Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – St. Michael and All Angels

29 September 2019

Text: Matt 5:21-48

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

“You have heard that it was said,” says Jesus.  You have heard the rabbis and the Pharisees and the scribes and the priests say that it is sufficient to outwardly keep the Law.  But Jesus teaches with divine authority, unlike the scribes and Pharisees who think that they have kept the fifth commandment simply by not being an actual murderer. 

Our Lord teaches us that the Law is not about external actions, but about the internal condition of the heart.  Have you been angry and fantasized about harming someone?  You have broken the fifth commandment.  Have you had lustful thoughts?  You have broken the sixth commandment.  Have you had to bolster your word by means of oaths?  You have broken the eighth commandment. 

In fact, if you have hated your enemies, you have broken all the commandments, for as our Lord taught elsewhere, to keep the commandments is to love God and love one’s neighbor.  And love is not an external compliance with a rule; love is a state of the heart.  Jesus Himself demonstrates this by dying for us on the cross while we were His enemies, while we were yet sinners.  This is what it means to keep the commandments.

And so we need to repent, not merely outwardly, but inwardly.  The Greek word for repentance means to change the mind, to have a change in heart.  It is internal, and it is the internal that controls the external, not the other way around.

On this day, we honor St. Michael and all angels, these ministering spirits who serve the Lord, whom the Lord sends to serve us.  We cannot see them, but they are there for us in danger and in temptation.  When our Lord crushed Satan’s head at the cross, Michael the Archangel expelled Satan from the heavenly realms and sent him to earth.  His time is short, and his hatred for us is the very opposite of the love that is embedded in the Law.  Satan’s desire here on earth is to destroy our faith.  And this is why Luther’s morning and evening prayers implore the Lord to “Let Your holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me.”

You have heard that it was said that the Law can save you.  But without relaxing the Law by a jot or a tittle, our Lord says to us that we are saved by love: the love of the Son in dying for us on the cross, and the love of the Father in sending angels to minister to us.  We also have the love of the Spirit who keeps us in the one true faith.  Satan has been defeated and cast down.  Let us strive to keep the Law by loving our neighbor, and when we falter, may the angels guard us by drawing us to the cross, to the Word of God, and when we die, to Abraham’s bosom, bearing us home.

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon: St. Michael and All Angels - 2020

27 September 2020

Text: Matt 18:1-11 (Dan 10:10-14; 12:1-3, Rev 12:7-12)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Today we commemorate St. Michael the Archangel and all angels: the real angels, not the angels of the movies and the cartoons.  Real angels don’t look like little naked babies, or fair-skinned girls with wings.  Real angels are not our dead relatives.  Real angels are spiritual beings that serve God outside of our material universe.  They are fierce and mighty.

In the creed, we say that God is the “maker of heaven and earth and of all things visible and invisible.”  There is an entire invisible component to the Lord’s creation.  It is invisible because it isn’t material.  It is spiritual.

But that doesn’t make the invisible any less real.  Jesus Himself mentions angels in our Gospel reading.  He tells us that we need to become like little children to be great in the kingdom of heaven.  We need to stop thinking so highly of ourselves, stop depending upon our own bodily ability and mental powers.  For none of that matters in the kingdom of heaven.  What matters is our faith. 

And faith is where children excel and where adults fail.  To have faith is to believe – especially to believe what we are told even when we are tempted to disbelieve.  A rational adult is going to struggle with the idea that a wafer of bread is Jesus.  Not so with children.  They trust what they hear, and they do not allow their reason to get in the way.  We adults think that we’re so smart, we end up outsmarting ourselves to the point of stupidity.  A childlike faith trusts God’s Word – even when that Word doesn’t make sense to us.  God’s Word says that the bread and wine are Christ’s body and blood.  God’s Word says that Holy Baptism washes away sin and “now saves you.”  God’s Word says that our Lord’s death on the cross pays the price of our sins.  God’s Word says that those who are baptized and believe have salvation, that is, eternal life.  God’s Word promises that in Christ, we will rise bodily from death.

Children will believe what they are told because they trust.  Adults, having spent time among the liars and swindlers of this fallen world learn to question and to be distrustful.  But with God’s Word, distrust only leads to unbelief, and unbelief only leads to death and hell.  And so Jesus advises us to look to children, humbling ourselves by turning and becoming like a child in our trust in God and His Word, in our trust in Jesus and the cross, and in the Holy Spirit who draws us into communion with the Most Holy Trinity.

So what do angels have to do with any of this?

Our Lord says that we must not “despise” little ones, but rather we are to receive children in the name of Jesus.  Rather than seeing children as beneath us, we need to honor them and protect them from evil.  For “whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in [Him] to sin, it would be better for him” to be drowned in the sea.  For “their angels always see the face of [Jesus’] Father who is in heaven.”

God protects his “little ones” – both literal little children, and we who are by God’s grace, children of God.  He protects us by means of angels.  Between our readings, we sang a verse from Psalm 91 – a Psalm used to cast out demons, by the way (demons being evil angels who are the enemy of God and man).  In this Psalm, we hear the promise: “He shall give His angels charge over you, to guard you in all your ways.”  So yes, we really do have angels that guard us.  God uses these ministering spirits, these “watchers and holy ones,” to oversee His universe – including His beloved people.  

“For the Son of Man came to save the lost.”  

