Sermon - Mark 1:40-45 - Epiphany 6

Epiphany 6 – February 12^th, 2012

Mark 1:40-45

Clean

Hand sanitizer. One of the accoutrements of modern American life. Some might say it's a convenient way to wash your hands, prevent the spread of disease, and promote health. Others might say it's a sign of our neurotic culture. When kids can get fashionable colored bottles of the stuff to clip on to their school backpacks.

But our culture wants to sanitize more than just hands. We like our food clean and fresh and pure, too, don't we? If you bring home a package from the store and it's already been opened.... what do you do? If that little safety seal or bump on the lid of the spaghetti sauce is up – you're not supposed to use it. We like our cars clean, clothes clean – our dishes clean – our bodies clean. I bet Americans shower and bathe more than most cultures throughout all history.

The people of Jesus' day may not have been as obsessed with clinical sanitization as we are today, but they thought a lot about what was clean and unclean. And if anything was unclean, gross, repulsive to them, it was a leper. They wanted no part of these skin diseases – a very public and outward kind of disease for all to see. So they cast out the lepers, ostracized them, and that was that. Lepers were unclean. And the way they dealt with it was to take out the human trash.

We like to think of ourselves as clean people. But the truth is that we aren't. I won't gross you out this morning, but simply remind you that for all our efforts at sanitizing our lives – we are still subject to all kinds of germs, all manner of impurities, in the air we breath and the food we eat, and even within our very bodies. I'm sure the scientists could paint quite a picture of how unclean life really is, all our illusions aside.

But it's worse than that, for we are unclean at a much deeper level. Our bodies, our minds, our hearts, our very souls are tainted, through and through, with sin. Any outward filth we see pales in comparison to the mucky mess within us. The squalor of filth in which we are conceived, and born, and continue to live. We're far worse than lepers. Especially to God, who really is pure and clean.

So what's a God to do about such uncleanness? What does Jesus do with the leper?

“If you are willing, you can make me clean”

“I am. Be clean.”

What an expression of faith from this man. He knew Jesus well enough (how? By faith!), he knew him well enough to know that Jesus had the power to cleanse. That he had the ability to bring that outward cleansing of body, that healing of disease the man so desperately wanted.

But did he know that Jesus meant so much more, when he said, “be clean”. That the uncleanness of the leper, and the filth of you and I, runs much deeper than the surface. It's not just a skin disease. That's just a symptom. We are rotten to the core. We are thoroughly corrupted. We are the creepy crawlies that should make God turn away in disgust.

Even death itself is a symptom of this infection. Sin is the cause. And the more you look in the mirror of God's law, the closer you study it, the more you will see just how caked on and baked on and stuck on it is.

But Jesus is willing to make us clean. That's why he came. To make it happen. To say, “be clean”, and we are.

We are clean because he not only washes us, but he takes the dirt of sin himself. He bathes in it. Becomes it. He gets his hands dirty in a way we never could, “God made him who was without sin to become sin for us”. Talk about dirty laundry! And the cross is his washing machine.

Jesus was the only one clean, the only one without spot or blemish... But God made him so stinking filthy in the fullness of all our sins, and all sins ever. Then God had to take out the trash. In disgust, he turned his back on his own son, and all sin. “Why have you forsaken me?” “Because you disgust me. You're sin.”

And in doing so, Jesus makes us clean. By his shed blood we are washed. We are more than sanitized. We are holy. Righteous. Shining like justice. And God will never utter a harsh word against us, never turn up his nose at us, but only embrace and welcome us in Christ.

When your sins are forgiven, you are clean. Just like that leper, only better. God sees your sin no more. He declares it gone. And he makes it more than just a word. He makes it particular, to you, in Baptism.

In your baptism Jesus said to you, “Be clean!” Sure he can preach all day about forgiving people's sins, but is he talking about me? When that water is poured on you, when those words are spoken to you, when the pastor calls you by name - Jesus brings it home that you, yes you, are clean. Your sins are forgiven, washed, wiped away. You are clean.

