Tuesday, September 26, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Sep 26, 2023

26 Sep 2023

Text: Matt 4:1-11

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Immediately after His baptism, our Lord was “tempted by the devil.”  This should not surprise us, dear friends.  We see the same pattern in our Christian life.  The devil is not too concerned about unbelievers.  They are already his.  But when a person has been claimed by God, having been washed from his sins, marked by the cross, and named as God’s own child by the invocation of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, when one has become a disciple according to Jesus’ own invitation and command to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them,” he becomes a target of the devil.

Of course, Jesus did not change at His baptism.  He was always perfect.  He remains both God and man.  Jesus was targeted by the devil from the first day of Satan’s rebellion.  The devil tried in vain to murder our Lord, even as a child.  But His baptism was a formal and public declaration of war upon Satan and his fallen angels.  For Jesus began His public ministry with His baptism.  He demonstrated the power of Holy Baptism by revealing for us the supernatural action of the Trinity, water, and the Word.  And at the end of His earthly ministry, He unleashed the mighty power of baptism upon the entire world, handing over this weapon of mass destruction to His apostles, and to the church that follows in their train.

What else can Satan do but counterattack, dear friends? 

There are many paradoxes in the life of Jesus: the God who is a man, the man who is God, the man who has existed eternally, the God who was born of a virgin, the God who suffers pain and temptation, the man who triumphs over death and the lure of the devil.  When Satan attacks the man, He finds that His target is God.  When Satan attacks God, He finds that His target is a man: a man who gives His own divinity to other men by the supernatural means of Word and Sacrament.  When we are baptized, we are given the divine quality of righteousness as a gift.  And just as Jesus was attacked, dear friends, so are we.

Like a martial arts instructor, Jesus demonstrates the very real techniques for defeating an attack of the devil.  He doesn’t merely explain the theory behind spiritual warfare.  Rather, He goes to the mat and repels the diabolical attack of temptation – a reality faced by all mankind, but especially the baptized.  Jesus demonstrates the technique three times – and each time, the devil offers Jesus what he believes Jesus would want the most in His condition: food in His hunger (trusting things rather than God), command over the heavens (testing God’s promise), and kingly power (grounded in the devil’s rebellion instead of God’s faithfulness).  And in each of these brutal attacks, our Lord fights back with the Word of God.

Think about what is happening here, dear friends.  The Word Made Flesh speaks aloud the written Word of God to rebuke the chief of demons.  Jesus, the perfect man, teaches us poor miserable sinners how to resist the crafts and assaults of the devil.  The secret is the Word of God.  Satan cannot abide it.  The Word has been weaponized: the incarnation of the Son and the inscripturation of God’s Word in a form that we can read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest, but also speak it, confess it, repeat it, and hurl it as a weapon against the forces of darkness, against temptation, against the old evil foe who would drag us down to hell with himself and his demons.

Let us heed not only the words of our Lord, but let us use the Word in our own hand-to-hand combat with Satan.  Let the baptized be weaponized.  “For it is written.”

Amen.

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

Sunday, September 24, 2023

Sermon: St. Michael and All Angels (observed) – 2023

24 Sep 2023

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

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Today the church honors not only St. Michael the Archangel, but all angels whom God has created, who minister to us, who watch over us and all of God’s children, and who serve God alongside of us – though we cannot see them.

Angels are spirits.  They don’t have flesh and blood, though God permits them to appear in visible form as He wills.  Angels don’t reproduce.  People don’t become angels when they die.  The word “angel” literally means “messenger,” and it is related to the word “Gospel,” which means “Good News,” or a “Good Message.”  Sometimes the angels deliver messages from God in heaven to us here in space and time.  We know the name of the archangel Gabriel, as he delivered the message to the Blessed Virgin Mary that she was to be the mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, as well as appearing to Zechariah and making the announcement that his wife Elizabeth would become the mother of John the Baptist.

We know from the Scriptures that angels ministered to Jesus in His own temptation and suffering.  Had Jesus ordered them to, they would have stopped His crucifixion and wiped out all of the enemies of Jesus.  They provide supernatural aid when we are in trouble – though we almost never see them or know that they did anything to help us.  They defend us from the devil and his fallen angels.  They receive us into eternity after we die.  And we know they are assigned to children to guard them, as our Lord says: “See that you do not despise one of these little ones.  For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.”

