Tuesday, May 02, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Easter 4

2 May 2023

Text: Luke 9:37-62

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia! 

St. Luke’s narrative takes a turn, as our Lord “set His face to go to Jerusalem.”  Now, everything is moving toward the cross.  And here we see our Lord calling His disciples to their radical vocation and service as Christians. 

Up until now, our Lord’s friction has been with the demons, the Pharisees, the priests, and the scribes.  He has been deferential to His own followers.  But now, as they have been with Him a while, and as they too are marching with Jesus to the cross, to His passion, to their own doubts and fears, in their own blissful ignorance of what is to come, Jesus is becoming more blunt with them, and demanding more of them

When they were unable to exorcise a demon, our Lord says to His disciples: “O faithless and twisted generation, how long am I to be with you and bear with you?  And even as they were “marveling at everything He was doing,” our Lord speaks bluntly to them, “Let these words sink into your ears,” and telling them in plain language what was to come when they got to Jerusalem.  “But they did not understand this saying, and it was concealed from them,” and even as they heard these words – which did not sink in – “they were afraid to ask Him about this saying.”

For they are still caught up in a false narrative of glory instead of about the cross, arguing among themselves about “which of them was the greatest.”  Jesus again demonstrates the radical nature of discipleship by using the example of a child, saying, “He who is least among you all is the one who is great.”  The disciples are also caught up in seeing themselves as a kind of exclusive brand, rather than focusing on Christ and His Word.  A complaint arose because of Christians who were not part of their immediate circle.  “Do not stop him,” says Jesus, “for the one who is not against you is for you.”

In Samaria, James and John want to “tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them,” and Jesus “turned and rebuked them.”  Jesus reveals to them that the call to the Christian life is like no other kind of education or social arrangement or belief system.  With Jesus, it is all or nothing: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” 

Once a person becomes a disciple, once a person has joined Jesus in setting His face toward Jerusalem, toward the cross, toward the tomb, and toward the radical nature of this life – there is no turning back.  This is the meaning of faith.  We commit to clinging to Jesus come what may.  Nothing comes before Christ; nothing is allowed to interfere with our life of discipleship toward Christ.  It is about true belief and the commitment that grows out of it.  And fortunately for us, it is Jesus who does the heavy lifting, who walks the road to Jerusalem and to Calvary.  We are disciples, followers.  We do not have to blaze the trail.  For Jesus is the Way.  Our task is to get out of the way.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen.

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

 

Monday, May 01, 2023

Sermon: Funeral of Patricia Stoltz – 2023

1 May 2023

Text: John 10:10b-15, 27-30 (Job 19:23-27a, 1 Cor 15:51-57)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Dear Robert, Bryan, Lori, and Jason, dear Bessie, Joan, and Beckie, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, and honored guests, Peace be with you.

It was my privilege to serve as Patricia’s pastor for eighteen years.  She received the Lord’s body and blood from me hundreds of times, and thousands of times from the pastors who came before me.  She heard the Good News of Jesus Christ again and again in this very sanctuary.  In fact, she was baptized right here, when this building was new, and right here in this very font, given the new birth by water and the Holy Spirit by Pastor Eugene Schmid, seventy-two years ago.  She took the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist for the first time sixty years ago when she was confirmed, also by Pastor Schmid, with the verse: “But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us all from sin.”  And in the last few days of Pat’s life on this side of glory, I brought her the Good News of Jesus Christ, and His body and blood, as she was unable to come to church any more.

Patricia was prepared and ready to leave this life of sorrow and pain, this vale of tears, to enter eternity victoriously with her Lord, according to His Word and promise. 

For although pastors of Salem brought Word and Sacrament to Patricia over the course of 72 years, her real pastor is Jesus.  For the word “pastor” means “shepherd.”  We pastors are simply servants of Jesus, the Good Shepherd.  For hear these comforting words of our Lord once more, dear friends: “I am the Good Shepherd.” “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.  I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand.”

Jesus has shepherded Patricia to the still waters and green pastures of eternity.  She now waits for the “resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” And when her body is reunited with her spirit on the Last Day, according to the promise of Patricia’s Good Shepherd, her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, she will have a body that is not suffering.  For Patricia heard the Word of God and took Holy Communion in faith, hearing and believing the promise – the promise that she would be shepherded by God Himself.  And so she has been, dear friends!