No, you're not a leper. You're much worse. You're a sinner. But the good news is we're sinners who know Jesus. We put our faith and trust in the one who is willing to make us clean. The one who does what it takes to make us clean. The one who says to us, “be clean”. And we are. In his blood. By his sure word. Believe it, for Jesus' sake. Amen.

Sermon - Mark 1:29-39 - Epiphany 5

Epiphany 5 – February 6^th, 2012

Mark 1:29-39

Everyone is Looking for Jesus

“Everyone is looking for you, Jesus”. So Peter said when they found him alone, praying. And how true it was. Jesus had made quite a name for himself in a short period of time. His healing touch, and his authority to cast out demons had caused quite a stir. Everyone seemed to want something from Jesus. Everyone was looking for him.

It's much the same today. Everyone is looking for Jesus. At least, everyone is looking for something, and if Jesus will give it to them, then they want Jesus. Do you want to find a job? Ask Jesus. Do you want your husband to appreciate you more? Ask Jesus. Do you want your aches and pains to go away? Ask Jesus. Do you want to get over the death of your loved one? Ask Jesus.

In Capernaum, if you had a demon, or you were sick, then you were looking for Jesus. But that's not why he came. Sure, he had compassion on so many. Sure, his heart went out to those who suffered. But his purpose was different. He wasn't there to give them what they wanted, as much as to provide for them what they needed.

When Peter and the others find Jesus off alone, praying, he says, “Let's go to the next towns so that I may preach there also, for that is why I came”. Yes. It's the preaching. That's the reason. He went to the synagogue in Capernaum and preached. He would go to the mount and the plain and the villages and towns and preach. Even in the very temple in Jerusalem, he would preach. That's why he came. To give them what they really needed – the word.

It's still the Epiphany season, and we're still answering that big question, “Who is this Jesus who was born as our Savior?” What kind of savior is he? What is he all about? What did he come to do and why? Today it's quite clear: he came to preach.

But what? We must listen closely to his words. We must take note of just what he says, even more so than what he does (although the two go hand in hand). And as we listen to Jesus we will hear the message ring out – that he came to seek and save the lost. That he came to give freely the blessings of his Father. Forgiveness of sins, new and eternal life. To make us his friends, not slaves. To call us to follow him. To defeat the strongman, our enemy the devil. To make us disciples by his baptism and teaching. To feed us in his meal, with his body, his blood. To be handed over to the Jews and Romans, to suffer for us, to die for us, and on the third day to rise from the dead, for us. This is what he preached. This is why he came. To proclaim himself, our savior, and to back up his talk with a perfect walk.

Nowadays people are still looking for Jesus to do all sorts of things for them, but not always what he means to do for them. We think small. We want this or that, not the grand gifts he offers. We want actions, not words. We want to see it now, not have to hold on to promises. We want the glitz and success and fireworks of glory, not the suffering and dying and shame and defeat of Calvary.

Our old nature, anyway, chases after a Jesus that really isn't Jesus. A Jesus of our own imagination, made in our own image. A Jesus at our beck and call for all of life's little problems, to make the boo-boos better.

But much better is the real Jesus. The Jesus who calls us and recreates us into his own image, and gives us new life forever. The Jesus who gives us his word – and what a word it is! That word, that eternal word, which is our rock in the storm, our comfort in sorrow, our fortress in the raging battle. I think of Luther's hymn, “A Mighty Fortress” and the line, “And take they our life, goods, fame, child and wife – let these all be gone, they yet have nothing won, the kingdom ours remaineth”. Yes, we have it all because we have Jesus and his word.

Last week, we included in our prayers a Pastor Jeff Geske, a classmate of mine, who was with his family in a terrible car accident. His wife and two of his three children were killed. A terrible tragedy on so many levels, for him personally, for his son, for his congregation, where he had only begun serving about a month ago. Well on Tuesday, Pastor Geske posted these words of encouragement, and I share them with you now:

“Thank you! I would like to thank everyone for the words and love shown to me during this most difficult time at the death of Laura and Joshua and Joy. I rejoice knowing that they are now in heaven with our Savior Jesus. I miss them so much, but I know that one great and glorious day, they will along with Jesus welcome me home to heaven.