So it is important that we understand and acknowledge the reality of angels and their work in the kingdom of God – ministering both to God and to all of us.  It’s also important that we don’t believe the myths and pop-culture distortions about angels.  It is unfortunate that they are sometimes depicted in art as little babies or delicate women.  For their reality is quite different.  They are fierce.  They are an army.  They are warriors.

St. Michael the Archangel, is mentioned in the Book of Daniel, the end-times “great prince who has charge of your people,” and that he will deliver the people of God in a “time of trouble” on the Last Day: when “many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting death.” 

The Book of Revelation gives us some more detail about this work of Michael, telling about a time in the ancient past when the “great dragon,” the “ancient serpent,” the devil, Satan, “the deceiver of the whole world” was expelled from heaven along with his own army of rebellious angels.  Michael was leading this great war with the angels under his command, “fighting back against the dragon.” 

This war was not finally won until the crucifixion of Jesus.  Michael and his angels conquered Satan and his demons “by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony,” that is, the testimony of the preaching of God’s Word by martyrs who shed their blood preaching and confessing the Good News.  And now, we live in the end times of this war, as St. John proclaimed: “Woe to you, O earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows that his time is short.”

But, dear friends, we Christians, even though we are attacked by the devil, should not cower in fear.  For we are indeed covered by the blood of the Lamb.  And Jesus Himself commands armies of angels to defend us – even protecting us as little children.  Angels are a big part of our own spiritual warfare, when we are fighting against temptation, against unbelief, against the devil and his angels who hate us and wish us harm.

And this is why our Lord warns us about being arrogant.  When the disciples asked Jesus, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” our Lord’s answer was not what they expected.  They were hoping that Jesus would tell them who his favorite disciple was.  They were seeking glory in the way of the world.  They were being vain and foolish – and so do we, dear friends.  This call to repent is for us too.  Jesus tells them that in the kingdom, being great means becoming like children.  “Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” 

And so we have a duty to take care of children, to protect them alongside the angels assigned to them.  And the opposite is true: God will severely punish those who harm children: “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.” 

While the world exploits children, uses them as pawns in their perverted lifestyles, and taking advantage of their vulnerability, the church is called to protect and defend them, fighting for them with their angels.  We baptize little children.  We bring them to Jesus.  We pray with them and for them.  We teach them to pray.  We read God’s Word to them.  And when they are prepared, we bring them to the table of the Lord.  Their angels fight alongside of us to defend them against the evil one.

It should surprise no one that in these last days, much of our cultural warfare involves children.  The world wants the right to end their lives in the womb; the church and the angels fight for their right to life.  The world wants to force them into schools that will subject them to harm and teach them lies; the church wants children to be safe and well-educated in schools under the authority of parents and the angels.  The world wants children to be confused about what it means to be male and female, and even to perform gruesome procedures on them; the church joins the angels in protecting these little ones from sick and evil people who would harm them in body, mind, and spirit.

The church is up against a powerful enemy, dear friends.  The enemy occupies the high ground.  Satan and his demons control the television, the movie screen, our nation’s schools, our institutions of government, the internet, corporations, the publishing companies, the ad agencies, and even many of the churches.  Our sinful flesh likes it, because we get to participate in evil while lying to ourselves that it is good. 

But we know better.  Think about the children we are called upon to protect: those in our families, those in our congregation, those under our care, those in our neighborhoods, those in our country, and those in the world.  Look at the horrible things children are permitted to see and hear, the way that they are forced to live because of the irresponsibility and disordered values of adults.  It is well-past the time that each and every Christian man and woman makes a solemn promise that he or she will never consent to the world’s war on children.  We will not comply.  We will join forces with Michael and the angels, and we will defend children.  We will fight back.  We will rely on the supernatural help from heaven, from the blood of Christ, from the waters of Holy Baptism, and from the ministry of the angels sent to guard these little ones. 

We will not sit idly by while the dragon seeks to devour them.  We will not simply allow them to be lost.  “For the Son of Man came to save the lost.”  We Christians baptize our children, protect our children, instruct our children, and we commend them to the charge of the holy angels.  This should be our prayer morning and night.  And we should also pray that God would send his holy angel to protect us as well, dear friends.  For part of turning and becoming children is the humility to accept that we need divine help.