Many times in this sanctuary, Patricia sang the hymn that we will sing again together today: “I Know That My Redeemer Lives.”  This is a quote from our Old Testament reading from the Book of Job, and this is specifically an Easter hymn: celebrating the bodily resurrection that we Christians confess.  As Job confessed so many thousands of years ago: “I know that My Redeemer lives, and at the last He will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.”

Patricia confesses this promise in heaven, dear friends, as we await our eternal reunion, as we all wait for the resurrection, as Jesus promised.  This faith is why, week after week, year after year, Patricia came to this holy sanctuary with her mother and sat right there in the back, on this side, as permanent a fixture here as the baptismal font where she was born again, hearing this promise again and again, and taking the Lord’s body and blood, even when her aching body could no longer come forward and kneel.  Jesus, her Good Shepherd, fed her where she stood.  And I shepherded her and gave her Jesus according to His command and His mercy, dear friends, even when she was no longer able to return here.

This is how it is that we are saddened to lose Patricia in this life, that we mourn her loss, that we can grieve – as well we should.  But we do not grieve as those who have no hope.  For Patricia heard this promise many times in her 72 years of grace as a baptized child of God, hearing and believing the promise, again and again: “For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.”  And then, dear friends, St. Paul says that we will say defiantly: “‘Death is swallowed up in victory.’ ‘O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?’”  Yes, we feel the sting of death, but Patricia does not.  For God has given her “the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

And just yesterday, we heard a Sunday Gospel reading that Patricia heard many, many times over the years, in which Jesus describes the time between the cross and the resurrection as “a little while.”  Our separation from our loved ones is hard to bear, but it is only a “little while.”  Jesus compares it to when a mother suffers labor pains.  The pain is sharp.  When after the baby is born, the mother is so filled with joy that the pain is soon forgotten.  Patricia is now filled with joy in the presence of her Lord!

This, dear friends, is what we have to look forward to.  For this is a promise of God.  It is Patricia’s faith that she heard, believed, and confessed right here in this sanctuary: week after week, year after year, for seventy-two such years.

For Jesus called Patricia by name at her baptism, as she was cleansed and sanctified in His name.  Jesus fed Patricia heavenly food, even as a Good Shepherd cares for His sheep.  And when her body began to wear out, our Lord did not forsake her, but drew ever closer to her.  For He is Patricia’s Good Shepherd.  He doesn’t cut and run when things get hard, the way that a hired hand would.  Jesus took care of her to the end of her life on this side of glory, even as Robert lovingly took care of Patricia’s every need, shepherding her as a devoted husband.  Jesus is the Good Shepherd.  Patricia knows Him, and He knows her.  She now has that life, and has it abundantly. 

And we pray that our Good Shepherd may do the same for us, so that we can be reunited with Patricia for eternity.  And just as all Christians confess, and as Patricia said many times over the years, confessing Christ’s resurrection and hers:

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen

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

Sunday, April 30, 2023

Sermon: Jubilate (Easter 4) – 2023

30 April 2023

Text: John 16:16-22 (Isa 40:25-31, 1 Pet 2:11-20)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

“A little while” doesn’t always seem like a “little while.”  Jesus used this one Greek word (that we have to translate as two words) to explain the period between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.  But it also applies to other “little whiles” in the Christian life.  Indeed, the language of “a little while” is a call for patience. 

Jesus is preparing the disciples – which includes us – for the “little while” between the cross and the tomb, as well as between the Lord’s victory over sin, death, and the devil, and when we reap the benefit of His victory.  For we too live in that “little while” between cross and resurrection, in which we still suffer the effects of the Fall, and of our own sinful nature.

“Truly, truly, I say to you,” says Jesus, “you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.  You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.”  Jesus compares the “little while” of suffering to a woman in labor – which at the time is almost insufferable.  But once the baby is born, the mother’s attention is no longer on herself and her pain.  She is rejoicing.  And the object of her rejoicing is her beloved.  The object of her attention isn’t her own pain, but rather her “joy” in someone else, that is, the child who “has been born into the world.”

