Sermon - Easter 3 - John 21:1-19

John 21:1-19
Easter 3
April 18th, 2010
“What Jesus Knows – What Jesus Gives”

John's Gospel is wrapping up. He tells us today a third appearance Jesus made after his resurrection. Now on the shore of the Sea of Galillee, Jesus the risen Lord appears to his still dazed and confused disciples.

They seemed out of it. Bored. Peter abruptly announces he's going fishing. The others join him.

And here comes Jesus, with a familiar miracle – a catch of fish after a night of nothing. He had done this before, when he was first calling his disciples to follow him. That was then, but this is now. The catch seems even greater. They can't haul it in, but the nets aren't breaking. Jesus, of course, knows fishing better than the fishermen.

Before, when Peter saw such a miracle he trembled in fear. That was then, but this is now – and Peter throws himself into the water just to be all the closer to Jesus as soon as possible. Wouldn't it be nice if we were so eager to be with Jesus – to come hear his words, and receive his gifts?

Now he who has renewed all things by his death and resurrection is renewing his commission to them in word and deed. Soon he would be charging them as his under-shepherds – feed my sheep – be pastors.

But first, he wanted to feed them. The last meal they had together was different. It was a Passover meal, in which he gave them a New Testament in his body and blood. Now, breakfast on the beach. And while this meal isn't the sacrament per se, it sure reminds us that Jesus the host and provider of the meal is always the one to feed us.

Then, as now, Jesus feeds his disciples, his people. He's still the host of the meal. He still invites us to the table. He still prepares and provides what we need. All physical and spiritual blessings, undeserved, from his grace and mercy. For even in his glorified and resurrected form, he is not too humble to serve his people.

After breakfast, Jesus singles out Peter. “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” What a formal question. Not calling him by his nickname, “Peter”, but by his given and family name. Something official is about to happen.

Peter answers yes, and Jesus asks again. After the third question, Peter gets the point. And he is grieved. In a not so subtle way, Jesus was reminding him of his sin.

Peter, who had denied him three times. “Oh, no, Lord, I'll even die with you if I have to!” But Peter failed when the going got tough. Oh he would wield his sword and cut off a man's ear – but would he stand and boldly confess Jesus? Peter would fight the soldiers, but when questioned by a servant girl, he crumbled. He denied, denied, and denied again, just as Jesus said he would. And then their eyes met, and Peter bawled like a baby.

Does our sin bring us to grief? Do you know and feel your sin like Peter? Do we realize just how much and how often we let the Lord down by our own denials of him? We surely act like we don't know him. And even if we think we can put on a good front, Jesus knows all things. He knows that we don't love him as we should. He knows we don't love our neighbor as ourselves. We want to... but like the disciples, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

But even in his grief, Peter still trusts Jesus. He appeals to the one who knows everything. Jesus knows Peter's sin. He also knows how sorry he is.

But he also knows his love for Peter, a love that drove him to the cross, a love that death could not contain. And so he restores Peter, forgives him, and even re-commissions him for work in the kingdom. So does Jesus do for us all.

This formal conversation was needed to clear the air, and restore Peter from the denier he was, to the pastor he would be. The shepherd of Jesus' flock. Feeding and caring for the sheep by distributing the gifts of the great Good Shepherd himself. Just as pastors do today – in the word, in the sacrament, in baptism and holy absolution. We pastors give to you – formally - what we also receive from Christ – all for the love of Jesus which he first shows us.

He deals with our sin. He forgives and feeds us. Then he puts us to work. Fishermen become fishers of men. Wayward sheep become shepherds of his flock. Wanderers in sin become followers of Christ.


No, we're not all called to be pastors, but we all need restoration and forgiveness. We're not all going to be shepherds of the sheep, but we support the ongoing work of the Good Shepherd. And we receive his gifts as he gives them, always giving thanks.

And a final cryptic saying from our Lord. He predicts how Peter would die. Tradition tells us Peter was crucified in Rome, upside down. Jesus, who knew all things, surely would know it was coming. And perhaps he tells us here to remind us that following him will come with opposition, suffering, and even sometimes death. But a death in Christ always glorifies God.

Yes, Peter would follow Jesus to a cross, and to a death. But he who restored Peter from denial will also restore him and all believers from death itself. Just as he conquered the grave, so a resurrection awaits his people. And we will live, like Jesus lives, forever.

This good news sustains us, his sheep. This promise feeds our faith, and strengthens us to follow him. So be fed by him, you sheep of the Lord. And follow him – in life, in death, and in new life forever. Just like Peter.

In Jesus Name, Amen.

Sermon - Easter 2 - John 20:19-31

John 20:19-31
Easter 2
April 11th, 2010
“Thomas and Jesus”

It's not just because I like his name. I've always had a soft spot for Thomas. Who knows why he wasn't there on that first Easter Sunday – when Jesus appeared to them in the locked room. Maybe because he wasn't quite as afraid as they were? And who could forget Thomas was the one who said, when it appeared Jesus was headed for Jerusalem, “Let us also go, that we might die with him”.

But we don't call him “brave Thomas”, do we? We know him as “doubting Thomas”. For when the other apostles told him the news of the risen Jesus, he didn't believe it. In fact, in a foot-in-mouth moment that would last for all history, he went so far as to say, “I won't believe it unless I can touch his wounds myself!' Well, Thomas, you don't want to put the Lord to the test, now, do you?

But really, this account from John's Gospel isn't so much about Thomas – and whether he is brave or a doubter. This account is about Jesus. And it's not only about Jesus and Thomas, but like all of John's Gospel, “These things are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”

It's about Jesus. Jesus who is, in fact, risen from the dead. But because he rose for the benefit of his people, he takes the time to prove it to them. He shows them. He appears to them. To Mary Magdelene and the women at the tomb. To his fearful disciples now in the wake of the Good Friday tumult. And to at least 500 others throughout the next 40 days.

Jesus – so reliable and true, his word so sure and trustworthy, that he rose from the dead just like he said he would. Jesus, who fulfilled every little prophecy about the suffering servant Messiah – prophecies of the Scriptures and prophecies from his own lips. He knew he would die. He knew how he would die. He knew he would rise. And he told the disciples how it would all go down. But they didn't believe.

Not only did they doubt it, but Peter even argued with him. God forbid it! He said. But Jesus said such talk was of Satan.

Now it had all come to pass. The betrayal, the denial, the striking the shepherd and the sheep were scattered. So much for bravery from them.

Now these same cowardly doubters were locked up for fear of the Jews. And it took a miraculous entrance by Jesus for his first resurrected visit with them. Oh, but doubting Thomas wasn't there with the other doubters.

They tried to tell him. We have seen the Lord! But he didn't believe them. If none of them would believe Jesus before, is it any wonder Thomas wouldn't believe them now? As much as they tried to convince him, he would only believe on his own terms. Seeing is believing. Touching is believing. But just hearing the word? Not so easy.

And when Jesus appears a week after Easter, he tells him, and shows him, and invites him to touch. It's true, Thomas. Stop doubting and believe. And Thomas believes. “My Lord and My God!” he confesses. Doubting Thomas becomes believing Thomas.

Tradition holds that Thomas became a missionary to India, where he is still honored as the first Christian missionary there. It is also said that Thomas was stoned to death and then stabbed with a spear, thus fulfilling his own words, “Let us also go, that we might die with him”.

And on this first Sunday of Easter, the Christian church traditionally recalls this “doubting Thomas” account, for it occurred on the original first Sunday after the Resurrection. We remember the account of Thomas and Jesus.

We remember Thomas for his doubting. But we remember also that Jesus met him where he was. He knew just what Thomas needed, and invited him to stop doubting, and believe. He showed him his wounds – hands and side – proof of his suffering and death. But the one who showed the proof was alive. And interestingly, the text never says whether Thomas actually touched those wounds. But it does record his confession of faith, “My Lord and my God”.

What was truly unusual was not that Thomas doubted. The story is really about Jesus – who was alive – and who reached out to the doubter.

So what are the lessons for us? What would Jesus have us learn from the Thomas account? Perhaps, very simply, “stop doubting and believe”. For Thomas isn't the only doubter. Those other disciples doubted too. And the disciples here this morning are doubters too.

We doubt the resurrection. We doubt the words and promises of Christ. We doubt those hard words of Scripture that bump against what our culture has taught us. We doubt those plain words of Scripture that fly in the face of what mainstream science proclaims.

We doubt the perfect demands of the law. We doubt the soothing forgiveness of the Gospel. We want to believe what we want to believe, and not what he calls us to believe.

But still he calls us. And still he promises a blessing, “blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe”. What a far-reaching blessing. For almost all who believe in Christ do so without seeing or touching. Thomas and those other disciples were truly the exception. We are the rule. Christ comes to us his people through his word, and in his sacraments. And yet somehow, by the power of the Spirit, we believe. And we are blessed.

Well, we may not touch the wounds. But Christ does touch us in the sacrament. His body and blood touch our lips, and nourish our souls. One of the many benefits of the Lord's Supper is the strengthening of our faith – that is, the diminishing of our doubts. But more than that he calls us through his word. He calls us Sunday after Sunday, persistent in his mercy and grace. Stop doubting, and believe. And if he can conquer death, he can conquer your doubts and fears.

And just as he invited Thomas to put his finger in the wounds, he invites you to put your faith in his words. I am with you always. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies. Your sins are forgiven, go in peace.

John closes the Thomas account, “These things are written that you may believe.” And so we hear, and so we do. In Jesus Christ, amen.

