Homily for Thanksgiving Day - 2019

"Luther's 'Take' on Thanksgiving Day"
Deuteronomy 8:1-10; 1 Timothy 2:1-4; Luke 17:11-19

You have to love Martin Luther’s “take” on Thanksgiving Day. Yes, I know that Luther lived and taught a whole century before the Pilgrims. Luther lived in Germany and never knew of Pilgrims, a ship called Mayflower, or a Plymouth Colony. Yet he still does a wonderful job of teaching us how best to celebrate this day—in his Catechism, that is.

We live in a day when college professors and students spurn Thanksgiving Day. They claim, wrongly, it commemorates a genocide of indigenous peoples, the Indians. We live in a day when many seek their comfort and daily bread by embracing the common sharing of economic goods, that system called Socialism. Why labor, toil and achieve if everyone gets the same goodies no matter what, the thinking goes.

Actually, the Pilgrims did try that experiment. Their original contract called for everything they produced to go into a common store. Each member of the community, then, would get a common share. Everything belonged to the community. That arrangement did not work out so well, especially after the first harsh winter and losing so many lives. So William Bradford assigned a plot of land for each family to own, work, and manage. As they realized God’s gifts of private property and possessions, the Pilgrims had plenty to support themselves, pay off their debts, and share with those in need. They even sold food and goods to the Indians, and thus the original thanksgiving dinner was born.

Thankfully, we continue to practice what George Washington proclaimed in 1789—a day “to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor.” Washington also called this “a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God” (Thanksgiving Proclamation, 3 October 1789).

Let’s do this not only in a national and cultural manner; let’s especially do this as God’s redeemed children. Let’s look to Luther’s Catechism for his “take” on Thanksgiving Day.

When you gather around the table today, do so reverently, fold your hands, and say: “The eyes of all look to You, [O Lord,] and You give them their food at the proper time. You open Your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing” (Ps. 145:15-16). All that food ultimately comes only from God. He has graciously arranged for you to purchase it from the stores, but it still comes only from Him.

Then you can pray the Lord’s Prayer, and follow that with this little prayer: “Lord God, heavenly Father, bless us and these your gifts which we receive from Your bountiful goodness, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.” Everything you eat, everything you wear, everything you own, everything about you—your eyes, ears, hair color, body structure and sexuality—it’s all gift. “What do you have that you did not receive?” (1 Cor. 4:7). On this day, we celebrate God our Father as the giver and rightly confess that we are nothing but receivers.

It’s what the Israelites learned through forty years in the wilderness. As they prepared to enter the Promised Land, Moses reminded them how things really worked. The Lord had led them those forty years in the wilderness; not they themselves. The Lord humbled them, testing them to know what was in their heart, whether they would trust Him and follow His ways. He made them “know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” (Dt. 8:3). Their clothing did not wear out. Their feet did not swell. All because the Lord God took care of them.

The Lord God also gave them promises. He would bring them into the good land—brooks and springs of water flowing; wheat, barley, vines, and fig trees aplenty; also olive trees and honey. They would eat without scarcity; they would not want, because the Lord is their Shepherd. And when they would eat and be full, Moses called on them  to “bless the LORD your God for the good land He has given you” (Dt. 8:10).

What was true for them, the children of Israel, is also true for you, God’s children by Jesus’ blood and Baptism. So when you finish the turkey and trimmings—and before you rush off to the couch for football and food comas—don’t forget to return thanks. Luther gives more guidance. Reverently and with folded hands say, “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good. His love endures forever. [He] gives food to every creature. He provides food for the cattle and young ravens when they call. His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor His delight in the legs of a man; the LORD delights in those who fear Him, who put their hope in His unfailing love” (Ps. 136:1, 25; 147:9-11).

And again you may pray the Lord’s Prayer and follow that up with this: “We thank you, Lord God, heavenly Father, for all Your benefits, through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.” What could be better than topping off a delicious Thanksgiving dinner with a sweet confession of the Holy Trinity, with confessing that all of this bounty comes only through Jesus Christ Himself!

That’s what the one leper realized on the way to see the priests, upon realizing he had been healed. Ten lepers were healed; nine went on their merry way; but only one “turned back, praising God with a loud voice” (Lk. 17:15). That former leper—a Samaritan, by the way—fell on his knees and bowed before Jesus, “giving Him thanks.” It’s what you do when you realize the true source of your blessings, the real Giver of every good and perfect gift.

And while you’re at it, don’t stop at giving thanks for common food and drink. Even the cattle, young ravens, and all critters large and small receive their sustenance from a gracious Father and Creator. You actually receive more. You receive only the best from your God and Savior. After all, He “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim. 2:4). Jesus, “true God, begotten of the  Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary” in the little town of Bethlehem—that means “house of bread”—He is your very Bread of Life. He has redeemed you. He has won you from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil. No, not with turkey or stuffing, “but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.” Now you are His own. Now you live under Him in His kingdom. Now you serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence and blessedness.