The disciples of Jesus were suffering during and after the passion of Jesus: His shocking arrest, the spectacle of His trials, His scourging, His public humiliation, His seeming defeat by the leaders of Israel, His being crushed by the Emperor of Rome – who claimed the supremacy of being “the son of a god,” His suffering on the cross, His death, His being hastily thrown into a borrowed tomb by order of the governor who had ordered His death, His lack of even a proper burial with the coming Sabbath day – a Sabbath that was not to be celebrated as a rest from the labors of this life, but rather with the intense suffering of it.

This is why Jesus prepared the disciples for this “little while.”  It is the Greek word: “mikron.”  Their suffering, though it seems to be a mega, is really just a micro.  For what is the time between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, dear friends, compared with eternity?

Jesus had told the disciples many times that He would be crucified and die, and that the “little while” would be short, as He would rise on the third day.  And the way they counted days in those days meant the “little while” from Friday night to Saturday night.  The “little while” was just the time from the end of the sixth day to the end of the seventh day.  The “little while” is literally the period from the very end of the work week, to the end of the Sabbath.  It is a New Week, which in this case, is a continuation of the Sabbath – a Sabbath that never ends.  For on the Eighth Day, we work in a different kind of labor.  We work in the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.  We take our eternal Sabbath rest in Him.

This is why we can be patient, dear friends.  We suffer now.  We have literal pain in our bodies as we age, as we suffer sicknesses and the physical effects of the Fall.  We suffer pain in our hearts and souls – the pain of the death of loved ones, the pain of disappointment, the pain of shattered dreams, the pain of the world’s contempt, the pain of regret, the pain of our enemies gloating over us.  St. Peter wrote our epistle lesson while Christians were suffering the pain of persecutions, both from the Jews and from the Romans.  And His advice is to carry on through the pain, unchanged by it, not to lash out with bitterness or to fall into despair.  He tells us to “abstain from the passions of the flesh,” to realize that we are at war.  We are to stoically maintain “conduct” that is “honorable,” for the sake of the kingdom.  Our attention is outward, not upon ourselves, much like the new mother whose gaze is upon her newborn, and not upon her own aches and pains or past agony. 

Even though we suffer at the hands of the emperor – even those phonies who think they are themselves the sons of gods – we can be subject to them “for the Lord’s sake.”  It’s not about us.  It is about the kingdom.  We win not by overthrowing the government, but by subverting it through our endurance.  So we can be subject to the emperors (even the ones who think they are divine) and the governors (even those who wash their hands of the blood of the innocent, and condemn even Jesus to death).  Even in oppression, we “live as people who are free… as servants of God.”  And so, we “honor the emperor,” but we do not fear him.  Rather, we “fear God.”

The early Christians took St. Peter’s words to heart, even submitting to the powers that be – even to the point of their death being entertainment in the arena.  For they knew that their suffering was just for a “little while,” and it was for the sake of the kingdom.  For the spectators had never seen anything like it: men, women, and children looking death in the face, and rejoicing, singing hymns.  It caused many to want what the Christians had.  For the reason the spectators enjoyed these blood-sports was their own suffering – suffering the effects of the Fall.  In time, the empire and future emperors would themselves submit to the true Son of God.

We Christians can endure the suffering of every “little while,” for we know the truth of what is to come: “Have you not known?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable.”

And, dear brothers and sisters, because of this reality of the Lord’s endurance, we can also endure and be patient.  The prophet continues, “He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength…. They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

This is the secret to our patience in the “little while” of suffering, dear friends.  We know how it ends.  We know because it has been revealed to us in the Word of God.  We love God’s Word, because it is Good News.  Although we live under the cross, we also live in Easter.

And at the cross, our Lord used another single Greek word that we translate with several words: “It is finished.”  This was a curious thing to say at the time.  For it is not a surrender.  It is not an acknowledgment of being defeated.  Rather it is a military term of victory.  “Mission accomplished,” says Jesus.  For “He has done it,” as we confess in Psalm 22, the same Psalm that our Lord recited from the cross.

So, dear brothers and sisters, “He has done it.”  “It is finished.”  We live patiently in this “little while” because we live in victory.  We live in, with, and under the cross, because we live eternally in Easter.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen

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

Tuesday, April 25, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Easter 3 and St. Mark

25 April 2023

Text: Luke 7:18-35

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia! 