Sermon - Good Friday - 2010

Hebrews 9:27-28
Good Friday
April 2nd, 2010
“Die Once”

Jesus dies. Today we not only remember it, but we face it starkly. It is finished. He breathes his last. He gives up his spirit.

We're so accustomed to throwing it out there like nothing: “Jesus died for you”. But today we think carefully, closely, on what that means. Death. In all its darkness and ugliness. Death, that great enemy that looms over us all. The end. Lights out. No more.

Death is never pretty. It is, after all, the wages of sin. And sin is ugly. It's an ugly feeling to know your sin. Guilt. Shame. But worse is the punishment. The fear of punishment. And the ultimate punishment is death.

Hebrews tells us, “it is appointed for a man to die once, and after that comes judgment”. We know it's true. Physical death isn't the final end. But it brings us before God for judgment. Eternal death is the real punishment. Physical death is only a shadow of this.

We die once. We don't keep coming back, again and again. There is no reincarnation, no cycle of endless lives to keep on trying and improving. This precious gift of life is a one-time-deal. A short breath, but an important one. One life to live. And then, we die. Once. And then the judgment. There is no second chance.

Or is there?

Christ died once, but not because of his sin. He died because of your sin and mine. He died to bury sin. He died to “deal with it” as only he could. And at the cross sin IS dealt with. It is finished. It's a done deal.

Christ rose, and will come again – but not to die. He will come to judge, and to save. To judge those outside of salvation. Those who reject his gifts, his work, his death. And to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.

Christ died. And we too, die. But because he died, death, for us, is different.

Death no longer means judgment. Death no longer has a sting. The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But Christ gives us the victory.

Or to put it another way, we have already died. We died with Christ. We were buried with him. You look in that borrowed tomb and you see yourself there – your old self with all the sins and warts and faults and flaws and deep dark secrets. All of it lies on the cold slab, sealed in the tomb of death. Jesus took it with him.

You died – at the cross – your sins died. You died – at the font. You drowned in the waters of baptism. Overwhelmed in the flood, your sins never stood a chance.

And since you've already died, now you live, even though you die. By faith in Jesus, he who lives and believes will never die. Even though he dies, he will live.

In other words, death isn't really death for those who die in Christ. His death changes what death means for us. It is no longer the enemy to be feared, but the gate to eternal life. It is no longer the summons to God's courtroom for judgment, but a liberation from the prison of our fallen flesh.

In Christ we do get a sort of second chance at life. We get a new life. We partake in his death to partake in his life. We are bound up with him in all of it.

Good Friday, in a sense, is your own funeral. It is the death of your old nature, your sin and shame. It's all nailed to the cross in him. “You who think of sin but lightly nor suppose the evil great, here may view its nature rightly, here its guilt may estimate.”

It's too dark for some people. There are even many Christians who skip Good Friday. Too much of a downer.

But it is good to gather this day, to observe this event, to stand before the cross and appreciate what it means. There's what our sins deserve. There's what his love for us does. There's death in naked display.

But there also, is life in all its fullness. From the cross spring all the blessings we treasure and need. From Christ on the cross flow the blood and water that cleanse us all. From the cross he declares, “it is finished” and makes it so. Here is the center of all human history, the cross-roads of time. The God-man suspended between heaven and earth, the one without sin who becomes sins. And eternal life is born out of eternal death and suffering.

They take him down. They wrap the body and apply some spices. Joseph offers his tomb. They bury him. The stone seals it shut. All is quiet. Death's silent rest begins for our Lord. But death is not the end of him, or of us who are in him

And so we eagerly wait. In somberness over our sin. But with a peace that death will soon give way. In Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Sermon - Tre Ore - Good Friday 2010

Matthew 27:45-46 / John 19:28-29
Good Friday – Tre Ore Service
April 2nd, 2010
“Forsaking and Fulfilling”

Two very different words in this segment. “My God, why have you forsaken me” and “I thirst”. The fourth and fifth of Jesus sayings from the cross. The fourth word is a grand and eloquent declaration of suffering. The fifth a very simple admission of thirst. The fourth word is poetic and existential. The fifth word – factual.

And yet, there is a similarity. Both fulfill prophecy. Both draw on the Psalms. Both words, expressions of his suffering, are not for him, but for us. For in his forsaking, there is fulfilling. In his thirsting, there is salvation.

The fourth word is perhaps the darkest. Jesus quotes Psalm 22, which begins, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” There the psalmist writes a complaint that shows an eerie foresight. “All who see me mock me” the Psalm laments. “they wag their heads and say, 'he trusts in the Lord; let him deliver him!” it goes on... “dogs encompass me, a company of evildoers encircles me. They have pierced my hands and my feet... they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots”.

Not only does Jesus know God's word very well, but the Scriptures know Jesus very well. They know and point to him and to this cross on which he hangs.

But why? Why has God forsaken him? Why does God turn his back on his own Son? Aside for the deep mystery concerning the inner workings of the Trinity – why must this happen?

It is clear. Sin must be punished. Its wages are death. God's righteousness demands it. His holiness cannot tolerate sin. And there is plenty of sin to be dealt with.

As Jesus suffers, he cries out – but not like you and I do. He's not really asking here, “why?” like you and I ask when we suffer. He knows exactly why. He is the Lamb of God. He is the sacrifice appointed. This is the cup he must drink. He who has no sin now becomes sin for us.

But as he quotes this Psalm he speaks for our benefit. And so we see – that his suffering is not some accident. It was the plan from the foundation of the world. And so we see that his suffering is not in vain – for at the end of the Psalm, God restores his suffering servant. Jesus suffers for us – and he cries out in his suffering, for us.

It's not just physical death, though. The spiritual death of sin, the separation from God that sin causes – and the ultimate eternal separation – is the very definition of hell. Away, far away from God – that's the worst place to be. And that's where Jesus was on this cross.

It's been said that the physical suffering he endures here is nothing, absolutely nothing compared to what was happening spiritually. The thorns, the nails, the flogging, the jeering and shame. None of it compared to God the Father's turning away. If you've ever gotten the cold shoulder from a loved one – imagine enduring the disapproval of God for all sins ever committed. Imagine suffering the torments of Hell for all condemned souls who ever lived and sinned. And you will begin, just begin, to appreciate the magnitude of his suffering.

But because God frowns on Christ, he smiles on you. Because God turns away from Christ who carried your sins, he turns to you and sees a clean slate. Because Jesus was forsaken, we will never be forsaken by God – a promise for all eternity.

The fifth word also keys into the Psalms – Psalm 22 reads, “ my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth”. Psalm 69 says, “and for my thirst they gave me sour wine to drink”.

Jesus knows his work is finished. And one detail of prophecy remains. In order to fulfill the scriptures, he says, “I thirst”.

No, this is not Jesus complaining for his own sake. Anymore than he was crying out for his own sake in suffering God's wrath. Some have pointed out how after losing all that blood and sweat – he must have been dehydrated. He must have been terribly thirsty. But that's not why he spoke.

In all things, Christ acts for us. Even on the cross. Even in his dying woes, he acts for us. He thirsts – for us. He thirsts for our salvation. He was drunk the cup of God's wrath down to the last drop. And now, to fulfill prophecy, he tells us, “I thirst”.

Every little detail of his work of salvation is complete. Jesus finishes the job, and does all things well. He does all things well for us who can do nothing right. We who thirst for sinful pleasures, we who lust for more and more. He, however, is the Savior. We who deserve God's wrath and punishment, he who takes it. We who turn away from God in sin, yet God turns away from Jesus - for us.

So too, with Jesus, the news is good. Even in the midst of suffering, surrounded by enemies, the subject of ridicule, thirsting and dying – he is our God, we are his people, he deals with our sins, and brings us salvation.

It's a Good Friday indeed. In Jesus Christ, Amen.

Sermon - Sunday of the Passion - Luke 23:1-56

Luke 23:1-56
Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion
March 28th, 2009
“Every Little Word”

Every little word in the Passion account of our Lord is so rich, so important, so worthy of our meditation. Every verse, every phrase meant to point us to Christ's great work for us – his salvation.

There's the false accusations they bring against Jesus. Half truths. We're well familiar with them. Just as they sought to convict him with lies, we seek to justify ourselves with lies and half-truths. But only Jesus justifies.

Pilate said, “I find no guilt in this man”. But he ended up condemning him anyway. Surely our Lord finds guilt and sin in us, but ends up not condemning us. We are freed from judgment because of Christ.

Then Jesus goes before Herod, who seeks a sign or wonder. We are often the same, seeking from Jesus what he does not promise, but only what entertains or interests us. Is God's grace in Christ boring? To many modern Herods, it is. But it's what they need. It's what we need. Not fancy miracles and wonders, but the simple promise of salvation in Christ.

They mock Jesus so many ways – even by the clothing they put on him. Royal robes, in sarcastic tribute. But Christ truly clothes us with his righteousness, and takes our shabby rags. He makes us a royal priesthood – and wins for us the crown of life. For his part, it's a crown of thorns.

Herod and Pilate – enemies – become friends through their dealings over Jesus. The forces of the world are united in opposing Christ and his church. It's the same today. But it's also true that another set of enemies is united through Christ: God and man. We who, in our rebellion, hated God – we are made friends and even family by the saving work of Jesus.

Then there's Barabbas. Another teaching moment. “A murderer they save the Prince of Life they slay”. You and I are Barabbas. We are just as guilty of death. But innocent Jesus takes his place, our place, and the guilty go free.

The Jew persistently cry for Jesus' death, and Pilate finally relents. What a photo negative image – Christ persistently calls for our pardon, and God the righteous judge relents. Christ is finally condemned. We are finally justified.

