? We can get some help by taking note of the Jewish sacrifice. There were three parts. As in the Jewish Temple sacrifices there was the presentation of the victim, the slaying of the victim, and the taking of blood into the Holy of Holies, so in Christ these all were fulfilled.

At Bethlehem the Lamb was presented
At Calvary the Lamb was slain.
At the Ascension the Lamb ascended into the veil and now has our High Priest and Advocate presents forever the sacrifice once offered upon the Cross.

Calvary, then, is now in Heaven, an eternal fact, where the Master Himself, in His risen and glorified Body, with His wounds shining more brilliant than all created light, obtains mercy for you and for me. And the Altar?—Here we have under the veils of bread and wine, the same Body once crucified, now risen and glorified. And in Communion, as nowhere else, the believer is caught up in this great continual act, this timeless offering of the one sacrifice on the Cross.

The Church on earth and the Church in heaven is one Church. It cannot be broken up. The Body of Christ cannot be torn asunder. On the Cross the sacrifice was perfectly offered. Now our Lord continually pleads this sacrifice. At the Altar the Christian Church pleads the same offering which our Lord is continually offering in heaven, only now under the veils of bread and wine.

Remember, there are not two sacrifices. There is one sacrifice, the same sacrifice, in one Church, presented and pleaded before the Father. The sacrifice of Christ cannot be divided into two parts. Therefore, at the Altar we touch Calvary. The same Body which was offered then is present at the Altar; and every time I communicate I show forth His death, the same death. I link myself to it, and Calvary becomes a reality. At Communion we are actually on the mount called Calvary. We see it all. Some of us stand, as did John, in mystified wonder; others, like Mary, in love and tears; some, like the soldiers; and others, still, like the Centurian [sic], and say: “Surely, this is the Son of God.” The Lord’s Supper is not the symbol of the death of Christ, but it is the personal appropriation of the person of Christ in His death. The Communicant takes the crucified Saviour into Himself as the bread and wine serve as carriers…. This is what Paul meant when he said: “Is it not the Communion of the Blood of Christ?” (1 Cor. 10).

The whole sacrifice of Calvary is focused to a point at the Altar. It is brought home and made a reality as I kneel to receive the true Body and Blood given and shed for me. Then it was offered on the Cross, now, in heaven triumphant—through the bread and wine. Here I truly touch Calvary, which is now being pleaded by my High Priest. Here I find the secret whereby I can touch my God, the secret whereby divine love can also be born in me and thus radiate through me into the lives of my fellow-men.

Here at the Altar I find love. Here, as I touch Calvary and the pure love of Golgotha radiates in and through me, I can say, “Take me, Lord Jesus. Take also my body, which I am willing to break for Thee; take also my blood which I am willing to shed for Thee. I offer my whole life to Thee through Thy dear life by which alone I can be saved, by which alone I can help bring to salvation my wife, my children, my home, my friends.”

At the Altar is the cresset where we get our fire of the Calvary Love. How this love is needed! We have lost much of it. We have to invent all kinds of methods to attract the people. We must advertise, we must entertain. Why? Because the Church has lost its way to the Altar it has also lost its way into the heart of the world. For the pure love of Calvary alone can save the world. It is that love for which the world is aching. But we must first recapture it ourselves.

Let us find the reality of Calvary, of love, by the way of the Altar. There we can again touch the wounds of Christ; and by touching the wounds of Christ, we shall touch the wounds of the world.

May God grant us a joyous celebration of these Holy Three Days as we find Calvary brought down to today at the Altar. In the name of the Father, and of the X Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

"The A-B-Cs of Lent - Absolution"

“The A-B-Cs of Lent” - Absolution
1 John 1:5-10; Matthew 9:1-8; Small Catechism, Confession

We continue looking at “The A-B-Cs of Lent.” For the first two weeks we looked at the “B” – Baptism. Tonight we look at the “A” – Absolution.

Last week we heard what Baptism means for daily life. Baptism is not just a one-time bath; it’s a daily, ongoing dying and rising of the Christian. We sinners die daily in the death of Jesus, and daily we rise in the life of Jesus. This dying and rising continues until our own death and then our resurrection on the Last Day at Jesus’ appearing.

This daily dying and rising brings us to what we rightly call the “Third Sacrament” – Holy Absolution. And what a poor, neglected Sacrament it is! This really should not be, especially in church that pledges herself to the Lutheran Confessions. Those Confessions do call Absolution a “Sacrament.” They also call it the “living voice” of the Gospel. They even say, “it would be wicked to remove personal absolution” from our churches. But tell a fellow Lutheran that your pastor actually offers Private Confession and Absolution, or even sets and publishes certain times for it, and I guarantee you that jaws will drop and eyebrows will rise. However, restoring the Sacrament of Holy Absolution is like rediscovering a priceless family treasure that’s been lost for years. Instead of putting it back in the musty basement, let’s bring it out to enjoy. After all, if it was wicked to remove private/personal Absolution back in 1530, it would be doubly wicked not to restore it now that we are rediscovering it—unless something has changed about our sin and Jesus’ forgiveness!