May this difficult time for me remind you and encourage you to continue to express your love to your family. They are so precious and truly a gift from God on loan to us. May God comfort you as He is comforting me. Never forget how much God loves you! John 3:16-17

Take comfort in the five most important words you can ever know which are, "Jesus died for my sins! Jesus loves you and so I ask and encourage you to love others and share His love, forgiveness, and salvation with them. Heaven is our home!”

What a powerful word Jesus preached, that it brings comfort even to this family tragedy. A Savior who came not just to wow us with miracles, or to make our lives free of trouble, but to proclaim an eternal word of forgiveness and salvation. That's the Jesus we know. That's the Jesus we look to, and listen to. That's Pastor Geske's Jesus, and yours, and mine. In His Name, Amen.

Sermon - Epiphany 4 - Deuteronomy 18:15-20

Epiphany 4 – January 29, 2012

Deuteronomy 18:15-20

What Would Moses Do?

Moses says, in his farewell address: “The Lord will raise up a prophet like me from among you”. Well first there's the history.

The 40 years of wandering in the desert was coming to an end. God would lead his people across the Jordan River and into the Promised Land. Moses had been their leader, well, their human leader, all this time. From the Exodus and the Passover, through the parting of the Red Sea to Mt. Sinai and the giving of the 10 commandments, the establishment of the Tabernacle and the whole sacrificial system. Moses was the guy. And now as he approached 120 years old, it was time for the people to enter Canaan. And Moses wouldn't be going with them. It was time for a new leader.

Moses died just across the border. Mount Nebo. He never set foot on the earthly promised land (at least until he met Jesus at the mount of Transfiguration). Instead, it was Joshua, son of Nun, who would take over the mantle. Joshua was a mighty leader, too. He lead the conquest at Jericho and many other Canaanite cities, as the people came into possession of the land. Through Moses, God had done great things. Through Joshua God was about to do great things. So Joshua must have been who Moses meant when he said, “The Lord will raise up a prophet like me from among you”. Right? Not entirely.

Old Testament prophecy can often be seen as having multiple layers of fulfillment. The near fulfillment, the historical thing that happened back then for people to see, and the ultimate fulfillment, which sometimes points even to the last day itself. The promised land, for instance, was promised to Abraham, and delivered to God's people in Joshua. But the true promised land of Heaven is the ultimate fulfillment.

So too with this prophet of whom Moses speaks. Joshua was great and all, but he was still not the imposing figure that Moses was. Moses, after all, met God and lived. Moses saw the plagues and the passover and the parting of the sea. Moses received the Ten Commandments and wrote the Torah! Moses! Who can be as great a prophet as he!? No, Joshua, whose Hebrew name was “Yeshua” stood in the shadow of this giant of faith, Moses. But there would be another Joshua, or Yeshua, or as you know him, “Jesus”.

Jesus Christ is the ultimate fulfillment of Moses' words of prophecy here. But to appreciate it, let's compare the two.

Moses was the great law-giver. He brought the Ten Commandments, the moral code by which God's people were to order their lives.

Jesus was also a law-giver. Not only a law-giver, but certainly he did that. He taught us to love God, and love our neighbor. He showed by example of washing feet how we out to serve one another. How being great in his kingdom meant being the least. In fact, he even expounded and expanded the Law of Moses - “You've heard it said, do not commit adultery, but I say... lust is adultery in your heart! Moses taught you, 'do not murder', but I say that hatred of another is like murder in your heart! Moses let you get a divorce, but that was only because of your hardened hearts. From the beginning, God has joined men and women together in marriage. And what God has joined together, let man not separate!”

The problem for us, is that we break the law of Moses, and we break the law of Jesus. Neither the 10 commandments of Moses, nor any of the commandments of Jesus are attainable for us sinners. So Jesus is a prophet like Moses. But Jesus is even greater.

Moses was a deliverer. Through him, God brought the people of Israel out of slavery in Egypt. He plagued their enemies and rescued them from the angel of Death. He regarded the blood of the lamb, the lamb without blemish, as a sacrifice sufficient to save each household. And then he brought the people through the sea, and drowned Pharaoh's host which pursued them in those same waters. The memory of this salvation established the Israelites as a nation. It gave them their very identity. It made them who they were. Moses led them through all this.

