Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Holy Week - 2021

March 30, 2021

Text: Hebrews 3:1-19

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

The author of Hebrews warns us, dear friends, not to take our salvation for granted, not to be “hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.”  For we have a treasure that was given to us as a free gift at our baptisms, and we “have come to share in Christ,” partaking of His mercy, His salvation, His eternal life, inheriting all good things from the Father, “if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end.”

The author cites the Psalmist, who remembers and laments the disobedience of the children of Israel in the wilderness under Moses, their “rebellion,” their going “astray,” their putting God “to the test.”  We must pay heed to the Scriptures, how the Word of God shares with us concrete historical examples of those who hardened their hearts and did not enter God’s rest.

Rather than repeat their tragic example, we must follow Jesus: “the apostle and high priest of our confession,” for He is the New and Greater Moses, the one who not only leads us out of our slavery to sin, but who is worthy to take us into the Promised Land.  For He is also the New and Greater Joshua, completing that which Moses could not do.  For Jesus doesn’t merely deliver to us the Law, but He also provides us with the Gospel in His flesh and blood.  He offers forgiveness even to those who stray and return, to those who rebel but repent, to those who harden their heart, but later hear the Word of God and are restored to baptismal grace.

As the author of Hebrews reminds us, those who “fell in the wilderness” were denied entry into the Promised Land because of their disobedience were ultimately “unable to enter because of unbelief,” that is, because of their lack of faith.  They rebelled instead of repented, because they did not have faith in the Word of God that Moses brought to them.  They disbelieved the Law, and so they also disbelieved the Gospel.  The Scriptures did not take root in them like a seed in good soil, because they refused to allow it to germinate.  They rejected the gift of the Word, and so rejected even the faith that was also a gift.

Let us take their example to heart, dear friends.  Let us hear the Word from the Word Made Flesh, and let it take root in us, drawing us especially this Holy Week to our Lord’s cross, to the Promised Land of forgiveness, life, and salvation by His blood – even as He is the very High Priest who makes atonement for us.

For as great as Moses was, “Christ is faithful over God’s house as a Son.  And we are in His house if indeed we hold fast our confidence and our boasting in our hope.”

Amen.

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

 

Sunday, March 28, 2021

Sermon: Palmarum (Palm Sunday) - 2021

28 March 2021

Text: Matt 21:1-9, 26:1-27:66

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

In film-making, there’s a technique we all know about called  the “flash-back.”  We are allowed to look back into time, sometimes from a character’s point of view, or from a God’s-eye view that fills in events from the past to help us understand the story.

But there’s also a technique called the “flash-forward,” where we are given the chance to look into events yet to come, and again, this can be from the point of view of a character, or from a God’s-eye view where we can see everything.

The readings on Palm Sunday form a present tense narrative of our Lord entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday from Matthew 21, and then in our Gospel reading, we get a flash-forward to what is coming on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, from Matthew 26 and 27. 

And so Palm Sunday commemorates the beginning of Holy Week, when our Lord triumphantly entered the Holy City, and flashes forward as we celebrate the Sunday of the Passion, pondering the events yet to come that we will commemorate  later in the week. 

And as we entered our holy house of worship, named “Salem,” in honor of Jerusalem, we came in with palm branches, singing “Hosanna” – just like the “crowds that went before Him and followed Him,” waving branches and spreading them on the road as a royal welcome.  The crowds shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest!”

And Jesus rode into the city: “humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.”  But this image, dear friends, is a flashback to when King Solomon, the Son of David, rode triumphantly into David’s Royal City to be received as the king.  He too rode humbly on a donkey, and was greeted by the shouting crowds. 

Jesus is the Greater Son of David, and His conveyance on a donkey is also symbolic.  In the ancient world, if a king rode a horse, he came in war.  If he rode a donkey or mule, he came in peace.  Our Lord Jesus Christ comes to us in peace.  He makes war on Satan, but He does not make war on us.  For He has come not to condemn us, but to save us.  He will ride a horse in His return, but on this day, He rides a donkey.  And the crowds cry out “Hosanna!” a Hebrew word that means, “Save us!”  For a good king was seen as a savior, a shepherd who serves his people, not a tyrant who comes to devour them.

And yet, even as these crowds chant, “Hosanna,” we flash forward to those crowds who will chant, “Crucify!”

After He rides triumphantly into David’s Royal City, our Lord and King has business to attend to.  He will head straight to the temple and cleanse it, casting out the money-changers and merchants.  He will also perform miracles of healing.  He is establishing His lordship over even the chief priests and the scribes, and as the children in the temple continue to cry out, “Hosanna!” the authorities become resentful and indignant.  They challenge His authority, but our Lord makes them look like fools.  He then tells a series of parables explaining that those who will inherit the kingdom are not the pompous Pharisees, scribes, and elders, but rather the “rabble” and the children who sang “Hosanna” with their palms.  His parables also predict His own death, casting the religious leaders as the villains.  He then preaches a thunderous sermon against the scribes and Pharisees, and then prophesies about the end of the world. 

And it is here, dear brothers and sisters, that we begin our flash-forward.  The so-called high priest is Caiaphas (of course Jesus is the true High Priest and King).  The enemies of Jesus enter into a conspiracy at the home of Caiaphas to kill Jesus.  But they are afraid of the people.  For the people who welcomed Jesus as their King saw His miracles – including His recent raising of Lazarus from the dead.  They heard Him preach.  They knew that He is the Messiah.  So killing Him will be tricky.

And Judas, who came into Jerusalem with Jesus, has become a traitor.  He takes money to betray Jesus.  Our Lord celebrates His final Passover with the disciples, and just after taking Holy Communion from the hand of Jesus, Judas leaves to commit His treachery.  The Passover is a flash-back to the children of Israel leaving Egypt, led by their savior Moses.  They ate a sacrificial lamb whose blood protected them from the angel of death.  And when we celebrate Holy Communion, dear friends, it is also a flashback to this Last Supper and to the Passover.  For the blood of Jesus protects us from eternal death.  He is the “Lamb of God that takest away the sin of the world.”  He is the Passover Lamb to end all Passover lambs. 

Our flash-forward continues with Jesus preparing Himself for His arrest and passion, by prayer, in which the disciples cannot stay awake with Him.  And then we see Peter being told that He would deny Jesus, he who likewise joined our Lord in His ride into the Holy City.  And this would come true very soon.

Jesus is betrayed and arrested – no more treated like a king, but treated like a traitor to the nation.  Caiaphas conducts a sham trial, and sends Jesus to be tried by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor.  Pilate believes Him to be innocent and tries everything he can think of to release Jesus, but the crowds, no longer shouting “Save us,” are now shouting, “Condemn Him!” 