Confession and Absolution is our constant return to our Baptism. It’s our ongoing return to the waters that first brought us life and cleansing from God. Confession is so basic to the Christian life that Luther could say this in the Large Catechism: “When I urge you to go to confession, I am simply urging you to be a Christian.” Unbelievers deny their sins, gloss over them, cover them up, and have no use for forgiveness. Christians, though, confess their sins and are forgiven.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls Absolution without personal confession a form of “cheap grace,” a cross-less Christianity. It’s trying to have repentance without shame, contrition without guilt. It’s like an out of court settlement—just pay the money and admit no specific wrongdoing. God, however, does not work that way—no back room bargaining with Him. Face the truth of our sin and the death of Christ for our sin.

As we said with the Catechism, Holy Absolution has two parts. The first is that we confess our sins. To “confess” means to “say the same thing,” to say back what we’ve heard, just like a little child learning to talk by repeating what she’s heard. We might feel bad about ourselves; we might have low self-esteem; we might feel guilty or depressed. But those are not the main problems. God tells us: “You are sinners.” That’s the main problem—not what we do or feel, but who we are. So we confess, “Yes, Lord, I am a sinner.” And what is a sinner? A sinner is an enemy of God; one who tries to dethrone God and put himself/herself on that throne; one who fears, loves, and trusts himself/herself above God. That’s the truth. And in Confession, we speak the truth about ourselves.

The opposite of confession is denial. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” When we deny our sickness of sin and its symptoms of sinful thoughts, words, and deeds, we are only fooling ourselves. Just think of how irate we might get if someone called us a “sinner” or caught us in something and said, “You are sinning.” But it’s the truth; it’s what we are! “If we say that we have not sinned, we make [God] a liar, and his word is not in us.” Our past and our present testify against us. We are sick with sin, and we have sinned.

Confession puts the past and the present into concrete words. Sure, we can confess generally, as we do on Sunday mornings: “We have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” But we also need to confess specifically, “those sins which we know and feel in our hearts.” And feeling in our hearts need not be only the ton-of-bricks sins; it also includes the sins that feel more like little pin pricks, because they are still sins. And yet we need not worry about the mathematics of “how many” sins to confess. “Who can discern his errors?” the Psalmist cries. “Declare me innocent from hidden faults” (Ps. 19:12). There’s no end to the lists that each of us could make. And at the same time we don’t want to be satisfied with a generic, all-purpose confession, the kind that you, I, and 6 ½ billion other people in the world could all say together. “I, a poor, miserable sinner.” True enough, yes, but what makes you say that?

General confession without specific confession runs the risk of merely bad-mouthing ourselves. That’s not telling the truth. That’s using a surface truth to cover over the deeper truth, so that we don’t have to face it. And specific confession run amok can lead us into a perverse kind of pride, bragging about our weaknesses and airing our dirty laundry for everyone to see—as happens in the so-called “online confessionals.” Speaking the truth of our sin means neither kicking the corpse of our body of death, nor putting it on display.

We make our confession in three directions—to God, to the neighbor, and to our pastor. First, a Christian always confesses to God, and can always confess to God directly, as we do in the Lord’s Prayer and in our personal prayers. It’s your privilege as baptized children of God. However, too often we use this privilege as an artful dodge and easy excuse: “I can confess directly to God; therefore, I don’t need to confess to another person.” That’s not humility; it’s pride. How odd that we are ashamed to admit our sinful words and deeds to fellow sinners, but we can be so proud to admit them before the Lord of heaven and earth, who treats sin as fire treats gasoline!

While we certainly may confess directly to God, He always deals with us through the external Word—through Baptism, through the Supper, through the Gospel proclaimed. The person who says, “I can confess directly to God, therefore, I don’t need the Church,” misses the point. It’s not our confession that matters; it’s God’s spoken forgiveness. Just as God deals with us in the incarnate Lord Jesus, He also deals with us through the earthly, creaturely means of water, words, and bread and wine. For Absolution, God uses the earthly, creaturely sound waves that emanate from mouths and go into earholes.

Second, a Christian also confesses to the neighbor, especially when he/she has sinned against the neighbor. Whenever we hurt or harm another person, we need to confess it to that person, and then forgive one another as God has forgiven us. We need to let Jesus get between us, or else our sins will push us apart. That’s how we pray in the Lord’s Prayer—a double absolution, if you will—that our Father in heaven would forgive us as we forgive others. But we are so out of practice! Our tongues are tied in knots. The language of confession sounds so foreign to our ears because we don’t use it. Instead, we harbor grudges and resentments. We nurse quarrels for years. We isolate and alienate each other. Dear friends, this should not be—especially in the Christian congregation that God institutes to be a place overflowing with forgiveness. Just like Nathan went to David, every Christian has God’s call and command to go to the brother or sister, rebuke the sin, and restore the sinner in forgiveness. Of all places and institutions in the world, the Church is God’s very own “laboratory” where the conversation of confession is practiced and the healing of forgiveness is applied among His baptized children.