And this changes everything. This opens the flood-gates of thankfulness and praise. Now you know, confess and rejoice that Your God has given you your body and soul, your eyes, ears, and all your members, your reason and all your senses. He even takes care of them still. Yes, even with glasses, hearing aids, canes, and so on. Your clothing and shoes? Your food and drink? Your house and home? Your spouse, children and parents? All gifts…gifts from the Father…gifts made holy through Jesus and in the Spirit.

So go ahead, receive your day’s bread, turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and whatever else with thanksgiving. God certainly gives them and so much more to everyone without out prayers, even to all evil people. Thank Him for the money, the goods, for the devout husband or wife, the devout children, the devout workers, and even for devout and faithful rulers and good government—“that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Tim. 2:2). By the way, that’s the exact opposite of what you are tempted to do, and may even give in to doing, on social media these days. When you receive your daily bread with thanksgiving, that includes “kings and all who are in high positions.” When you do that, you are living as God’s dear children.

“Oh give thanks to the LORD, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever! Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom He has redeemed from trouble.” (Ps. 107:1-2). Amen.

Homily for Last Sunday of the Church Year - 2019

"Wise Virgins & the Bride of Christ"
Matthew 25:1-13

Jesus reminds us that this world is not home! Soon and very soon He will come again. At His coming all who have trusted in Him will enter with Him into the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom which will have no end.

Jesus says this coming reign of God will be like ten virgins who take their lamps to meet the eternal Bridegroom. These virgins look the same. They all have identical lamps. They appear to have the same purpose—to meet the bridegroom.

These ten virgins are all people who have ever been associated with the church on earth. They all hold membership in a congregation. They all attend Sunday services. They all do churchly things. They look the same to us, but on the day of Christ’s coming we will discover that they’re not all the same. Some are wise and some are foolish.

The foolish virgins are excluded from the marriage feast of the Lamb. They are excluded because, even though they had church membership, went to church on Sundays and did churchly things, they lacked faith in Jesus in their hearts.

St. Paul said it well: “Understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power” (2 Tim. 3:1-5). Sounds like headlines in your newspaper or news website of choice!

The “last days” are all the years between our Lord’s first coming and His second coming. In this time span, many hold the outward form of Christianity; many call themselves Christian. But they do not know the power of the Gospel. They do not trust only Christ for their life, their identity, their purpose, or their forgiveness.

These foolish ones hear the words of Jesus but do not believe them. As Jesus said: “Everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it” (Mt. 7:26-27).

A fool stops his or her ears to the words of Jesus. The words fall on the ears physically, the words beat on the eardrums, but the heart refuses to open. The words fall to the ground and bear no fruit in the fool’s heart.

A fool thinks that mere outward ties to a church is the ticket to heaven, mere friendly association with other church-goers is the same as being Christian. A fool may be on the church membership roster, but denies the power of the Gospel. A fool may stay away from hearing God’s Word and receiving Jesus’ Sacrament. A fool may hear the Word and receive the Sacraments, but the divine gifts don’t change heart and life.

Foolish virgins think they know Christ but, truthfully, they do not. And He does not know them. “[Jesus] answered, ‘Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.” Our Lord knows all people very well and yet He says to the foolish virgins, “I do not know you.” Frightful words!

In the Bible, knowing a person can mean different things. It can mean a simple acquaintance, but it can also mean intimacy—such as the relationship of husband and wife. When Jesus says, “I do not know you,” He means I am not intimate with you. You have kept Me at a distance. You have kept Me from penetrating into your heart and soul. You have kept Me from giving My life to you.

Imagine a man and a woman going through the formality of a wedding service but then never becoming intimate. They are husband and wife in name only.

So it is with the foolish virgins. They have been through the outward formality of church membership, but they are not joined to Christ. They are not one body with Him. They are not bone of His bones and flesh of His flesh. At His second coming, Jesus exposes the pretend Christians and tells them the true and frightful words: “I do not know you.” Lord, spare us!

But to the wise virgins, the door will be opened. They will enter into the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom which will have no end. The wise virgins are members not just of a congregation, but also members of the Body of Christ. They are joined to Christ. They are one body with Him.

The wise virgins are baptized into Christ, buried with Him through Baptism into death so that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, they too might walk in newness of life.

The wise virgins are nursed and nurtured on the very Body and Blood of Christ under bread and wine. It’s how Jesus nourishes and cherishes His own body, the Church.

The wise virgins partake of the divine promises. The words of Jesus do more than fall on their ears. The words of Jesus enter through the ears, penetrate into the heart, and enliven the soul. The words of Jesus take root in the soul and bear the fruit of faith. The words of Jesus give life with God, both now and into eternity.

As Jesus said: “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock” (Mt. 7:24-25).

You are the wise virgins! You are the ones Jesus talks about: “I know my own and my own know me” (John 10:14). You wise virgins are intimate with the Lord. He knows you and you know Him. He has penetrated your being with His Gospel message. You are one flesh with Him.