But Jesus is a deliverer to exceed even Moses. Moses was a faint shadow of this true deliverer. Jesus brought us out of the bondage of sin, and into the freedom of the Gospel. Jesus rescues us from death by dying and rising, himself. Jesus is the lamb of God who is slain from the foundation of the world, and who takes away the sin of the world, and has mercy on us. Jesus is the one who delivers us by his gift of Holy Baptism, bringing us safely through the water to new life in him, and drowning our old Adam, our sinful nature, daily, through repentance and faith. Jesus makes us who we are, his people, his church. Built by him and on him and in him, sustained by His Spirit, and promised a future paradise that will never end.

And Jesus is the only law-fulfiller. He does all things well. He perfectly, obediently obeys the will of the Father, and fulfills all righteousness by living entirely without sin. And he does this, not for himself, but for you. To give you the credit for his perfect life. To give you a righteousness only he could earn. His holy life overshadows your mess of sin, just as his perfect death takes you from under the shadow of sin and death.

What would Moses Do? Well, whatever Moses did, Jesus did it better. He is truly the prophet God raised up like Moses, but even better. He is the perfect law giver, and law-fulfiller. He is the one true deliverer of the world, and of you and me individually. He is the one who brought us through the waters, and establishes us in his kingdom forever.

Hail to Jesus Christ, the one with authority, the Holy One of God, the new and greater Moses, the Prophet who speaks God's word, who is the living word, our leader, our champion, our savior. In His Name, Amen.

Sermon - Epiphany 2 - John 1:43-53

Epiphany 2 – January 15, 2012

John 1:43-53

You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet

There is much to learn about Jesus from the calling of Nathanael.

“Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

Nathanael starts his interaction with Jesus with a mild insult. Really. I mean. Phillip, you're telling me that the Messiah is from that back-water town? They're a suburb of nowhere.

But Phillip tells Nathanael to come and see, and for some reason, he does. Skeptical, probably frumping along to humor his friend. Nathanael was expecting another crackpot, some false Messiah like so many that had come before.

“Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Well, the answer to that, theologically, is “no.” Nothing good can come from Nazareth, or from Jerusalem, or Rome. Nothing good can come from New York, or Chicago, or Green Bay, or Racine. Nothing good can come from anywhere, especially from anyone in this sinful, broken, messed up world.

And that means nothing good can come from you or me, either. Out of the heart come our evil thoughts. From our unclean lips come unclean words. And our blood-stained hands can do only the filthy works of sin. We are corrupt through and through. Can anything good come from me? No. For I am just as much a part of this sinful world as the next guy. And so are you.

Can anything good come from Nazareth? No. But Jesus is not from Nazareth.

When Jesus sees Nathanael he rattles his cage of pre-conceived notions. He shows a little of that divine knowledge that only he could have. He saw Nathanael under the fig tree, before Phillip called him. And he returns Nathanael's insult with a compliment, “Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is no deceit!”

What does Jesus mean? That Nathanael is without sin? Surely not. For if we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. Perhaps Jesus is here commending Nathanael for having enough honesty to call a sin a sin where he sees it. For having the guts to ask what good can come from Nazareth, and having the humility to know that the sins of his own past make him no better.

Jesus knows our past, too. He calls us before we know who he is. He saves us before we know we need saving. He knew you before you were born, after all. Yes, he knows your deep, dark secrets. No sin or shame can escape him. But he puts all that away. He chooses to deal with your sins by taking the condemnation you deserve. Jesus knows you better than you even know yourself. He knows who you really are – who he has made you to be in your baptism. He knows the plans he has for you, the place he's preparing for you.

Back to the story. This little bit of a show of omniscience by Jesus leads Nathanael to confess a great truth. To recognize the folly of his insult. “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

Ah, yes, true. We can confess the same with Nathanael. We know who Jesus is. We know, not on our own, but because he tells us and shows us. We know from his word, that he is true God and true man. That he is without sin, yet takes on our sin. That he is our great prophet, our high priest, and our true king. Nathanael would come to learn in more and better and deeper ways just who this Jesus was and what he came to do. Nathanael would come to see even greater things than a prophet from Nazareth.