The third direction of our confession is to our pastor. Now, there are several good reasons for doing this. First, your pastor is ordained to hear confessions. That’s what we put him here for. Hearing confessions is one of the jobs given in his ordination vow. Second, he is equipped by training and practice to help others sharpen and deepen their confession. He can focus them on the Word of God. Third, he is bound by a solemn vow to secrecy, something to which a close friend is not bound. If a pastor breaks the seal of confession, he should be dismissed, no questions asked.

Fourth, the pastor is a public, corporate person; he holds an office. The pastor does not speak for himself; he only speaks for Christ and for the whole Church. The pastor is a “minister,” a servant of Jesus Christ, a steward of God’s mysteries revealed in Christ. He’s not a superior, but a servant. He serves not “from above,” but “from below.” He is not there to condemn, but to forgive. In fact, that’s what the Lord put him here to do. He is under holy orders to forgive sins. A friend may forgive you simply to keep your friendship. A family member may forgive you just to have peace in the family. We have plenty of family and friends. But pastors? We have precious few of them. A pastor forgives by the divine order of the crucified, risen, and reigning Son of God. He speaks, not for his own person, but for the person of Jesus. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like the pastor, or if he doesn’t like you. His forgiveness is Christ’s forgiveness. It is sure and certain. And it is addressed specifically to you, specifically for your particular sins. That’s really all that matters.

And now we come to the second main part, the more important part of Confession: the Absolution. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Absolution is spoken forgiveness, release, and freedom from sin. God releases the sinner from his/her sin. He puts our sin “as far as the east is from the west” (Ps. 103:12). He buries it in the death of Jesus. He cleanses us with His holy, precious blood.

God says, “I absolve you. I forgive you.” This is no cheap, idle talk. It’s no sappy, saccharine sentimentality that says, “Smile, be happy, God loves you.” No, this is a very costly word from God to you. It cost the Son of God His very life. He sweated and suffered, bled and died so that this forgiveness talk might be spoken. It’s a word anchored in the past, nailed to the bloody cross of Calvary. It’s a word that reaches through time into the here and now, into our very lives. It reaches into our ears and minds and hearts and says, “Christ died for you.” It’s a word authorized and approved by the crucified and risen Son of God Himself, freshly risen from the dead with the wounds to prove it. He breathed His Spirit and His words into His disciples and said, “If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld” (Jn 20:23).

Sometimes people are offended by the Absolution. “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” The unbelieving Pharisees asked that of Jesus. “How dare that guy speak as though he were God!” Well, people should be offended. The Absolution is as offensive as the Incarnation of the Son of God. It’s as offensive as the God who wears diapers and sleeps in a manger, or the God who hangs naked and bleeding on a cross. Only God can forgive. That’s true. And God only forgives through His Son, who became Man, who speaks through His Church and the Holy Ministry that He ordained to speak. In the Absolution we hear the living voice of God. “So if there is a heart that feels its sin and desires consolation, it has here a sure refuge when it hears in God’s Word that through a man God looses and absolves him from his sins” (Large Catechism, V.14).

Do we have to go to Confession? Does a thirsty deer question if it has to drink from a cold mountain stream? Does a hungry person ask if he has to eat a free meal offered to him? Does one who hungers and thirsts for righteousness ask if he has to hear a word of forgiveness from Christ? Does a Christian ever ask if he/she has to be forgiven? Do we have to go to Confession? You already know the answer. Of course, you don’t have to go. God never forces anyone to be forgiven. Instead, you get to be forgiven. And that’s always a free gift! Amen.

Comfort from Anonymous Confession?

In response to my homily posted for the midweek Evening Prayer service of Lent 2, someone named "Anonymous" commented that a person can relieve the stress of their sins by confessing anonymously and online. As soon as I posted my response, I figured that it might be worthy of a full-fledged post.

Recently, I had the opportunity to deal with the phenomenon of online confessions in Bible class, a couple of different times even. I had come across stories heralding the comeback of the confessional, that is, confessing one's sins (not the booth! :-), and in each story the phenomena of online confessionals and shopping mall confessionals (with an on-duty priest, as I recall) were mentioned.

While I certainly applaud the comeback and ascent of confessing sins--after all, the whole life of a Christian is one of repentance!--I also puzzle over the misguided notion that merely confessing sins--whether online behind the anonymity of a user name and password, or writing them on a piece of paper and throwing it into the fire, etc., etc.--is enough. That seems too much like feeling sick, having the symptoms of the flu, and merely saying to myself, "I have the flu." Merely getting to that point still hasn't given me the true healing and restored health that I need!