Dr. Luther gave us two short prayers to pray, one in the morning when we wake up, and one in the evening when we go to sleep.  Both of these prayers have the same ending – and the ending of these prayers is something that we should repeat often during the day, as we fight against the devil, the world, and our sinful flesh, as we make war against those who would attack the children of God: “Let your holy angel be with me that the evil foe have no power over me.”

Amen.

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

Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Sep 19, 2023

19 Sep 2023

Text: 1 Tim 2:1-15

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

St. Paul urges that we pray for “all people,” but especially “for kings and all who are in high positions.”  Some people interpret this to mean that we should always support the government – even when they are wicked or acting illegally.  St. Paul himself would be executed by Caesar just a few years after writing this letter to St. Timothy.  So would St. Peter.  And for nearly three hundred years, Christians would suffer periods of persecution under various emperors of Rome. And yet we are to pray for them.

Certainly, this is a continuation of our Lord’s instruction that we pray for our enemies, and even love them (Matt 5:44).  We love our enemies by seeking their repentance, not by joining in their wickedness, not by taking part in their crimes, not by supporting them in their governance.  For “God our Savior… desires all people to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.”  St. Paul understands this better than anyone, as he was a person of authority who was persecuting Christians.  He came to the knowledge of the truth.  He was saved from what he truly deserved for his sins.  Just like the rest of us. Indeed, the apostle points himself out as an example, and adds, “I am telling the truth, I am not lying.”

And so we pray for all authorities, whether they are legitimate or illegitimate, whether they are from our party or the opposition, whether they are Christians or non-Christians – and even if they are tyrants and mass murderers.  We pray for their conversion – for the sake of their own souls, for the sake of the lives that will be saved by their repentance, for the sake of the preaching of the Gospel, and “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life.”

Paul reminds Timothy – and all pastors – as well as all Christians, that the Christian life is radical.  It is a complete reprioritization of what we consider important.  It means that men should pray.  How often do we see husbands and fathers neglecting this duty.  It means that women should be modest in their appearance, not ostentatious or overly concerned about their looks.  It means that women should submit to their husbands at home, and women should not be in positions of authority in church and society, but rather should see their vocation of “childbearing” as holy.

This way of life was radical in the days when Paul wrote to Timothy, in a society in which emperors were literally worshiped as gods, when kings ruled with absolute authority, when soldiers patrolled the streets with almost no control of their brutality, when women were priests, divorce was common, children were legally murdered, men neglected their fatherly responsibilities, and women were obsessed with their appearance as they jockeyed to compete with the men for leadership.

And the Christian life is radical today, dear friends.  In many ways, we are re-living Rome.  And this should not surprise us.  Paul and Timothy lived in the days before Christianity became normal.  We are living in the early days of a post-Christian society.  And so we must double down on our countercultural worship of Jesus as God, on the fact that God is our Savior, that women are saved as they bear children, and men are saved as they pray.  We are not saved by doing these things, but we are saved to do these things.  And as radical Christians, we do love our enemies by praying for them, even when our kings and presidents and elected officials are amoral thugs who happen to work in marble-columned temples. 

Let us pray for them.  Let us pray for their conversion.  Let us pray for life and peace and the freedom to proclaim the Gospel.  Let us pray for ourselves, that we carry out the vocations to which we are called.  And let us pray prayers of thanksgiving to our merciful God whose grace makes the impossible possible.

Amen.

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

Sunday, September 17, 2023

Sermon: Trinity 15 – 2023

17 Sep 2023

Text: Matt 6:24-34

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Today, Jesus talks about anxiety.  This is a huge problem in our society, and even among Christians.  Anxiety causes health problems, robs us of our sleep, messes with our minds, and can lead to a host of other problems.  Anxiety drives people to counselors, who then direct people to doctors, who routinely put people on medication.

But medication only covers up symptoms.  Now, sometimes we need to cover up symptoms.  That’s why we take painkillers for a headache.  But it’s important that we realize that the symptom is not the problem itself.  For notice that when Jesus goes about healing people of sicknesses, He doesn’t just mask their symptoms.  He removes the sickness. 

And here, Jesus is doing something that would be considered very poor practice for a counselor or doctor: He is scolding us for anxiety.  His scolding is gentle, but that is what He is doing.  Jesus is offering us a little bit of tough love here, but at the same time, He doesn’t just tell us to “get over it.”  Jesus diagnoses the problem beyond the symptoms, and Jesus also prescribes the cure.