Simon of Cyrene. He carried the burden of the cross for Jesus, when Jesus couldn't. But the deeper reality – Jesus carried the burden of the cross, the real burden, for Simon and all sinners.

Jesus tells the mourners not to weep. He knew the destruction that would come for unbelieving Jerusalem. Their city would be lain waste in just 40 years. The Romans would decimate the people. But even worse is the eternal destruction of a all who reject the Christ. Don't weep for Jesus. He will rise. Weep for those who have only the dark future of God's eternal punishment.

Speaking of punishment, there are the two thieves. Criminals on his right and left. He is numbered with them, so that we are numbered with the righteous.

The place of the Skull, Golgotha. A place of death, but also, ultimately, of life. For the moment he is crucified he cries out in forgiveness.

They cast lots for his clothing. Dividing up his few belongings. A few scraps of material. But he who dies here distributes his belongings – his blessings – to countless multitudes.

They jeered “he saved others, let him save himself.” All the while he was saving others. And he would be rescued from death – but only after three days.

They offer him sour wine, but he offers us the sweetest wine – his own blood, along with his body – in a sacramental promise of forgiveness.

The inscription identified him as “king of the Jews”. The same moniker first mentioned by the wise men from the East, “Where is he that is born king of the Jews”. He is the king, not of this world. He is the king, not only of the Jews, but of all the people under his protection and blessing. He is our king.

“Today you will be with me in paradise” he promises the repentant thief. His promise is sure and speedy to all repentant sinners.

The sun's light fails. Creation itself mourns the death of the creator. The light of our planet bows to the Light of Light now extinguishing.

The Temple curtain tears as the true temple of Christ's body is torn down in death. The threshold to the Holy of Holies is obsolete, for Christ is now our passage to God's presence.

He commits his spirit into God's hands, showing us the way to die faithfully. And even the centurion confesses and praises God.

He is buried. No tomb of his own, but the tomb of a rich man. Now that the suffering is done, his body is treated with some honor and respect again. Again one of our hymns keys in, “Heav'n was his home, but mine the tomb wherein he lay”

And as the Sabbath came with nightfall on Friday, they rested according to custom. And Christ's body rested in the tomb. And soon, very soon, the Easter dawn would come.

As you meditate on Christ's passion this week, cherish every little word. Think on, pray on, and give thanks for every detail of our Lord's suffering and death for you. For he takes your place, and gives you all good things out of his great love and mercy.

Sermon - Lent 5 - Luke 20:9-20

Luke 20:9-20
Lent 5
March 21st, 2010
“Get Rid of Jesus?”

“Let's get rid of Jesus,” they said. The Pharisees were out to get him, and he knew it. To them, he was a threat.. To their people, their way of life, their religion.

Sometimes the Pharisees are cast as having petty motives. As if Jesus was winning the high school popularity contest, and they didn't like losing. But there was more to it than that. Jesus preached a message – that was the real scandal to them. It was a different religion. They were true believers in their religion, and so they saw Jesus as a liar, blasphemer, and a dangerous agent of Satan.

Their was a religion of good works. Where a man could please God by his actions. It's actually a pretty common religion, going by many different names, and sometimes no name at all.

It's all religion of the law. Sometimes the window-dressing changes, but the point rarely changes – you have to earn God's favor.

Oh, maybe you can do it by following rabbinical law like the Pharisees did. Or maybe you can do it by meditation and good karma. Or maybe you can do it by saving the environment and going green. Or maybe you can do it by being nice and tolerant and non-judgmental. Maybe you can be “spiritual but not religious”. Or maybe you can do it by just keeping your nose clean – no major commandment breaking. Or maybe you can do it by one big moral or spiritual achievement – “look what I've done for you, God”.

Or, maybe not. No, let's say definitely not. Not according to Scripture anyway. God's demand of perfection takes all of these off the table. His just law reminds us there is no one that is righteous, not one. Religion of the law, the religion of good works, is a man-made religion, oh and Satan's got his thumb in the pie too. It is a self-deception, a foolish and dangerous approach to God that gets it absolutely backward. We see man-made, religion of works for what it is: a fraud. No matter how much we tell ourselves our goodness measures up, it always falls short. No matter how hard we try, we always fail and fall. We sin, and sin, and sin some more. Man-made religion can't stop it. Man-made religion won't do.

What about God-made religion? What about that other religion that Jesus was preaching? Simple. Repent and believe. Repent of your sins, and believe in Jesus for your salvation.

Is it really that simple? That I can admit and confess my sins before God, simply ask to be forgiven, and he grants it? No strings attached? No fuss, no muss? It seems too easy. It seems so simple. Shouldn't it be harder than that? A little effort involved? Does God really give away his riches like a fool on a spending spree?

Think on this, “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also give us all good things?”

The religion of God is the Gospel. It's the good news of Jesus – that by his death on the cross and his rising from the tomb, yes, your sins are forgiven. Yes, your eternal life is secure. Yes, you are pleasing in God's sight, and yes, you live by his Holy Spirit – growing in faith and righteousness. It's all about God's work, not yours. It's all about his promises, not your pipe dreams of self-sufficiency.

But it doesn't happen without Jesus. And that's why people who want to have the religion of the law have to get rid of Jesus.

In the parable, the tenants of the vineyard had this idiotic idea, “if we kill the son, the vineyard will be ours!” Clearly Jesus knew what the Pharisees were up to, and what they would eventually do. His parable shows just how twisted their reasoning was. They really thought they could kill the author of life. They really thought this would solve the problem, and everyone could go back to their nice happy little self-deceptions. Another heretic swept into the dust-bin.

Except - getting rid of Jesus, by seeing him condemned and crucified – it didn't work at all. Death cannot contain him. He rose victorious, and paves the way for the resurrection of his faithful people. The cross only fulfilled his plan. Unwittingly, they had taken part. They truly knew not what they did.

They had rejected the stone, that is, Jesus, but instead of landing on the pile of refuse, he becomes the cornerstone. And a whole church is built upon him. He, Jesus, builds his church. He establishes his people, and the gates of hell will not even prevail against us. Connected to him, built on him, we are solid and sure and strong.

And with this chief cornerstone, Jesus Christ, one of two things happens. Either you fall on him, or he falls on you.

If you fall on him – you are broken to pieces. That is, you are brought to repentance and forgiveness. “a broken and contrite heart” is bound up and healed in him. It's not always the cake-walk some think it to be. And it means the pain of giving up the old ways, breaking the old life, burying the old sins. But it means life. It means blessings. Behind the suffering there is great joy and unspeakable peace. The Christian is quite content to be broken and rebuilt by the architect of our faith, Jesus Christ.

And it's far better than the alternative. For if the stone falls on you, you are crushed – pulverized, even. And this is what awaited the tenants who killed the Son. This is what awaited the Pharisees who killed the Christ. And this is what happens to all who reject the one who came as Savior but will come again as king and judge. He will judge. His justice and wrath will be poured out on the wicked. He will separate sheep from goats, believer from unbeliever. And woe to those who seek to fall back on their own good works, rather than Christ's good work for them. On that day, the religion of man will be exposed as a sham. On that day, there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, as the wicked are rejected by God for eternity.

But you and I – we fall - by faith - on Jesus. We trust in him for salvation. We repent of our sins, and turn to him for mercy. And he grants it.

May we never, ever, “get rid of Jesus”. By rejecting him outright or by pushing him to the side. By neglecting his word or doubting his promises. May we never trust in our own works, our own religion, or our own false righteousness. May we always rest strong and secure on the Church's One Foundation, Jesus Christ our Lord. For he is the only sure place to stand. And in him, the inheritance is ours forever! Amen.

Sermon - Lent 4 - Luke 15:11-31

Luke 15:11-31
Lent 4
March 14th, 2009
“Reckless Love”

Reckless behavior. That's what sin is. It doesn't care about the consequences or whom it hurts. When you sin you even hurt yourself, but you aren't thinking about that usually. Sin doesn't make sense. It never has. But we do it anyway. It's reckless. Senseless. Foolish. Selfish and short-sighted.

Take the prodigal son. He squandered the inheritance in “reckless living”. Wine, women and song. Drinks are on me. Prostitutes. Gambling. Party hardy. But then it was gone. He hadn't saved for his retirement. He wasn't shopping for bargains. He thought only of himself and his momentary pleasures. He was reckless.

But the recklessness began long before he made it to the foreign land. How bold, how brazen, to ask for his inheritance – long before dad died! Father, I want my money and I want it now. I wish you were dead. Just give me what's coming to me. Reckless with his father's feelings, he cares only for himself.

Reckless – in setting off for a foreign land. Away from the protection of his father's house, to a strange place. He didn't care. All that was good about home and family – he must have thought it was a drag. It kept him from doing what he REALLY wanted to do. Living the high life. He didn't plan it out, he just goes. No GPS, no AAA maps. Reckless. Careless. No thought for tomorrow.

What a picture of sin. What a picture of our sin. We want what we want, and we want it now. We don't care who we hurt. We don't think about the consequences. Or maybe we do, and that doesn't stop us anyway.

Reckless living doesn't just mean sex, drugs and rock and roll. It means rolling the dice with our very soul. It means turning away from the true and sure and perfect word and will of God. It means biting the forbidden fruit and well, maybe God wasn't serious about that dying stuff. It means sin now and pay later. No thought or care for the wake of destruction that will follow.

But we all do it. And we can see what it brings.

