Sermon - Christmas 1 - Luke 2:22-40

The Fullness of Time

Galatians 4:4-7

Luke 2:22-40

The long wait is over, and here we are on the other side of Christmas.  I’ve always found it a bit easier, once we are past the actual day – once the gifts are unwrapped, the company has come and gone, and the dust settles… to be less distracted and more thoughtful about the true meaning of Christmas.  We can stand a little more apart from the busy-ness and sentimentality now that the world has moved on to Valentines Day decorating.  The church continues to reflect on the meaning of this holy birth, this precious child born to save.

Today, I’d like to start with our reading from Galatians.  Here Paul reflects a bit on the meaning of Christmas with his commentary on Christ’s birth.  He explains that it happened “when the fullness of time had come”.  And there is a phrase worth examining.  The fullness of time.  We don’t usually think of time as being “full”, but rather as running out.  Or frittering away our wasted time.  It’s something we never seem to have enough of.  But here, the image is quite the opposite.  As a measuring cup filling up to the line.  Or as an hourglass or a container of some sort, that God is filling, filling, until it comes to the brim and spills over.  A cup of blessings, perhaps, ready to spill over.

You look at the Old Testament and see God working.  He builds one man into a family, and then into a nation.  He plants that nation in a homeland.  They fend off enemies, rise and fall, are exiled and return.  A temple is built and rebuilt.  And a world empire takes over – bringing a tense peace.  The conditions, in hindsight, were right.  Of course God was not just waiting for the right time, but preparing the world.  Working through all the ups and downs of history to pull the trigger, when the time is just right, to send forth his Son.

Even now, with all the hindsight of thousands of years of history, it is difficult to see God’s hand moving through the rise and fall of nations, the challenges and triumphs of his people.  But we trust that the Almighty knows what he is doing, and always works for the good of those who love him. It’s not as if God is sitting helplessly on the sidelines, waiting for his chance, his big moment.  Nor was he ever.  He knows his plan laid from the foundation of the world, and nothing will hinder him from accomplishing it.  So when the fullness of time had come, God acted, sent forth his Son. 

Born of a woman, and born under the law.  Yes, it might appear that he came into the world in the usual way, but we know the backstory.  Son of a woman, born under the law, but also Son of God, and giver of the Law.  And with his two natures our Savior would both fulfill that law and impute his righteousness to the world, so that all who believe would be saved.

So that we might be adopted as sons, heirs, and have the right to call on the Father as dear children do.  The Father always knows when the time is right.  And we see that in our reading from Luke as well.

“And when the time came…” he begins, that is, the time for Mary and Joseph to bring Jesus to the temple for the prescribed rituals.  Purification for Mary and the redemption of the firstborn for Jesus.  Joseph and Mary were faithful and pious, they seem to have done everything a good Jew was expected to do.  They knew the times and seasons God had appointed, and they observed them.

And then we meet Simeon.  An unusual character, perhaps a priest himself.  Righteous and devout, and had been given a special revelation by the Holy Spirit.  He would not see death until he saw the Christ.  He had a “fullness of time” of his own.  A plan God had laid out for him, a blessed appointment for which he eagerly looked forward.

How long had Simeon waited and waited?  It’s interesting that we are not told.  There is a tradition in the Orthodox church that claims Simeon was one of the 72 scholars who translated the Septuagint (the Greek Old Testament).  The story goes that he was translating Isaiah 7:14 “A virgin shall conceive…” and that just as his pen hovered over the word “virgin” in order to change it to “woman”, the Spirit stopped him, an angel appeared to him, and gave him this special revelation that he wouldn’t die until meeting the Christ.  If this is true it would make Simeon somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 years old. 

Now we don’t rest our faith on a pious tradition such as this.  It could well have been that Simeon was no older than a usual old man.  What matters isn’t the details of this unusual sign (or we would have been told them).  What matters is that God fulfills his promises whenever the time is right. 

However old you are when you meet the Christ, it is the right time.  Whatever you are doing, whatever stage of life, whether part of your plans or not.  In the fullness of time God acts, in time, to save you.  He sent Jesus at just the right time.  He brought the good news of Christ to you at just the right time.  You are baptized at just the right time – buried and raised with Christ.  And when God calls you home, and your time in this vale of tears is ended – it is also just the right time, the time of his choosing.  So it was for Simeon, so it will be for you.