Our Lord’s preaching about anxiety begins and ends with what the real problem is.  He begins by telling us “No one can serve two masters, for either He will hate one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.  You cannot serve God and money.”  The next word Jesus says, dear friends, is “therefore.”  This means that because we cannot serve two masters, because we cannot serve God and money, Jesus tells us, “do not be anxious.” 

Anxiety is tied to serving the wrong god.  For money is not just the topic of much of our anxiety, our faith in money is what leads to it.  We may have a lot of money, and then worry about not losing it – like the fool in our Lord’s parable about the rich man who builds himself a bigger barn, only to die that night.  Or we may have very little money, and we are anxious about what we will eat or what we will drink or about our body, what we will put on.

Money itself isn’t the problem.  Money is a tool that facilitates trade.  It is our faith in money – whether we are rich or poor or somewhere in the middle – that is the problem.  It is our love of, and our trust in, money, instead of God, that leads to anxiety.  And even if it isn’t specifically money or the love of money that is directly behind our anxiety, it is a disordered faith.   For we cannot have two masters.  To have a God means to “fear, love, and trust” in that God, “above all things.” 

At the end of our Lord’s preaching about anxiety, He says to the anxious one: “O you of little faith.” 

Jesus says this often to His hearers, and even to His twelve disciples.  And even when it seems reasonable to be anxious – like when they were on a boat in the middle of a storm and were about to sink and be killed, and Jesus was sleeping during the whole thing.  And Jesus woke up and scolded them for their “little faith.”  It seems perfectly normal for us to worry in the face of something like being tossed around in a deadly storm at sea, but Jesus gently scolds them for that very thing that seems reasonable to us.

But why does it seem normal to us, dear friends?  Why would it be unthinkable for a therapist or a psychiatrist to scold a patient for anxiety?  Because Jesus gets to the root of the problem: lack of faith in the true God.  Very few modern professionals would ever say such a thing.  And no doctor will get a kickback from a pharmaceutical company if he directs you to Jesus.

Just as a caution: I’m not saying that you should never take medication.  Like I said, sometimes we have to control our symptoms.  But just be aware that treating symptoms is not a cure.  If you want to be cured of your anxiety, Jesus says you need to serve the true God as your Master, and you need faith.

But what is faith?  Faith is believing in the promises of God.  What does God promise us in this Gospel reading?  He promises that we do not need to be anxious because God provides for us.  “Look at the birds of the air,” says Jesus, “they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?”

You are a person that God created to be His image, one for whom Christ died, someone who was baptized into the name of the Holy Trinity.  God put you right where you are, right now, in order for you to hear this Word.  God calls you to receive His body and blood to strengthen your faith.

“And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”  Do worry and anxiety fix anything?  Do they help?  Are you trusting that somehow if you worry that worrying will grant your prayers?  When Jesus puts it that way, it does seem foolish, doesn’t it?

“And why are you anxious about clothing,” asks Jesus. “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow, they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”  And furthermore, dear friends, Jesus is talking about grass.  You are much more important than the lawn that you cut, the clippings that go into the trash.  “Will He not much more cloth you, O you of little faith?”

When we suffer anxiety or worry, what we really need is faith.  But how do we get faith?  We get faith from God’s Word.  We get faith by hearing the Word proclaimed.  You are receiving faith right now.  St. Paul says that “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the Word of Christ.”

If you want faith, you need to hear Jesus.  You need to eat His body and drink His blood: the “medicine of immortality,” the medicine that is a cure and not just a cover for the symptoms.  You need to hear the comforting words of God that tell you that you matter.  You are more important than the birds and the grass.  You are important because Jesus died for you, and He invites you here to hear His Word, and to eat His body and drink His blood.

Jesus doesn’t come to mask your symptoms.  Nor does He come to give you more money so that you can put your trust in wealth as a false God.  You are being thrown about in the storms of life, and it looks like Jesus is asleep and doesn’t care.  But even when Jesus sleeps, He is still God.  And God created you for a purpose.  And that purpose is always good – even when it doesn’t seem like it. 

No matter what, Jesus calls us to “fear, love, and trust in Him above all things,” because He is our God, our Creator, our Redeemer.  He invites you to pray to Him and to ask Him for the things that you need.  He bids you to trust in His mercy, knowing that He is God, that He provides for everything the world needs.  For even when we die, Jesus is still providing for us, giving us the gift of life that never ends.  Our baptism is far more valuable than money, for it buys what money cannot.  For our baptism links us to the cross.  Jesus has purchased you and everything you need for eternal life at the cross. 