Dear friends, we were lost until Jesus came into our flesh, died our death, and rose again from the dead for our justification.  Jesus is the Good Shepherd who seeks out the lost sheep.  He rescues us.  And He uses angels to carry out this task.  They protect us from harm in ways that we cannot see.  They guard us in times of temptation.  They restrain evil as part of the Lord’s enforcement of His will.  They also call us home when it is our time to die, bearing us to Abraham’s bosom, as we sing in the hymn.

All throughout Scripture, the angelic host serves God, and God often has them serving us.  There is a very real spiritual war between the angels and the demons, between the Holy Trinity and the impostor mutineer Satan – who wishes nothing but destruction upon God’s creation – including our destruction, here in time, and there in eternity.

But once again, dear friends, Jesus “came to save the lost.”  

St. Michael the Archangel and his angels defeated the Old Evil Foe: “that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world.”  The angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven praise God for our Lord’s victory on the cross, for “the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God.”

Satan means “accuser.”  But because of the cross, Satan may no longer accuse us.  He has no standing in God’s court.  He has been “thrown down.”  He has been mortally wounded by the “Seed of the Woman” (our Lord Jesus Christ).  For we have conquered “by the blood of the Lamb.”  

Everywhere God the Father is, there are the angels.  For they “always see the face” of the Father, as Jesus says.  Everywhere God the Son is, there are the angels.  They sang at His birth.  They ministered to Him after His temptation by the devil.  They served Him during His torment in the Garden of Gethsemane.  And they stood at the ready at the cross, even as the Lord did not call upon their legions to rescue Him, but rather He died obedient to His Father and in love for us, because He “came to save the lost.”

Angels were in the empty tomb.  And angels serve Him in eternity, at the right hand of the Father.  Angels continue to carry out their work of administering God’s kingdom, guarding us, and overseeing creation.

And what does it mean, dear friends, that “the Son of Man came to save the lost”?  We were lost because of our sins.  We stood accused by the devil.  We were destined for “temporal and eternal punishment,” that is, death not only in this life, but in eternity to come.  But God did not allow us to fall.  “For the Son of Man came to save the lost.”  We are saved by His blood, which is applied to us in Holy Baptism, and is received by us in faith – all by God’s grace, by His mercy, by His love.  

And the prophet Daniel, as was revealed to him by an angel, tells us about this salvation’s fulfillment on the Last Day: “And there shall be a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time.  But at that time your people shall be delivered, everyone whose name shall be found written in the book.  And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.  And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever.”

Let us hear the angel who spoke to Daniel, and let us hear all of God’s Word, dear friends!  Let us hear of St. Michael’s victory, which is our Lord’s victory, and let us turn like children and believe in that victory.  Let us rejoice in the care and ministry of the angels, even as they are invisible to us for the time being.  Let us receive many children (of all ages) into the kingdom, and in so doing, let us receive Christ!  Let us join the heavenly host in praising God, “Raise the glad strain: Alleluia!” – knowing that when we die, we will be brought to the heavenly realm by the angels, even as we await the glorious resurrection, when we become once more united to our bodies, to enjoy an eternal life that not even the angels have: “the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.”  

Jesus send Your angel legions

When the foe would us enslave.

Hold us fast when sin assaults us;

Come, then, Lord, Your people save.

Overthrow at last the dragon;

Send him to his fiery grave.

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Magdeburg and Liberty

The Magdeburg Confession is a remarkable document.  

This Lutheran confession lays out a theology of resistance to tyranny based on the Doctrine of the Lesser Magistrate.  The brave autonomous city of Magdeburg, with its spirit of political independence and theological insistence on adhering to Lutheran theology, come what may, arguably saved the Reformation in the year 1550.  The city stood alone in refusing to surrender the Lutheran confession to Charles V's so-called Augsburg Interim.  Magdeburg paid for its tenacity by being put under military siege for a year, until the imperial forces backed off and negotiated a settlement that allowed the Lutheran confession to coexist with Roman Catholicism in the empire.

The Confession is a theological treatise, but it happens in a very real political context - and thus the narrative has not only ecclesiastical and doctrinal implications, but also serves to teach us political lessons in our world today.

Indeed, the world was very different in 1550.  At the time, there was no Germany.  That would not come until the late 19th century.  Europe was feudal, comprised of a patchwork of small governments.  What we call Germany today was part of the so-called Holy Roman Empire.  As is often said, the HRE was neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.  It was a crazy-quilt of kingdoms, principalities, duchies, and free cities in what is today mainly Germany and Italy.  The emperor was actually elected by certain elector princes.  

The HRE was more a loose confederation than an empire, one which offered maximum liberty because of the concept of competition.  There were no passports.  The countries were small.  The German language was spoken across a large swath of the Empire.  And so, if a prince was abusive, raised taxes too high, or impeded free markets - people could vote with their feet and move.  It didn't involve emigrating hundreds of miles away, securing work visas and a path to citizenship, and learning a new language.  

The economist and philosopher Hans-Hermann Hoppe argues that Europe's successes in science, exploration, economics, scholarship, and the arts was due to this vast decentralization.  He argues that a Europe today "made up of thousands of Liechtensteins and Swiss cantons, united through free trade, and in competition with one another in the attempt of offering the most attractive conditions for productive people to stay or move" is a far better alternative to the European Union, which he describes as "a gang of power-lusty crooks empowering and enriching themselves at other, productive people’s expense."