Jesus the King who rode on the donkey of peace is mocked by the soldiers, men of war, who dress Him in royal robes, crown Him with thorns, and beat Him.  Instead of being led to the cheers of crowds waving palms, He is marched to the jeers of the mobs waving fists. 

Our flash forward takes us to the cross – for that is where this narrative finds its fulfillment, dear friends.  This is our Lord’s enthronement and coronation.  This is where He sues for peace between God and man, and this is where He makes war upon Satan and defeats him.  Christ’s blood shed on the tree fulfills the prayer, “Hosanna!” – for here is where He indeed saves us, our Shepherd King who lays down His life for those whom He rules. 

 Our Lord dies, the sacrificial Lamb without blemish, the Priest who offers the oblation.  And there are even more miraculous signs: darkness at noon, an earthquake, the temple curtain that separated God and man tears in two, and a resurrection of some of the dead in the tombs.  One of the Roman soldiers confessed Him as “the Son of God.”

 Our Lord is buried in the tomb and the tomb is closed up by a stone and guarded with troops.  A government seal was placed on the stone.  And this is where our flash-forward ends, dear friends.  We are held in suspense until we catch up with these events on Thursday and Friday of this week.  For we will follow Jesus to the cross and to the tomb this week, and we know what is to come on Sunday.

 Meanwhile, let us linger with the crowds and with the singing children.  Let us sing our “Hosannas” and welcome Him to be present with us here, in our own little corner of Jerusalem, our Salem, we who confess Him as our King, as our Savior, as our Priest, as our Lamb, and as the Christ, the Son of the living God.  Let us rejoice, knowing that our prayer, “Save us!” is answered unequivocally at the cross, and sealed by His blood, let us partake in His body and blood, the one and the same that was offered to the twelve, the very same born of the virgin Mary and who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried – the same who is risen and who will return in glory.

All glory, laud, and honor
To You, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.

As You received their praises,
Accept the prayers we bring,
O source of every blessing,
Our good and gracious King.

Amen.

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

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Lent 5 - 2021

March 23, 2021

Text: Mark 14:53-72

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Justice is often used as a pretense for injustice. 

Our Lord was arrested on false charges and put on trial illegally.  It was unlawful to try someone at night, and those on the council known to be friendly toward Jesus were not notified of the hearing.  The Council sought “testimony against Jesus to put Him to death, but they found none.”  For “many bore false witness against Him, but their testimony did not agree.” 

Justice is often used as a pretense to destroy an inconvenient enemy or rival.

More false testimony ensued, including a metaphor that Jesus employed about destroying the temple – but “even about this their testimony did not agree.”  Knowing that His mission was to die convicted of guilt while being innocent, our Lord offered no defense.  Rather, “He remained silent and made no answer.”  The prosecution certainly did not expect this.  They finally asked Jesus if He were the Christ.  His response to this question, His affirmation, is what brought about their wrongful “guilty” verdict in their illegal trial.

Justice in this case was used as a pretense by the prosecution, but as providence by God.

For our Lord Jesus Christ, like the Scapegoat of the Old Testament, was imputed with guilt and sent to die in our place, even as his righteousness was imputed to us.  He was denied justice so that we too might be denied justice.  For if we were judged by an honest court without pretenses, one that heard correct testimony and rendered a just verdict, we would be condemned “as deserving death.”  But He bore the brunt of our sins so that we might be released from the prison that we deserve.

Thanks be to God our Father that He too runs a rigged justice system, in which the innocent is convicted and the guilty go free. And in this divine justice system, the enemy, Satan, is destroyed even by means of this miscarriage of justice: the passion and death of our Lord.

Amen.

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

 

Sunday, March 21, 2021

Sermon: Judica (Lent 5) - 2021

21 March 2021

Text: John 8:42-59

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

We Christians are often told that we should be more like Jesus.  This is, of course, true.  But when people say this, they usually think that Jesus condones sin and is just nice to everyone.  They have clearly never read even one of the Gospels.

Yes, we should be more like Jesus.  We are called to take up our cross and follow Him.  We should strive to be without sin – even though we are.  We should struggle to love others perfectly – even though we cannot.  But there is one thing that we cannot be, and that is the salvation of the world.  As the author of Hebrews says: “But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come… He entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of His own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption.”

That, dear friends, we cannot do.  We can only take up our own crosses.  We cannot save the world.  For only Jesus is our substitutionary sacrifice: the Ram caught in a crown of thorns who took the place of Isaac, and the burnt offering who willingly climbed up the hill with the wood on His own back.

And yet after all that our Lord has done for the world, He and His followers are reviled and hated.  Jesus compels no-one.  He does not force anyone to repent.  He does not make anybody listen to Him.  And this is true of the Church.  The exit door is open and unlocked.  Anyone who does not want to hear this sermon can leave.  Anyone who does not believe in Jesus as the redemption of the world is free to abstain from His body and blood.  Anyone who repudiates the faith is perfectly able to renounce his baptism and walk with us no more.

Unlike Muslim countries, there is no death penalty to those who change their minds.  Unlike an army at war, there is no firing squad for deserters.  Unlike Communist China, there are no concentration camps or bullets to the back of the head for dissenters.

And yet, in spite of the entirely voluntary nature of following Jesus, people become enraged – especially when we confess our faith or clarify what it is that we believe.  Simply saying what we believe within earshot of others may incur the wrath of the mob, the loss of a job or status as a student, ostracism from friends, or even criminal charges, as has happened in that repressive and regressive country that is becoming increasingly tyrannical: Canada.  Our own country is poised to pass a law known as the Equality Act that may well criminalize our faith.  It is sufficiently vague as to cause grave concern to many legal experts.

And all of this because we believe that Jesus is God, and we yield to the Bible as the only infallible source of truth.  In some places, simply saying there is objective truth at all is enough to incite violence.

And so it should hardly be shocking to hear the account in our Gospel of the assassination attempt on Jesus.  Our Lord held no political position, had no worldly authority, and coerced no-one.  Anybody and everybody was free to ignore Him, walk away from Him, and live as if He never existed.  But they wouldn’t.  Rather, “they picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid Himself and went out of the temple.”

In the words of the hymnist: “What makes this rage and spite?  He made the lame to run, He gave the blind their sight?”  What fuels their rage, dear friends, is not what he does, but who He is.  And this revelation is what triggered His would-be assassins in the temple: “Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.’” 

I am.