So hear the Word of God, dear friends.  Believe it.  Listen to it often.  Keep coming back here to receive the Word that liberates you from false gods and anxiety.  Meditate upon the Word of God in your prayers.  And indeed, pray to the Lord for the things that you need.  He hears your prayers.  He gives you faith as a gift.  And He continues to give you Himself in His body and blood.  He continues to promise to take care of you, and He keeps this promise to do so, even unto eternity.

Amen.

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

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – September 12 - 2023

12 Sep 2023

Text: Phil 4:1-23

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

St. Paul wraps up his very short letter to the Philippians with so much advice and counsel that it is impossible to reflect on all of it in one sermon.  In some ways, it reads like the Book of Proverbs: short bursts of wisdom borne from the Holy Spirit and recorded for us in the timeless form of the Scriptures.

And yet, the apostle’s advice is very practical – even calling out a couple of quarreling church members by name and urging them to “agree in the Lord.”  And really, this “in the Lord” is the theme of all of Paul’s encouragement in this chapter and in this book.  For we live in a fallen world in fallen flesh.  We do have disputes and conflicts, both within the church, and with the outside world.  But Paul urges us to remain “in the Lord,” to ponder the meaning of the Incarnation of Jesus – and not just in a theological sense, but to consider and meditate on what does the coming of God in the flesh mean for me here in the turmoil of this life?

Paul teaches us to “rejoice” – in good times and in bad times, in want and in plenty, whether we are “brought low” or if we “abound.”  In fact, we are to rejoice “always.”  But the only way to do this, dear friends, is to rejoice “in the Lord.”  When we consider that “the Lord is at hand,” this makes our squabbles and complaints, and even our major struggles – fade away.  “The Lord is at hand.”  He has come into our world in the flesh.  He has redeemed us at the cross.  He has destroyed death, the devil, and the powers of hell. And He is “at hand,” He is coming again soon.  And at the same time, He is “at hand” in His Word, and in the Sacrament of the Altar. 

Our very thoughts should also be “in the Lord.”  While the world suffers anxiety and stress and unhappiness and irredeemable conflict, Paul urges us to be content and rejoice “in the Lord.”  The world eases its anxiety by ignoring the cause of it, and masking the symptoms.  But we deal with these matters for what they are: sin.  And we deal with sin “in the Lord,” by the cross.  And so instead of temporary feel-good distractions and escapes from our brokenness, instead of the world’s approach of masking the cause of our sorrows, we can find true peace by pondering only those things that are “true… honorable… just… pure… lovely… commendable… [things of] excellence… worthy of praise.”  St. Paul advises us to “think on these things” – and such thoughts, dear friends, lead to “practice.”  And when we “practice these things,” we have peace instead of anxiety, for we have the promise that “the God of peace will be with you.”  This is what it means to be “in the Lord” as opposed to being in the world.

And as St. Paul promises us by means of the Spirit: “My God will supply every need of yours according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus.”  And, dear friends, “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  

Amen.

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

Sunday, September 10, 2023

Sermon: Trinity 14 – 2023

10 Sep 2023

Text: Luke 17:11-19

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

The account of the Ten Lepers sounds like a parable, but it isn’t.  This was a historic incident that happened in the life of our Lord and His disciples “on the way to Jerusalem,” as our Lord “was passing along between Samaria and Galilee.”  It was an actual happening.  But our Lord uses this incident as if it were a parable: to teach us about the kingdom.

And for us to know about the kingdom, we need to know about the King, as well as about the subjects of the kingdom.  In other words, we need to know Jesus, and we need to know ourselves.

For when Jesus tells parables, it’s very easy for us to identify with the heroes of the story, and not the villains.  We certainly don’t want to see ourselves as the proud Pharisee, but rather as the humble tax collector.  We don’t want to see ourselves as the coward who buried the talent, but rather as the ones who heard their Master say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  We don’t want to see ourselves as the coldhearted priest and Levite who left the crime victim to bleed in the street, who turned and looked the other way pretending not to notice, but rather we would like to identify with the heroic Good Samaritan.