And don’t forget Anna – who we are told her age – I guess Scripture doesn’t abide by the rules of politely never mentioning a woman’s age.  She joins Simeon in this strange and wonderful meeting with the Christ, also at just the right time, blessing him and confirming the blessing from God that this child is and will be

Simeon and Anna, in a way, these two elderly saints, stand as a sort of Adam and Eve.  They who in earliest days stood before Yahweh to hear the results of their sin, who first tasted the fruit of sin and death.  They, also who first heard the promise of salvation through the seed of the woman.  Now this old man and old woman, who appear as if out of nowhere, who represent to us the ravages of time and sin, and for whom death hovers ever near – they remind us of our first parents in the Garden.  But they also represent to us the fullness of time, the completion of the plan, the long-awaited closing of the loop of God’s promises.  The seed of the woman is here!  The Christ is born!  The tears of Eden give way to the joy of Simeon and Anna who have seen the salvation of Yahweh, even the glory of Israel.

And Simeon even sings about it.  What joy that we have this Nunc Dimittis, “Now let your servant depart in peace, in accordance with your word”.  Simeon sings with joy that he can finally die in peace, for he has met the Christ.  He can go from this sorrow-filled world.  His long life has now reached its fullness, in Christ.  And for Simeon, all is now well.

It is no accident that we sing the song of Simeon when we too have met the Christ.  We meet him not at the temple, but at the altar.  We receive him, not wrapped in swaddling clothes, but hidden under bread and wine.  We receive him with the same joy that sees his salvation.  And we, like Simeon, can depart in peace from this blessed meeting, in accordance with God’s word.  Sins forgiven, we can even die in peace, ready at any time – whatever God’s plan for us may be.

Think of this, dear Christian, any time you come to God’s house, hear the Gospel, receive the Sacrament, it could be the last.  God could call you home tonight or tomorrow morning.  Your days are at his discretion.  Your days are numbered.

But in faith we don’t fear death any more than old Simeon.  For he was in Christ, and he could depart in peace.  What a joy and peace to know that whatever the appointed time of your departure, your sins are forgiven, and you can depart in peace, according to the will of him who holds all the times and seasons and years and days in his hand.

In the fullness of time, God sent forth his son, born to die, also at the appointed time.  A child, appointed for the rising and fall of many.  A son, who would be pierced – crushed – and who would by his death bring the consolation of Israel, and of you.  Trust in the One who acts – in the fullness of time – and always at the right time – even Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Sermon - Luke 1:26-38 - Advent 4

The last reading set before us in Advent, as we wait in expectation and eagerly look toward our Christmas celebration – the final story we hear from Scripture before Christmas begins - is the Annunciation.  The angel Gabriel comes to see the virgin Mary, and proclaims to her the good news that she will be the mother of the Messiah, the Christ.

It is no small event in its own right. It’s part of our creeds – that Jesus was conceived by Holy Spirit… Usually celebrated by the church on March 25^th, exactly 9 months before Christmas, the Annunciation marks the real beginning of the incarnation.  Jesus’ earthly life as a human being begins, we notice, in the womb.  He didn’t come from heaven as a man, fully matured and ready to do whatever.  He didn’t even appear simply as a baby.  But he undergoes the full extent of our human experience in order to redeem all of our humanity – not just cradle to grave, but womb to tomb.

And so, just 5 days before Christmas, we mark the conception of Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, in the womb of the virgin Mary.

Let’s take a closer look at this account from St. Luke, who carefully researched all these events and likely interviewed Mary herself who then relayed this story for us to hear. 

Mary was betrothed.  That means she was already spoken for, in a sense.  It’s a little more legally binding than engaged, but still not quite married.  She and Joseph had their plans.  They were faithful and observant Jews, we can see, from how they often even traveled to Jerusalem for the appointed festivals.  They were probably planning to have a family, and raise their children in the fear of the Lord.  Maybe they’d already registered at Bed Bath and Beyond, or whatever the 1^st century equivalent was.  And the appearance of the angel here, and the words of the angel, and the implications of his message – threatened all of that.  But let’s see what happens.