This is the name of God.  And Jesus uses it to make it very clear that He is not only older than Abraham, He created Abraham.  In fact, it was Jesus who provided the sacrificial ram for Abraham as a substitute for Abraham’s son Isaac.  It was also Jesus who wrestled with Isaac’s son Jacob and renamed him “Israel” – the one who wrestled with God.  It was Jesus who appeared to Moses in the burning bush, saying, “I am who I am.”  It is Jesus who is the Word, who was in the beginning with God and who was God.  It is Jesus who said, “Let there be light” – and the universe came into being.  And it is Jesus who redeems us by calling us out of our lives of darkness and sin into His marvelous light.  It is Jesus who said, “It is finished.”

The darkness hates the light.  Evil hates the good.  Satan loathes the Christ who destroyed him at the cross.  And the people, under the sway of the devil hate Jesus with an irrational rage.

This is why the crowds then hated Jesus, this is why the mobs today hate Jesus, and this is why you will be hated if you indeed confess Jesus (and if you are not hated, you’re doing it wrong):

“Jesus said to them, ‘If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and I am here. I came not of my own accord, but he sent me. Why do you not understand what I say? It is because you cannot bear to hear my word. You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies. But because I tell the truth, you do not believe me. Which one of you convicts me of sin? If I tell the truth, why do you not believe me? Whoever is of God hears the words of God. The reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God.’”

Our Lord spoke the truth – in season and out of season.  Both preachers and hearers of the Word are called to speak the truth “to men who like it or not like it not.”  We offer the world a more excellent way – not because we are excellent, but because we are not.  And since we are no better than the angry mobs who hate Jesus, and since His blood atones for us and we have salvation, we “receive the promised eternal inheritance.”  We do not speak in order to win an argument or to be found to be right.  Rather we confess this truth out of love for those who are dying without the vaccine, and that vaccine is the Medicine of Immortality that Jesus offers in His blood. 

But receiving the Medicine requires admitting that one is in need of it.  It requires humility to face this condemnation of the Law and to cry out to Jesus for help.  If you have ever wondered why our Divine Service has this prayer near the beginning: “Lord, have mercy,  Christ, have mercy,  Lord, have mercy,” that is the reason why.

Those who are under the sway of the prideful devil will not humble themselves.  Dear friends, this is why at our baptisms we vow to renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways.  And this is why the rage, the spite, the hatred, and even the legal persecution of Christians – who have no worldly power to make anyone listen to us.  And it is our cross to bear the world’s hatred as we follow our Lord. 

Yes, we should strive to be more like Jesus: renouncing the devil and being willing to confess the truth even in the face of mobs who hate us.  For it is love and the truth that conquers hatred and the lie.

Let us indeed be more like Jesus, willing to suffer for the sake of those who wish us harm.  Let us be more like Jesus in pointing people to the great “I am” who “entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of His own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption” for us and for those who will listen.

Amen.

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

Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Lent 4 - 2021

March 16, 2021

Text: Mark 12:13-27

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

There are honest questions, and then there are trick questions.  Our reading exposes our Lord’s opponents: the Pharisees, the Herodians, and the Sadducees for the hypocrites that they are.  They are not concerned with the truth.  They are concerned with being “right.”  Jesus is a challenge to their authority and way of life, and so they are also concerned with making Jesus look bad.

They are hoping for a “gotcha” moment, to tangle Jesus up in His own words.  They want to win the argument by hook or by crook, and they always underestimate their divine opponent.

And can you even imagine how foolish they are to try to “butter up” Jesus: “Teacher, we know that You are true and do not care about anyone’s opinion.  For You are not swayed by appearances, but truly teach the way of God.”  They think that Jesus is subject to the same shallow flattery that they are.  They think Jesus is as much of a hypocrite as they are.  They are in for a rude awakening.

The conservative Pharisees and Herodians hate the Romans.  They hate paying taxes to Rome.  But they also know that saying so would get you “canceled,” and in first century Rome, it wasn’t just a matter of getting your social media account suspended.  They are trying to trick Jesus into capital treason against the Roman government that they themselves hate and would like to overthrow.  Our Lord quickly dispatches this group by turning a Roman coin into an object lesson.  “And they marveled at Him.”

Next up are the Sadducees – the theological liberals who don’t believe in the resurrection.  So they try to trip Jesus up with a hypothetical question about remarriage.  Our Lord scolds them: “Is this not the reason you are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God?”  Our Lord quickly dispatches this group by revealing the nature of the afterlife, and then uses their own Scriptures to disprove their disbelief in the resurrection.  “You are quite wrong,” He tells them.

People still argue with Jesus by attempting to put “Gotchas” onto the Word of God, even to this day – as if anything they come up with is some kind of new discovery of something we Christians have never seen before.  Their motivation isn’t truth, but humiliation of those who confess the Word of God, fair or unfair, logical or not.  This is because our Lord’s enemies insist on being “right” – even when they aren’t.  They do not want to submit to His Word nor to Him who is the Word.  Let us always be willing to be corrected by the Word of God, and to submit humbly to Him who is God in human flesh, even Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen.

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

Sunday, March 14, 2021

Sermon: Laetare (Lent 4) - 2021

14 March 2021

Text: John 6:1-15 (Ex 16:2-21, Gal 4:21-31)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Unbelievers often ask how there can be suffering when God is all-knowing and all-merciful.  To know the answer to this only requires reading the first three chapters of the Bible. 

God created a perfect world – including Adam and Eve.  They lacked nothing.  But the serpent convinced Eve to disobey God and partake of the one forbidden fruit, promising that she would “be like God.”  When she and her husband listened to the serpent, chaos was unleashed on the earth.  And worst of all, Adam and Eve became mortal.  Their deaths were only a matter of time.  

God had made them to have minds of their own, and the ability to make decisions.  And what goes along with the power to make decisions is the necessity to live with the results.  Because of his sin, God told Adam, who was made from dust, that to dust he would return.  God also told him that the days of superabundant food were over.  He would have to work the ground, but it would not be productive like before.  Man had become burdened by scarcity.

Scarcity means more demand than supply.  And that means we have to figure out who gets what.  One way is that the biggest and strongest eat, and everyone else starves.  Charles Darwin thought this was a great way for nature to advance.  Another way is for men to work the land and trade with each other, taking advantage of the doctrine of vocation so that we could all do what we do best, and be most productive.  But even in this system, there is still scarcity.  And as Jesus said, there will always be the poor among us. 