Today, the church honors St. Mark the Evangelist, whose Gospel is the shortest and most direct.  He was a colleague of St. Peter, and likely compiled a good bit of his narrative from Peter’s recollections of the life and ministry of Jesus.  Tradition says that Mark was the first bishop of Alexandria, Egypt, and was martyred for the faith. 

The word “martyr” is based on the Greek word for “witness.”  And St. Mark was both a witness of some of the events in our Lord’s life, and also in the life of the events of the apostolic church’s growth and confession after our Lord’s ascension. 

For what is central to martyrdom is not the death of the confessor, but rather the life of the one confessed: our Lord Jesus Christ, the crucified one who is risen, indeed.  And in this sense, all of the Old Testament is a martyrdom to Jesus – of those to whom God revealed the Gospel of the coming of His Son to redeem the world.  And the last of the Old Testament prophets – “and more than a prophet” – is found in the New Testament: St. John the Baptist.  John asks for testimony about Jesus, and our Lord doesn’t have to give it Himself.  He points the followers of John to look at what they “have seen and heard,” namely the blind seeing, the lame walking, lepers cleansed, the deaf hearing, the dead raised, and those suffering the poverty of being trapped in the effects of the Fall hearing the Good News, the Gospel, of Jesus Christ.

For John’s followers are seeing the witness of the Old Testament prophecies become reality in Jesus, in the one to whom John the Baptist points, the one whom Mark writes under the Spirit’s inspiration.

And John also came to bear witness to us the connection between discipleship and baptism.  And for this witness of baptizing and preaching Jesus, St. John the Baptist would become a martyr, a witness, unto his own death – even he, none of whom is greater than he, and yet of whom the least of the kingdom is indeed greater than he.  For our greatness is not of ourselves, but of Christ – the one John preached and of whom Mark wrote.  Those who believed – even notorious sinners, “declared God just, having been baptized by John,” while the “Pharisees and the lawyers rejected the purpose of God for themselves, not having been baptized by him.”

The church joins John in preaching Christ and baptizing in His name, and the church joins St. Mark in bearing witness to the Good News inspired by the Holy Spirit.  

For Mark, O Lord, we praise You,
The weak by grace made strong,
Whose labors and whose Gospel
Enrich our triumph song.
May we, in all our weakness,
Reflect Your servant life
And follow in Your footsteps,
Enduring cross and strife. (LSB 518:15)

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen.

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

Sunday, April 23, 2023

Sermon: Misericordias Domini (Easter 3) – 2023

23 April 2023

Text: John 10:11-16 (Ezek 34:11-16, 1 Pet 2:21-25)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In our Old Testament reading, the priest and prophet Ezekiel reports God’s own words: “I Myself will search for My sheep and seek them out.”  Ezekiel is preaching to the people of Israel who have just lost everything.  They were conquered by Babylon.  Their temple was destroyed.  They were brought to a foreign land and enslaved. 

In other words, God is promising to turn the redemption of sin and the restoration of His people into a “do it Himself project.”  If you flip back a few verses, you will see God condemning the false “shepherds of Israel,” saying that they “have been feeding [them]selves.  Should not shepherds feed the sheep?  You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep.”

In this context, these shepherds were the political leaders of Israel.  They were supposed to take care of the people, not fleece them and take their food.  The Shepherd in the Old Testament is usually a symbol of the kings.  For they keep the nation together like a flock.  They fight the enemies.  They make sure the people have access to food and water.  But it is also interesting to note that the word “pastor” also means “shepherd.”  We have leaders in the political world, and leaders in the church.  God calls men to serve in both realms, and they should look after their flocks, not abuse their flocks for the sake of their own bellies.

So God says, “I will come down and do it Myself.”

Those who know the Bible, both the people who heard Jesus when He first said these words recorded in our Gospel, and people who hear Him today, that Jesus is the fulfillment of God coming down and shepherding His people Himself.

And just in case you missed it, Jesus says: “I am the good shepherd.”  “I am” is the sacred name of God.  To call Jesus our Good Shepherd doesn’t mean that He is nice.  It means that He is a good King, a good Pastor.  He leads us, and we submit to Him.  He is God in the flesh, and unlike the bad leaders of church and state that we have seen throughout history, Jesus will not devour us.  Instead of sacrificing the people for His own comfort, He sacrifices Himself for our comfort.  “The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”  This is the opposite of Israel’s bad shepherds.  This is the opposite of false prophets and ungodly pastors – who don’t care about the sheep.