This kind of political decentralization existed in the HRE and it made the Reformation possible.  Had Charles V been an actual emperor instead of a figurehead overseeing a loose confederacy, he would have had no problem capturing and executing all religious dissidents.  However, the confederal nature of the Empire made it possible for local German princes to interpose in order to protect Luther and other reformers - to the frustration of both Charles V and the papacy.

The Reformation flourished, at least in human terms, owing to the economics of free competition in the marketplace of ideas.  Not only did churches and universities spread the faith of the Evangelical confession (as Lutherans were known in those days), but also the printing press and merchants who were free to sell printed material - thanks to free markets and capitalism.  A centralized state would have had far better success in banning books and pamphlets and crushing dissenting opinions than a confederation of small sovereignties.

It's no wonder that dictators and tyrants always have imperial dreams.  Managing a single massive bureaucracy is far easier than "thousands of Liechtensteins" when  it comes to exercising authoritarian control.

One can hope that Brexit will lead to other defections away from European centralization and a restoration of the polity that made Europe a great civilization: the envy of the world.

If Americans truly value their liberty, they too will look to find ways of decentralizing the country back to its original federalism, instead of the nationalism and consolidation that has taken root instead.  One path toward such a devolution is nullification (sometimes called "interposition") - which is what the Magdeburgers pioneered in 1550.  With our own patchwork of state and local jurisdictions, our spirit of political independence, and our constitutional system of federalism, we could conceivably restore the republic and become, once more, heirs of Magdeburg.

And so we stand at a crossroads. 

Will we move in the direction of centralization, stagnation, and slavery?  Or will be be sons and daughters of Magdeburg?  We should study this history and confession in both its theological and political frameworks.

Here is a link to the Magdeburg Society.  And here is a link to Issues, Etc.'s program: "Lutherans, Political Resistance and the 1550 Magdeburg Confession" with Dr. Ryan MacPherson.

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Commemoration of Jonah

22 September 2019

Text: Neh 7:1-4; 8:1-18

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

After ignoring the warnings of the prophets for decades, an unthinkable judgment fell on the people of Judah.  Their kingdom was overthrown by Babylon.  Their temple was ransacked, defiled, and destroyed.  The walls of Jerusalem were felled.  The people were either put to the sword or taken into captivity into Babylon, where they were forced to live as slaves of a people with a foreign language and culture and religion.

If God had allowed this to stand, His promise to preserve a remnant from which would come the Savior would not have happened, and the people of the entire world would remain dead in their sins.

But after some fifty years of captivity, something else unthinkable happened.  The Babylonians were defeated by the Persians, and King Cyrus allowed the people of Judah to return over the course of twenty years.  Only the oldest of the people of Judah even remembered what it was like to live in their own land as free people.

Ezra the priest led the rebuilding of the temple and the spiritual life of the people, and Nehemiah the governor led them politically. In the midst of evil people who tried to seize power and impede progress, the temple was rebuilt and the walls of the city were restored.  God’s judgment of sin yielded to God’s mercy and forgiveness of sin.  And so we see both Law and Gospel play out in history, with the Gospel prevailing, as our Lord Jesus Christ was indeed to be born of this chosen and forgiven people more than 400 years after these events.

For the first time in decades, the people gathered in Jerusalem as “they told Ezra the scribe to bring the Book of the Law of Moses.”  And we learn that Ezra was not just a scribe who could read the Law, but also a priest, who could preach and lead worship.  Over the next few days, Ezra read the entire books of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy to the people.  They had forgotten God’s Law.  They had forgotten how to worship.  But the people repented.  Ezra the priest blessed the people, and they replied, “Amen, amen.”

The people rightfully mourned their sins, “the people wept as they heard the words of the Law.”  But Ezra and Nehemiah told the people, “This day is holy to the Lord.  Do not mourn or weep.” For this was a time of forgiveness, of reconciliation, or restoration.  The people were ordered to hold a feast: “Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord.”

Dear friends, we Christians likewise feast on the Lord’s Day, Sunday.  Every Sunday is a mini-Easter.  And even in the Lenten period, our fasts are traditionally broken to celebrate our deliverance from the bondage to sin, death, and the devil, as our priest and governor, our Lord Jesus Christ, feasts with us in the Eucharist.  The temple is now the church, and the wall around Jerusalem is now the Church’s holiness and separation from the world.  The pastor who leads the service is actually called the “celebrant.”

Every Sunday, we join Ezra, Nehemiah, our Lord, and the apostles – and all of God’s people in the great cloud of witnesses to celebrate our freedom.  We feast on our Lord’s body and blood.  And though we are grieved by our sins, our tears are dried, the curse is broken, and we are raised from death.  And even as we are joyful, we remain reverent: “Be quiet,” we are told, “for this day is holy; do not be grieved.”

Let the reading of the Scripture and the festival of our forgiveness continue in our midst – even unto eternity!  Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon: Trinity 15 - 2020

20 September 2020

Text: Matt 6:24-34

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Anxiety is a terrible thing.  It can paralyze a person from even performing the basic functions needed for this life.  Anxiety medication is big business in America.  We see even young children suffering with anxiety.  It can be like a spiral that continues to drag a person down deeper and deeper, until it seems like there is no hope.

Being anxious is not something that someone can just will himself out of.  Anxiety is like being stuck in quicksand.  The more one struggles with it, the deeper one sinks.

And then Jesus comes along and says: “Do not be anxious.”  He says that having anxiety is to be of “little faith.”  And our Lord also ties anxiety to an unhealthy and sinful love of money.