A German Lutheran in the 1800s thought there might be a better way.  He imagined people sharing everything.  But he rejected the Bible and was a worshiper of  Satan.  He did not believe that fallen man had to deal with shortages.  He thought we could indeed be like God, and that science and management and education would overcome this curse of God.  He promised Eden without God.  He promised superabundance by rejecting God.  His name was Karl Marx.

And under his system, there was no paradise: only starvation and waste, only totalitarianism and the loss of human rights and dignity.  Hundreds of millions of people were killed by Marxist governments in the last century, all trying to overcome Adam’s curse.  But it only made the curse all the worse.

And there are better systems of government and economics than Marxism, but Jesus has a still more excellent way.  He does restore us to the way we were in the Garden of Eden – not with science or management or education, and not even by the division of labor and trade – but by forgiveness. 

And this is what our all-knowing and all-merciful God does about suffering: He takes on human flesh, He suffers with us and for us, He absorbs the curse of Adam into His own body, and He undoes all of the damage that we have done to the world.  He restores us to the image and likeness of God, He removes our mortality, He supplies us superabundantly, and He creates a new heaven and a new earth in which there will be no death.

We see a little glimpse into this in our Gospel, as the vast crowds came to hear Jesus, but there was not enough food.  Scarcity reared its ugly head.  Jesus took five loaves and two fish, and miraculously fed five thousand men and their families.  They “had eaten their fill” and there were “twelve baskets” of leftovers.  This is politics and economics like nobody had ever seen, and the crowds wanted to compel Jesus to be their political ruler – “but He withdrew to the mountain by Himself.”

Jesus was to be enthroned in a different way: on a cross.  For the feeding of the five thousand was but a preview of our future without scarcity.  It is a picture of the kingdom of God – which does not work like politics and economics in our fallen world.  Jesus is not of this world.  Nor is His kingdom.

Instead of scarcity, there will be abundance.  Instead of being tempted by the devil, the devil will be thrown into the lake of fire.  Instead of death, there will be everlasting life.  Instead of a curse, there will be a blessing.

We saw another preview of this world to come as the children of Israel, wandering in the desert, suffered scarcity.  They grumbled against Moses for liberating them, dreaming about the meat pots and eating bread “to the full” back in Egypt.  They conveniently forgot their slavery, their labor, and the meager rations. 

But in spite of their grumbling, our all-knowing and all-merciful Father feeds them with bread from heaven: manna.  This miraculous food did not run out, and it could not be saved.  God provided daily bread to the Israelites – beating back the curse of scarcity, for “whoever gathered much had nothing left over, and whoever gathered little had no lack.”

Not long after feeding the five thousand, Jesus would point out that He offers something even better: Himself: the true bread of life.  By eating His flesh and drinking His blood, we are given the gift of eternal life.  Not even time is scarce in God’s kingdom.  He is the fulfillment of the sign of the manna.  He is the true bread from heaven.  And the bread that He offers “for the life of the world” is His flesh.  “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life,” says Jesus, “and I will raise Him up on the last day.”

That is our Lord’s promise, dear friends.  Along with all of the things we need for this body and life, Jesus provides His body and blood for us to eat and drink, and so we have the gift of everlasting life.  He is our daily bread from heaven – better than the bread we eat today and are hungry tomorrow, and yes even better than the manna which the fathers ate in the wilderness, and still died.  Jesus is the bread from heaven, so that one who eats of this bread will not die!

The Israelites ate the manna after they had been freed from bondage and from the harsh rule of Pharaoh.  We too eat the Lord’s Supper, having been washed clean in Holy Baptism, being set free from slavery to sin and from the tyranny of the devil. 

St. Paul speaks of how much better it is to be free than to be a slave.  We Christians are not the spiritual heirs of the enslaved Hagar, but rather we are the spiritual heirs of Abraham and Sarah – children of the promise.  For just as the children of Israel were freed from their captivity in Egypt, we too are freed from our captivity to sin, death, and the devil.  For Jesus has overcome all three.

Yes, indeed, our God is all-knowing.  He knows what you need even before you ask, and He “richly and daily provides us with all that we need to support this body and life.”  But what’s more, He richly and eternally provides us all that we need to support everlasting life: His sacrifice on the cross, the gifts of Holy Baptism, of Holy Absolution, of the preached Word, and of the Holy Eucharist in which we eat His flesh and drink His blood, which come to us from heaven, by which we have everlasting life.

And as we venture on past those first three chapters of Genesis, we learn that God Himself is willing to suffer for us, for He is indeed all-knowing, all-merciful, all-loving, and all-sufficient for all of our needs.  His more excellent way is to restore paradise, to remove the curse, to defeat the devil, to raise us from death, to carry this all out by grace – and to accomplish it at the cross.  Rejoice with Jerusalem.  It is finished.

Amen.

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

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Sermon: Funeral of Ursula Bulot

13 March 2021

Text: John 11:20-27 (Isa 53:3-6, Rom 5:1-5)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Dear Michael, Jaime, Kelly, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, and honored guests.  Peace be with you.

This past year has confronted us with our own mortality.  Most of us know people who have died as a result of the pandemic, as well as others who have died resulting of the complications of dealing with the pandemic.  And in the midst of all of this, you lost your beloved Ursula.

It is for this reason that Arthur and Erna Jacobi brought their daughter to the waters of Holy Baptism, to be set apart as a child of God, made holy in the name of the only true God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  And in this sacrament, she received the gift that Jesus won for her: forgiveness, life, and salvation.

Seven hundred years before our Lord was born, the prophet Isaiah foretold of the Man of Sorrows: “Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows….  He was wounded for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities…. And the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”

As we confess week in and week out in our liturgy, we are all poor, miserable sinners.  Every single one of us.  And this is why we are mortal.  On Ash Wednesday, we were reminded: “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  This applies to all of us, from Adam, right down to the last person to be born before our Lord returns.  This mortal burden is placed upon all of us, even our most beloved, like Ursula.

But in spite of it, this Man of Sorrows, this Crucified One, has come to save us and redeem us.  He called Ursula by name at her baptism.  And he also bears your griefs and carries your sorrows in this time of temporary separation.  For the Crucified One is also the Risen One, even as Good Friday inevitably leads to Easter Sunday.

For that is the day of our Lord’s resurrection.  He conquered death, and promises bodily resurrection to all who are baptized and who believe.  This is a promise that Jesus made to Ursula, and it is a promise that God the Son keeps. 

Our Gospel lesson had to do with this very fact.  Jesus’ friend Lazarus died.  He was placed into a tomb.  The tomb was sealed.  His sisters Mary and Martha and their friends mourned his death.  Jesus showed up and interrupted the funeral.  He told Martha, “Your brother will rise again.”  And she confessed that he would indeed rise again, at the resurrection.  But Jesus made an exception for Lazarus, and raised him right then and there, saying: “I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.”