The prodigal ended up in the pig-pen. And we too, wallowing in our filth, often find ourselves there too. How did it come to this? How did I get so low? Only at the rock-bottom do we see how good we had it. Only when our chickens come home to roost, only when our sins stand bare and bold before us can we clearly see what we have become. Worse than the pigs. More filthy and disgusting are our sins. We wish we could be those pigs instead. And the hunger begins.

The prodigal son “came to himself” or “came to his senses”. He began to see what his recklessness had wrought. He began to turn, to change his heart and mind, to repent. He started out again for home, to a father he hoped would show him one last kindness – not even forgiveness, but at least a meager job. He didn't even deserve that. It was begging time.

But the prodigal son isn't the only one who is reckless.

The father – he too – reckless. Not in sin and selfishness, but in love and selfless-ness. For what father would grant such a request, “give me my inheritance so I can go spend it!” What father would welcome his son back after he spent it? What recklessness – he might do it again, hurt him again, dishonor him again!

But the father is reckless in his love. He “wastes his time” waiting for his son, and sees him coming from a distance. He must have neglected other duties around the estate. And when he sees him, he runs, recklessly – embraces and kisses his wayward boy. He doesn't care who sees him or what they think of him. He makes a fool of himself.

And he lavishes gifts on the poor boy. A ring, shoes, a robe, a feast. Reckless giving. The son's reckless living didn't matter anymore. He was home, safe and sound. In the loving arms of his father.

The parable is clear. God, our heavenly father, loves us with a reckless love. Though we are reckless in our sins, he loves us abundantly, egregiously, ridiculously. So much so that he gives us what is most precious. Not a ring or a robe, but his only begotten Son. He doesn't kill the fattened calf, he sends the Lamb of God for the sacrifice.

And he does prepare a feast for us prodigals. Each time we come to our senses, with repentant hearts... each time we approach our Lord in confession and faith – he feeds us. He gives us of himself. Body and blood, given and shed for you.
It's lent. Calvary approaches. The disciples say, Jesus, don't go to Jerusalem, it's too dangerous! The Jewish leaders are out to get you! Peter tries to rebuke Jesus. The others just don't get it.

But Jesus sets his face like flint. He his reckless love says, “I know I'll die. Better me than you. This is the plan. That I am about to be arrested and tried, condemned and crucified. And on the third day rise” No thought for himself. Only, always, for you.

His reckless love makes amends for your reckless living. God's own Son for every prodigal son and daughter that ever wallowed in the muck of sin. A love which forgives and forgets – no questions asked, no hoops to jump through. Jesus sinners will receive.

So celebrate with him, and with all of us, the foretaste of the feast to come. And live now as a son or daughter of the Father. All his blessings are for you, in Jesus Christ. Amen.

Sermon - Lent 3 - Luke 13:1-9

Luke 13:1-9
Lent 3
March 7th, 2009
“Righteous and Wicked”

Would you rather be righteous, or wicked? Without the context of Ezekiel 33, most of us would say “righteous”. But look carefully at the words of the prophet and you might want to rethink that.

Ezekiel spoke his words of prophecy to the Israelites in exile. They had seen the destruction of their beloved Jerusalem. They had watched the Babylonians bring down the very temple of God. And they themselves were carted off to a foreign land. It all seemed pretty hopeless.

As a people, this was a major blow. But how would they interpret these events? How would they make sense of the tragedy they had experienced? What would they do with it?

Such questions have vexed us all since the Garden of Eden. What to do with pain and suffering and tragedy. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why doesn't God seem to answer my prayer? Why did my loved one have to die? Why don't my children respect me? Why did I lose my job? How is our family going to make it? Is there any hope for my future? Or am I, are we, finally just lost?

You know, you're not the first, and you won't be the last human to ask those tough questions. But where and how do we find our answers, if there are any?

In our Gospel reading, some people thought they had it figured out. So they asked Jesus, “what about those people from Galillee who died in such a horrible way. You know, when Pilate killed then, and then added insult to injury by mixing their blood with their sacrifices?”

Jesus says, “do you think they were worse than others because they suffered this way? No, I tell you...”

Now let's be careful with our Lord's words. Surely Jesus isn't saying the victims of the tragedy are without sin. Jesus would never contradict such clear teaching of scripture which shows the entire corruption of all mankind. “In sin did my mother conceive me” is true of everyone.

But he says there was no particular sin, no worse sin that caused them to suffer.

If it were so, then the survivors might think they were less sinful, or better off. A sense of self-righteousness might be fed with such a false notion. “Oh, those people suffered because they were wicked. Since we're not suffering, we must be pretty good. God must be pleased with us”. It's the same sort of thinking that blames the people of Haiti for their recent disaster. Blame the victims. They must have deserved it somehow, a well-known preacher declares.

But watch out, Jesus says:

“unless you repent, you will all likewise perish”.

What do we deserve? Are we deserving of God's favor and gratitude? Are we so good and nice and righteous that God wants to reward us with long life, nice things, and little pain? Heavens, no. When tragedy strikes, and even when it doesn't, we're wise to remember what we truly deserve. Temporal and eternal punishment.

What don't we deserve? We certainly don't deserve God's kindness in Jesus Christ – but that's what he gives us. He sends Jesus to stand under the crushing burden of God's wrath. He sends Jesus to die under Pilate's judgment, and be dishonored and shamed before all – his blood shed in the company of real criminals. He didn't deserve any of this, but Jesus takes it all for us.

Jesus, too, calls us to repent. He calls not the healthy, but the sick. Like Elijah – he comes with words of hope and comfort for the wicked, not the righteous.

From the very moment that Adam and Eve sinned, they deserved death. God could have justly punished them immediately, sending them straight to hell, do not pass go. But he didn't. Nor does he punish us directly each and every time we sin. He is patient. He gives many opportunities for repentance.

Like that fig tree, God the owner of the gardener is patient with our lacking fruit of righteousness. He sends gardeners, workers into that field to fertilize and tend to the trees, time and again, that fruit might grow. He sends pastors and teachers to speak his word – aiming for repentance and faith – and the good works that flow from faith. He is a patient God, but his patience has a limit. There is a day of judgment.

So who are you? Which would you want to be? The self-assured righteous man? Someone who trusts in himself and his own goodness? That's a sham. There is no such person. God's law won't let you get away with it.

Or do you admit it? Would you count yourself among the wicked? Those who do what is wrong and evil and rebellious and sinful? Are we that bad? Yes. Repent, Jesus says.

But that's not his last word to the wicked. He who trusts in himself will perish – if not now, then someday. God's patience doesn't last forever. But he who repents will live. He who turns away from his sin and turns to Christ – he who believes in Jesus will live, even though he dies.

I'd rather be wicked, and let Christ bring the righteousness. I'd rather be repentant than to follow my sins to hell. I'd rather trust in Jesus and his cross than my own shabby righteousness, which really isn't impressive at all.

For the Christian, repentance is a daily process. It's a continual return to our baptism, drowning that Old Adam and his sinful desires – as the New Man arises again from the water.

May this Lenten season be a time in which you, too, grow in repentance – and faith. For in Jesus Christ we are called to repentance. And in Jesus Christ we don't get what we deserve. And in Jesus Christ is our true, and our only righteousness.

Sermon - Lent 2 - Philippians 3:7 - 4:1

Philippians 3:7 - 4:1
Lent 2
February 28th , 2009
“Us and Them”

There are certain aspects of our culture that promote an “us and them” mentality. Sports is one of them - who doesn't like to root for “us” and against “them” Then there's politics - Republicans and Democrats. And maybe in some other aspects of life we see that divide.

But there's also a stream of thought in our culture that runs against an “us and them” mentality. When it comes to American spirituality, many would balk at the “us and them” idea. “we're all God's children” we are told. “It doesn't matter what you believe, as long as you believe it.” We are discouraged from making distinctions between, “us and them” because it's judgmental and arrogant and, well, just not nice. “Coexist” the bumper sticker admonishes us.

But what does the Bible teach?

Philippians 3 is quite clear. There are many who “walk as enemies of the cross of Christ” yet, “our citizenship is in heaven.” Other portions of Holy Scripture teach the same. There are sheep and goats. There are the righteous and the wicked. The wise and the foolish. The distinction between “us and them” is often made.

Even in our Gospel reading we see the enemies of the kingdom, and of Christ hard at work. The Pharisees and King Herod, the powers that be in Jerusalem would have him killed. They are the enemies.

But doesn't God love everyone? Didn't Jesus die for the sins of the world? Doesn't he want disciples to be made of all nations? Why these distinctions? What's going on here? And more importantly, how do you and I fit in?

Let me first of all say this is not one of those sermons that is meant to build up the “us” by bashing the “them”. As I often say, one of the worst comments a preacher could hear about his sermon is, “boy, pastor, you really gave it to THEM today!”

Let's be clear. Without Jesus, “we” are “them”. You look at the description Paul gives of the enemies of Christ. And we look a lot like that don't we. We act as if our god is our belly. We sometimes glory in things that are shameful. And we certainly have our minds set on earthly things. In a word, we are sinners. We are “them”. The other team, playing against God, rebelling against his will. We cast our lot in with Satan each time we turn and do what is wrong. Any sermon that blasts sinners for sinning is going to blast each and every one of us. And it should. Paul says it well in Romans 3, “there is NO distinction. ALL have sinned... “

All the more, because we're supposed to be on the right side. We're disciples of Jesus after all. We're not like those unbelievers, those miserable people who have better things to do than worship God except when we are like them. We're not like those people who do whatever we want except we do whatever we want. We're not going around cursing and lying and stealing and hurting others, except, oh yes, we are.