In the custom of Jesus’ day, the virgins were merely friends of the bride and the groom. They rejoiced with the bride and the groom. Not so with Christ and the wise virgins! The wise virgins are not just guests at someone else’s wedding party. In this case, the virgins become the bride of Jesus. Jesus transforms you virgins into His holy bride, the Church. Christ the bridegroom makes you His holy bride.

Let’s go back to Genesis 2. The Lord God looked at Adam and said, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” God then remedied Adam’s aloneness by creating a bride for him. God put Adam to sleep, opened his side, took out a rib and fashioned a wife. Then as a good father giving away the bride, the Lord God also brought the woman to the man. The man looked at his bride and said, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” And the two became one flesh.

Jesus is the second Adam. On the cross He was put to sleep in death, His side was pierced open, and out flowed blood and water. And from that blood and water, the Father created you, the bride of Christ, the Church. “For there are three that testify: the Spirit and the water and the blood; and these three agree” (1 Jn. 5:7-8).

When Jesus returns, you wise virgins will enter into the marriage feast of the Lamb as the bride of the Lamb. You are washed clean from sin by His precious blood. All your spots and blemishes are removed by the water of Holy Baptism. As St. Paul says: “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Ephesians 5:25-27).

Our Lord is an anxious husband joyfully waiting for the day when He can come for you, His bride, and take you into the feast in His kingdom which shall have no end.

Let that image on the wall [second from the back, lectern side] remind you of Jesus’ promise and return. Five lamps are unlit. They remind you of the foolish ones who were not ready for Jesus’ delay or His coming. They will be left out in the dark, separated from Jesus for eternity. The other five lamps are lit. And they are inside. Inside what? The life of the cross, the life of Jesus poured out for you in His Word and in the water and the blood. Amen.

Homily for Trinity 22 - 2019

"Unlimited Forgiveness"
Matthew 18:21-35

During World War II a young Nazi officer lay dying in a Polish hospital. He wanted to confess his horrible actions, be forgiven, and die in peace. So he asked a nurse to bring a Jewish man to his bedside. The Jewish man arrived and listened to the soldier’s confession. The soldier confessed how he had herded Jewish people into a house, set gasoline cans inside, and then ignited them with hand grenades. The soldier also confessed how he gave orders to shoot a father and a daughter when they tried to escape. “We shoot,” he cried, “oh, God…I will never forget it…it haunts me. Please forgive me and let me die in peace.” The man got up and left the room without saying a word. Later some rabbis confirmed this man’s actions and wrote this: “Whoever is merciful to the cruel will end up being indifferent to the innocent…. Let the SS man die unforgiven. Let him go to hell.” (Concordia Pulpit Resources, 9:4, p. 10). Ouch!

Jesus has a much different way for us today. Our Lord Jesus calls us to trust His forgiveness so that we will also forgive one another.

Just before our Gospel reading, Jesus teaches us to go to our sinning brother, tell him his fault, and seek to gain him back in forgiveness. Peter was listening carefully and catching on. His newfound insight led him to ask a question: “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?”

Now Peter was actually being gracious and generous. Jewish rabbis at the time said the going rate for forgiving someone was three times. After that, a person ought to know better. So Peter was being very gracious. He doubled the going rate and added one more forgiving act for good measure. After all, “seven” is the Biblical number of completeness.

Our sinful flesh always wants to put limits on the forgiveness we dish out. We also ask Peter’s question: “How often shall I forgive?” We might even phrase it this way: “How often do I have to forgive?” Too often there’s no sweeter sound to our sin-clogged ears than, “Don’t get mad; get even.” After all, we don’t want to appear weak or soft on crime, and we certainly don’t want to be “taken advantage of.”

To be sure, forgiveness is very laudable, in the right situation. I still remember when Pope John Paul II forgave the man who tried to assassinate him. He was applauded for his graciousness. But then again, John Paul was considered a “man of God.” He’s supposed to be more forgiving than most. We also hear talk of forgiveness after school shootings. But then again, the evil shooters might take their own lives, and we don’t have to look them in the eye anymore. Still, we, with Peter, like to ask, “Isn’t there a limit to my forgiveness?”

Jesus answered Peter: “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” It doesn’t matter how you do the math—is it 77 times, or 490 times?—Jesus is teaching us to live and practice unlimited forgiveness. His parable gives the reason. A certain king forgives a servant, but the servant cannot forgive his fellow servant.

Let’s consider the enormous, infinite debt of your own sins. Augustus Toplady wrote a hymn you know:

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure:
Cleanse me from its guilt and pow’r” (LSB 761:1).

How much guilt and power does your infinite debt of sin hold? Mr. Toplady did some calculating. In 1775 he was “inspired” by the national debt. (Yes, there was one back then too!) Toplady wanted to show how a sinner’s debt can never be repaid. Since we are sinners who sin in all we do, he said, “Let’s say people sin once every second.” Yes, you heard right: one sin per second.