Only the Absolution can do that, where sins are concerned. Absolution is the real medicine, the real "stress reliever." Here's how the Apology of the Augsburg Confession says it: "We also keep confession, especially because of absolution, which is the Word of God that the power of the keys proclaims to individuals by divine authority" (Apology XII:99, emphasis added).

At any rate, here is my response to the comment left on that earlier post. The anonymous commenter mentioned the relief of stress that comes with confessing one's sins and then gave an (unsolicited) advertisement for a blog site (not recommended here) designed for anonymously confessing sins online. Here's my response to the notion of online confessions:

There are three major problems with confessing sins "anonymously" and online:

1. The sins are far from anonymous - God already knows them, and He knows that *you* committed them. They are already very personal by nature.

2. When one confesses one's sins online, one may hide one's own identity behind the mask of an electronic device, namely the name of "Anonymous," however, the whole world can see what you did (and *you* will still know that *you* did it, despite the electronic mask of anonymity).

BTW, isn't there a disconnect between boldly putting one's sins out in the open, online, for the whole world to see, and the supposed fear of trusting one's own pastor/priest, whom God has graciously given, to care for one's soul?

And 3) confessing one's sins "anonymously" and online avoids the real treasure of Confession and Absolution: the Absolution! Yes, the mere act of confessing may be somewhat therapeutic (getting things off one's chest, and all that), but it cannot remove the sin; it cannot console and comfort the conscience. It does not automatically grant the comfort of the Absolution, that is, forgiveness, given by God in Christ Jesus, crucified and risen, and spoken by the lips of your pastor/priest.

To seek the comfort of confession based merely on the act of confessing - and merely for the sake of getting things off one's chest - is not enough! Give me the spoken words of Christ's Absolution any day. After all, as the Apology of the Augsburg Confession (XII:39) says, "We also include Absolution when we speak of faith, because 'faith comes from hearing,' as St. Paul says in Romans 10:17. When the Gospel is heard and the Absolution is heard, the conscience is encouraged and receives comfort."

Now that truly relieves the stress of our sins!

"The A-B-Cs of Lent - Baptism, Part II"

My homily from last night's Lent Evening Prayer (again, with special thanks to Pr. William Cwirla from some years ago):

“The A-B-Cs of Lent” – Baptism II
Romans 6:1-11; Small Catechism, Baptism, Parts 3-4

We continue our theme of “The A-B-Cs of Lent” as we focus on the sacramental life of the Church. Last week we heard what Baptism is – water combined with God’s Word, His promise to be present in Baptism and save us through it. We also heard what gives Baptism its great power – the Word of God in the flesh as the great “detergent” in Baptism. We also recalled the wonderful blessings of Baptism – that it’s a washing of rebirth, a rescue from sin and death, the gift of eternal life. In short, Baptism actually does something: it saves us. And finally we heard how faith is necessary as it trusts the promises of Christ in the waters of Baptism. To believe in Jesus your Savior is to believe in the Baptism that now saves you in His death and resurrection.

Tonight let’s consider what Baptism means for daily life. What does such baptizing with water indicate for daily life? Now, that thought of Baptism as a daily thing might surprise some people. If we look at Baptism as merely an outward symbol, or as merely a way to identify ourselves as Christians, then we might conclude that Baptism is only a one-time thing. We might think that it was done once, a long time ago, and then we simply remember it with a certificate or a picture in the photo album – just like we do with anniversaries or graduations.

However, many one-time things have lasting effects. Many one-time things shape and govern our lives for days and years to come. Marriage vows are exchanged only once, but they have daily importance for married couples as they live out their marriage day to day. Ordination vows are spoken once, but they set the daily agenda for what a pastor is supposed to do. A contract is signed once, but it stays in effect for the life of that contract.

So, being baptized means that your whole life is one of God speaking to you and acting upon you. Baptism is God’s act of saving you, not only once a long time ago, but each and every day of your life. You might say that you’ve been caught in the cross hairs of His promises. Baptism is not a one-time thing; it’s a daily thing. It’s a daily garment we wear each and every day. In Baptism God has branded us with His seal of ownership, made us sheep of His pasture, covered our sin and its shame with Christ. In Baptism we wear Christ like a coat. The Christian life, then, is a daily life, and Baptism is the daily life of the Christian. It’s a daily dying and rising. Just as we go to sleep each night and wake up each morning, in our Baptism we daily die to sin and daily arise to live in Christ. Daily dying and daily rising—that’s the life of Baptism.

What does this mean, and what does it look like? First, the dying, then, the rising.

Baptism is a daily dying in the death of Jesus. As we heard from St. Paul: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death?” The Apostle writes as though everyone would know this and agree wholeheartedly, right down to the smallest child. Baptism unites us with the death of Christ.