He then asked Martha: “Do you believe this?”  Jesus puts that question to all of us.  We confessed in the creed that we do indeed believe in “the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.”  For we Christians do not believe that the dead in Christ are destined to be spirits.  We do not believe what other religions believe.  Our faith is radical and even offensive to many.  For Jesus promises a physical, bodily resurrection.  We human beings are meant to live in the flesh: to eat and drink and embrace and laugh and live with our loved ones.  And Jesus will restore us to life again, in the flesh, on the last day.  We will, like Lazarus and like Jesus Himself, walk out of our own tombs.  You will see Ursula again.  Not a spirit, but a person.  You won’t have to content yourself with memories of her.  Rather you will look into her eyes and hear her speak.  You will embrace and laugh and share in the joy of what Jesus has done for us.  This is the promise Jesus made to Ursula at her baptism.  It is the promise made to all of us who believe in Him.

After Jesus told Martha that Lazarus would rise, He asked her: “Do you believe this?”  She replied, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.” 

And it is Jesus alone who is God who has come into our world.  We are rescued by no other name.  For only Jesus died for us on the cross and paid the penalty for the sins of the entire human race.  By this faith, by answering His question, “Do you believe this” with the same “yes” as Martha – we receive the gift of everlasting life.

St. Paul says, “Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”  Dear friends, we are redeemed by Christ, but we still live in this fallen world, hounded by death.  We still mourn, but we do so as people who have hope.  St. Paul speaks of our sufferings – like the suffering you are enduring now – as producing endurance, leading to character, leading to hope.  And in our hope, we receive God’s love “through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

While other religions teach that a person can climb his way to God by good works, it is only the Christian faith that reveals to us that it is God who comes down to us, as a baby in a manger, as a man of sorrows upon a cross, as a risen triumphant Lord leaving behind the tomb, as the sacrifice by which we are restored to communion with the Triune God in whose name we are washed.  And in coming down to us, Jesus saves us, and at the end of this mortal life, He calls us home, like a shepherd gathering His sheep.  And when the time comes, He will call all of us out of our tombs, as He did with Lazarus, and we will rise again.

That’s the promise God made to Ursula, and to all of us.  It is a promise He repeats to you right here and right now by means of His holy Word.  For Jesus is not just a prophet, as other religions believe, or some kind of great moral teacher, as the secular world tells us.  Jesus is God in the flesh.  He is the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in Him, though he die, yet shall he live.

So dear friends, take heart.  You will see Ursula again.  And you will nevermore be separated – even unto eternity.  

Amen.

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

Tuesday, March 09, 2021

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Lent 3 - 2021

March 9, 2021

Text: Mark 9:33-50

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

The disciples were discussing something embarrassing.  Jesus asked them about it and they just stood there looking at their sandals.  But He knew that they were arguing over who is the greatest disciple.  So Jesus is going to show them.  He places the greatest disciple in the middle – and it is none of the twelve.  Rather it is a “little child” – one so small that Jesus has to takes him up in His arms.

In the kingdom, greatness is not about accomplishment, intellectual prowess, riches, eloquence, physical strength, or charisma.  It isn’t about degrees, titles, positions, or ink on the resume.  Instead, greatness is humble service and childlike trust. 

For more than fifteen centuries, no Christian church or pastor ever refused baptism to these, our greatest disciples.  Only the radical wing of the Reformation, known as the Anabaptists, separated youth from Holy Baptism.  This is based on the idea that since these “little ones” lack reason, they are incapable of belief.  Hence, “believer’s Baptism” only administered after a certain level of mental development.  But faith and reason are not the same thing.  It doesn’t take intelligence to trust.  The kingdom of God does not exclude the mentally handicapped or those with dementia.  The greatest disciples of all are those who trust – not in themselves or their own strength, but who, in their weakness, trust in Jesus, in His Word.  Little children have no problem believing the Word of God.  As we get older, our reason is often an impediment to our faith rather than empowering it.

This idea that these little ones cannot believe in Jesus is contradicted by our Lord’s clear words in Scripture, referring to “these little ones who believe in Me.”  It doesn’t get much clearer than that, dear friends.

The disciples were right to be embarrassed by their vainglory.  And so should we.  In several contexts, I’ve heard lay people who serve alongside pastors complain that they should not be relegated to pouring coffee, as if this were demeaning work.  But as I pointed out, it is often the pastors and chaplains who pour coffee for people, fetch water for others, and look for humble ways to comfort and be of service.  Truth be told, pastors do a lot of things that people don’t see on Sunday morning.  And this is true with lay Christians as well – who should never think that their work for the kingdom is inferior to those who are called to preach and teach.

“If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.”

Amen.

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

Sunday, March 07, 2021

Sermon: Oculi (Lent 3) - 2021

7 March 2021

Text: Luke 11:14-28 (Ex 8:16-24, Eph 5:1-9)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Our Lord’s opponents and enemies are so jealous of Him, that no matter what He does, it must be evil.  So when He heals people from horrific diseases and gives them a new lease on life, His enemies attack Him for “working on the Sabbath.”  Of course, they don’t mind the priests working on the Sabbath, nor do they refrain from saving one of their livestock animals that falls and needs rescued on the Sabbath.

In addition to miraculous healings and feedings of thousands, our Lord casts out demons.  And today’s Gospel deals with one such successful exorcism done by Jesus.  Instead of giving thanks to God that this man who was formerly held captive by a devil that actually made him unable to speak, the people that hate Jesus came up with a novel way to explain the successful exorcism and express hatred of Jesus at the same time: “He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the prince of demons.”

Can you imagine being at war, and your county’s general continues winning battle after battle, taking the fight to the enemy and crushing them – only to have the news media back home spreading a conspiracy theory that the general is only winning battles because he is secretly in league with the enemy that he is defeating?

Our Lord points out how ridiculous this charge against Him is by appealing to common sense and history: “Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and a divided household falls.  And if Satan also is divided against himself, how will his kingdom stand?”  He also points to the Jewish exorcists, and asks rhetorically by whom they cast out demons. 

Satan is the enemy.  We mention him every time we pray the Lord’s prayer: “Deliver us from evil.”  A better translation is “deliver us from the evil one.”  In Luther’s morning and evening prayers, we pray “Let Your holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me.”  Satan has been our enemy ever since he brought death and chaos into our perfect world by deceiving Eve and by luring Adam to participate in her sin.  And because of Adam, we are all plagued by sin and death.  Jesus has come to cure us of every disease, raise us from death, defeat the devil, and to accomplish all of this at the cross by crushing the head of the devil.