That adds up to 3600 sins per hour and 86,400 sins per day. Each year it adds up to 31,536,000 sins. When you can first drive a car, at age 16, you carry a debt load of 504,576,000 sins. When you’re 30 years old, enjoying family times with your children, you’re lugging around 946,080,000 sins. When you’re 50 years old, the children are grown, the house is empty (hopefully!), and your conscience is overloaded with 1,576,800,000 sins. And when you reach 80, getting ready for life’s end, you’ll have have to wrestle with 2,522,880,000 sins. Wow!

What’s the point? Your debt of sin is infinite. It just keeps piling up. You cannot even begin to pay it back, no matter how many times you promise to do better.

But here’s the good news. There is forgiveness for your infinite debt of sins. As God told His Old Testament people: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her… that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the LORD’s hand double for all her sins” (Is. 40:1-2).

Double forgiveness! For all sins! Jesus has more forgiveness than you’ve got sins for. No matter what your sin-debt is, Jesus paid it. Jesus forgives it. Jesus blots it out—“not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood, and with His innocent suffering and death.” The king in Jesus’ parable absorbed the loss of the servant’s “gazillion” dollar debt. In the same way, Jesus, your King and Savior, has absorbed the debt of your sin and that of your neighbor. He did not demand justice. He did not hold a grudge. He simply absorbed it, paid it Himself, and forgives. Unlimited forgiveness.

This is what your Baptism tells you. Your infinite debt is washed away. This same infinite mercy of God drives you to your pastor to confess your particular sins and hear the words of Jesus’ forgiveness. And when you eat and drink Christ’s Body and Blood, you receive even more infinite forgiveness from Jesus.

Now we can consider the debt of our neighbor’s sins. In Jesus’ parable this debt does seem large—a paycheck for three month’s work. But compared to a massive debt of billions of dollars, that’s just a drop in the ocean. This is the way to view your neighbor’s sins against you. Yes, your fellow Christians sin against you, disappoint you, anger you, even offend you. But what is that debt compared to how you have sinned against God? No contest. It’s a mere speck in your brother’s eye compared to the 2 x 8 plank sticking out of your own eye.

St. Paul said it well: “Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” (Col. 3:12-14).

It really is a matter of faith toward God as well as love for your neighbor. If you cannot forgive your brother or sister, then you really have not trusted God when He reveals your infinite debt of sin. It also means that you don’t trust God’s forgiveness that comes through His beloved Son. You see, God also gives that same forgiveness to your neighbor. If God forgives him or her, why can’t you?

But God does forgive your neighbor. So the best thing you can do for your neighbor who sins against you—a loved one, a friend, a co-worker, a brother or sister at church—is to give your forgiveness too. That’s how your neighbor can see God’s forgiveness in action.

You see, the Church is the Body of Christ. As Christ forgives each of us, we also get to forgive one other. Jesus doesn’t want His body members to harm each other by not forgiving. No, He wants the same forgiveness that He gives to flow through His whole Body. When you trust and rely on Jesus’ forgiveness for you, you can also freely forgive each other and trust that Jesus has forgiven your neighbor as much as He has forgiven you.

Keep this in your mind and heart as you come to the Lord’s Table. Jesus places His forgiveness into your mouths in the same Body and Blood that carried your infinite debt of sins to the Cross. He unites you to Himself and restores you to His image as one who forgives. Your hands and mouths that receive Christ’s Body and Blood may also speak and show His forgiveness to others. Amen.

Homily for Trinity 21 - 2019

Do You Really Believe God's Word?
John 4:46-54

It’s very hard to believe God’s Word.  I mean really believe it. Just ask the nobleman from Capernaum. He had heard about Jesus turning water into wine at Cana. He had heard about Jesus miraculously healing other people. Now he wanted just such a miracle. His son was feverish, almost to the point of death. But would he really believe God’s Word?

Or would the nobleman believe the miracle over the Word? Jesus had to call him, the crowd, and us to the carpet for trusting in “signs and wonders.” “Unless you see signs and wonders,” He told the nobleman, the crowd, and us, “you will not believe.” You can almost see Jesus shaking His head. You see, “signs and wonders” are for the weak in faith, for those who can only handle milk but not meat. Yet Jesus still wants to help the nobleman, and us, grow in believing Him, the Word of God in the flesh.

It’s amazing how a personal tragedy or hardship in life turns you to the Word who is Jesus. But do you really believe God’s Word in the flesh? Perhaps you are like the nobleman, who needed proof before he could believe.

Perhaps you are like Thomas. He needed to see Jesus and put His fingers into Jesus’ wounds before he would believe. Jesus first appeared to ten of His disciples, but Thomas was absent. And Thomas would not believe the Word that the others later proclaimed to him until he himself saw and touched Jesus in the flesh. The next Sunday, Jesus did appear to Thomas of the weak faith, and He did grant Thomas his request. Then Jesus also said, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (Jn. 20:29).