It is our sinful nature to see ourselves as good, and to see others as evil.  Our flesh wants to believe that Jesus tells parables and gives lessons based on what happens in His earthly ministry so as to pat us on the back, while exposing the sins of others.  But this is not why our Lord told parables.  This is not why our Lord comments upon this incident with the ten lepers.  Again, we need to know the King, and we need to know ourselves as His flawed and broken subjects.  For if we were good and righteous, we would not need a Savior any more than these ten lepers needed to be healed of their horrible disease.

And let’s not forget, dear friends, these ten lepers do indeed show that they have faith in Jesus.  They stand “at a distance” as the Law commands.  But they come within earshot of our Lord, and they beg Him: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”  They have faith because they come to Him for help.  They come to Him because they believe He can cure their incurable disease.  And they come to Him praying – just as we do in our Divine Service – “Lord, have mercy upon us.”  They acknowledge His power over leprosy.  And Jesus is not a physician (though St. Luke, the only author who wrote down this account, is a medical doctor).  These men are coming to our Lord not because they think He can cure them with pills and creams and surgery.  They aren’t coming to Him for therapy and the latest medical technology.  Rather, they know that He has divine power.  And they are bold to ask for Him to use it to heal them.  That, dear friends, is faith.

Our Lord’s answer is prompt.  He tells them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.”  For this is what the Law commands if you have certain diseases that separate you from the community, but you have been cured.  You go to the priests to be declared clean, to come back to the community.  St. Luke leaves it to us to imagine the scene: as the ten lepers realize that they have just been healed.

Maybe they reacted with elation and joy.  Maybe they were quiet and stunned, and pinched themselves to see if it were only a dream.  At any rate, Luke tells us that they “went” and they discovered that “they were cleansed.” 

And, of course, we know what happened next.  Nine of the healed lepers went away, absorbed in themselves, but “one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on His face at Jesus’ feet, giving Him thanks.”

Again, this is what happens in the Divine Service.  We are healed from the leprosy of our sins.  We sing.  We praise God.  And even the Lord’s Supper is known by the Greek word “Eucharist,” which means, “thanksgiving.”  We end the service by praying the Psalm: “O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good, and His mercy endureth forever.”  We also sing, “Bless we the Lord, thanks be to God” – right before the Lord gives us His priestly blessing.

The entire Christian life is a life of thanksgiving.  For we don’t get what we deserve, rather we receive gifts – like these ten lepers – from Jesus, our Master, who has mercy on us.

And it is fitting that the grateful leper was a “Samaritan,” a “foreigner,” one who did not belong there.  That is indeed the Christian life.  We don’t belong in God’s kingdom, but Jesus puts us there anyway.  That is what grace is, and that is why we are grateful.

But sometimes we aren’t.  Sometimes we are ingrates.  Sometimes we take the Lord’s grace for granted.  Sometimes we think God owes us something.  Sometimes we think we are entitled to more than someone else.  Sometimes we, like the nine, take God’s mercy and run, not thinking to come back and say “thank you,” to praise our Master for His mercy.

But, dear friends, let us not forget, Jesus even healed the ungrateful.  Jesus died for the sins of the world.  But let us also not forget that the grateful leper responded with faith.  And St. Paul says that we are saved “through faith.”  Jesus made this very clear as the grateful former leper “fell on his face at Jesus’ feet,” worshiping the God in human form who saved Him.  And Jesus accepts this worship.  But Jesus, the King, also commands this “foreigner” in the eyes of the world, who is a citizen in the kingdom, to “rise and go [his] way.”  Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well.”

So whether we are acting like the nine ungrateful, or like the grateful one, our Lord Jesus has the divine power to save us.  He dies on the cross to redeem us.  He preaches His Word to us through His servants to restore us.  He gives us His sacraments to heal us.  He answers our prayer, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”  He takes us as outcasts and aliens, and He receives us into the kingdom: healed, restored, forgiven, and made heirs of the King by grace.  And as our Priest, He declares us clean and restores us to citizenship in the Kingdom by His grace and by His Word.

Dear friends, let us always be grateful.  For our gratitude is simply the response of faith to our Master’s mercy.  His blood atones for us.  The Holy Spirit dwells in us and drives out our infirmities and imperfections.  And we do indeed run to our great high priest, God in the flesh, who declares us healed and worthy and restores us to the community: the communion of saints, citizens of the kingdom.  And we fall at His feet to give Him worship, thanks, and praise. 

And let us also hear and believe what our Lord says to us today: “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”

Amen.