It is easy to forget that we are at war – especially when we assume that our tomorrows will always be better than our yesterdays, when we are relatively free, unlike people living under tyrannical governments, when we are wealthy and can afford luxuries and have plenty to eat.  Technology just keeps getting better, and we have plenty of things to distract us from really looking evil in the eye. 

But every now and then, we are reminded of the devil’s hatred for us, and the fact that we need to be rescued.  And just as Jesus had His enemies when He walked the earth, He still does today.  There are mockers, who make us ashamed to be Christians.  There are haters, who are on an active campaign to destroy the church and cripple our faith.  There are cultural and political forces that know that we are their enemy, and they apply pressure to stifle and silence us – even if many Christians still think we are friends with the world.  There are demons – the same unseen spirits that Jesus cast out – who oppress us, tempt us, and try to separate us from Christ.  And Jesus is still with us to deliver us from evil, to free us from bondage to sin, Satan, and death, and to provide us with the weaponized Word of God and fortifying sacraments as we fight for King and kingdom – and for each other.

We do not cast out demons by our own strength.  We do not forgive sins by our own righteousness.  We do not win the victory over the devil by our own mighty power.  We have a general who is our King and our Savior, our Redeemer, and our access to God Himself in space and time.  God never slumbers nor sleeps, nor does He take off Sundays to leave us at the mercy of the devil.  And He certainly never cooperates with the kingdom of darkness nor does the bidding of our old evil foe.

Jesus describes His power over Satan using a curious term: the “finger of God.”  There is a famous painting by Michelangelo, depicting the creation, in which God is touching fingers with Adam and giving him the spark of life.  Indeed, the Holy Spirit is the “finger of God” by whom the Father gives life to mankind.  For the Spirit is the “Lord and giver of life.”  Jesus uses this term “finger of God” because it was used in the Old Testament – and we heard it read again today.

The term “finger of God” was actually said by the enemies of the people of God, the Egyptian magicians who were priests of false gods – including the Pharaoh himself.  They could not reproduce the plagues that God allowed Moses to create in Egypt to try to bring Pharaoh to repentance and get him to liberate the children of Israel from their slavery.  The magicians confessed that the “finger of God” was bringing on the plagues, and their false gods and their secret arts and magic could neither recreate it, nor stop it.  When the Spirit comes to each of us, we can resist or we can receive Him in faith and repentance.  Pharaoh did not repent, rather his “heart was hardened.” 

Our Lord Jesus Christ knows that His hearers know this term.  They have heard the story of the Exodus again and again in their lives.  He is, in a sense, comparing them to the feeble magicians and the unrepentant Pharaoh, he who resisted God the Holy Spirit, whose hardened heart was to bring only more plagues, and ultimately death, to his people and his own household as a result. 

The Holy Spirit “proceeds from the Father and the Son.”  The Lord sends each of us this same “finger of God” as a free gift to fight for us and defend us from all evil – even the evil one and his demons.  But the free gift can, and often is, rejected, dear friends.  And those who reject this gift are the ones who align themselves with Beelzebul.  They are the ones whose hardened hearts will only bring more devils, more plagues, and death itself: eternal death.  Such blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, this refusal to believe that the Lord Jesus has come to free us from sin, is indeed the one sin that cannot be forgiven – because one who commits this sin refuses to ask to be forgiven. 

For as our Lord says: “If it is by the finger of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.”  He comes upon you, dear friends, not to destroy you, but to save you.  Jesus Himself went to the cross as a willing sacrifice, a substitutionary offering for our sins, so that we may receive the gift of His righteousness.  This is given to you by the finger of God, the Holy Spirit that you receive when you hear His Word and partake of His sacraments. 

Jesus has come indeed to cast out all demons, Beelzebul, Satan, and every evil.  He calls us to repent and receive the Holy Spirit.  As St. Paul says, our Lord “loved us and gave Himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

As we exorcise those young and old who come to us to receive the free gift Holy Baptism, we continue to cast out demons today, saying: “Depart you unclean spirit, and make room for the Holy Spirit…”

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

Tuesday, March 02, 2021

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Lent 2

March 2, 2021

Text: Mark 6:35-56

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

In our reading from his Gospel, St. Mark the Evangelist records three miracles of our Lord back to back: the feeding of the five thousand, the calming of the sea, and the healing of many sick people.  At first, there may be no apparent connection between such things.  Maybe Jesus is merely putting on a show of His power to prove that He is God.  Well, He is indeed doing that, but that is not “merely” what He is doing.

Each of these miracles is a blow directed at the devil.  Each of these miracles addresses damage that mankind has done to himself.  Each of these miracles is an overturning of sin’s domination of mankind and of the world. 

The feeding of the five thousand calls to mind the curse given to Adam in the Garden, the fact that there would be shortages of food, and hard labor would be required to produce the bread that sustains this body and life.  In the midst of people going hungry – people who are hungry for the Word of God – Jesus provides for them by His mighty power, turning away Satan’s leverage over mankind that encourages him to sin against his neighbor for the sake of survival.

The calming of the storm calls to mind the many natural disasters that we in the post-Fall world consider normal and natural.  Of course the most calamitous of all was the great flood that wiped out everyone except for Noah and his family.  Jesus restores the calm that was at first typical of the entire world – thus beating back the devil’s chaos with the peace and order that comes through His Word and will.

The healing of the multitudes on the other side of the lake calls to mind the curse that all of us have, that to dust we are and to dust we shall return.  Our bodies wear out.  We have horrific diseases that lay us down into the grave.  But by His touch and by His command, Jesus rebukes Satan once more, whose delight is to see us suffer and die.  By the command of Jesus, we are taken out of death and given new life.

And thus in these passages, we learn that Jesus is God.  But what’s more, we learn that He loves us and has a plan for our restoration, the defeat of the devil, and the turning back of sin and its consequences.  Our Lord Jesus Christ gives us a little taste of heaven, just as He does when he invites us to hear His Word and to partake of His Supper.  Thanks be to God!

Amen.

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

Monday, March 01, 2021

Racism and Reputation

Note: This article was published by my friends at the Abbeville Institute.  You can read it either there, or you can read it here at FH.

Two terms that are tossed about with great liberality today are “racist” and “white supremacist.”  Like other words with specific definitions, such as “fascist” and “Nazi,” these labels are losing their specific social, economic, political, and legal meaning, and have essentially become nondescript slurs thrown at anyone a Progressive disagrees with.