I’ve heard people become almost cruel about this, telling a parent who is worried about a child who is suffering with illness to “repent” because “worry is a sin” – as if worrying about loved ones who are in danger is like drinking too much or committing adultery, and that they just need to knock it off.

Anxiety is indeed sin, but it isn’t that kind of sin.  It isn’t rooted in personal selfishness or a desire for worldly pleasure.  In fact, much of our anxiety is grounded in worry for others.  Similarly, in the Small Catechism, Martin Luther instructs us to say our bedtime prayers and then: “Go to sleep at once and in good cheer.”  Again, I have heard pastors say that if you cannot sleep at night because you are upset about something, that you need to repent of this sin.

So is it really sinful to be anxious?  Yes it is.  But it is sinful in the same way that being subject to death is sinful.  It isn’t something you can “fix” by just not doing it.  We live in a fallen world.  We live in a sinful world.  We are sinful creatures.  This means that we suffer – sometimes because we did something directly to deserve it, sometimes just because the world is fallen.

If you find yourself worried and anxious – for whatever reason – you cannot will yourself to stop it.  You can’t slap yourself on the hand and say: “Don’t do that!” any more than you can make yourself not sick by calling yourself to repentance.

So how can we deal with anxiety, dear friends?  By listening to Jesus.  His Word is truly therapeutic, in the supernatural and divine sense of the word.  Notice that our Lord begins His teaching about anxiety by saying, “Therefore I tell you.”  He tells us.  He speaks to us.  He declares His Word to us.  He teaches us how not to be “anxious about your life” – especially as it concerns our inability to know the future: “What you will eat or what you will drink” or “about your body” and “what you will put on.”

He reminds us that life is more than staying alive in the body.  He reminds us that there is indeed more to existence than chasing after material things.  He reminds us that we have a Heavenly Father who does provide for us.  He reminds us that we do not have a God who is distant, like the kind of god that Thomas Jefferson believed in who creates the universe and then just walks away and doesn’t care about you.

In fact, our Lord in His Word contradicts Jefferson by pointing us to nature: “Look at the birds of the air,” for “they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.”  And our Lord asks the rhetorical question: “Are you not of more value than they?”  So many people today have allowed Satan to convince them of their worthlessness.  This is a diabolical lie, dear friends.  For you are created in the image of God.  Before the foundation of the world, the Most Holy Trinity willed that you would exist.  You are part of the plan of the universe.  So many people describe the experience of looking into the night sky and feeling small and insignificant, a fleck of dust in a vast universe.  But the reality, dear friends, is that you are created in the image of God.  You are alive.  You have a body and a spirit and the love of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit that brought you into being, and still takes care of you.

And in spite of your sins – and yes, anxiety is part of that sinful brokenness that we all suffer – God the Son took flesh on our planet, and He died as a cosmic sacrifice for you.  You are beloved of God.  Indeed, “Are you not of more value than” birds, than the lilies of the field, than the planets, than the stars, than the galaxies?  Jesus took on our human flesh, for He came to redeem mankind – all of us.  He did not die just for someone else.  He died for you, and He rose for you, and He speaks to you – right here and right now.  He bids you not to be anxious, not to scold you for sinning, but to invite you to a more excellent way – the way of faith.

By living day to day in His Word, by living week to week in His Supper, by living each moment in your baptismal grace, you will be comforted because your faith will be strengthened.  We suffer worry and anxiety because our faith is weak.  And this is normal for everyone, dear friends.  Remember what God revealed to St. Paul in his weakness: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness,” and St. Paul replied, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

The “power of Christ,” dear friends.  This power “rests upon you,” because of the love, mercy, and providence of God.  

We become anxious because we feel powerless, and the future is unknown to us.  But by means of His Word and His Sacraments, we receive His grace, we receive the gift of faith, and the power of Christ rests upon us to drive out fear and worry and anxiety.

When Jesus speaks to us “of little faith,” it is not a condemnation, but an invitation.  It is an invitation to strengthen our faith by receiving the power of Christ.  For as St. Paul also tells us, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing through the Word of Christ.”

We are tempted to look elsewhere to overcome anxiety, whether through mind-altering drugs or alcohol, through the escapism of entertainment, through looking to ourselves and our strength (rather than the grace that comes to us in our weakness), or by depending on money.  So often we think that money will fix everything.  And that is indeed the sin of idolatry.  Jesus even speaks about the rich man whose riches only cause him more worry.

We Christians do indeed have the antidote to the universal problem of anxiety: and that is Christ.  Pray to Him.  Listen to His Word.  Allow the Heavenly Father to feed you with the bread of life and clothe you with a baptismal gown of Christ’s righteousness.  And in Christ, no matter what happens in this world – up to and including death itself, and beyond – we can lay our anxieties upon Him who values you more highly than all of His creation, valuing you even to redeem you at the cross.  

When our Lord says, “Therefore I tell you,” let us listen attentively, dear friends, let us listen and be restored – even to life everlasting! 

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon: Funeral of Shirley Boutian - 2020

18 September 2020

Text: John 10:10b-15, 27-30 (Isa 25:6-9, 1 Cor 15:51-57)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Dear Bubby, Ron, Shirley, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, and honored guests, peace be with you.