“You think it's a big deal that I saw you under the fig tree, Nathanael? Well you aint seen nothin' yet!”

And he would. And we do. For Nathanael and for us, the minor miracle was Jesus seeing him under the fig tree. The greater miracle is us seeing Jesus on the tree of the cross.

The cross is that touchstone between heaven and earth. Jesus hangs there, right in the middle, the God-Man, between God and Man. He suffers and dies there to bridge the chasm of sin. To bring God to man and man to God. In Jesus heaven itself is open to us.

Jesus is Jacob's ladder – the stairway to heaven. Only through him does God come to be with us, to cleanse us and call us. Only in him do we have access to the Father and to eternal life.

Only at the tree of the cross can Nathanael and Phillip and all the other apostles and disciples find the true Son of God and King of Israel. Only in his cross can we see Jesus for who he is. He didn't come to do parlor tricks. He didn't come to wow us with miraculous fireworks. He came to die. To conquer death. And to speak good news to us, his people.

And like Nathanael and Phillip, he calls us to follow. To have no deceit about our sins, but to bring them to the tree of the cross. To hear and see him, Jesus, for all that he is and does. And to trust and believe and live in him, forever.

And with Jesus, we can still say, “You aint seen nothin' yet.” Yes, once again, we will see heaven opened, when he comes again in glory. Yet again will Jesus descend, now in glory. That day, that great Epiphany is coming soon. May he keep us faithful, so that at the last we too can stand and confess him, Jesus, the Son of God, and the King of Israel, our savior. In his holy name, Amen.

Jesus the Sponge?

While leading Bible Study at church today I was amazed, as I often am, by the theological acumen of some of our attendees.  We were discussing the readings for the Baptism of Our Lord (Mark 1 in particular), and the idea that in his baptism, Jesus "takes our sins" upon himself.  Almost a sort of "Reverse-Baptism".

One comment from the class, was that it was as if all the people who were baptized there by John had washed their sins into the water, and Jesus comes in, like a sponge, and takes them all to himself.  This, of course, culminates in the cross, where "it is finished".  But you could argue that it begins, in a public way, when he takes our sins upon himself in the Jordan.

Another comment, in a similar vein, was from someone who traveled to Israel with me in 2007.  Of course we saw there the Sea of Galilee, the large freshwater lake that was for many in the land over the years, a very important source of life.  The Jordan river flows from there, and afterward to the Dead Sea.  So the picture was that life comes from the clean water of Baptism, and is washed down and away with death itself.  A very cool observation!

Issues Etc. may have the "smartest listeners in radio", but I may have some of the smartest Bible Class members around!

Sermon - Christmas 1 - Luke 2:22-40

Christmas 1 – January 1^st 2012

Luke 2:22-40

The Firstborn Redeemer

For the world, Christmas is over. For the Church, it's only just begun. We are one week in to our Christmas season, which will follow with Epiphany, and several Sundays after. While the world is on to Valentine's Day, we continue to dwell on Christ, our newborn King.

Today a reading from Luke which tells an episode from Jesus' infancy. 40 days after birth, observant Jews performed the redemption of the firstborn, according to Exodus 13, our Old Testament reading. For every firstborn male a sacrifice was made – to redeem him, to buy him back. This itself was a sign pointing to Christ, the firstborn of Mary and the only-begotten Son of God. The New Adam who came to redeem the Old Adam in all of us.

So Jesus is brought to his, yes, his temple. Like his circumcision and his baptism, Jesus participates in all these rituals – though he has no need to be redeemed from sin himself. Yet he is our priest, our representative to God, and does all this and more in our place. Jesus is redeemed, in this ritual sense, even as he is your redeemer. Mary and Joseph make the ritual sacrifice of two turtledoves, for they couldn't afford the lamb. But the true lamb of sacrifice was the babe in their arms.