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

Tuesday, September 05, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Sts. Zechariah and Elizabeth - 2023

5 Sept 2023

Text: Eph 4:25-5:14

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

We begin our school year with a fitting passage from St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, in a way giving us a theme for both this year, and our entire lives as we walk the road of the Christian faith.  As the apostle reminded us just a couple chapters ago, our salvation is “by grace” and “through faith” – but “not as a result of works, so that no one may boast (Eph 2:8-9).  But St. Paul also reminded us in the next verse that “we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (v.10).

And so Paul now shares with us what this looks like in the real world: the real world of first century Ephesian life, and our own real world of twenty-first century school and work and church.  St. Paul teaches us to “put away falsehood” by speaking the truth with our neighbors.  Living this way is an act of rebellion, dear friends.  For we live in an age of the lie.  We are constantly lied to all the time, and the world, the realm of the father of lies, justifies the lie.  The lie is indeed the coin of the realm, but we live in the realm of a different King.  We are those who follow Jesus: the way, the truth, and the life.  So let us resolve to live authentically by a commitment to truthfulness in all that we say and do.

St. Paul urges us to watch our mouths, not to speak like the world: a world obsessed with crudeness and crassness, not immersed in the good, the true, and the beautiful.  We are not of this world (John 18:36), dear friends.  We are rather seeking to show the world a “more excellent way” (1 Cor 12:31), a way of life removed from “bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander.”  Indeed, the Christian life is radical!

Rather we, in our family life, work life, church life, and school life, are called to be kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving of one another, “as God in Christ forgave you.”  We are to “walk in love.”  And again, dear friends, this is radical and unworldly.  It is also a way of life that is both easy and hard.  It is easy, because it is by grace, and because Jesus made our renewed lives possible by His death on the cross, and His resurrection from the dead.  Jesus has done it.  It is His work, not ours.  But at the same time, the Christian life is hard.  For we still live in the flesh, in the world, and the devil still “prowls around” (1 Pet 5:8).  And as sinners who still live in a fallen world in fallen flesh, we do indeed fall and fall again.  But in Christ, we rise and rise again, even as we will rise on the Last Day.

And this makes all the difference, dear friends.  We live in Christ, the Risen One.  And we live in the promise of our own resurrection!  St. Paul quotes what seems to be a hymn of his own day to remind us of this reality of our Christian life of grace: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” 

That is His promise to you, dear friends, as you carry out your holy vocations in this school year, and for the rest of your days on this side of the grave.  So indeed, even in our sinful condition, let us take to heart the apostle’s words that, by grace, we “walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true).”

Amen.

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

Sunday, September 03, 2023

Sermon: St. Gregory the Great and Confirmation of Ethan Ricks – 2023

3 Sep 2023

Text: Luke 4:31-37 (Ps 116:1-9, 1 Thess 5:1-6, 9-11)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

It might seem odd for the Lutheran Church to honor Pope St. Gregory the Great.  But we do.  He lived from 540 to 604 AD.  On September 3, 590, he was consecrated a bishop and served as the bishop of Rome until his death.

Our Lutheran confessions mention him ten times, positively in every case.  He is called both “the Great” and “Pope Gregory” in our Book of Concord, which quotes Gregory when he, as the bishop of Rome, was offered to rule over all the other bishops, and he refused it.

The liturgy that we Lutherans use to this very day is a form of the Mass of St. Gregory – incorporating certain liturgical elements established by Gregory.  The fact that we have English-speaking Christians in the world is thanks to Pope Gregory’s missionary outreach to northern Europe.  We owe Gregory a debt regarding church music (one of our hymns in our hymnal is his), and the term Gregorian Chant is named after him.  And the church preserved much of St. Gregory’s sermons and other writings, including his book Pastoral Care, written in the year 591, that we are still using as a textbook in seminary.  Even our church calendar that we use to this day was standardized by Pope St. Gregory the Great.

But this is what made Gregory truly great: he had a pastoral heart.  He did not seek to rule, but to serve.  Gregory understood that his pastoral and episcopal authority came by means of the Word of God.  And this is why he is associated with the Gospel reading about Jesus teaching on the Sabbath in Galilee – and people were “astonished,” for “His Word possessed authority.”  While the later bishops of Rome who came after St. Gregory governed by force, had worldly wealth and power, saw themselves as lords called to rule, St. Gregory the Great knew that greatness comes by the Word of God, by serving the people of God, by evangelizing, by preaching, by the sacraments, by worshiping in the liturgy, by chanting the Psalms, and by following a pattern of days, weeks, seasons, and the year itself – this is how we live out the Christian life.