This is where Jesus points out the difference between the “hired hand” vs. the true shepherd, the one who cares for his own sheep.  When trouble comes, as in the case of a wolf, a predator, one who wants to devour the sheep, the hired hand will simply run away.  He has no skin in the game.  He is only there because it is a job.  He is a president or a senator or a mayor who is just there to collect a check.  He will be out of office soon, and can live the good life.  The sheep will be someone else’s problem.

The hired hand only became a pastor because he figured this job would be easy – one day of work a week, not digging ditches, not really having to care about his flock.  And if he plays his cards right, he can get a call to a rich church, or become a well-paid bureaucrat.  And then he can retire in style and lead tours of the Holy Land. 

Jesus is our Shepherd.  Unlike our politicians, He is our good King.  Unlike our ambitious pastors and TV preachers who pressure you to send them money, Jesus fights the devil for us.  Jesus is our King – whether we live in a republic or a totalitarian state.  His kingdom is not of this world, because His kingdom is a better world.  And we are all His subjects, members of His flock.  He calls us to Himself, because, as our Good Shepherd says, “I know My own and My own know Me.” 

 

And St. Peter reveals a bit more about what it means that Jesus is our Good Shepherd.  In our Epistle, which is Peter’s first letter, the apostle writes, “You were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”  In the Latin language that our churches used for a thousand years, people heard Peter’s words as they were intended: “You have now returned to the Pastor and Bishop of your souls.” 

We all know that Jesus is Prophet, Priest, and King.  He is the Lamb, the Sacrifice.  He is God in the flesh.  He is our Lord, Savior, and Redeemer.  But He is also our Pastor and our Bishop, dear friends.  For just as we have earthly fathers, and yet we have God as our heavenly Father, and just as we might have an earthly king, but Jesus is our heavenly King, we also have pastors and bishops, but Jesus is our heavenly Pastor and Bishop.

Earthly fathers serve as representatives of their heavenly Father.  Kings of this world serve by the authority of the King whose kingdom is not of this world.  Our pastors and bishops shepherd us here in the church on earth, serving as servants of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, the “Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”

Jesus is not a hireling.  He is not afraid to lead us in battle.  Jesus doesn’t send us to fight while He stays in the palace feasting and enjoying Himself.  Jesus leads from the front.  This is why St. Peter calls us to “follow in His steps.”  We follow Jesus, walk where He walks (that is, to the cross), fight whom He fights (namely the devil, the world, and our sinful nature), love whom He loves (our brothers and sisters in the church), and we carry out the work that He calls us to do (whether preachers, hearers, fathers, mothers, children, leaders, citizens, and all other callings), always following, always being gathered by our Good Shepherd, whom we know to be our true King and Priest.

For “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.  By His wounds you have been healed.”  And this is exactly what God meant when He said, “I Myself will search for My sheep and seek them out.”  Jesus sought us out at the cross, and He finds us, because He knows us by name.  He delivers us from our slavery to sin and from our exile in the foreign land that is this world.  He will never flee from you, dear brothers and sisters.  He will never allow the wolf to devour you.  He will stand and fight for you.  He is our Good Shepherd, the “Shepherd and Overseer” of our souls.  He is our God who has come down and done it Himself.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen 

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

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

Sermon: Wednesday of Quasimodo Geniti (Easter 2) – 2023

19 April 2023

Text: Ezek 37:1-14 (John 20:19-31)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

We have all had the heartache of having to look at a loved one lifeless in a casket.  And the longer we live, the more often we experience this.  Sometimes, it is an elderly person, and it isn’t such a surprise.  Sometimes it is someone who had suffered for a long time, and we knew it was coming.  Sometimes it is a young person who has died tragically and unexpectantly.  Sometimes it is a child who is stillborn, or a little one in the womb who was never born. 

And each death is an occasion for sorrow and loss.  Each death causes us to mourn, and our lives are changed.  Each death is a reminder of our own mortality, of the world’s brokenness.  Each death is a reminder of why we need Jesus.

For as we Christians all over the world say in the Easter season: “Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!”

For Jesus is the cure to death.  He destroyed death by dying.  And every time a person who is baptized and believes dies, we all have the assurance of that person’s resurrection for the sake of Christ.