If you don't think you're a sinner, scripture has something to say to you. Just take the 10 commandments, for instance. We're providing a little bulletin insert this Lent about self-examination. Looking at our lives, examining them for sin, in light of the 10 commandments. And a close look reveals much sin. A closer look reveals even more. We're full of wickedness. Like Luther said, “a bag of worms We are the “them” in the “us and them”. And our destiny is destruction. That is, without Christ....

And here's the wonderful paradox, the grand mystery of salvation. To all outward eyes, and to all close examination, there is no difference between us and them, between sinner and saint. The murderer and the holy man are the same - both fall short of God's glory.

But in Christ, the reality changes. In Christ, enemies become friends. In Christ, the wicked are righteous, the foolish become wise, and even the Pharisee becomes a disciple. Though our sins are as scarlet they are made white as snow. Though our body dies and rots and the memory of us fades, we who are in Christ are alive and well and eternally at peace. Our “lowly bodies” become like his “glorious body”

The “us” of the Holy Christian Church is a great place to be. The “us” of the body of Christ, the bride of Christ. There is a mystic sweet communion that we enjoy as members of this body. We are one with Christ, and one with each other. There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female. We are all the same sinners, rotten to the core. Saints forgiven by the blood of the spotless lamb. And in that blessed unity we marvel and wonder.

The only reason “us and them” remains this side of heaven, is because sin still lingers. Though forgiven, though renewed and recreated we still contend with the Old Adam. Our sinful nature, the flesh it's still a part of us. But it's not the ultimate reality.

We are citizens of Heaven. So let's live like who we know we are. Let's take the encouragement of Paul and walk in his example, and in the example of so many faithful before us. That example is one of lifelong repentance of total dependence on the mercy of God in Christ. And yes, it is also an example of good works.... but works of love that flow from faith.

We sing the national anthem at the ball game. We get a little weepy when we see the U.S. Athlete win the gold, and they hang our flag, and play our song. We are citizens of this nation, and they are on our team. We're a part of that. They are “us”.

So let's also rejoice in those saints who have already won the victory, those citizens of heaven who've already set foot on its shores. Let's turn our eyes to that horizon, and eagerly hope for that day when we too join in the new song of eternity, when we receive the crown of righteousness. Let's stand firm all of us in Christ, who makes us one with himself and each other.

Answering the Word with the Word

An interesting insight from the sermon I heard at Pr. Roemke's church this weekend. Preaching on Christ's temptation, he said something like, "When the Devil uses God's Word for his purposes, Jesus answers with God's Word."

We have a hermeneutical principle here! Scripture interprets Scripture! But there's more...

The Devil certainly knows God's Word and uses, or rather, misuses it. One way in which he misuses it is to apply further Law to the penitent, driving him to further despair. Heaping accusations on the guilty, the shame-filled sinner - "Satan" means "Accuser", after all.

Luther experienced this keenly. He personalized his struggle with sin as a struggle with Satan himself. But Jesus stands ready with that other word - of Gospel. The antidote to the devil's barbs and darts of doubt. He speaks to us a different word - a word which puts all accusations away. He reminds us he's paid the price, and our sin is no more.

Does the Devil also misapply the Gospel? Surely so! To those secure in their sins, he gives a "Jesus loves you" pat on the back. What better deception than to bulwark the impenitence of a sinner than by using God's own word to do it!?

And like he tempts Jesus, "doesn't the Word promise, 'you will not strike your foot against a stone?", he also tempts us to believe - inappropriately - in the promises of God. "The threats of the Law don't apply to you, sinner. You will not die."

We understand the proper use of Law and Gospel: The Law for secure sinners. The Gospel for penitent sinners. But Satan, an expert in twisting the Word, must also be an expert in twisting Law and Gospel.

BRTFSSG Clearinghouse

Thanks to Scott Diekmann for putting together a clearinghouse type list of numerous blog posts about the LCMS proposed restructuring: http://stand-firm.blogspot.com/2010/02/blue-ribbon-task-force-on-synod.html

"Casual" Isn't Always Better

If "Casual Fridays" can be taken too far in the workplace - what about the worship-place?

Numerous churches tout their casual or informal worship services, designed to make people more comfortable and at ease. But it's more than casual clothing, it's a casual approach toward God. It's symptomatic of our American culture, but it's not compatible with Lutheran theology.

"Casual worship" sends the wrong message, that sin is no big deal. It also fails to confess well God's presence. As a pastor friend of mine said, "act like God's in the room, because he is!"

Isaiah trembled in fear in the presence of God, "woe to me, I am ruined!" God's presence, his holiness, should first of all make us sinners uncomfortable. I suspect most of us would feel more uneasy in the presence of a famous person than the Lord of Creation.

Where's the awareness of our sin? Adam and Eve sought to hide their shame with fig leaves. But God provided the covering for them. We may seek to hide our shame and imperfections, but God provides all the covering we need in Christ.

Even so, that doesn't mean we should treat God lightly, or casually. Forgiveness doesn't mean we should no longer fear God. We are still the creature, and he the creator. We are still the beggars, pleading for our very lives and trusting in his mercy.

I'm reminded of something Pastor Petersen said once...

There are those among us who think the Gospel is best or most fully expressed as a casual, comfortable relationship with God. For them the resurrection of Jesus Christ means no fussiness, no solemnity, no seriousness, or formality. It is not enough that Jesus is your friend, He must be your bosom buddy. He is the kind of God you could go fishing with. It'd be okay if you hadn't showered and smelled like fish, if you wiped you nose on your sleeve. If you belched He'd laugh. He is the kind of God who likes greasy snack foods and licks His fingers. It is not really the Gospel for these people unless you can say: "Hey, Jesus, pull my finger." For them He is the kind of God you can tease. He understands. That is why they're always telling us He has a sense of humor (His sense, by the way, is always the same as theirs.) The bottom line though is that they find nothing to be afraid of in their God. They do not mean to be disrespectful. It is simply that they are completely and utterly comfortable with Him. It is this theology that creates casualness and unpreparedness in those who lead worship. They are sloppy on purpose. They want to show there is nothing to be uptight or worried about.

Sermon - Epiphany 5 - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a

1 Corinthians 13:4-8a
Epiphany 5
February 7th, 2009
“Who Loves Like That?”

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.


Our sermon today is based on last Sunday's Epistle reading. It's one of the better know passages of the Bible. It's read at countless weddings, hangs on the wall in many Christian homes. It's a favorite of Christians, and for good reason. Love is a great idea. In fact, when all is said and done, when everything else passes away, faith, hope and love remain, but the greatest of these is love.

A shallow and sappy look at the passage may give us a warm fuzzy. Extolling the virtues of love is to Christians what motherhood and apple pie mean to Americans. We even have a holiday in next Sunday which is all about the high ideal of love. Maybe we shouldn't call it Valentine's Day anymore, since no one remembers the Christian St. Valentine. Perhaps “Love Day” would be a better name for how it's celebrated in our culture.

Sure, love is great. But do we just give love a respectful nod and move on? Or do we approach this passage like Lutherans do, looking for law and gospel? And how do we see Jesus in connection to these words of Paul about love?

First, let's remember the Bible uses different words for love. Eros, which is erotic or romantic love between a man and woman. Platonic love - Philos, like Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. And then there's Agape. Agape is that unique form of Christian love, a self-sacrificing love that is the real aim of Christians. It's this kind of love Paul means in 1 Corinthians.

And as grand and beautiful as Paul's passage about love is, it sets a high bar. In fact, it should leave us asking the question of ourselves, “who loves like this?”

We should look first at ourselves.

Am I patient? Not really. I often lose my patience with my family and friends. I want things to happen on my timetable, and no one else's. If someone else puts me out, makes me wait, then it annoys me. And my impatience is really a form of selfishness. I want it my way, and I don't want to sacrifice my time for someone else.

Am I kind? All too often, I am not. I say words that hurt others. I am insensitive and unkind. I could do a better job.

Am I envious? Or do I grow jealous when someone else gets something nice, receives some blessing, that I think I deserve more? And such envy can lead me to resent my neighbor. That's not loving.

Do I boast? We don't mind other people appreciating us, so why not tell them why they should?

Insisting on my own way. My way or the highway. So common of us sinners. Irritable and resentful, especially when we don't get our way. Arrogant and rude.

And do we rejoice at wrong-doing? Rationalizing what is evil into what is good?

Rejoicing in the truth? My truth, of course. As if what is true is up to me. As if everyone can have their own truth. Or perhaps we admit the truth but only grudgingly. Rejoicing in truth? That'll depend on if it's a truth I want to hear.

Love bears all things, but I don't. Love believes all things, but I doubt. Love hopes all things, but I lose hope. Love endures all things, but I give up.

When it comes to love – self-sacrificing, agape love, we must admit we are not all that loving. In fact the standard of love that Paul sets is an impossible one for us sinners to meet. It's a pie-in-the-sky picture of love, the ideal but not the reality. For after all, who loves like that? Certainly not me. Certainly not you.

But Jesus does. Read the passage again. All those things that love is, Jesus is. All those things that love does, Jesus does. He is patient and kind – with us. He is not envious or boastful for himself. He isn't arrogant or rude. He doesn't even insist on his own way, but submits to his Father's will. He doesn't force us either, when it comes to his love, but calls, invites, encourages.

He certainly doesn't rejoice at wrongdoing, and certainly does rejoice in truth.

And he endures all things. Now there's a truth. Think of all our loving savior endured for us – humiliation – poverty, disgrace, grief, ridicule, injustice, betrayal, flogging, desertion, crucifixion. He even endured the very wrath of God over sin, for you.