All of these words are routinely used against those who might describe themselves as “conservative,” “traditionalist,” “Christian,” “capitalist,” “patriotic,” or “libertarian.”  This is a clever Orwellian strategy to recast mainstream people as outcasts of society – a carefully crafted linguistic trick to marginalize, dehumanize, and eliminate an opponent by rhetoric and dishonest implication. 

And given the politically correct power of academia, government, and Big Tech, nobody wants to be on the business end of this kind of name-calling.  It has a chilling effect on freedom – and even the ability to hold a job – and thus pushes a totalitarian narrative that is a betrayal of not only our American ethos, but of natural law and Christian anthropology and theology itself.  It is a way to demonize nearly half of the country, and it is almost always based on a lie.

Just to take the first term: “racist.”  What is the concept of “racism”?  Racism is a form of bigotry against a person’s “race.”  The term “race” is not very precise, as the older classifications of humanity into three or four taxonomic groupings is no longer standard.  And so “racism” can mean bigotry against a person based upon his skin tone or other characteristics derived from his ethnicity.  Obviously, a typical seventh generation Norwegian and a typical seventh generation Ethiopian look very different.  Bigotry or hatred against people based on these differences is a clear and reasonable definition of “racism.” 

It is not racism for a Norwegian to cheer on his own Olympic team, or for an Ethiopian to feel at home among people who speak his language and share his culture and history.  Nor is it racism if a Norwegian or an Ethiopian is a Christian or votes for a conservative political candidate.  Nor is it racism if an Ethiopian and a Norwegian disagree with each other in terms of economics or politics.

And as the world has shrunk, and as race-based slavery, segregation, and apartheid (political and social arrangements based on an actual legal arrangement of “white supremacy”) have long since become condemned historical relics, actual racism is likewise drifting into cultural and political insignificance.  Interracial marriages and people of mixed ethnic backgrounds have today become common – even though such marriages were illegal only a few decades ago.  Moreover, there has never been a better time to be black in the West than today.  Thirteen years ago, America elected a black president – even as the black population of the United States is a mere 13% of the population. 

But the term “racism” remains politically and socially powerful and useful.  It is a word of subjective and fluid meaning, and can thus essentially be used by anyone to accuse anyone else of repugnant views – and those views being vilified often have nothing to do with either race or bigotry!

I recently learned that some users of Twitter (I am not on the platform), apparently members of Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod churches – have been throwing the term around to denounce the more conservative members of the synod, accusing our church body of being “institutionally racist.”  And I have also learned that I have been called “racist” by name. 

Again, the term is becoming meaningless.  It has almost been so watered down as to be an adult version of the childhood playground taunt: “poopyhead.”  And yet, the word remains a cudgel that can ruin someone’s life – especially in our “cancel culture” world. 

Applying the actual meaning of the word “racist,” it is as an odd charge to make about me – especially by people whom I have never met.  I was not raised to hate people based on skin tone or ethnicity.  I spent my childhood and some of my teen years talking to people all over the planet via ham radio.  To this day, I have dear friends all around the world, from every continent, of every skin tone, ethnicity, and from diverse religious traditions.  I’m a fan of the international language Esperanto because I enjoy communication and friendships that transcend all such barriers, and believe such contact is godly and edifying to all. 

In my secular, academic, and pastoral careers, I have had colleagues and friends of every ethnicity – many of whom I have been friends with for decades. 

I believe that all people are related to one another, as revealed in the Book of Genesis, and skin tone and differences in appearance of people groups is nothing more than a response to how much sun one receives combined with generational genetic traits. 

If I’m a racist, I’m not a very good one.

As a pastor, I do deal with my parishioners according to their ancestry.  Namely: we are all sinners who inherited our mortal nature from our forebears going back to the Fall.  There is no Jew or Greek, male or female, free or slave, white or black where it comes to sin and grace (Gal 3:28).  We don’t segregate people in our sanctuary by ethnicity, and we all drink the Lord’s blood from the same chalice no matter what color we are.

One of my beloved parishioners is a delightful lady from the Caribbean.  She has been my parishioner now for 16 years.  She knew my son from the time he was born.  And when his body was brought into the church 15 years later, she was the first person there.  She mourned with my wife and me.  Our relationship can only be described as one of deep, abiding Christian love.  I am always happy to see her in the pews, and it is my honor to place the Holy Sacrament upon her tongue with the confession: “The body of Christ,” and to hear her “Amen” spoken with her beautiful island dialect.

Maybe I need to brush up on my racist skills, because I seem to be a failure in that department.

And, of course, in the modern Orwellian context, to deny being a racist is evidence of being a racist.  To be white is to be racist.  To be a Christian, conservative, libertarian, and/or traditionalist is to be a racist.  Having no black friends is evidence of racism.  Having black friends is evidence of racism.  Being race-conscious is evidence of racism.  Being color-blind is evidence of racism. 

Precious few people are willing, like the little boy in the Hans Christian Andersen tale, to point at the naked emperor and state the obvious.

So why is this Twitter-mob calling me racist?  It has nothing to do with race or bigotry.  They don’t even claim as much.  Their beef against me is historiographical.

I’ve been a member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans for about thirty years.  It is a genealogical society.  It is fraternal, benevolent, and non-political.  Our members include men of all ethnicities – including black members.  What binds us together is descent from at least one member of the Confederate States armed forces in the War Between the States.  And as such, we are proud of the service of our great-grandfathers, and we defend their reputation against slander.  As such, I oppose the iconoclastic removal – whether by governments or by mobs – of historical statues, whether of Confederate or Union soldiers, whether of Davis or Lincoln, whether of Lee and Jackson, or Washington, Jefferson, Mark Twain, and Christopher Columbus.

The study of history includes many “schools” or historical interpretations – which change over time, as different fashions of interpretation come and go.  Historians – at least until recently – debated with one another about cause and effect, about the reliability of historical sources, about the complex nature of human motivation, etc.  This study of the study of history itself is known as “historiography.”  And today, just as in ancient times, historians are subject to influence based on money and power and who is in the ruling class, who won the war, who has the favor and the ear of the ruler, and who has the power to make or break one’s career.  Ancient emperors assured that their court historians made them look good – whether by omitting embarrassing events, by playing up victories, by exaggerating, or even by lying.  And political enemies were even written out of historical memory.

Totalitarian regimes today continue this tradition. 

In America and the West, there is more freedom to write, to challenge, and to dissent – although pressures from moneyed institutions who fund academic research, and now, stifling political correctness, conspire to narrow the window of acceptable historical interpretation.  A historian or professor may well have to lie and sweep historical evidence under the rug in order to keep his job.