But she was betrothed to a man named Joseph.  Luke mentions that Joseph was of the house of David.  And this is no small detail.  This rather intentional reference lays the groundwork for what is about to happen.  We know that the Messiah who was promised was to be a Son of David.  And Jesus would qualify both through the bloodline of his mother, and through membership in the household of his legal guardian, Joseph.

And so the angel appears, and greets her.  And what has always amazed me about this is that Mary is not puzzled by the appearance of an angel, that an angel should appear, I think, would be a most troubling, puzzling, and shocking event for any of us.  But Mary almost seems to blow past that – and is troubled instead at the greeting.  She focuses on the message, not the messenger, even when it’s a heavenly messenger.

We do well to follow her example, too.  Pastors may come and pastors may go.  You may change churches or move here and there.  You may hear the word of God from faithful parents, grandparents, teachers, and other Christians.  God uses multiple and varied channels to speak to us, his people.  But in the end what matters more than these, even more than an angel from heaven, is the word of God itself, the message of the Gospel.  We think of how St. Paul speaks to the Galatians – if anyone, if anyone preaches to you a message contrary to what you have heard from me – even if it’s an angel from heaven – let them be anathema (accursed).  So important is the message of the gospel.  Let us ever listen to the voice of the Shepherd, no matter who is speaking it.  And let us never be lead astray from the truth of his word, no matter how impressive or slick or convincing the false preacher.  Hold fast to the word.  Believe the gospel!

And the beginning of the gospel is here – with the incarnation of Christ.  What an appropriate way to begin it – with an annunciation – a word!  As the angel speaks to Mary the word of God’s promise, so does it become reality.  Mary conceives.  And the light comes into the world.  Sure, that light is not revealed until Mary gives birth, and our incarnate Lord remains for a time hidden in the womb, but even there he is recognized by the unborn baby John the Baptist, who leaps for joy as the two expectant mothers visit.

But even Mary has to admit this is all rather strange.  It is, in fact, unique in all of human history.  We know the way of it – how conception and procreation work.  But the God who designed it all breaks the usual pattern with this miracle child, this singular incarnation of his Son.  And Jesus is conceived by the Holy Spirit.  Thus no man can claim credit for bringing the Savior into the world, but just as our salvation is accomplished by God alone, so is Christ’s manifestation among us also a pure work of God, and of no other.  It is entirely an act of grace. 

But back to the greeting that troubled Mary so.  “Greetings, you who are highly favored”.  And the angel repeats it later, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”  That Greek word, charis, means favor or grace, or a special honor.  It, too, denotes a blessing or a gift that is undeserved – but flows freely from the grace of God.

Perhaps this greeting troubled Mary because she, like all of us, knew her status as a sinner.  Someone unworthy of such favor.  As she later would sing, “You have regarded the lowliness of your handmaiden”.  Mary knew she didn’t deserve a special place of honor any more than the next sinner, and yet an angel appears and calls her “highly favored”!  It is a strange message indeed. 

But so also is the Gospel.  I could greet you in the same way.  Greetings, you who are highly favored!  You, like Mary, have received the grace of God.  Grace, not to be the mother of the Lord, but grace to be the brother of the Lord, and a child of the Heavenly Father.  In Jesus’ incarnation you, too, are highly favored, sinner that you are, that your race, your human family, should be so honored to have among its ranks the eternal Son of the Father.  And more.  This child now conceived and soon to be born, would grow to a man who would preach and teach and heal and serve and finally die for the sins of the world, and for Mary’s sins, and for yours.  There is no greater favor or grace we could hope for than that!  There is no better greeting than the one that points to God’s grace in Jesus Christ.

The angel gives a few more details to Mary – that the child should be named Jesus.  That name (Yeshua in Hebrew) means, “God Saves”.  And here again we see that we are highly favored.  For it is not man who saves.  It is not we who save ourselves.  And yet along with Mary we now we need saving.  But so simple is the truth:  God saves.  And he does it through Yeshua, the fruit of Mary’s womb. 