You see, death is the necessary lot for a sinner. “The wages of sin is death.” Sin and the sinner must be put to death. No way around it. And we know that intuitively. That’s why we hate death and fear it so much. Deep down we know the consequences and fruit of our rebellion against God. Even the unbelieving person whose life is in shambles from his/her sin might say, “I just want to die.” And God says to that person, “I can arrange that. Repent and be baptized.”

In the death of Jesus on the cross, God has given us and the whole world a death in which we can die now and live forever. There are really only two options: 1) Die now in the death of Jesus and live forever in His life; or 2) live now apart from Jesus and die forever in your own death. Jesus died for sin and rose from the dead. “For the death He died He died to sin, once for all, but the life He lives he lives to God.” Baptism joins us to the death of Jesus. It nails us to His cross. It buries us in His tomb. In it God has put our sin out of sight. He has killed it in the death of His Son, hidden it in His wounds, and buried it in His grave.

And so our baptismal death in the death of Jesus is a death in hope. “For if we have been united with Him in a death like His, we shall certainly be united with Him in a resurrection like His.” We know how the story ends. We know how the last chapter turns out for those who are in Christ Jesus. Christ has died, and we have died with Him. Christ has risen, and we will rise with Him. So, whatever comes our way in this life—poverty, disease, pain or persecutions—our present sufferings cannot compare with the glory that will be revealed in us. Whatever burden or cross we must endure now, it does not compare with what will be ours in the Resurrection.

As we confessed in the Catechism, Baptism means that by daily contrition and repentance the old Adam in us should be drowned and die together with all sins and evil desires. Baptism engages us in a struggle. Let’s not kid ourselves that the Baptismal life is an easy one. It’s not! We have become the enemy of the devil, the world, and our own sinful natures. The devil roars and fumes against the baptized. He will stop at nothing to turn and keep us away from Christ in our Baptism. The world hated Christ and crucified Him, and it will seek to crucify all who are joined with Christ. And our old, sinful nature? It despises the water combined with God’s words of promise. The old Adam is a very good swimmer. He daily resists Baptism; he refuses to be drowned by it. And St. Paul says that his works are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, lewdness, idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissentions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. But we don’t have to wonder where all the evil in the world comes from. We know. It comes from deep down within each of us. And it needs to be drowned daily in the bath of Baptism.

That’s how Baptism also means freedom. We have been freed from the tyranny of sin. “For the one who has died has been set free from sin.” Sin is no longer our lord and master. Christ is our Lord and Master. And He lords His death and resurrection over us so that sin cannot harm us. Once we were slaves to sin; now, in Baptism, we are slaves to righteousness. Now that’s true freedom! Once we do could nothing but sin. Now we are free to not sin. That’s freedom!

Baptism, then, initiates an ongoing struggle. We are dead to sin, but we still sin. We have been justified, reckoned righteous by Jesus’ death, but we must now continually reckon ourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. How do we do this? By confessing our sins—by acknowledging our sinfulness before God, by admitting our sinful thoughts, words, and deeds, by seeking His mercy, by imploring His grace. This is where we Lutherans have stumbled. We have forgotten this fourth part of Baptism. And so we have long neglected the third Sacrament of personal Confession and Absolution. But as Luther said, it is nothing else than a return to and an application of Baptism.

One of the great tragedies of Christianity today, including among Lutherans, is that the baptized do not know how to use their Baptism rightly. We fret and fuss and wring our hands over our sins. We scold ourselves, and one another, over our sins, but we don’t confess them. We seek the help of professional counselors for our shortcomings, but we rarely go to our own pastor to confess our sins, bury them, and be forgiven of them. Let’s call it “cheap grace.” “Cheap grace” is Baptism without repentance. It is Absolution without personal confession. It is Christ without a cross. When dealing with our problems, we would rather seek the over-the-counter, self-help remedies at Borders, but we don’t want the strong—and most effective!—medicines that Christ prescribes for us. We would rather recite slogans like “Just say no” instead of simply saying, “Yes,” to our Baptism. We would rather work on and work out our “problems” and “issues” instead of dealing with the fact that we are the problem, and that we need to die in Jesus every day so that Jesus might live in us.

By confessing our sins, we bury them in Baptism; we drown them in the cleansing flood that flowed from Jesus’ side. This is what St. Paul means, when he says, “Consider yourselves dead to sin.” Confess your sin and your sins. Disown them. Throw them away at the garbage dump called Golgotha. Nail them to Jesus’ cross. Bury them in Jesus’ grave. In Confession, we set Baptism to work for us. We unleash the life-restoring power of Jesus’ death and resurrection in our lives. We cannot conquer sin. Christ alone conquers sin for us and in us. And He does it through the daily application of Baptism. As St. Paul says, “Sin will have no dominion over you.” Once sin did have dominion over you, causing you to distrust God, bringing shame and guilt and doubt and death. But now Christ has claimed dominion over you. He covers you with His blood. He frees you with His forgiveness. He lords His death and resurrection over you. Baptism, then, gives you permission to enter God’s presence and confess your sins to Him, counting on Him to forgive you.