No greater love, no greater agape, does anyone have than this, laying down his love for another. Jesus loves you. He loves with with a self-sacrificing love, a perfect love, that meets and exceeds all our standards of love. He loves you with a love that isn't mere emotion, or sappy sentimentality. His love acts, his love accomplishes.

And his love never ends. It didn't end with his death – for death could not hold him. It didn't end when he ascended, for he promises, “I am with you always even to the end of the age”. And even at the end of the age, his love never ends. For he prepares a place for us with his Father forever.

Love is.. many things. And the love of sinners like you and me – it often fails. It's not a very loving love. But Jesus shows true and perfect love to us all, an eternal, incomprehensible love. A love from the beginning of creation, a love shown perfectly in the cross, a love with an eternal promise.

So rejoice in his love, you forgiven sinners. And show his love to each other, as he has first loved you. Amen.

Sermon - Epiphany 4 - Luke 4:31-44

Luke 4:31-44
Epiphany 4
January 31, 2009
“The Holy One of God”

Our Epiphany season continues to present us with Gospel readings that answer the question, “Who is Jesus?” Last week we saw him as the true Bridegroom. Before that, the Savior, the Son of God, the King of the Jews. Today in the synagogue, we have an unusual voice confessing Jesus true identity. A demon cries out, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God!” And it's true. From the lying mouth of a unclean spirit comes a confession of truth. Jesus is the Holy One of God.

That's not all that's happening in our Gospel today. That's not all the demon said. And it's not all we have to learn about who Jesus is and what he does. Let's look a little closer at the Holy One of God and what today's reading means for our faith today.

One might take this encounter with the demon and conclude that it simply demonstrates Jesus sovereign power over evil. And surely he has that. But it is a miracle which is more than just flexing his divine muscles. Here he shows his authority. Just as he rebukes the fever in Peter's mother-in-law. Just as he commands water to become wine, hushes the storm, feeds the multitudes, and heals so many. In all his miracles Jesus is doing more than simply displaying his omnipotent command of creation. He shows his authority to demonstrate his identity. He shows his authority over these things, also to show his authority over spiritual things.

For which is it easier to say, “get up and walk” or, “your sins are forgiven”? Jesus who has the very power of God is most interested in using that power for your good. And not just your physical good, but first of all for your spiritual good! The best thing he does for you is to make you clean, washing away your sins. This brings you “every spiritual blessing” - the good news!

Notice his purpose statement: “I must preach the good news, for that is why I have come!” Not to hand out prizes. Not to heal, do miracles, or even cast out demons. All those he does, and can do.. but not just that! He came to work salvation and bring us the highest and grandest gifts of God.

But we're so often focused on the things below. Life's little molehills that to us appear as mountains. Sickness, conflict, things simply not going your way. All of this results from sin, of course. All of this is part of the program living in this fallen world. But the solution isn't just to treat the symptom. Instead, Jesus goes to the source. That's who Jesus is. That's what he came to do.

While the demon spoke truth, he also tried to deceive. As the devil does so often, he laces his lies with truth, to make them harder to see. He twists God's word. He seeks to use it against us. Some of Satan's most destructive lies come from the mouths of so-called Christian preachers. Even here, Jesus meets evil head-on in the synagogue, the place of worship.

So what was the deception? That Jesus was a Messiah to be feared? Well, yes and no. Did Jesus come to destroy? Yes and no. Like Jeremiah the prophet, in our Old Testament reading, Jesus comes to pluck up and knock down, but also to build and to plant. He does come to destroy, but also to give life.

As usual, a right understanding of this comes from the proper division of law and gospel. The demon was rightly terrified of Jesus, who indeed came to destroy him, and all the devil's kingdom, and their hold over humans. Jesus came to destroy sin, death, and the devil – all our spiritual enemies. For we do not contend against flesh and blood, Paul reminds us, but against the spiritual forces of evil.

And even our own sinful self, our old nature, our old Adam, is slated for demolition. Jesus has come to destroy that within us that is corrupt and wicked and rebellious, and by repentance and faith build us anew into the men and women God wants us to be – perfect and blameless in his sight. Redeemed by Christ's blood shed on the cross. Inheritors of life, now and in eternity.

Jesus is a destroyer, a judge, the Holy One of God to be feared only if you are under the law and God's wrath. But he is also the friend of sinners – the shepherd who lays day his life for his sheep. He is the advocate and intercessor, the great high priest, and so much more. Jesus is the good news that he preached. The Gospel is all about him and what he does to save us.

The devils and demons don't want you to know it, or believe it. They want you to fear Jesus, if you think of him at all. They want you to get it turned around. They don't want you to see him as savior, but yourself. And they don't want you to have the comfort of trusting in his grace.

But Jesus silences that. He rebukes all that.

And his Holy Spirit speaks, even today, a different word. A word with authority from Christ himself, who sits on heaven's high throne. You who know and feel sorry for sin, you who have heard the call to repentance and fallen on your knees. Fear not. Jesus comes to destroy only what troubles you – sin and every evil. Jesus comes to foil every plot of the devil. Jesus, the Holy One of God comes to make you holy by his holy, precious blood, and declare it in his strong word. We know who he is – by what he says and does for us. In his name, Amen.

What's a Congregation to Do?

What's a Congregation to Do?

Reflections on the mission and ministry of the local congregation
Rev. Tom Chryst - Elders' Retreat January 2010

Every congregation offers worship services on Sunday. Most every congregation has a pastor leading them. Baptisms, funerals, weddings, confirmations. Usually there's some kind of Bible study. But then what?

Some congregations run a soup kitchen. Others have a school. Some have a radio or TV ministry, or an ethnic outreach. There's braille workers and quilters and seniors groups and grief support groups. Stephen ministries and youth retreats, homeless shelters and neighborhood canvassing. There's any number of programs, events and social gatherings that happen on a regular or irregular basis.

With so many possibilities, someone in congregational leadership might be led to wonder, “what's a congregation to do?” In other words, besides having church on Sunday, how does a congregation decide how and where to spend its time, talents and treasures?

Especially when a congregation is at a crossroads, I contend that it's well worth it for the leaders to intentionally think these things through. Rather than haphazardly doing things in a random fashion, or always doing what we have always done, isn't it better to come to a well-reasoned plan for how a congregation will choose its course?

First, let's consider what Scripture teaches about the purpose of the local congregation. Acts 2:42 gives us a basic outline, “and they devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers”. This suggests that the gathered believers of Christ are to:

1)be devoted to doctrine
2)devoted to fellowship (sharing what they had in common – several aspects to this)
3)breaking of bread – Lutherans have understood this to include the sacrament
4)the prayers – suggesting a formal order of worship

These four priorities are covered nicely in our “Sunday Morning” routine. So far so good. Acts 2 goes on to talk about how the early Christians cared for each other, even going so far as communal living – sharing all possessions. This indicates another purpose of the congregation:
1.to care for one another

Matthew 28, the Great Commission, Jesus instructs his Apostles and the Church to “Make disciples of all nations” by baptizing and teaching. “Baptizing and teaching” is another handy summary of what we Lutherans call “Word and Sacrament Ministry”.

Surely we could add to the list, based on the example of the New Testament church. But the fact remains, nowhere does Scripture give us detailed instructions for the local congregation (like it does, for instance, when it comes to the construction and usage of the Tabernacle). It certainly teaches the centrality of the Word and the sacraments, but allows for broad freedom beyond this. So what's a church to do?

Let me suggest the following simple framework for deciding what to do:

Things you need to do:

Those things you simply have to have, in order to do “Word and Sacrament” ministry. For instance: Pay the pastor. Order communion supplies. Have a building with heat and lights. Collect offering. Some of this will vary from situation to situation, but these are the “no-brainers”.

Things someone else has a need for:

Needs vary greatly from place to place. Socio-economic, demographic, geographic factors all come into play. This is a matter of knowing what people need – both in and out of the church. There are all kinds of resources to help determine these things, but a common sense observation of the conditions isn't such a bad place to start.

Things you are good at:

Each congregation is blessed with people having different and diverse talents. Why not play to your strengths and do what you are best at? I think of a nearby Hispanic congregation that holds a taco dinner fund raiser. They need funds, and they make good tacos. Pretty simple. Does your congregation have people who are talented in education? Finance? Art? Cooking? Cleaning? Organizing? Or something else? This is a matter of managing the talents God gives us (stewardship).

Things you want to do:

It's a whole lot easier to do something you want to do, than something you don't. If your congregation likes to get their hands dirty, then maybe a community rehab project or a soup kitchen is right for you. If you want to work with children, then maybe a school or daycare. If you want to concentrate on music ministry or some other focus area – it will always be easier to do if the people are interested. We shouldn't feel bad about doing those things that we, as a congregation, simply want to do. As long as we are not sinning, and as long as we are keeping in mind our main purpose, there's no reason we can't choose from the panoply of options and find our own comfort zone. A caution: This can be taken too far, and if a congregation is too comfortable they will likely NOT be fulfilling their full potential for service and mission work.

If you can find an ideal combination of these four factors, you may have found what you (or your congregation) should be doing!

Also, as you are deciding “what to do”, ask questions along the way, which evaluate a proposed plan or activity:

Does it serve the Gospel?
Generally, most things we do should have some connection to the main thing we're about. However it's not wrong to do something as a congregation “just for fun” or just to help people.