And there’s more.  The child will be the Son of the Most High.  He is divine.  He is the eternal Son of the Father.  Before there was, he was.  He may be your son, too, Mary, but he is also much, much more.

And he’ll even occupy the throne of his father David.  He will fulfill the ancient promise that David’s son would reign forever.  Here the angel makes it clear to Mary, and to us, that this child is the Messiah.  He is the fulfillment of God’s promises of old.  He is the seed of the woman sent to crush the serpent.  He is the Prophet like Moses that God raises up, a new and better Joshua to lead his people.  He is the offspring of Abraham by whom all nations are blessed.  He is the Suffering Servant of Isaiah who will bear our griefs and sorrows.  He is the one to whom all the Scriptures testify, as he himself would claim.  Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

One day Mary would stand at the foot of the cross.  There she would see this child that God granted her put to death in gruesome fashion.  There she would see the word made flesh accomplishing salvation for us all, the truest expression of God’s favor.  And if the greeting of the angel was strange, the cross of Christ is even stranger.  That God would save his people in such a way.  But that’s just what he does.  Nothing is impossible with God.

Mary’s response to this word of God through the angel, the strange greeting and all the other strange things that would come of it, is an example of faith for us to follow.  She speaks this beautiful confession:  “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

You and I could, and should, say the same.  We are servants of the Lord.  Let it be to us according to God’s word.  That word which shows our sin – let it be to me as you have said, Oh Lord.  I am a sinner, and I deserve nothing.  That word which shows God’s grace.  Let it be to me as you have said, Oh Lord.  In Christ I am highly favored, though I deserve nothing but punishment.  That word of Christ himself, by which he proclaims his mission accomplished, his sacrifice complete, and our sins atoned for:  It is finished!  Let it be to me, according to your word, Oh, Christ.

And as we prepare ourselves for Christmas, let us join with humble Mary in receiving the word of God in faith, strange as it ever may be, for in Jesus Christ we see that indeed, God Saves.  Amen.

Sermon - 2nd Sunday in Advent - Mark 1:1-8

Mark 1:1-8

“Comfort, Comfort”

Mark begins his Gospel as abruptly as you might expect.  The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

As it is written is Isaiah….

Behold, I send my messenger before your face,

who will prepare your way,

the voice of one crying in the wilderness:

Prepare the way of the Lord,

make his paths straight,’ ”

And then John appears.  As if out of nowhere.  And John starts preaching – a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  This is what the voice says.  This is how the way is prepared.  This is how Isaiah is fulfilled:  Repent, be baptized, and get your sins forgiven.  For the Lord is coming.

Yes, every year, during Advent, John the Baptist makes his visit.  We’ll hear about him next week, too, in John’s Gospel.  Today, we see him especially in connection with the prophecy of Isaiah, a prophecy about the one who prepares the way.

That Isaiah passage begins with the words, “Comfort, comfort, my people”, After Israel had been taken captive and banished from her homeland by invading armies, the voice of God healed her wounds, because the prophet proclaimed “comfort” to God’s people, because “her warfare is ended…her iniquity is pardoned.”

If there’s ever been a time we need comfort, it’s these days.  Anxieties are high.  People are more on edge.  I’m sure you’ve noticed it too, even here in our church family.  Fears about our health, our mental health, our spiritual health swirl around us.  People are testy – quicker than usual to snip at each other.  We are suspicious – not always putting the best construction on our neighbor’s actions.  We feel frustrated with a world that seems so out of control, and we pine for a return to normal and wonder if it will ever come.

We need comfort.  We could use a nice healthy portion of it these days.

But in many ways John is an uncomfortable fellow. I mean, even his manner of dress makes for discomfort – camel’s hair – sounds itchy and scratchy.  John’s a bit of a wild man – living out in the wilderness – eating bugs and probably hasn’t had a haircut for far longer than you’ve been away from your favorite salon.  He’s rough and tumble, this Old Testament character, this scruffy prophet.  But his message is also un-comfortable.