Or perhaps you are like Elijah. He expected to see and hear God in the loud wind, or in the earthquake, or in the raging fire. But God was not in those things. No, Elijah heard God in the “sound of a low whisper” (1 Kgs. 19:12). God certainly allows and sends natural disasters, such as hurricanes and earthquakes, so that we might turn from our self-centered thoughts and ways, so that we might repent and trust Him for every need. But He speaks to us in the still small voice of His Word, especially the Word made flesh, Jesus the Son of God.

Do you really believe God’s Word? Or would you rather look for things that are much more monumental? Would you rather seek God’s love for you in what looks good and successful? Perhaps the preaching of the holy Gospel and the giving out of the holy Sacraments don’t seem to do the job. Perhaps you’d rather see the capacity crowds, even standing room only, in the church. Perhaps you’d like to add something—anything—to draw the crowds. Perhaps you’d rather see the “faith healer” do his or her work to the applause and cheers of adoring crowds.

But if you want these things, you must be ready for the consequences. When you need the healing and don’t get it, you’ll be told, “Well, you don’t have enough faith. You need to read your Bible more. You must pray harder. Come back when you have enough faith, and then we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Notice that the nobleman’s faith grows beyond wanting mere signs and wonders. He persists. He says, “Sir, come down before my child dies!” He wanted more than a miracle; he wanted the Lord Jesus to help him. He knew and trusted that only the Word of God in human flesh could give life. But would he really believe this Word? It seems that he would not be satisfied until Jesus dropped what He was doing, changed His schedule, and made a personal visit to Capernaum.

Again, you and I are like this nobleman. We may get past the immature need for “signs and wonders,” but we still want to tell God how to do His job of being God. Perhaps we think that God must immediately heal us of the disease or injury we have. Doesn’t He know how it will get in the way of your daily life? Perhaps we try to convince God to remove the family trial we’re going through. Doesn’t He know it’s torture? Perhaps we actually come out and ask God to make those other people see our point of view. Doesn’t He know you are always right?

But Jesus will not be dethroned from His place as God’s eternal Word of love and life for us. The nobleman begs Jesus to come to his home, but Jesus says, “I’ll do something even better. I will not come to your home, but I will heal and give life back to your son.” “Go; your son lives.” That’s it! Just a word. That’s all the nobleman had to go on. As one preacher once said, “The nobleman went home with only a word in his pocket.” Would he really believe that Word?

As the nobleman returned home, his servants met him on the way. They told him that his son had recovered. He asked, “At what time?” They said, “Yesterday at about 1 PM.” The nobleman knew that was the time that Jesus had said, “Your son lives.” So, really, two people were cured—the young lad who was sick and on death’s doorstep, and his father who fought the disease of unbelief. “He himself believed, and all his household.”

Do you really believe God’s Word? Do you really trust this Man who brings life into this world of death? You see, Jesus comes to heal you here today. If you’re honest with yourself, sometimes it’s hard trust that He sends the Holy Spirit to call, gather, enlighten, and sanctify the whole Christian Church on earth and keep her with Jesus Christ in the one true faith. Truth be told, you want to add various “signs and wonders”—whether they’re outward signs of success or inward signs of wonderful feelings. Somehow, we think, that will give the Spirit a nudge.

But Jesus knows how to heal and give life. You see, God does not hate you or His creation. No, He longs to heal and restore. Even though you are feverish in your sin, sick to the point of death, your God still loves you and works to heal you. That’s why He sends His only-begotten Son into the flesh. “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.” (1 Jn. 4:9). Jesus took your sickness of sin and death upon Himself. He took the punishment and wrath that you deserved upon Himself. And when He died on the cross, He sent your sins packing and trampled death to death. When He came forth from the grave victorious, He burst a big, gaping hole in death’s belly. Now sickness and death have no more dominion over you. Sure, we’re all bound to catch a virus now and then; maybe even contract a deadly disease. But those things cannot separate you from God’s love in Christ Jesus. Now you get to live!

That’s the Word that you get to hear over and over again. Just as Jesus told the nobleman, “Your son lives,” He also tells you: “You now live.” And notice how Jesus tells you this—through His Word. So, do you really believe His Word? In the face of your daily struggles, you may certainly believe the Word that comes to you here in the Divine Service. You may certainly believe what Jesus says to you through Holy Scripture, through the Word read from the lectern and proclaimed from the pulpit. As Jesus said, “whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life” (Jn. 5:24).

And this same Jesus, this same Word in the flesh, also said: “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn. 6:53-54). Let that be the Word in your pocket, the Word that you really believe, the Word that says, “You live, because you eat and drink Me!”

No, you don’t need to look for signs and wonders. You have the divine wonder of Jesus the Word. You have His signs called Sacraments. Let these gifts from God sustain and strengthen you when times get rough, when illness and death strike. After all, Jesus comes to tell you, “You now live.” And, yes, you may really believe it. Amen.