And it is fitting that as we reflect on the authority of the Word of God, we think about Jesus, the Word Made Flesh, our Lord preaching the Word of God with authority – authority that made the demons themselves cry out “with a loud voice.”  The Word of God, whether spoken by Jesus, or spoken by Jesus’ men, has the same effect that we see in Luke’s Gospel: the demon saying, “Ha!  What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?  Have you come to destroy us?  I know who you are – the Holy One of God.”

Dear friends, even the demons recognize the Word of God, and know how important that it is.  And it is the Word that puts the devils back on their heels, that repulses and repels Satan himself – as Jesus demonstrated when the devil tempted Him, and three times, our Lord drove Satan away by saying, “It is written.”

St. Gregory was a powerful preacher of the Word of God.  It is the Word that has authority over all things to this very day.

It is also fitting for us here and now, dear friends, to be poking the devil in the eye today, as we admit our brother in Christ Ethan to the Lord’s table for the first time.  This participation in the Word Made Flesh in His true body and blood is also hateful to the demons.  Ethan is joining us in a violent assault on the realm of darkness, eating the body of Christ and drinking His holy blood.  For when we partake of the Sacrament of the Altar, we are truly expelling the devil from our own bodies.  For the demons cannot abide the presence of Christ.

St. Gregory understood this, not because he was a doctor of the church, not because he was the pope, not because he was a bishop, but rather in his calling as a pastor and preacher of the Word.  And just as Gregory made evangelism a priority in his ministry, we need to remember, dear friends, that mission work is not only about sending missionaries to foreign lands.  We still do this kind of mission work, of course.  But just as important is the evangelization of our own people.  We not only make Christians by sending pastors across oceans to preach in foreign tongues, but we also spread the Gospel even more so by faithful parents having children, baptizing them, bringing them to worship, teaching them God’s Word, and grafting them into the life of the church, by bringing them here to receive the body and blood of Jesus. 

What we are doing today is evangelism, dear friends.  And we need more of it.  We need our youth to be well-taught.  We need our young people to pray when they wake up, before they eat, and when the go to sleep.  We need our children and young adults in church.  We need them to read and understand God’s Word.  We need them to marry godly Christians, have children, and raise their own children in this same holy faith, the same faith confessed and taught by Jesus, by the apostles, by St. Gregory, and by our pastors who continue to preach and administer sacraments today.  This is the church’s greatest and most important work of evangelism, dear friends.

The red paraments and vestments in our church today are not on account of St. Gregory.  Rather, we brought out the red today because we are remembering the coming of the Holy Spirit as we bless Ethan, and also calling to mind that we are giving Him the true blood of Christ, shed for Him on the cross, and given to Him in the chalice to drink, for the forgiveness of sins.

Ethan’s confirmation verse is from our Old Testament reading, Psalm 116:5: “Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; our God is merciful.”  Indeed, we know that the Lord almighty, powerful, and beyond understanding.  He is perfect and majestic and frightening to us poor, miserable sinners.  And He is indeed righteous – even as we are not.  But as the Word of God teaches us, as Bishop Gregory faithfully preached, God is also gracious: gracious to His people whom He loves, including Ethan.  And He is merciful, meaning, He displays His mercy, His kindness to us who are baptized and who believe, to those who receive the Sacrament of the Altar in faith.

And this mercy shines through as St. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians to always be ready for the Lord’s coming.  And as “children of light,” we are indeed ready for His coming.  We are prepared by hearing the Word and receiving the Lord’s Supper in this Mass of St. Gregory that we celebrate today.  “For God has not destined us for wrath,” says St. Paul, “but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him.”

So let us rejoice as we look back and remember the source of St. Gregory’s greatness: the Word he preached, and the Sacraments he administered.  The greatness of Gregory is Jesus, who called Gregory as a pastor and teacher and bishop of the church.  Let us rejoice with Ethan and with all the saints with whom we gather around this table, receiving the body and blood of Jesus, rejoicing in the fact that the Word of the Lord defeats the demons and offers mercy to all who call upon His name, all who renounce the devil, and all who confess their faith in the words of the church’s creed.

Thanks be to God, now and even unto eternity.

Amen.

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