Repent!  Turn from your sins!  John’s message is as abrupt as his appearance at the beginning of Mark’s Gospel.  He just shows up on your doorstep and cries out.  Repent!  No soft-pedaling political smoothery.  No gentle socractic leading to get you to realize your problem on your own.  John lays it out there – rubs your nose in it.  Repent!  You’re a sinner.  Turn from your sins.  This isn’t polite dinner conversation or light-hearted banter.  This is hard-hitting, stark-reality, un-comfortable law.  You’re a sinner and you better shape up, cut it out, be sorry for your sins, and turn from them in disgust.

It’s uncomfortable because we know what the wages of sin are.  Death.  It’s uncomfortable because we know that God hates sin and condemns sinners.  It should make us spiritually squirmy for the law to work us over. The prophet’s simple and direct call to repentance leaves no one out, leaves no excuses, and gives us nothing but shame and despair.

But that’s not all John says.

Just as quickly, he moves from repentance to forgiveness.  Just as quickly as he rips off the bandaid, he applies the healing balm.  John the Baptist does bring the comfort, the comfort of the gospel.  And he does it even in the same breath.

“Repent and be baptized,” John preached, “for the forgiveness of your sins”  Let us remember in this time of pandemic, fear, frustration, uncertainty, and generalized malaise – that the real problem we face is and always has been sin.  And therefore the only real solution we can hope for is exactly the solution our God has prepared for us – the forgiveness of sins.

You are baptized, Christian!  And that’s far from nothing.  It is a great comfort.  It’s a place you can take comfort, there, the font.  There, where God made you his own, washed your sin away, and you became an heir of all the blessings of heaven.  Not a historical footnote on a page of your life long forgotten.  Your baptism is a present reality, a daily renewal, a rebirth that keeps on giving you blessings.  John’s baptism prepared the way for Jesus’ baptism, a fuller expression of this blessed washing that you now enjoy.  A great comfort for God’s people.

And John also preached a word of comfort.  The good news that the Lord is coming – that it’s time to get ready for his appearance.  Make his paths straight.  Prepare a royal highway.  It’s a terror if you’re stuck in your sins, to know that the Lord is coming.  That means judgment is coming, punishment you well deserve.  But in faith, the coming of the Lord is a comfort, and only comfort.  It’s better than the arrival of your best friend, or a beloved family member, a long-lost loved one.

A dear Christian recently reminisced with me about the loved ones she had lost in her long life, and how she looked forward to seeing them again in the kingdom to come.  But then, I heard the voice of faith, as she added, “But I’m so much more looking forward to meeting Jesus.”  To know that Christ is coming, and that you get to meet him face to face, what a comfort for his people!

Yes, John preached comfort because he didn’t preach himself.  In fact, he humbly confessed he was not the Christ.  He pointed forward to one far greater than himself.  The one who is greater than me because he was before me.  The one of whom I’m not worthy to undo his sandal.  I baptize with water, but he will baptize with the Spirit and with Fire. 

John brought a baptism and a word of repentance and forgiveness, but it was a word of comfort from Jesus.  John preached the word, Jesus is the living word.  John prepared the way.  Jesus is the way, the truth, the life.  John brought the comfort a baptism and hope.  Jesus delivered that very salvation, in his person, by his life and death.

What comfort we Christians find in the cross.  There, in the crucified Christ, we see the depth and breadth of God’s love for us sinners.  There, in Jesus, the perfect sacrifice for all sins that ever were or would be.  There in the Son of God made flesh and offered as a substitute for you, is the cure for all that ails you, for all the troubles of a broken world, for all the aches of heart and mind and soul.  If you are afraid, look to the cross.  If you are in sorrow, look to the cross.  If you carry the weight of your sins, the burdens and cares of this life, of your loved ones, seemingly of the world, look to Jesus – the one greater than John – the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  And there find your peace, your hope, your joy, your comfort.

This Advent season, we prepare again for Christmas, for a joyous celebration of the only true and lasting comfort we Christians have.  But oh, what comfort he brings.  So prepare your hearts by repentance and faith.  Let John preach it to you again – make straight the paths of the Lord.  Remember your baptism.  And with Isaiah, and all the prophets, and all the believers who anticipate his coming.  Find your comfort in Christ.  Amen.