Homily for Reformation Day (Observed) - 2019

"Pressing Forward Forcefully"
Matthew 11:12-19

When God sent His only-begotten Son into the world, it was like a commander-in-chief ordering the Navy Seals to make a first strike. When that first strike comes, you can be sure of two things. First, the battle is engaged. Second, the enemy will fight back.

Perhaps this mental picture can help us grasp Jesus’ perplexing words in our Gospel: “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.”

Jesus has just selected His twelve apostles. He has given them “authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every affliction” (Mt. 10:1). Then Jesus sent those twelve apostles out to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Their mission? “Proclaim…, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons’” (Mt. 10:7-8). Their promise from the Lord? “Everyone who acknowledges Me before men, I also will acknowledge before My Father who is in heaven” (Mt. 10:32). Jesus even tied their mission to His divine incursion: “Whoever receives you receives Me, and whoever receives Me receives Him who sent me” (Mt. 10:40). Now, you know the enemy—Satan and his minions—doesn’t much like such incursions into its tyrannical domain.

After instructing His twelve disciples, Jesus Himself went on preaching and teaching. He was continuing His divine first strike of invading enemy-held territory. After all, He came to rescue and restore it. Then comes the question from John the Baptist. It’s the story we hear in Advent. As John sits in prison and awaits his execution, he wonders if Jesus is in fact the Coming One—the Divine Invader—who comes to rescue all humanity, or if we should look for another. Keep your ears, your heart, and your mind focused on Jesus’ answer: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (Mt. 11:4-6). And you know the enemy doesn’t much like that!

Jesus then asks the crowds about John. What did they go out to see? Someone who swayed with the shifting winds of public opinion? Nope. Some softie dressed in nice clothes walking the halls of power? Nope. Instead, when John came, they saw none other than God’s own messenger sent to prepare the way for the Lord—for the Divine First-Strike Team in the flesh. “Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than [John]” (Mt. 11:11).

This is what leads us to Jesus’ perplexing words about the kingdom “suffering violence.” What in the world is He talking about?!

When Jesus comes into the world, the world, the devil, and even our sinful flesh don’t like it much. Yet He still comes. And when He comes, the kingdom comes. Jesus, the kingdom of heaven incarnate, presses forward forcefully into this world—a world enslaved by sin, death, and devil. When He does, you know the battle is engaged…and you know the enemy fights back.

John the Baptist experienced violence for preparing the way of the Lord. Arrest. Prison. Even execution by losing his head. Jesus Himself experienced violent opposition. Repeated challenges to His preaching, teaching, and healing. False accusations. Kangaroo courts. Beatings and flogging. Betrayals by friends. Even the worst kind of capital punishment—being nailed to a tree and suffocating to death. And Jesus’ disciples could also expect violent opposition. How many of them later faced prisons and beatings and various forms of execution simply for preaching salvation by Christ alone?

But God’s kingdom—enfleshed in Jesus the Christ—keeps pressing forward forcefully. You see, Jesus Himself not only suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried, but He also descended into hell in victory. Then the third day He rose again from the dead. Then He ascended into heaven and now sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. He came to redeem us lost and condemned persons, purchased and won us from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with silver and gold, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death. To what end? That you and I may be His own and live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness.

Mission accomplished! First strike successful!

Ever since the New Testament and through all these centuries, the kingdom continues pressing forward forcefully. And the enemy keeps on fighting against it. Now we come to the part about the violent taking it by force. Those violently opposed to Jesus and His saving, forgiving ways do indeed attack the Church. But this line can also be translated, “and forceful people snatch it.” (cf. Lenski)

It’s why the Church must always be reformed. She must always be called back to the saving work of Jesus. You see, the Church is really a heavenly city invading the earthly city. Conflict is inevitable. The earthly city always seeks to re-make the Church in its own image. “Don’t call out sin. Don’t judge. Don’t live by God’s Word. Instead, seek power. Instead, go along to get along.” It’s what Luther faced in his day. A Church that needed to be brought back to the saving work of Jesus. It’s what we face in our day. It’s what the Church faces in every age.

Here’s what we joyfully celebrate this Reformation Day. Jesus rescues us from sin and death by His grace alone. “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (Jn. 8:36). We receive this forgiveness of sins and new life through faith alone. “We hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law” (Rom. 3:28). The source of this emancipation proclamation is Scripture alone. “If you abide in My word,” Jesus said, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (Jn. 8:31-32).

So how will you embrace—how will you snatch up—this Good News of your liberation from sin, death, and devil? Will it be with apathy and indifference? Or will it be with zest and eagerness? You see, Jesus—kingdom in the flesh—presses forward forcefully for and in you. He confronts you with your sin so that He may liberate you with His forgiveness. When you think you are the one who matters most, He disabuses you of that notion through repentance. When you are dead in your trespasses and sins, He gives you rebirth and new life in your Baptism. When you sin in thought, word, and deed, He powerfully grants you His cross-won Absolution through humble words. When you are weak and faint, He strengthens you with His very Body and Blood actually, truly and really present under bread and wine, actually, truly and really delivering His forgiveness and life to you.