Is it good stewardship?
Money is always an issue. Remember it's God's money we're spending. He calls us to do so wisely. Still, many things worth doing are costly. Jesus tells us to consider the cost of discipleship, but still wants us to be disciples! Don't let money stop us from doing good for the kingdom. (Discussion – how to decide how much we spend on aesthetics vs. functionality?)

What are others doing?
Have others succeeded or failed, and why?
Are others nearby doing the same? Would we be stepping on toes, or helping them?

What witness would it give?
Remember what a congregation does is seen by those within and without. Even non-believers will take note of the good a congregation accomplishes. Are there other projects or events that might give the wrong impression?

Would this offend someone needlessly?
I'm not saying compromise our beliefs in any way to avoid ruffling feathers. But simply to consider our neighbors – community and other congregations, for instance – and how our actions affect them too.


Some final thoughts:

Be careful to avoid acting only in your congregation's “best interests”. Perhaps balancing “internal” and “external” projects is a healthier approach to consider.

Avoid major projects which have the support of only a small number of people, or only one individual. Even the pastor shouldn't decide by himself the overall course a congregation will take.

Remember there are always unintended consequences. Try to think them through.

In those things which are not central, it's ok to fail! I once had a frustrated member bring me a list of all the projects we had tried that “failed”. While working in and for a congregation can be frustrating, there's no guarantee of “success” in everything we do.



Questions for discussion:

What are some of the advantages of carefully evaluating a new plan or program or activity in the life of the congregation?


When should these kinds of discussions and evaluations take place?


Who should do them?


How has your congregation made decisions in the past, and how has it worked out?

Issues Etc. Roundtable - The Church

Once again I participated in a Pastors' Round Table segment on Issues, Etc. Lutheran radio program. With Pastors Nebel and Walther, we discussed the Apology of the Augsburg Confession: The Church

You can listen to the entire hour for free, now or later, by clicking here:

http://www.issuesetc.org/podcast/409012110H1p.mp3

Sermon - Epiphany 3 - Luke 4:16-30

Luke 4:16-30
Epiphany 3
January 24, 2009
“The Hometown Preacher”

As a preacher, it's always good to take note of how and what Jesus preaches. In our Gospel reading today, we have Jesus attending the weekly worship gathering on the synagogue. Much like our practice of church on Sunday, those gathered would have an appointed reading from Scripture, followed by a Rabbai or teacher, or in our case, pastor, explaining and proclaiming it. So Jesus was the guest preacher that day in his hometown of Nazareth.

They had seen him grow up as Joseph and Mary's son, probably had some tables and chairs from his carpenter's shop. They knew his family. Little Jesus, all grown up, and now a famous preacher. He'd been making quite a name for himself with his miracles and messages in Capernaum – the nearest big city. Now they had a chance to hear the hometown hero. Perhaps it was Nazareth pride that made them speak so well of him. But... the sermon didn't go so well.

It started out with Jesus preaching about a passage from Isaiah, which clearly predicts the coming Messiah. He states very simply, very boldly, “today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing”. And this striking claim seems to fly right over their heads! Jesus is basically claiming to be the Messiah! He says, “hey, I am the guy. I'm the one Isaiah is speaking about here. When he predicts the one who would come to preach good news and proclaim freedom, the one anointed by the Spirit. That's me!”. But they are not even phased. Instead they continued to speak well of him and marvel. It doesn't seem they were even listening to his words.

Perhaps their hearts weren't ready for such good news. So it is with many today. You can sit in church for years, and though the preacher preaches till he's blue in the face, never really “get” the Gospel. Some of us here today, probably also, have a fuzzy picture at best of who Jesus is. Is he the one and only Savior from sin? Or is he the one who sets the example for us to follow? Is it what would Jesus do, or what did Jesus do for me that is most important? Is the answer to my problem of sin the grace of God in Christ? Or should I just try harder to be a better person and sin less?

We preach, like Jesus preached, that Salvation is a free gift of God alone. And yet it's so hard to hear. It's so difficult to believe.
So Jesus shakes them up. He preaches some law. He says something that gets their goat. He pulls out some history.

Back in the time of Elijah and Elisha, the people of Israel had largely turned away from the true God. So these prophets, partly as a testimony against such unfaithfulness, were sent to foreigners and outsiders. The widow and Zarepheth and Namaan the Syrian. To his hometown crowd of Nazareth, who thought themselves insiders to God because they were Jews, insiders to Jesus because they were from his hometown.... Jesus shoots that all down. Because they reject him, the Gospel will be offered to others. Because they refuse to hear, they will be shamed by outsiders who receive Jesus in thanks.

And really, he's poking holes in their pride. He's exposing them for their hardened hearts. They were not listening to him to really hear what he had to say, and so they were offended. Especially when he began to compare them to those lousy gentiles. They were about to push him off the cliff and probably stone him as a false teacher! But it just proved Jesus' words all the more true.

We too, don't like to hear what we don't like to hear. When your pastor stands here and tells you what scripture says about your sin, it's not supposed to be a kind word. The law offends us. It's an assault on your sinful pride, your false sense of righteousness. But before you try to stone the preacher or push him off the cliff, remember this is God's word of Law. This is a slap in the face we need to experience.

And even when Jesus himself speaks, preaches, teaches – some will reject. They did then, and they do today. But to him who has ears to hear – the message gets through. When the law breaks us into pieces and leaves us a quivering pile of guilt and shame. Then Jesus has another word. Then he has good news.

He is the chosen one, the Messiah, anointed to preach good news to the poor. And the good news is this: that he has died for your sins, that he has taken your guilt and shame. That all your sinful pride and self-righteousness are forgiven by his work for you. His death on the cross pays the price of freedom for us who are slaves to sin, and our newfound liberty in him is reason to rejoice.

Today, here 200 years later, Isaiah is fulfilled yet again. As Jesus' good news comes to people who need to hear it. As his word is proclaimed, as his gifts are freely given. The Spirit of the Lord works faith through his Word, gives and strengthens our faith, and assures us of the blessings of salvation through Jesus Christ. Today, in Jesus, what is written is real and sure and true.

Does it offend you? It should. Does it give you comfort? It should. For Jesus the guest preacher is still speaking, still calling sinners to repentance and faith. The Spirit is still working in devious ways to open our eyes and ears to see and hear this Jesus, this great Teacher, this anointed one – whose word is worth hearing and believing.

Sermon - Epiphany 2 - John 2:1-11

John 2:1-11
Epiphany 2
January 17, 2009
“The REAL Bridegroom”

Jesus first miracle seems unplanned. It happened at a wedding, at the request of his mother. There was no pressing need, except the possible embarassment of a host that hadn't planned for enough wedding guests. One commentator (Bo Giertz) describes it this way:

...Let us ponder the reason behind Jesus' miracle: a small irritating mishap threatening a respectable Galilean family with great shame. This Sunday in the Church Year used to be called "Home Sunday" because it emphasized Jesus' relationship to our home life and how we immediately see what Jesus has to do in our homes. He is there--even during the trivial annoyances of everyday life. Christ descended into our everyday life when He became man. This is how He really shows us who He is. His glory is revealed to us not only on the Mount of Transfiguration, but as a helper and a friend at the very center of every day's prosaic reality.

Rightly understood, however, we see our Lord God as providing all the wine and food for every banquet, all the daily bread of life. So is it really a surprise that Jesus would tend to such an important detail?

But the significance of this miracle is even deeper, as it serves to help answer our Epiphany question, “who is this Jesus?”. We've already heard with the Wise Men that he is the one born King of the Jews. The angels announced him as “A savior, Christ the Lord”. God himself adds to the growing picture at Jesus baptism, “This is my Son, with whom I am well pleased”. And now this little miracle at the beginning of his ministry gives us another picture and pointer of Christ's identity. He is the true Bridegroom.

After all, it was the bridegroom at the wedding that was responsible to take care of the guests. Here Jesus, by providing the best wine himself, shows that he is the True Bridegroom, even if it wasn't his wedding.

Scripture, even from the Old Testament, uses the metaphor of marriage to teach us our relationship with God. In Jeremiah 31, God laments that the people “broke my covenant with them, though I was a husband to them”. The nation of Israel as a whole, and the individual sinners within it are described as adulterous. They pollute and disdain the true and proper relationship to God by following after and “having affairs” if you will with all sorts of false gods.

And we are no different. Our sins, of commission and omission, of thought, word, and deed, are a turning away from the true Bridegroom to some other, lesser, lover. When we, the bride of Christ, his church, do anything other than His will, we break the marriage bond and adulterate ourselves, and our relationship with him. When we, as a body, or as individual members of the body, do what we know is wrong, we forsake and divorce ourselves from him – it's a terrifying place to be.

But he is a forgiving husband, a loving bridegroom. His patience surpasses any human husband, his love is greater and deeper. He lays down his life on the cross to save the marriage, to save his people forevermore. He takes us back, time and again, with a forgiveness that is hard to imagine. Calling us to turn away from our false loves, and receive him our true love, according to his grace.

Our bridegroom, Jesus. He asks his mother, “why do you involve me, my time is not yet come?” But he responds to the requests and needs of his people.

His hour of glory was still on the horizon – his glorification at the cross, and his final coming in glory. But here in his first sign Jesus points forward to other miracles to come, and to the final feast of celebration at the consummation of all things.

The feast – we sing about it. “This is the feast of victory for our God”. We pray about it, “a foretaste of the feast to come” the “marriage feast of the Lamb in his kingdom which shall have no end”. We look forward to that day, that final day, at his second coming, when the Bridegroom brings all things together and fulfills his plan. When the dead are raised, and his people are judged righteous on account of him. When we enter into our eternal rest and celebrate the final victory.