The prophet Ezekiel, some 600 years before our Lord Jesus walked out of His own tomb, “the first-fruits of them that sleep,” saw a vision that was recorded in Scripture to teach us about death, about Jesus, and about the resurrection.

For we know where death came from, dear friends.  It is not part of God’s creation, not His will, and it is not a natural part of life.  It is the wages of sin.  It is a consequence of our disobedience.  It is our bitter enemy.  It came into being at the Garden of Eden, after the fall, when Adam and Eve began to age, fulfilling the consequence that had been pronounced by God: “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Ezekiel saw a vision.  God took him to a valley.  “It was full of bones.”  The bones were disjointed and strewn about.  They had no skin, no flesh, and no sinews.  And “there was no breath in them.”  There was no breath in them, dear friends, because there was no spirit in them.  There was no life in them.  And this is indeed the fate of every man, woman, and child, every king and every beggar, every saint and every criminal; everyone, great and small is represented in this boneyard that Ezekiel saw.

And without Jesus, the bones would simply continue to decay, becoming ground to dust over the centuries, and eventually blowing away to nothing.  As said by a musician who became a Christian after penning these words: “All we are is dust in the wind.  Everything is dust in the wind.”

But Ezekiel sees a different kind of wind, dear friends.  In fact, he hears the wind.  “Faith comes by hearing,” says St. Paul. 

God tells Ezekiel to preach to these bones.  Ezekiel’s breath, formed into the “Word of the Lord” comes into contact with these lifeless, dry bones.  The Word of God is a promise, and Ezekiel preaches this Word: “O dry bones, hear the Word of the Lord.  Thus says the Lord God…. I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live.  And I will lay sinews upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am the Lord.”

Most of the time, dear friends, when we hear the Word of the Lord and its preaching, we do not actually hear the Spirit at work, but He is there.  And He is here.  But Ezekiel was permitted to hear and see – as was St. Thomas, when the risen Lord Jesus came to Him visibly and tangibly, restoring his faith.  “And as I prophesied,” Ezekiel says, “there was a sound, and behold, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone.”

The chaos of bones strewn about became order, as they lined up and were reassembled by God.  And then appeared sinews, flesh, and skin.  And last of all, God breathed into them through the preaching of Ezekiel, “and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.”

This, dear brothers and sisters, is what Jesus does.  His death cancels the curse, pays the debt, and restores paradise.  He reverses death itself.  And what looks to us so permanent, and makes us feel so helpless, is only a temporary annoyance.  For God’s question: “Can these bones live?” is only rhetorical.  For we know the answer.  “O Lord God, You know!”  The answer, dear friends, is Jesus!

For “Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!”

Jesus raised the 12-year old daughter of the synagogue ruler.  Jesus raised the only son of the widow.  Jesus raised His friend Lazarus.  And Jesus rose from death Himself, so that these bones may indeed live, O son of man.

He gives us the Holy Spirit at our baptism, at Holy Communion, at the absolution of our sins, and at the preaching of the Gospel.  The Spirit is the breath that breathes life into our dry bones that suffer the effects of sin, and mourn in this fallen world. 

God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the living as well as to these dry bones that have come to life.  For the Word of the Lord prophesies to us and to our own loved ones who sleep in the casket: “Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will open your graves and raise you from your graves.”

Indeed, we have all had the heartache of having to look at a loved one lifeless in a casket.  But what a blessing the preaching of this mighty Word is, dear friends!  For its promise is for us, for all who believe and who are baptized, for all who hear this powerful Word of the Lord – the Word that is Spirit, the Word that is life, the Word that will fill our once-dead lungs with breath, and clothe our once-dry bones with flesh and blood.

“And you shall know,” dear friends, you shall know “that I am the Lord, when,” when, dear brothers and sisters, when “I open your graves, and raise your from your graves, O My people.”  For “I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the Lord.”

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen

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

Tuesday, April 18, 2023

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Easter 2

18 April 2023

Text: Luke 4:31-44

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia! 

Our Lord has just announced that He is the Messiah in His hometown of Nazareth, and the crowd wanted to kill Him.  “And He went down to Capernaum…. Teaching them on the Sabbath.”  He is preaching in the synagogue, but not like any other rabbi that the people have ever heard before, or since.  They were “astonished at His teaching, for His word possessed authority.”