That’s how forcefully your Lord presses forward to claim you and keep you as His own. He overcomes whatever doubts you may have. He liberates you from whatever mental, rational reservations you may have about His washing, His absolving, and His Meal. His kingdom with all its gifts, all its blessings and all its treasures gives you power and courage to snatch it, grab it, and cling to it all—to all the forgiveness, life, and salvation that He has achieved for you. You may zealously hold on for dear life. You may powerfully bear witness to this same Jesus who has freed you from sin, death and devil.

In 1521, Martin Luther was excommunicated for holding onto the powerful Gospel of Jesus Christ, rather than submitting to the violent opposition against it. Later that same year he appeared before the Diet of Worms and refused to recant his position of standing on Scripture alone. Then he was whisked away into hiding at the Wartburg Castle. When troubles arose in Wittenberg in early 1522, Luther came out of hiding to preach a series of sermons at the beginning of Lent. They’re called the “Invocavit Sermons.” In the second of these sermons Luther spoke of the power of God’s Word. What he said illustrates how the kingdom of Jesus powerfully presses forward:

“In short, I will preach it, teach it, write it, but I will constrain no man by force, for faith must come freely without compulsion. Take myself as an example. I opposed indulgences and all the papists, but never with force. I simply taught, preached, and wrote God’s Word; otherwise I did nothing. And while I slept, or drank Wittenberg beer with my friends Philip and Amsdorf, the Word so greatly weakened the papacy that no prince or emperor ever inflicted such losses upon it. I did nothing; the Word did everything. (Second Invocavit Sermon, 1522; AE 51:77)

The kingdom of heaven presses forward forcefully, and those liberated and enlivened by Him eagerly snatch up His treasures. Amen.

Homily for Anniversary of a Congregation - 2019

"Faithful God: Past & Future"
1 Kings 8:22-30; Revelation 21:1-5; Luke 19:1-10

Listen here.

When we celebrate our congregation’s anniversary, we look not only to the past. We also look to the future. For us at Hope, today is a bit like January 1st, New Year’s Day. The month of January is named after the Roman god Janus. In Roman mythology, he was literally a two-faced god. One face looked back to the past; the other face looked forward to the future. Thus Janus was the god of beginnings, transitions and doorways. So on January 1st each year, we non-Romans still look back to the past year and forward to the coming year. (Of course, Janus was a false god, really a non-god. The myth just happens to be a fitting illustration.)

Today we celebrate 103 years of God’s faithfulness to Hope congregation. And we also look to the future. How did we celebrate the big one just three short years ago? “Our Hope for Years to Come” was our theme. The true God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—has now blessed our beloved congregation for 103 years. He has shown steadfast love to His servants. He has indeed dwelt on earth by means of His Word and Sacraments. He has indeed come to this house to be the guest of us sinners. He has most certainly come to seek and save the lost—many who went before us and us too. For 103 years God has dwelt with us and we have been His people. He has sustained us with His promise to wipe every tear from our eyes and the sure and certain pledge that death shall be no more. And He still promises to keep doing all of that for years to come.

King Solomon celebrated this very thing when he dedicated the temple. There is no God like our Lord, in heaven above or on earth beneath. He is faithful in keeping His gracious covenant and showing steadfast love. Then Solomon looked to the past. God had kept His promise to David, Solomon’s father. David first wanted to build a temple, but God told David, “You don’t need to do that for Me. In fact, here’s what I will do for you, David. I will make your name great. I will give you rest from your enemies. And “I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever” (2 Sam. 7:12-13).

After thanking and praising God for His faithfulness in the past, Solomon then began looking to the future. “Now therefore, O God of Israel, let Your word be confirmed, which You have spoken to Your servant David my father.” Keep Your promises going, Lord! Then Solomon prays for God to keep His eyes “open night and day toward this house” going forward. Solomon asks God to listen to the prayers of His people in days, weeks, months, and years to come. Solomon pleads for God’s ongoing forgiveness, grace and mercy well into the future.

Solomon finished his prayer of dedication and then gave the benediction: “Blessed be the Lord who has given rest to his people Israel, according to all that he promised. Not one word has failed of all his good promise, which he spoke by Moses his servant. The Lord our God be with us, as he was with our fathers. May he not leave us or forsake us, that he may incline our hearts to him, to walk in all his ways and to keep his commandments, his statutes, and his rules, which he commanded our fathers” (1 Kgs. 8:56-58). Thanking God for the past and relying on Him for the future—that is Solomon’s example for us.