There they meet old Simeon, who sings a song, called the “Nunc Dimmitis”, Latin for “Now Dismiss”. Having seen and even held Jesus, the promised savior, his redeemer, he can go – he can die in peace. The glory of the Lord, that is also the glory of Israel – which had departed from the temple long ago – had now returned. The light to the gentiles, the one who brings light to all nations – had dawned upon the earth. “My eyes have seen thy salvation” - Simeon is talking about Jesus Christ!

We sing that song, too. We sing it when we, too, have seen and held the Christ – even more, after we eat his body and drink his blood. We see the salvation of God, the glory of Israel, the light to the nations. And with our sins forgiven, and our souls nourished, we too are at peace. We can now be dismissed. We are ready, even for death, having received Jesus and his gifts.

I can't tell you how many dying Christians I've spoken or sung these words to. For in the word, in our baptism, in the Supper – we see God's salvation and our promised rest. Simeon's song is the song of every Christian, every believer in Christ. We can go in peace.

Simeon and Anna remind me of Adam and Eve. People acquainted with death. Simeon was well up in years, waiting to die. Anna knew the death of her husband at an early age; death had shaped the course of her life. Like Adam and Eve who died the day they ate of the fruit, but whose bodies lived in sin and death for years to come. Simeon and Anna both awaited the fulfillment of the promises to Adam and Eve and all the other men and women of old. That the seed of the woman would crush the serpent's head. Only Simeon and Anna lived to see it unfolding in this infant Christ.

Eve thought her firstborn son, Cain, would be the one. But he, too, became known for bringing only death. It would take another firstborn to do the job. A firstborn of a virgin. Redeemed under the law of Moses at the temple, but redeeming all of Adam and Eve's children from death by his blood.

You and I are people acquainted with death. Our culture tries to make us numb to it, but death is always breathing down our necks. We are fragile. We could all go at any time. You don't have to be old like Simeon and Anna to realize this. You don't have to suffer from aches and pains or debilitating diseases to see death's shadow over life. Change and decay happen in so many ways. Things and people we love go away, deteriorate, yes, even die. Relationships fracture. All good things, they say, must come to an end. So it is in our world of death. Not only life, but everything in it is subject to the wages of sin. Well, almost everything.

Death meets its death in the Babe of Bethlehem. Death meets its death in Christ on the cross. When he says, “it is finished”, he declared the victory. He, the Son of God and Son of Man did exactly what he came to do.

And yes, Jesus died, a sword pierced his soul when he suffered for our sins and gave his life as a ransom for many. He died. But Jesus is also the firstborn... of the dead. He burst from the tomb in a glorious resurrection to never die again. And the firstborn of the dead is no only child. His brothers and sisters will follow, when he calls us forth from death. He does it, already, in our baptism. He'll do it for our bodies as well on the last day.

Simeon can go in peace from the temple, though Adam had to go in bitterness from the garden. An angel barred the way back to the tree, to paradise. But angels announce the restoration of life to us all, “he is risen, he is not here”. And angel trumpets will announce his return in glory on that triumphant day.

We see that in Christ, everything old is made new again. He even says so, in Revelation “Behold, I make all things new”. He renews old Simeon and Anna. He restores paradise. He renews and cleanses his temple, and the temples of our bodies. He brings glory where it has departed. He brings life where there was only death. And he brings sinners to God who had been exiled long ago. He brings righteousness and holiness and life to us who were so lost.

We can, and we do, depart in peace, according to his word. We know the Firstborn Redeemer. Our eyes have seen his salvation. Our ears have heard. Our hearts believe. Our lips confess, even sing, with Simeon, with Anna, with all the believers of old, with all the saints already departed, and with those who wait for him on earth.

Lord, now let your servants depart in peace, according to your word, for our eyes have seen your salvation in Jesus Christ, our Lord, amen.

Sermon - Christmas Day - Isaiah 52:7-10

Christmas Day 2011

Isaiah 52:7–10

“All I Want for Christmas are Beautiful Feet”

A blessed Christmas day to you, dear Christians. I hope and pray your celebration of our Lord's birth has been, and will be joyous. I hope you share some time with friends and family. I hope you get some good food to eat. Maybe we can even watch some good football tonight. But most of all I hope you got a nice gift this year. Yes, I know we all did. We always do.