The source of this authority is not what He knows, His academic credentials, or even His skill in rhetoric.  He speaks with authority because He is God.  Luke uses a specific Greek word here for Word that carries a lot of freight: Logos.  There is something of transcendence being conveyed here – especially considering that Jews in this region mainly spoke Greek instead of Hebrew or Aramaic.  The term “Logos” is much more than a reference to His cleverness with language and logic.

For as the Holy Spirit will reveal through John, Jesus is “the Word,” (John 1:1) that is, the Logos.  This is why St. John’s Gospel – and our Nicene Creed – confess that “by [Him] all things were made.”  This is because Jesus, the Word, the Logos – was both with God “in the beginning” and indeed “was God.” 

And not only does Jesus preach with the authority of the same Word that created the universe, His authority is over all creation – even the demons that vex the people of this fallen world.  The evil spirits are helpless to resist the will of Jesus, the Word Made Flesh (John 1:14).  One demon says: “Have You come to destroy us?  I know who You are – the Holy One of God.”  Most of the people do not yet possess this knowledge, but the demons, that possess and infect the world that Jesus created, certainly do.  And Jesus casts them out – also by means of His Word, His command. 

And what’s more, the Word of Jesus has dominion over even diseases.  The disciples see this as Jesus cures the mother-in-law of Peter of her fever.  And of course, word about the Word gets out, and even after sunset, multitudes of sick and diseased people were brought to Jesus.  He “healed them” by the power of His Word – but His Word was attached to a physical element: that is, His flesh.  For Jesus is the Word, but He is also the Word Made Flesh.  And He cures us of our sinful, sick, and dying flesh – our flesh that is under the assault of the demons. 

Jesus departs from the region, emphasizing His own incarnate Ministry of the Word: “I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns as well; for I was sent for this purpose.”  And He was indeed sent to us, dear friends – and He is here with us in His Word, and in His Word attached to physical elements – driving out our demons, curing our infirmities, and raising us from death itself!

Thanks be to God for His purpose of preaching – manifesting the “good news of the kingdom of God” in the form of casting out demons and healing the sick.  For He is the eternal Word, the Word Made Flesh, the Word that is still preaching and healing – the Word who endures forever (1 Pet 1:25).  And so shall we.  For…

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen.

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

Sunday, April 16, 2023

Sermon: Quasimodo Geniti (Easter 2) and Baptism of Timothy Hart – 2023

16 April 2023

Text: John 20:19-31 (Ezek 37:1-14, 1 John 5:4-10)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

The unbelieving world, and even some Christians, mock what just happened here.  For Timothy Hart was baptized.  And according to Scripture, he was born again “by water and the Spirit,” by the “washing of regeneration.”  He became a believer in our Lord Jesus Christ unto salvation. 

Scoffers will say that Timothy cannot be a believer, because he lacks the rational capacity for belief.  But Jesus says: “Let the little children come to Me,” and refers to the “little ones who believe in Me.”  Not one person objected to our Lord’s assertion that infants and toddlers can believe.  That’s because we hear the word “believe” differently today.  For we live in a day of rationalism.  Our godless culture has put reason on a throne, if not on an altar. 

But belief, that is, faith, as it is used in Scripture, is more like the word “trust.”  And to trust is to become like a child – which is just how our Lord tells us to be as Christians.  To the world, being believing and trusting is childish, not childlike.  But this is how Jesus says that we inherit the kingdom, dear friends.  You must “turn and become like children.”  Childlike, just like Timothy.  He cannot recite the creed yet.  Not yet.  But he knows how to trust.  He trusts his mother, as all newborns do.  And that, dear friends, is how we receive God’s grace.  That is true faith.  It is childlike. 

If you want to see how logic and reason do affect faith, we can look no further than to St. Thomas.  For our sake, Scripture records Thomas’s struggles.  His faith is weak, because his reason is taxed.  It is simply outside of our normal experience to deal with someone who has risen from the dead.  And so, with reason in the way, St. Thomas stumbles in his faith.  For Christ is risen!  This is Good News!  He heard the report directly from the other apostles, who gave their word.  But Thomas didn’t believe the word of the apostles.  He had heard the word of the Marys who had come from the tomb.  But in fairness, all the disciples at first did not believe them.  Finally, Thomas had heard the Lord Himself say repeatedly that He would die on a cross and rise again.  But Thomas would not believe the Word of Jesus either.  So much for faith and reason.