And so, finally, Baptism means life—new life in the life of Jesus. In Baptism we can say with St. Paul: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). His life is now our life, and it’s the resurrected life of Jesus. He works in us and through us. We are “alive to God in Christ Jesus.” Apart from Christ, we die. In Christ Jesus by Baptism, we live.

In John, chapter 15(:5), Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” Branches receive their life from the vine to which they are joined. Sap flows from the vine into the branches, and brings life, leaves, buds, and fruit. In Holy Baptism, the “sap” of the Spirit flows from Christ into us, thus producing in us the Spirit’s fruit: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal. 5:22-23). That’s the sweet harvest of Baptism!

So, Baptism is a life-giving water. As Jesus says, “The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (Jn. 4:14). Baptism is our daily spring, our daily refreshment. It’s God’s healing, cleansing bath that makes us alive in the life of the Lamb who once was slain but now lives. Yes, Luther was right. He said there’s a whole lifetime of learning in Holy Baptism. Yes, there is! And there’s a whole lifetime of dying and rising in the water with Jesus, each and every day between now and the Last Day, when Jesus will give us yet more life for all eternity. Amen.

"The A-B-Cs of Lent - Baptism, Part I"

Here's my homily from tonight's Evening Prayer service for the first week in Lent. In keeping with the catechetical nature of Lent midweek services, I borrow heavily from Pr. Bill Cwirla's sermon series from several years ago, "Five Sermons on the Sacraments" (I printed them off back in 1997, and I assume that he preached them not too long before that.) I am indebted to Pr. Cwirla's wonderful craftsmanship of words and ideas, and I thank and give credit to him for great ways of teaching God's gifts.

“The A-B-Cs of Lent” – Baptism I
Readings: Titus 3:3-8; Matthew 28:16-20; Small Catechism, Baptism, Parts 1-2

Tonight we begin a sermon series called, “The A-B-Cs of Lent.” What are the “A-B-Cs of Lent”? They are Absolution, Baptism, and Communion. These Sacraments are quite foundational to our life in Christ and our life in His Church. So, for these Lent Evening Prayer services, we will look at the Sacraments and how they shape our life.

When you examine your Bible, you won’t find the word “sacrament.” We actually borrow it from Latin since it translates the Greek word “mystery.” And what’s a mystery? It’s something that is hidden from our reason and senses, but something that God reveals by His Word. Also, the word “sacrament” can be used in different ways, and has been through the Church’s 2000 years. Early on it simply meant “a sacred rite, or act, of the Church.” Some have counted seven Sacraments, others, nine, and still others, twelve. Seven was the agreed upon number in the West during the Reformation. The seven were: Baptism, Confession, Lord’s Supper, Ordination, Marriage, Confirmation, and Anointing the Sick. Lutherans keep and acknowledge these rites, but we also believe and teach that the first three are different from the others. Baptism, Absolution, and Communion are gifts that deliver God’s salvation, rites that show God is gracious to us through His crucified and risen Son.

Now, as Lutherans, we do not have a box labeled “Sacraments” into which we put whatever fits our definition. We really have not been interested in arguing over how many Sacraments there are. We simply have, trust, use, and enjoy the gifts that Jesus gives in His dying and rising. In fact, you could say that Jesus Christ is our only true Sacrament. He is God’s gift of life and salvation from Whom all other gifts flow.

Now back to our “A-B-Cs.” Baptism, Absolution, and Communion have certain things in common. They are holy. They belong to and come from the Lord. And they deliver everything that Jesus died to give us—forgiveness of sins, eternal life, and salvation. They connect us to the cross. No, we weren’t there when they crucified our Lord and nailed Him to the tree 2000 years ago. But He is here for us, even now, in Baptism, Absolution, and Communion. But Christ’s gifts are also unique. Each Sacrament delivers something unique. And as we see what is unique about each gift – each of the “A-B-Cs” – we can extol, thank, and praise the Giver of these precious gifts. That’s our goal for these Wednesday evenings through Lent.

So, tonight we begin with Baptism. (Yes, I know my alphabet just fine, and “B” comes after “A”, but I also know that Baptism is the true beginning! ☺)

What is Baptism? As we said just a few moments ago, “Baptism is not just plain water, but it is the water included in God’s command and combined with God’s Word.” Depending on how you’re counting them, Baptism is two or three things: water, command, and promise. That’s Baptism.