Did you get any socks? Now there's a gift. What's more practical and boring than socks? What's more everyday? What says that special time of year less than socks? Something that goes on your feet – every day. Socks – not the pretty stockings with all the candy and goodies. Socks that cover a rather inglorious part of your body. I can't think of anything I'd rather get, anything less exciting than socks. Socks are boring. Feet are every-day. Except for a day like today.

Isaiah writes: “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness”

Picture this. Jerusalem has been at war. It's been a long fought battle. The enemy is relentless. The city is under the cloud of doom. The soldiers march off to battle. The outcome is unknown. The women and children wait in the safety of the city walls – waiting to hear word. Over the mountain, someone will appear. Will it be the enemy flag, raised high in conquering might? Will it be our own bedraggled and defeated soldiers, retreating for one last desperate stand? No.

It's a lone messenger. And he's running. He's exuberant and ebullient. His message is urgent. His news is good. He brings good tidings of great joy. Peace! Victory! The warfare is over. The people are safe. The champion has won! Death does not win the day.

The watchmen on the city walls see him, and they know what it means! They start to sing together – a song of joy – a song that hasn't been heard since this terrible war started. Soon the women and children join in and the whole city raises its voice together, “Our God reigns! He has given us the victory!”

But it all started with those feet. The feet of the messenger. When they crossed the mountaintop. Feet, which are usually dirty and dusty and smelly. But feet which bring good news are a blessed, beautiful sight for sore and weary and fearful eyes.

Jesus Christ is born. He takes on human flesh. He takes a human body. Eyes, ears, mouth, nose, hands, legs... feet. Those precious baby feet stick out of the manger, and they are such good news for us. More innocent than any human babe ever born, this holy one of God is the bearer of the best news ever to touch any mountain or valley. His arrival is the beginning of the good news. God has come to save. To comfort Jerusalem. To redeem his people.

But those baby feet would grow. They would walk the walk of a perfect life, treading where we cannot, though we stumble every day. The thong of his sandal John isn't worthy to untie. But still he walks into the river to be baptized for us. His feet carry him to the wilderness for us. He would go up to Jerusalem for us. His feet would be anointed with a woman's tears and perfume for burial. And those feet would be nailed to a cross for us. But they would also walk him out of the grave for us. And they would ascend in glory for us.

Yes, the serpent bruised his heel, but that same foot would crush the head of our old foe, destroying him and his power over us forever. The warfare is over. Jesus' feet bring peace. They are beautiful feet, indeed.

All I want for Christmas are the beautiful feet of him who brings good news. And that's just what I get, and so do you. All I want is the Gospel, the message of salvation in Jesus Christ, and that is enough. All the presents under the tree will pass away. Moth and rust will do their work. But the word of God stands forever, the promise of Christ stands forever, and we, with our humble but faithful feet, can always stand on that sure rock, forever.

Today we hear that word. Today, and each time we gather in his house, we hear the good news of great joy. We hear it from humble servants whose feet aren't anything special but the message they bring is so sweet. And whether it's the beautiful feet of pastors, teachers, parents or friend, God provides feet to keep his message coming. He sends the messengers to keep bringing that message of salvation in Jesus Christ our Lord. And no matter how gnarly and dirty and smelly the feet, the feet that bring Christ are beautiful feet indeed.

Our baptism washes us, and not just our filthy feet, but our head and hands, also. And the Lord's Supper feeds us – body and soul – giving strength to believe and live as Christ has promised. Forgiven and freed, we follow his example, and wash feet – serve our neighbor – love one another.

So maybe socks aren't so bad. Maybe feet aren't so everyday. For feet that bring good news like this are beautiful feet. This doesn't happen everyday. Christ is born for us. His work on earth began that day in Bethlehem, and would lead to Calvary and cross. But it is finished. Christ is risen. He has done all things well. So lift up your voices in the victory song, for our God reigns, and gives us all good things. Amen.