Your beloved Shirley has been called home to be with the Lord after a long and good life.  Bubby, you had the privilege of 64 years of married life with Shirley.  And even in death, Shirley was at home surrounded by loved ones.  She leaves a void that will never be filled on this side of glory, for she is terribly missed by all of you.

Some people will try to comfort you by saying that death is natural, or just a part of life.  That’s just not true.  God did not create us to die.  God created us to live forever.  We messed up the plan by our sin.  It all started in the Garden of Eden, and got worse from there.  For as Shirley confessed again and again in the church’s liturgy, “I, a poor miserable sinner… justly deserve your temporal and eternal punishment.”  Even the very best of us is plagued by sin, and this is why we are mortal, dear friends.

Shirley knew this, and this is why she attended Divine Service until her health made it impossible.  She received forgiveness  and heard the preaching of the Gospel, the Good News, that Jesus died for us and gives us what we cannot give ourselves: eternal life.  She received the body and blood of Christ as a guarantee of that promise.  I brought her Jesus on her deathbed.  Shirley believed the Word of God, and she was prepared to die. 

Of course, we survivors are never really prepared for the temporary separation that death is for us Christians.  We love Shirley, we miss her, and we mourn.  But we mourn in a different way than unbelievers.  We mourn with hope.  We believe the same promises of Jesus that brought Shirley to Divine Service week in and week out.  And we will see her again.  

We prayed the 23rd Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd.”  For it is the Lord who shepherds us even through the “valley of the shadow of death.”  Jesus tells us that He is that shepherd in our Gospel reading from St. John: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep…. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me…. 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.”

This is Shirley’s faith and confession.  It means that she is safe and sound with Jesus.  It means that we who share this faith will see her again.  Jesus says He came to give Shirley life, and to have it “abundantly.”

We Christians know that death is not natural.  It is our enemy.  But it is a defeated enemy.  Death was defeated when Jesus Himself died to destroy death, and when we left His own grave, just as Shirley will, just as all believers will.  St. Paul teaches us this in our epistle reading from 1 Corinthians: “For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.”  And this is why we Christians, even in our mourning, even through our tears, can say defiantly: “Death is swallowed up in victory.  O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?”  And we join St. Paul is thanking God, “who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”  For this victory was won for Shirley at the cross.  It was proven for Shirley at the empty tomb that first Easter.  And it was given to Shirley as a free gift of grace when she was baptized “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”  For Jesus says: “Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved.”  Shirley has been saved from death and hell.  She has that abundant life as a free gift of God.

Of course, this is still hard.  We do feel the sting of death in being separated from our loved ones.  Death is not natural.  It is not a part of life.  But we Christians know why it happens, and what happens.  And we Christians know that because Jesus conquered death, so has Shirley.

And so we are all waiting for our reunion.  We are waiting for the resurrection.  For we Christians also understand that God made us to have a spirit and a body.  We human beings are created in God’s image, and we have flesh and blood.  This is why we confessed in the creed that we believe in “the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.”  On this side of the grave, Shirley loved to be physically present with loved ones, eating and drinking, feasting and laughing, embracing family and friends.  God did not create us to be disembodied spirits, but to be resurrected in the flesh.

Isaiah speaks of the new heaven and the new earth in our Old Testament lesson, promising “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined.”  This is because we will be raised bodily from the dead, in bodies that are perfect, without pain, without disease, without aging.  Our world will be restored to what it was before sin.  We will once more enjoy the perfection of the Garden of Eden.  This is God’s promise, the promise that Shirley confessed by attending Divine Services and be receiving Christ’s body and blood.  And listen to Isaiah’s good news, dear friends: “He will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations.  He will swallow up death forever, and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces… for the Lord has spoken.”

“For the Lord has spoken,” dear friends.  This is not my promise, but God’s promise.  This is not my gift to you, but the gift of Jesus to you – the same gift given to Shirley: the gift of everlasting life even in death.

And so we Christians do not embrace death, we don’t welcome it, and we don’t consider it anything other than what it is: our enemy.  But we also know that the enemy was defeated, and Shirley has victory over death and the grave.  Our Lord Jesus Christ, Shirley’s Good Shepherd, declared victory from the cross when He proclaimed: “It is finished!”  His victory is Shirley’s victory.  And we will see her again!

Peace be with you, dear friends.  Peace be with you!  Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon: St. Cyprian of Carthage - 2020

16 September 2020

Text: John 10:11-16 (Ps 23, 1 Pet 5:1-4, 10-11)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

St. Cyprian was a shepherd of the flock who served the Good Shepherd.  And like all pastors, he was given the responsibility to “shepherd the flock of God.”  In other words, Jesus is our Good Shepherd – the One who “lays down His life for the sheep,” who knows His own, and His own know Him.  For as we all know from King David’s great comforting Shepherd Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd.”

The Scripture speaks of the called shepherds through whom Jesus gathers, feeds, and protects His flock.  These shepherds are sometimes called “elders” and sometimes “overseers.”  The “elder” is not like our office of the Board of Elders.  When Scripture uses the word “elder,” – in Greek, πρεσβύτερος (presbuteros) – it means the ordained pastor.  A pastor, regardless of his age, is to be treated as an elder, as one who is a leader of the community.  The Latin version of this word is where we get the word “senator” from.  But lest the pastor let that go to his head, it’s also where we get the word “senile” from.  Presbuteros has made its way into English as “presbyter” and as “priest.”  And the word “pastor” is from the Latin word for “shepherd.”