Baptism is not just plain water. So true! But it is water. Let’s acknowledge that. No water, no Baptism. How much water? God didn’t say. Certainly enough to get you wet. Water is the material means, the creaturely instrument that God uses. Remember how God uses water in the Scriptures. The Holy Spirit hovered over God’s created water at creation; all things were made by water and the Spirit. In the days of Noah God judged the unbelieving world by means of water, and yet saved believing Noah and his family. God led His people Israel through the water, out of slavery and into freedom and life. God cleansed Naaman, the Syrian army general, of his leprosy and restored his skin to that of a young child. Jesus stepped into the water of His Baptism to “fulfill all righteousness.” Jesus turned cleansing water into the best wine at Cana of Galilee. Jesus said, “Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” On the cross blood and water flowed forth from Jesus’ pierced side. Jesus commanded that disciples be made by washing with water in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

You see, water is essential for all of life. In a drought, crops fail, lawns and gardens wither, and people and animals suffer for lack of water. Each one of us is born in water, literally. So, it’s no surprise that our second, heavenly birth also comes through water. It’s where we are conceived by the Holy Spirit and born from above by our heavenly mother, the Church. Water sustains our life. Our bodies are over 75% water, and without water we quickly die. One early Christian pastor compared Christians to fish swimming in the water with big Fish Jesus. Take the Christian out of the living water of Baptism, and he/she will surely dry up and die of dehydration. Water also cleanses. We wash our bodies and our clothes with water. Just think of life without baths or showers, and you’ll appreciate the gift of cleansing water.

Tonight we also hear St. Paul call Baptism “the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit.” Baptism is the washing of regeneration, rebirth, re-creation. Through it we are born anew with a heavenly birth, not of our will, but of God’s will. Just as He did at creation, the Holy Spirit hovers over the waters. Again, God speaks His creative Word. We become new creatures in Baptism. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” (And for St. Paul, “in Christ” means baptized.) Some early churches had scenes from the Garden of Eden painted on the walls by the baptismal font. Baptism is Paradise restored through the death and resurrection of Jesus. The old has gone; the new has come. God and man are reconciled, at peace, at one, in harmony.

Baptism is also a washing of renewal—not only a life-giving water, but also a life-sustaining and cleansing water. This water made alive by our living Lord washes us from the leprous filth of our sin. The filth of our lies, our deceits, our adulteries, our lust, our anger, our prejudice, our greed, our complaints, our gossip—all that flows out of our hearts unbuckled from God—it all gets washed away in this flood of God’s grace.

So, we must not despise this water, or treat it lightly. It’s quite common in our day to look down our noses at material things when it comes to religion. We love the materials things that we eat, drink, wear, and buy, but somehow we don’t want our religion to be too material. But what God has joined together, we must not separate. Water, word, Spirit—they’re all together in Baptism. Let’s not despise the setting – water – that holds God’s precious jewel of Baptism.

Baptism is water connected to Christ’s command. He established it; He commanded it. We heard that tonight. It’s His Baptism—not the Church’s, not ours. We also heard how Jesus is always with us in the baptizing and the teaching. So the Church keeps the command of Christ when she baptizes and teaches. That’s how disciples are made. Jesus gave us no other way—no special gimmicks, no slick programs, no number-crunching movements to replace baptizing and catechizing. Everything a Christian congregation does should orbit around these activities of baptizing and teaching. Let’s always ask ourselves, “How does this activity or that plan relate to baptizing and teaching? Are we teaching people into Baptism? Are teaching people out of their Baptism?” If we can’t make that connection, perhaps we’d best not do it.

Jesus’ disciple-making command, though, gives us confidence. Jesus is with us in this activity. He authorizes it. He approves it. He promises to be with us in it. Yes, you see a man’s hand pouring the water, but it’s still God’s hand. Yes, you hear a man’s voice speaking the words, but it’s still God’s Word and work. Some may ask, “Why do you baptize?” We simply say, “The Lord commands it.” Some may ask, “Why do you baptize babies?” We simply answer, “The Lord commands it.” Some may ask, “Why is Baptism necessary for salvation?” We confidently say, “The Lord commands it.” It’s His Baptism; we just work here!

And this water connected with God’s command is also combined with His Word of promise. Not every washing can be a washing of regeneration and renewal. Not every bath is a Baptism. Baptism is God’s washing of water with the Word. And when Christians say the word “Word,” we mean first and foremost Jesus Christ, the Word-made-Flesh. Baptism is the washing of water with Jesus, His perfect life, His suffering, death, and resurrection. Jesus is the fount and source of Baptism. He is the rock from which the refreshing waters flow to quench the hot thirst from our sin.

The Promise of God in Baptism also makes the water bloody—bloody with the blood of God’s Son. The blood of Jesus is the detergent in the water. Our robes are plunged into this bloody water and made white in the blood of the Lamb once slain for us sinners. The Word—Jesus—delivers the blood. He makes the baptismal water “a divine, heavenly, holy, blessed water.” Only with Jesus can something be called holy. Jesus is with us in that water. The Holy Spirit is there with us too, hovering as a dove. And the Father is there with us, saying, “This is My beloved child.”