Instead, in the face of the Good News, that first Easter Sunday evening, Thomas boldly declared: “Unless I see in His hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into His side, I will never believe.”  Thomas would not trust the Word, but wanted to see and touch.  And God, in His mercy, gave Thomas something tangible to join the Word to.  Jesus appeared visibly in His flesh the very next Sunday, saying, “Peace be with you.”  And going to Thomas, He said, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.”  And seeing Jesus, and touching His flesh, Thomas believed: “My Lord and my God!”

And while we don’t see the Lord the way He appeared to Thomas, the Lord is nevertheless merciful to us, giving us something tangible to join the Word to. 

In the first place, God joined His Word – and even His sacred Triune name – to the water that drowned Timothy’s old Adam, crucifying him with Christ, and promising to raise Timothy “in a resurrection like His.”  You saw it, dear friends.  You saw the water applied to Timothy.  You heard the splash.  You heard the words spoken.  Timothy also saw, heard, and felt his baptism.  He will remember it by the witness of his family.  He will make the sign of the cross in remembrance.  We made a disciple of Timothy today, just as the risen Lord was soon to command Thomas and all of the apostles to “go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them…” 

And Timothy’s reason is no impediment to his faith, the way that it was for Thomas.  For as often as not, our fallen reason gets in the way.  This is why our Lord said that we must receive the kingdom “as little children.”

Another example of the mystery of faith is in our Old Testament passage from Ezekiel, in which the prophet sees a field of bones.  “Can these bones live?” asks God.  God commands Ezekiel to preach to the bones, and the bones come alive.  They rise by the Word.  Ezekiel sees it.  He hears it.  And certainly, the bones did nothing to be given new life.  It was a free gift.

“And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live.”  The Word has just done this to Timothy, raising the bones of his old Adam and breathing the new life of the Spirit into him.  And he now bears the promise, in his spirit and in his flesh, of “the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.”

Dear Ben and Anna, dear Colin and Paige – and the rest of you dear Hart family members – there aren’t any instructions that I can give you regarding the raising of Timothy in the Christian faith that you don’t already know.  This is becoming a delightful habit, this baptizing of Hart children.  And it is terrible to the devil.  The seed of faith has been planted in Timothy, and you will nurture his faith, until, God willing, it yields a hundredfold.  You know the power of the Word, the blessed mercy of the sacraments, and the efficacy of prayer.  Your love will draw Timothy ever closer to his Savior, to whom we all look, and confess with St. Thomas: “My Lord and my God.”

And we join St. John the Evangelist in confessing, in his first epistle, that “For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.”  Timothy has been born after months of waiting, and he has now been “born of God” in answer to our fervent prayers.  Timothy “overcomes the world” and shares in “our faith.”  For as John confesses, so do we: “This is He who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not by the water only but by the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the one who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. For there are three that testify: the Spirit and the water and the blood; and these three agree.” 

The water and blood that flowed from our Savior’s side at the cross, points us to this saving baptismal water and to His salutary sacramental body and blood, also given to us.  For Jesus does not leave us in doubt, but joins his Word to visible and tangible elements, and presents them to us, bearing His promise, giving us faith and eternal life as a free gift.

So no matter what scoffers and the devil have to say about it, we believe the Word of God.  We confess with St. Peter, who points us to the salvation of Noah and his family, safe in the ark, being saved from sin, and from the world’s corruption, by means of water, in saying, “Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you.”

Our sinful flesh, our Old Adam, and our Old Thomas, finds this offer too good to be true.  Our sinful self wants to take credit for making some kind of rational decision that we can pat ourselves on the back for.  But our New Man, our New Timothy, receives this gift, childlike, in faith, without earning it or reasoning our way into it.  And our New Timothy does not doubt.  The regenerated man does not disbelieve, but believes.  He confesses: “My Lord and my God!”  So let the world scoff and the demons howl.  There’s more where that came from!  Timothy has been redeemed.  His dry bones will live.  And we rejoice in our risen Savior.  For Timothy Michael Hart was baptized.  He became a believer in our Lord Jesus Christ unto salvation.  And in his newly-gifted faith, he joins us in joyfully and defiantly confessing:

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Amen

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