Another word for pastoral service is translated as “oversight.”  It’s where we get the words “supervisor” and “bishop” in English.  St. Peter exhorts us pastors to exercise this “oversight” in today’s Epistle reading.  St. Cyprian served the church as a deacon, then as a priest, then as a bishop – overseeing the pastors and congregations in his diocese in North Africa.  As a writer and preacher, he wrote in powerful Latin, and his sermons and writings are still studied today.

St. Cyprian was certainly not the perfect shepherd.  Only the Lord is such a shepherd.  Cyprian served in a time of persecution under the Romans.  At one point, as Christians were being executed, Bishop Cyprian went into hiding.  Was this cowardice on his part?  Or was he thinking of preserving the shepherd of the flock for their good?  This is not an easy question, dear friends.  For the church needs pastors.  Should pastors – even bishops – seek to preserve their lives, or should they submit to the sword and leave the flock without a shepherd?

Bishop Cyprian was roundly criticized for his decision to oversee and shepherd the flock from safety.  And when the persecutions of the year 250 under Emperor Decius stopped, there was a lot of anger in the church about those who lapsed from the Christian faith during the persecution.  Some said that this was an unforgivable sin.  Others said that the lapsed should be immediately forgiven and brought back into the flock.  Ultimately, the church took the suggestion of Bishop Cyprian and welcomed in the lapsed, but only after a period of public repentance.

Bishop Cyprian also comforted the Lord’s flock during the time of a great plague, and of course, preached the Gospel of the Good Shepherd, in whose service Cyprian stood as an elder and overseer.  

For once again, the job of the pastor is to shepherd the flock on behalf of the Good Shepherd, and to proclaim the Good Shepherd, who is our Lord Jesus Christ, in his preaching – and to do so in good times and in bad, to continue in this Word and work even in times of plagues, wars, and persecution.  

And having shepherds among them, the flock must remain as a flock, to continue to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd through the proclamation and work of their shepherds in the Holy Office, to continue to gather for worship, to hear the life-saving Word of God, to partake of the Holy Sacraments, and to strengthen one another by being here, together, as a flock.  

For just as the pastor has his calling to gather the flock, the flock has its calling to be gathered.  If the pastor’s job is to pastor, it is the laity’s job to be pastored.  If you want the Lord to be your Shepherd, if you want to lack nothing, if you desire God Himself to provide you with “green pastures” and “still waters,” to “restore” your soul and lead you in the “paths of righteousness” – then you must be shepherded – here in the Divine Service, where the flock is fed the very Bread of Life, and they are watered with Holy Baptism, where the cup of the Lord’s grace in the chalice overflows with His merciful blood of the New Testament, of salvation.

For your shepherd – your pastor, but ultimately your Lord – shepherds you throughout your life in this fallen world, guiding you even “through the valley of the shadow of death.”  You can face every manner of things in this life: persecution, plague, and even death, fearing no evil, for God is with you.  His rod and staff comfort you, and that rod and staff are given to pastors and bishops, to be your shepherd, by shepherding you to the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for the sheep.

Bishop Cyprian ultimately imitated His Good Shepherd, the Bishop of His soul, our Lord Jesus Christ, by laying down his own life for the sheep.  Another persecution broke out.  Bishop Cyprian did not go into hiding, but continued to shepherd the flock of God.  He was arrested in the year 257 and ordered to sacrifice to the pagan gods.  He refused.  Because of his confession of the Good Shepherd, Bishop Cyprian was sentenced to death by the sword.  His response was “Thanks be to God” – which we sing at the end of the liturgy, just before the final blessing.  St. Cyprian received the final blessing of martyrdom on September 14.  Following the example of centuries of our fathers in the faith, we remember St. Cyprian each year on September 16.

As a theologian, St. Cyprian’s writings are not academic, but deal with real pastoral issues.  For above all things, that’s what St. Cyprian was in his life on this side of the grave: a pastor, a shepherd of the flock of God, a servant of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord.  

To be the flock of God is to willingly follow our Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ, in good times and in bad, when we are prosperous and when we are persecuted, when we are healthy, and as we go through the valley of the shadow of death, when we are loved by our countrymen, and when we are hated, when is costs nothing to follow Jesus, and when the cost of discipleship is to bear the cross and suffer even death.  

Let us follow Jesus, dear friends, whether we are called to be a shepherd or whether we are members of the flock.  For ultimately, we are all members of the flock of God, gathered as a church by the Good Shepherd, who provides us with our life, with everything that we need in this mortal journey, with shepherds to lead us, with preachers to exhort and encourage us, with the oasis and grazing grounds of the Divine Service, where we are fed and strengthened so that we too, when our last hour comes, may pray, “Thanks be to God,” and receive the blessing at the end of our service to God in his valley of tears, being gathered by our Good Shepherd into the flock of the Church Triumphant.

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Sept 15

15 September 2019

Text: 2 Chron 34:1-4, 8-11, 14-33

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

King Josiah began his reign at the age of eight.  He was one of the minority of kings of Judah who “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord.”  Moreover, he “walked in the ways of David his father; and he did not turn aside to the right hand or to the left.”  

When he was only sixteen years of age, King Josiah began to pray to the Lord.  At the age of twenty, he boldly destroyed the pagan idols of Jerusalem.  He ordered the altars of the Baals, that is, the false demon gods, to be chopped down.  