And so, some people call me a “racist” because of my historiographical interpretation of the war of 1861-1865, and because of my opposition to removing historical monuments of all eras of American history.

In 2017, I stood with peaceful defenders of the historical monuments in New Orleans.  And when violence broke out, as Antifa activists attacked while the police stood down, I came and conducted a Vespers service and prayed for peace. I gathered men and women of every age and racial/ethnic demographic into a circle and led prayers.  I was, of course, called a “racist” for doing so.  I saw no clergy and nobody leading prayers on the other side of the divide.  Rather, I heard threats and taunts and racial epithets against black allies of the monuments. Instead of crosses, I saw hammers and sickles. In spite of the heavy Roman Catholic presence in New Orleans, not one clergyman was there except me.  The Archbishop could have shown up to call for peace, but he was nowhere to be found – even when a monument to the poet-priest Father Abram Ryan was painted with red paint and smeared with human feces.  The Archbishop said nothing other than advocating the monuments’ removal, and all from the safety of his office.  He did nothing to promote peace, probably because his desire to see the monuments removed was served by the violence that his absence promoted.  And this is why the mayor ordered the police to do nothing as the mob attacked. 

I had ancestors on both sides of the War Between the States, and have studied a lot over the years – primary sources and dissenting views that are seldom read in school.  It is my belief that secession was an entirely constitutional remedy for growing federal power, and that taking up arms against an armed foreign invader was an honorable act.  The evidence is overwhelming that the ordinary solder on both sides fought for his country and not for “social justice” issues.  Obviously, in the 19th century, Americans of both regions were “racist” by today’s standards, and slavery was legal and practiced in both the north and the south.  Leaders of both the USA and the CSA included slaveholders, and advocates of slavery, as well as non-slaveholders and opponents of slavery.  Free blacks and slaves alike wore the gray uniform, and some were even under arms.  The much-maligned Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest had dozens of slaves who voluntarily fought under his command to the end of the war.

Our racial history in Louisiana is even more complex, with wealthy black slaveholders and even black officers in the service of the state militia.  Our slaveholding class generally opposed secession and wanted to maintain the status quo.  They were overwhelmingly outvoted in the secession convention.  During the war, invading Union officers were shocked to find that some of our large sugar plantations with hundreds of slaves were owned by free black women.  History often defies facile deductions and summaries that fit on a bumper sticker.

Obviously, people approach history in different ways – whether it is from the perspective of the Federalists vs. the Antifederalists, various arguments about the economic cause of the Great Depression, and trying to figure out the long term effects of World War I on politics, economics, and western culture.  For actual academic work to occur, there must be academic freedom and free debate.  And for a free society to prosper, there must be freedom of speech.

A few years ago, I had a cyber-stalker accuse me of racism.  He harassed me and some of our lay leadership by means of anonymous emails – which we quickly identified by means of the IP address.  He placed the “racist” label on me, not for any negative words or actions against anyone for any reason, but because I am a member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans.  After months of harassment – including being sent several emails of footage of Hitler’s Kristallnacht (when houses of worship were blown up) in the hours leading up to our annual Christmas Eve Midnight Mass – he decided to “dox” me.  He accused me of “racism” to my district president (bishop), our synod president (archbishop), and to my colleagues of an ecclesiastical journal that I write for, and others.  Nobody took the bait.

He then wrote to the general headquarters of the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod – using a form on the website.  He claimed to be me, using my name and email address as the signature line, and then proceeded to tell lies, including that I was a member of the Ku Klux Klan.  In order to try to get me accused of racism, he had to actually engage in deliberate and open falsehood.  Why this didn’t make him check his premises is beyond me.  If you have to lie to cast someone as a racist, maybe that person isn’t a racist. 

At any rate, the church website sent me an automated reply that included “my” email.  The IT Department shared the IP address of the sending computer, and it was indeed my cyber-stalker.  Online impersonation is a crime in the State of Louisiana, and so I went to the police.  My accuser was arrested and spent the night in jail until he could raise bail.  He was charged with two crimes.  We went to court.  He was ordered to undergo three years of counseling, pay fines including my legal fees, and has been ordered to comply with a court order under penalty of being re-charged with the original charges.

And all of this was not because of even the accusation of racial bigotry, but because of my opinions about American history.  That is how cancel culture works.

And so, if anyone could send me screenshots and/or identify my recent accusers on Twitter, I would be grateful.  I will defend my reputation in accordance with the Eighth Commandment.  To attack the pastor’s reputation is to attack the congregation’s reputation – including all of the individual members.  This accusation is also an attack on my Caribbean parishioner.  It is the pastor’s job to defend the flock and to go after the wolves with a stick.  If my accuser is a rostered church worker, such as a pastor, I will seek a meeting with that person’s district president.  If he is a layman, I will contact his or her pastor and will consider legal action.  I have no qualms about wielding the shepherd’s crook.  It’s part of my calling.

Although the word “racism” has essentially lost its meaning, the ability to stir up hatred and even violence against our congregation by its use is a serious matter.  I will come after such a person.

Christians must not tolerate “cancel culture” and its underlying philosophy of Critical Theory (including Critical Race Theory) and Cultural Marxism to take root in the church.  This is a manifestation of the weeds sown by Satan to divide our people and to cripple our ability to cast the seeds of the Gospel (Matt 13:24-43).  It is based on lies, and the father of lies is the same Satan who sews the weeds in our Lord’s parable.  We must insist that words have meaning, or else our ability to even read the Word of God and understand it is in peril.  We must defend those who are falsely accused, even if it draws the accusing finger to point at us too.  In every system in which words lose their meaning and people are dehumanized for holding the “wrong” historiography or political or economic beliefs, we see the hand of the devil and the attempt to silence the Word of God.  Historically, we also see bulldozed churches and innocent people being sent to labor camps or shot.

The time to resist this is now.

Pastors especially must be diligent and go on the attack against any such attempts to introduce chaos and suspicion and the destruction of reputations that are clearly aimed at harming the proclamation of the Gospel and destroying the lives of our brothers and sisters.  As followers of the Word (John 1:1), we have an obligation to hold the users of words to the objective meaning of those words, and to disallow a subjective and deceptive use of language for the purpose of harassment and false accusation. 

As we recite in our catechism concerning the commandment “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor,” we Lutherans know by heart: “We should fear and love God so that we do not tell lies about our neighbor, betray him, slander him, or hurt his reputation, but defend him, speak well of him, and explain everything in the kindest way.”

This is most certainly true.