So, to despise Baptism or treat it lightly is to despise or treat lightly God and His Word, Jesus. This is why Baptism is not just some symbolic ceremony, not just a little religious thing to do when aunts and uncles can come to town, not just a good excuse for a family gathering, not just a “christening” or dedication, not even just a “Get-Out-of-Hell-Free” card to spring on God on the Last Day. All of that diminishes the power of God’s Promise. All of that denies that the Word—Jesus—is living and active in the water of Baptism.

What blessing and benefits are given with this water combined with God’s command and promise? “It works forgiveness of sins, rescues from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe this, as the words and promises of God declare.” St. Peter sums it up in one word, when he says, “Baptism…now saves you.” Then he says, “not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.”

“Salvation” means “release, rescue.” It means to be brought out of a narrow prison cell into a wide-open place filled with light and air. Baptism gives us room to breathe, to work, to pray, to praise and give thanks, to serve others. As Luther said, “To be saved is nothing else than to be delivered from sin, death, and the devil, and to enter the kingdom of Christ and live with Him forever.” We are born in bondage to sin and death and cannot set ourselves free, no matter how hard we try or how much money we spend. But in Baptism Jesus sets us free from our captivity by applying His death and resurrection to us.

When were you saved? St. Paul and St. Peter teach us to say, “When I was baptized, washed with the washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit.” You could say you were saved from the foundations of the world. But you weren’t there. You could also say you were saved when Jesus died on the cross. But you weren’t there either. You were there at your Baptism, though. And God was there for you to save you and wash you. There, in that washing, Jesus applied Himself and His name to you, personally. There His death became your death; His life became your life.

So Baptism requires all hearts to believe. It’s not enough merely to have water poured over us. We must believe the words of God’s Promise attached to Baptism. Yes, receiving the blessings and benefits requires faith. And it also gives the faith. Sometimes God creates faith first, by means of His Gospel words, and then He bestows Baptism, as with an adult or older child. Sometimes God gives Baptism first, and then creates faith, as with babies and younger children. The order is God’s business. He alone raises the dead, and He does it when and where it pleases Him in those who hear the Gospel.

So, to believe in Jesus Christ as your Savior is the same thing as to believe in the Baptism that He gives to save you. “He who believes and is baptized shall be saved.” May God grant this to us all. Amen.

The Church: Fellowship in Holy Things

This brief reading comes from George Florovsky (from his book Bible, Church, Tradition: An Eastern Orthodox View) and is paired up with 1 Corinthians 12:12-26 (today's "Reading II") in the prayerbook For All the Saints (pp. 1011-1012). One wonders how familiar Florovsky was with the Augsburg Confession and what it says on both the Church and the Sacraments.

Moreover, Christ Himself belongs to this community, as its Head, not only as its Lord or Master. Christ is not above or outside the Church. The Church is in Him. The Church is not merely a community of those who believe in Christ and walk in His steps or in His commandments. She is a community of those who abide and dwell in Him, and in whom He Himself is abiding and dwelling by the Spirit. Christians are set apart, “born anew” and re-created, they are given not only a new pattern of life, but rather a new principle: the new Life in the Lord by the Spirit. They are a “peculiar People,” “the People of God’s own possession.” The point is that the Christian community, the ekklesia, is a sacramental community: communio in sacris, a “fellowship in holy things,” i.e. in the Holy Spirit, or even communio sanctorum (sanctorum being taken as neuter rather than masculine – perhaps that was the original meaning of the phrase). The unity of the Church is effected through the sacraments: Baptism and the Eucharist are the two “social sacraments” of the Church, and in them the true meaning of Christian “togetherness” is continually revealed and sealed. Or even more emphatically, the sacraments constitute the Church. Only in the sacraments does the Christian Community pass beyond the purely human measure and become the Church. Therefore “the right administration of the sacraments” belongs to the essence of the Church (to her esse). Sacraments must be “worthily” received indeed, therefore they cannot be separated or divorced from the inner effort and spiritual attitude of believers. Baptism is to be preceded by repentance and faith. A personal relation between an aspirant and his Lord must be first established by the hearing and the receiving of the Word, of the message of salvation. And again an oath of allegiance to God and His Christ is a pre-requisite and indispensable condition of the administration of the sacrament (the first meaning of the word sacramentum was precisely “the (military) oath.” [sic] A catechumen is already “enrolled” among the brethren on the basis of his faith. Again, the baptismal gift is appropriated, received, and kept, by faith and faithfulness, by the steadfast standing in the faith and the promises. And yet sacraments are not merely signs of a professed faith, but rather effective signs of the saving Grace—not only symbols of human aspiration and loyalty, but the outward symbols of the divine action. In them our human existence is linked to, or rather raised up to, the Divine Life, by the Spirit, the giver of life.