The Lord used Josiah in a great reformation, restoring God’s Word to the people after their previous leaders led them into idolatry, and a neglect of the Word of God.  The kings of Judah had even allowed the beautiful temple to “go to ruin,” and Josiah oversaw its restoration.  And you’ll never guess what turned up during the project: “The Book of the Law.”  It had been lost for generations.

It is no wonder that the country fell to idolatry.  They had neglected the Word of God.  “And when the king heard the words of the Law, he tore his clothes” in shame and distress.  Can you just imagine, dear friends, the Bible had not been read in so long, that the entire nation forgot what was in it!  Things had gotten so bad that there were not even any male prophets left, and Hulda, the prophetess, bore the Word of the Lord that Judah would be judged for this grievous sin, but that King Josiah would be spared, because he humbled himself before the Lord.

King Josiah ordered the people to gather and to hear the reading of the Word of the Lord.  The people repented, and the king restored worship of the true God to Judah.

Dear friends, this kind of reformation took place in the Church as well, as reformers in the city after which our school was named, restored the reading of the Holy Scriptures to the people, bringing the Word back to the people in the language of the people, teaching students the true Word of God and not pagan superstition.  But we must be careful not to rest on the laurels of King Josiah and Martin Luther.  For we must continue to hear the Word of God, study it, pray it, proclaim it, and take it to heart.  We must raise up young men and women who will, like Josiah, hold the church accountable to submit to the Word, who will raise children in the Word, and who will lead our country away from the idolatry and paganism that surrounds us and threatens us with divine wrath.  

Let us indeed take up the mantle of Josiah’s Jerusalem and Luther’s Wittenberg, centering our faith and life on the living Word of God, the Holy Scriptures that testify to the Word Made Flesh, by whom we have forgiveness, life, and salvation!  Thanks be to God! 

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Meditation: Trinity 14 - 2020

13 September 2020

Text: Luke 17:11-19

 [Note: this meditation was read by the deacon in the absence of the pastor]

Today’s Gospel is not a parable, but an actual turn of events.  But it reads like a parable, because Jesus uses it to teach us about the kingdom of God, about our sinful nature, about the Lord’s mercy, and about what it means to live the Christian life.

Ten lepers stand “at a distance.”  Their leprosy keeps them away from God.  Sin is like leprosy.  It may make us ashamed to be around God, or it may make us not care if we are around Him or not.  And yet, something inside us draws us to Jesus when we realize that we need help.

The ten lepers cry out for mercy, just like we poor miserable sinners to in the liturgy: “Lord, have mercy upon us.  Christ, have mercy upon us.  Lord, have mercy upon us.”  Jesus hears their prayer and cleanses them of their leprosy.  Jesus hears our prayer and cleanses us of our sins: by His sacrificial blood shed on the cross, by the waters of Holy Baptism, and by His powerful Word: “Go, and show yourselves to the priests.”  The Word of Jesus enables us to stand forgiven before the Law.

So then what?  Nine of the lepers are healed, but do not return to give thanks.  But the Samaritan, the lowly and humble former leper falls before Jesus in worship and gives Him thanks and praise with his voice.  And this is what we do when we gather around Jesus in Word and Sacrament.  Our life as forgiven sinners continues in the presence of Jesus.  The Christian life is a life of gratitude.  Our entire lives are lived at the feet of our Master, and we are always praying and always giving thanks for His mercy.  We find our healing and our life in Him, even unto eternity. 

To be a Christian is to be the Tenth Leper, and it is our joy to hear our Lord say to us: “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”  

Amen.

 

 

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Sept 8

8 September 2019

Text: Phil 1:1-20

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”  This is how St. Paul opened his letter to the Philippians, and this is an appropriate opening to our 2020-2021 school year at Wittenberg Academy.  

 St. Paul begins this joyous letter with thanksgiving to God, calling to mind the “partnership in the gospel” that he shared with the Philippian Christians, as he addressed the letter: “to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons.”  And it is also my joy to begin this new year of grace in our educational journey together with you, the saints of Wittenberg, with the pastors and the teachers and all of the other servants of our school.  For we are all partners in the Gospel as we ply our vocations together: students, parents, faculty, staff, and administration.  

 And like St. Paul, I give thanks to God for our school, for those who teach, for those who learn, for those who serve, and also for parents, whose sacrifice in love for their children also makes it possible for us to partner in the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 And though his letter to the Church at Philippi was joyful in tone, St. Paul wrote from prison.  And while none of us are in prison, dear friends, I know that many of our churches are still under strict restraints, and some are still unable to meet due to the virus.  We have all suffered in many and various ways as a result of this pandemic and the restrictions – not to mention our burning cities and deep divisions that plague our country.  And yet, we give thanks to God just as did St. Paul, for we “are all partakers with [him] of grace.” 

 And I know that the prayer of our school for our students as we set out on the journey of a new school year together, dear friends, is indeed St. Paul’s prayer: “that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.” 

 Amen.

 In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon: Trinity 13 - 2020

6 September 2020

Text: Luke 10:23-37

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Today’s Gospel is our Lord’s most famous story.  By this parable, Jesus has given nearly every language in the world a common expression: “Good Samaritan.”  A “Good Samaritan” is a person who helps other people voluntarily, and expects nothing in return.  There are various agencies that provide aid that go by this name.  Laws protecting volunteers who render aid to those in need from being sued are called “Good Samaritan laws.”