Revelation gives us a picture of the final bride – the holy city of Jerusalem – adorned for that celebration. It stands in contrast to Eve, the first bride – who was ashamed of her sin and nakedness. The final bride – the entirety of God's people – we are adorned with the very glory of God.

So today, like every Sunday, we celebrate the wedding. We have a foretaste of the feast to come. And the Bridegroom who provided the wine at Cana, provides the bread and wine at the altar. The same Jesus who in miraculous fashion caused the creation of the best wine – he causes, by his word, the sacramental reality of his presence for our blessing. His true blood and true body, here for us. Not for our mundane needs, but to rid us of guilt and shame and sin. His feast for his people, his love for his bride.

Turning water into wine is a mighty wonder. But forgiving our sins is the greater miracle. As you come to the feast today – all you who hunger and thirst for righteousness – bring your infidelities and unfaithfulness, and receive his everlasting forgiveness, his eternal life, and his sure salvation. He is the true bridegroom, and we are his true bride forever. In Jesus Christ, Amen.

Sermon - The Baptism of Our Lord - Luke 2:21-22

Luke 2:21-22
The Baptism of Our Lord
January 10, 2009
“Baptized for You”

Short of his death and resurrection, it has been suggested that Jesus' baptism is the most important event in his work for us. You could argue that, of course. For everything Jesus does for us is important.

But at least we can say this. His baptism was very significant. There's a reason that the entire Godhead is on display – The Father in the voice from heaven. The Spirit descending like a dove. And the Son, on center stage, the Beloved Son, with whom God is well pleased. There is deep significance to this public declaration, this inauguration of Jesus' preaching ministry. In word and deed, what Jesus does should be marked and studied and pondered.

Not only is this event important for theology and for our study and understanding of Christ. When Jesus is baptized, it makes a difference to you – it is for you. So let's pay attention here to what's going on in the Jordan river.

Every Sunday School child knows baptism washes away our sins. But we also know that Jesus didn't sin. So his baptism presents us with a puzzle. And in working out the answer, we see a great blessing in Christ's baptism for us.

We do know this. That we are sinners. And we need baptism. We know very well the filth and dirt that cling to us. When we hear the accusations of God's law, we admit we deserve his punishment. For we don't like the reproval any more than Herod, who locked up John the Baptist. We get more than uncomfortable when someone reminds us, shows us our sin. But we can either rebuff the accusation – silence it, ignore it, rationalize it.... or we can fall down in repentance and beg for God's forgiveness.

God calls us to repent. And God has good news for us when we do. He provides ways for us to receive his grace. And one of those is Holy Baptism.

At the font of baptism, we enter the church and become part of God's family. We receive the gift of faith, forgiveness of our sins, life and salvation in those baptismal waters. What a flood of blessings! But it's not just a one-time-thing, either.
We believe that baptism is a daily blessing to the Christian, as each day we drown our sinful self in repentance and faith, always turning to Christ for forgiveness. Arising to live with him and for him and in him each day.

And we know that Jesus death is why we are forgiven. Because at the cross he bore our sins, took our punishment, and made everything right between us and God again. He took our place on the cross. But he took our place long before that.

Here in his baptism Jesus first publicly shows his ID card. He is the Son of God, the savior. As John says, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. He takes them away, because he takes them on himself. And that's why he is baptized. It's not his own sins he took into the Jordan River, but ours. It's not for himself that he is baptized, but for us.

And even as he takes something away, he gives something in return. Our sins are gone. Our punishment is gone. And in return, he gives us his own righteousness. He gives us God's approval. So when God says of Jesus, “with him I am well pleased”, we should also hear, “with you, my child, I am well pleased”. Jesus takes our place as a sinner, and he gives us his place as a child of God forever.

The great exchange. This is what Jesus does for us. But there is more.

Remember back in the Garden of Eden, when our first parents sinned and were sent away? God barred the gate to Eden's paradise. He set an angel with a flaming sword to stand guard, so man could not return to his idyllic home. Paradise was closed. But in Jesus baptism, “the heavens are opened”. Paradise, access to God is available once again, through Christ. Just as Jesus could offer the promise of paradise restored to the thief on the cross, “today you will be with me in paradise”. So does Jesus procure the same for us his people. When you are baptized, paradise is yours. Heaven is opened to you. It's a present possession that one day you will enjoy in full.

It's even significant that he is baptized in the Jordan – the river that is the threshold, the border to the promised land. In Christ, we enter the promised land of God's kingdom, through our baptism.

But there's still more. As the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus, so does the Holy Spirit descend on us. We don't see the dove come down at Christian baptisms. But by faith, we do. We believe what Scripture teaches – that in Baptism the Spirit is ours, lives within us, guides and directs us and sanctifies us wholly. And the Spirit testifies to Christ, points us, leads us, again and again to Christ and to his cross for our comfort and peace.

And we don't hear the thunderous voice of the Father's approval at our baptism. But by faith, we do. We know the promises of Jesus, that no one can come to the Father but by him, Jesus. And that he and the Father are one. And that he prepares a place for us in the Father's house. And that “he who receives me, receives the Father who sent me.”

Yes, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, God's own Son... becomes one of us. He takes our place, as he wades into the water, as he drowns our sins there. And as comes up, he brings us with him. He takes our place on the cross. And as he rises from death, he brings us with him. And as he ascends to heaven, he will come back to take us home with him.

Just as everything he does is for you, Jesus was baptized for you. You are baptized in him, and awash in blessings now and forevermore through him. And with you, God is well pleased!

Amen.

Sermon - New Year's Eve - Ecclesiastes 1:9-10

Ecclesiastes 1:9-10
New Year's Eve
December 31, 2009
“Nothing New”

What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done,
and there is nothing new under the sun.

Is there a thing of which it is said,
“See, this is new”?
It has been already
in the ages before us.

You might think it strange to hear this passage on a New Year's Eve. Ecclesiastes isn't the most upbeat book of the Bible. Solomon's voice and tone here are less than bubbly... downright depressing, really. “All is vanity” he preaches. Everything is pointless. And it's all been done before. There is nothing new under the sun. Nothing he hasn't seen or heard. Even he, Solomon, with all his great wisdom, is not impressed by anything. If anything, he's become jaded about this world and what it has to offer. It's the same old, same old, same old. Nothing changes. It's always the same.

He talks about all the pleasures he has sought and experienced, and how they leave him empty. Self-indulgence, Hard work, gold and silver, gardens, wealth and honor, slaves, a full stomach, wine, women and song. None of it held meaning for him, this old king looking back on his life.

Tonight we look back on another year of our lives. And we may find some milestones and events to remember. For good or bad, much has happened in this last circle around the sun. Maybe you've lost a job, or gotten a new one. Maybe you've fallen in love, or seen a relationship fall apart. Have you seen the birth of a child or the death of a loved one? Had health problems, faith problems, or some other problems worth remembering or forgetting? It's only natural as we turn the calendar to take stock of the past year and what it's meant.

Solomon, at the end of many years, offers a word of wisdom: it all means nothing. It's all vanity. Emptiness. Pointless.

What does he mean? Perhaps that in the grand scheme of things, there is nothing much different about his life than your life, or anyone's life here on earth. There is nothing new under the sun. It's always the same.

We are conceived and born in sin. We grow up, eat and drink and marry and work. We live our lives for the pleasures we can find, but none of it satisfies us, ultimately. It's all corrupted by sin. It's all shy of perfect, less than fulfilling.

Sure, you might have those “snapshot moments” in life. A time of great joy you try to remember, and maybe by rehearsing it – burn it into your brain. But even those moments are bittersweet – for they don't last. Soon it's on to the next grief and trouble of life. Life in this world, viewed honestly, is really pointless.

Unless. Unless there is more...

As depressing as Solomon's wisdom is in Ecclesiastes, he gives us some hope. He also says, “I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him.”

Through all his moaning and groaning about the futility of this life, Solomon still sees there is more on the horizon. He knows there is something deeper that God has planned. Hints and glimmers of the hidden wisdom of God poking through the clouds of a gloomy day-to-day existence.

There is nothing new under the sun.... for us, from us. But from God there is something new, different, and worth our attention. Something that does last forever. There is news – good news – from God. And it begins with a child born unto us in Bethlehem.

Jesus Christ is the only antidote to the vanity of this life. He is something new under the sun. A human being who can perfectly fulfill the law. A sacrificial Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. The one who lays down his life for his friends, even for his enemies. He is something totally other, totally different, totally new, and entirely not of this world.

For he is not under the sun, but as Lord of creation he sits over it. He is the one who gives light to light. He is the one who gives new life to the dead. He is the one who makes the Old Adam the New Adam. He makes us a New Creation. “Behold” he says, “I make all things new!” For at his second coming he do away with this corrupted creation, and bring forth new heaven and earth. And his redeemed people there will sing him a new song!

In Jesus Christ, God is always working for renewal. In our baptism we have the washing of rebirth and renewal. In the Lord's Supper we receive forgiveness, new life and salvation.

And though what he brings us is good news, he never changes. He's the same yesterday, today and forever. And all the while the story never changes. The sermon is always the same. You are always a sinner, and Christ is always the Savior from sin by his death on the cross. But that message is always news to me and you.

Whatever your year has been like, whatever sorrows or joys it has seen, however you will remember 2009 (or maybe you'd like to just forget it). As we look forward to 2010 and beyond, we rejoice in the good news of Jesus Christ, who brings meaning and hope and promises untold to the vanity of this life. Keep your eyes on the horizon, and keep your faith and trust in him. Amen.