But this story was not always popular with everyone.  For Jesus targets the Jewish religious leaders, that is, the priests and the scribes – and calls them out for their hypocrisy.  To pour salt into the wound, in the story, they are shown up by a Samaritan – who was a hated ethnic minority of that time and place.  Our Lord’s story is not nice to the people in charge: it was seen as provocative, obnoxious, and as many scolds and finger-waggers like to say today: “inappropriate.”

So what is the point of this parable, dear friends?  Why did Jesus tell this controversial tale?  Was He trying to shame people into repenting and acting better?  Was He teaching us how to live out a life of faith and service?  Was He teaching us about Himself?

One of the beautiful things about Scripture – being the Word of God – is that it never runs dry.  You can hear this story read and preached every year at this time, you can read it again and again, and you will never exhaust what the Lord wants you to hear.

There is indeed a moral imperative to this parable.  After all, Jesus tells the listener to whom He tells the story, “You go, and do likewise.”  This is indeed a call to repentance to the lawyer who desired to “justify himself” by asking “Who is my neighbor?”  He wanted to earn his salvation, and so he wanted to know whom to love so that he could benefit from it.

Do you see how terrible this is?  “Who is my neighbor, Jesus, so I can go be nice to that person for my own sake, because I want eternal life.”  How twisted it is to seek to do a good deed for someone just so you can get a benefit for yourself.  This is not love.  This is not keeping the commandments.

Our Lord’s story exposes the hypocrisy of our lawyer by putting his indifference and his self-centeredness into the characters of the priest and the Levite.  And both were shown up by the mercy and love of the Samaritan.  Jesus is calling the lawyer to repent, to put his trust in the Lord and not in himself to be justified.  And in so doing, he would be freed up to think of his neighbor – who is anyone in need – and to serve that neighbor in love, even as God Himself has served him.

But what is Jesus teaching us, dear friends?  Well, there is a little lawyer in all of us.  We want to be praised by men.  We want God to take notice of our good deeds.  Of course, we want God to overlook our sins.  Even our desire to serve God is tainted with the sinful nature that sticks to us like glue.  And so, He calls us to repent, to stop trying to justify ourselves, and to love our neighbors.  All of them.

He is also teaching us how the Christian is to live his life.  He looks for ways to be a Good Samaritan – not for his own sake, but for the sake of those in need.  God knows we are surrounded by neighbors who need to hear the Good News, who need love, who need help in carrying out the things of this life, who are struggling with health issues, with home, with family, with finances.  There are people who simply need companionship and hope.  Everyone needs a Good Samaritan, and our Lord calls us to “go and do likewise.”  And by focusing on the needs of others, we don’t become obsessed with ourselves.

But once more, dear friends, this passage is like a multifaceted diamond that sparkles all the more as you twist it in the light and look at it from a different angle.  For remember our lawyer’s question – and a lawyer’s question is never really an actual question: “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?”  If you inherit something, you don’t do anything.  You inherit something – including eternal life – when someone dies and wills it to you.  A lawyer, above all people, knows how inheritance works.  

If you want to inherit eternal life, you need to know who has it. He must will it to you.  Then he must die.  You need to stop thinking that you can do anything on your own to get it. 

Our lawyer also erred by trying to “justify himself.”  For once again, there is no action that you can do to “justify yourself.”  Rather we are justified by One who is just.  And the one who is just shows mercy.  If you want to be justified, dear friends, look to the Merciful One, look to the One who was despised by the priests and Levites, but who, unlike them, shows mercy to you when you are beaten up by this world and left half-dead, when you are bleeding, whether literally or figuratively, and when you desperately need help to stay alive.  And when the Law does nothing for you – the priests and the Levites – look for One who will help: and that is Jesus Christ our Lord.

We inherit eternal life because it is God’s will.  He wills it to you, dear brother, dear sister.  And that will is executed because He has died.  His death on the cross atones for you and gives you eternal life as a gift, as an inheritance from the one who wills it.  

You do not have to justify yourself, because our Good Samaritan is merciful.  Though we deserve God’s wrath, we receive His mercy.  He binds up our wounds when we are battered by the world, the devil, and our sinful nature.  And our bleeding flesh is salved with oil and wine – medicine from the Lord Himself.  And He carries us to our heavenly home by means of His own creatures – even bread and wine which are, by His Word, His very body and blood, and by water poured in His divine name, which washes us free from sin.  And He pays for the damage done to us, and by us, paying “not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.”  And He even promises to come back, just like the Good Samaritan in His story.

Jesus is the Good Samaritan, and He teaches us about Himself in this parable.  

So, dear friends, there is Law in this tale: the Law that calls us to repent and teaches us how to live the Christian life.  And there is Gospel here as well: our Lord Jesus Christ teaching us that we are saved by grace, through faith, by means of His Word, by His will, by His mercy.

Let us hear this Word, ponder this Word, rejoice at this Word, and thank the Word Made Flesh, our Good Samaritan, who binds up our wounds by means of His wounds, who pays our debts out of His own treasure, and who justifies us so that we do not have to attempt to justify ourselves by lying to ourselves.

And in gratitude, let us find our neighbor in need and serve him, being that Good Samaritan, being the love of Christ to those in need, being a neighbor to those who have been beaten half-dead by our fallen world.  And let us indeed “go and do likewise,” not in search of salvation or selfish gain, but in genuine love, remembering the command and the promise: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”

And let us always thank, praise, serve, and obey our Good Samaritan, the One who shows us mercy.  

Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.