We find ourselves in the same position today—thanking our Lord Jesus for the past and relying on Him for the future. We can remember our own stories of the past. Reverend Martin Engel serving as our first pastor. Pastor Roschke following him and starting a Lutheran day school. Pastor Bohnert coming along to serve with Pastor Roshcke. Then Pastors Richter and Lucero rounding out the 20th century. We can thank God for Mr. George Stohlmann, the first principal, and all of the other principals and teachers through the years of Hope Lutheran School. We can rejoice in all of the people who have been blessed by hearing the Gospel and receiving Jesus’ Body and Blood in this very sanctuary since 1930. We can thank our Lord for all of the students who were blessed with a Christian education to shape them for all of life. God has been faithful to His promises. He has forgiven sinners throughout the past 103 years.

And He still comes to dwell among us in His Word and Sacraments. He still comes to hear our prayers and forgive our sins because of Christ crucified and risen. Even as times have changed, even as we as a congregation have changed, God remains faithful. When we doubt about going forward, when we mentally and verbally wring our hands, when we look to anything and everything except God Himself for our identity and security, God remains faithful.

Beryl Markham was a British-born Kenyan. She was also an aviator, a racehorse trainer and an author. She was the first to fly solo, non-stop across the Atlantic Ocean from east to west. (Charles Lindbergh, of course, was the first to fly across the Atlantic, going from west to east.) Here’s something Beryl Markham wrote about the past and the future: “Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lies in a cloud, formidable from a distance. The cloud clears as you enter it.”

It’s safe and easy to look to our past. Those years have happened; they’re set in stone. Ponder the sacrifices our forebears made to start this congregation and keep it going. When it came time to construct this building, the church sold bonds, members bought them and thus contributed to this structure. Ponder the blessings they all received from our faithful God as well. A congregation that grew through the early decades and blossomed after World War II. Passed years are safe ones. We know what happened.

The future, though, seems to lie in a cloud. We do not know what the future will bring. But we do know we have God’s faithfulness, forgiveness, love and mercy along the way. And this brings us to our second theme of the day: Consecration Sunday. It’s our chance as individuals, as families, and as the whole congregation to look to the future. It’s an opportunity to grow in the grace of generous giving. After all, that’s what our forebears did when they started this congregation. It’s also how we end up in a newly renovated sanctuary with a newly restored organ. Generous giving by two sisters made all this possible. (Okay, we chipped in just a little for the porcelain tile flooring. Still generous giving.)

What can we make possible? What can we, by God’s grace, endeavor to achieve as we proclaim His Gospel? How can we as individuals, families and a church family grow in being generous so that others may hear the Good News of Jesus Christ and have “hope for years to come”?

Our forebears went before us only because of our faithful Lord and Savior. We are here today only because of our gracious giver God. Now we get to strive forward into the cloudy future only because of our Savior who gave Himself, His very all, for us. You see, God delights in pouring out His mercies in abundance. He loves exceeding our expectations. He has proven His love for us on the cross—the greatest act of giving ever. How can we not trust Him? How can we not respond to His love—each of us and all of us—with generosity toward His mission in the Church? How can we not seek to imitate Him in blessing others as we have already been blessed?

“O LORD, God of Israel, there is no God like You, in heaven above or on earth beneath, keeping covenant and showing steadfast love to your servants.” We thank You for coming to seek and save us who were lost. We thank You for bringing Your salvation to this house through Christ crucified and risen. Give us joy in Your salvation. Give us joy that You dwell among us in Your Word and Sacraments. Lead us to be generous givers that others may also rejoice in Your steadfast love. Amen.

Homily for Re-Dedication of Sanctuary and Organ

"Making All Things New"
Revelation 21:1-5

Listen here.

Hope Lutheran Church, St. Louis, Missouri, USA (2019)

Flashback to 1931. The date was January 18. This space, its organ, in fact, the whole building were brand spanking new. What exhilaration, what excitement, everyone must have felt! Some of them remembered the small portable chapel of the early days. Many of them had worshiped in the basement chapel since 1922. But nine years later, they got to move into their new space—this space—and hear their new organ.

Theodore Steinmeyer, the architect of this building, wrote about the features of the building and this space. After explaining the many details, he concluded:

“This sanctuary is truly a shrine, before which one is brought to grace; where one may hear and meditate on God’s Word; pray and praise; [promise] one’s faith and love; and where one may long to be brought, when entering through it, as a gateway to the Heavenly Mansions above.” (Dedication booklet, 1931)

Fast-forward back to 2019. Today, July 28. This space and this organ are new once again. And here you are, feeling the exhilaration, the excitement. We did not worship in a portable chapel, but we have been in the basement—the catacombs!—for nine months. And now we move back into our new space. Now we hear our new organ. In fact, our organ is so new that it now has new-to-us pipes that were made in 1898, long before our original organ was even born. :-)

How fitting, then, what we hear from our gracious giver God in Revelation 21: “And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Our God is a God of things new. His business, His will, His purpose, His mission in life, is making all things new.

We’re not talking “out with the old; in with the new” the way 21st century American culture does. Too many people think world history began the day they were born. Too many people assume that things of the past are, well, boring and tedious. Give us the future! Let us make our own new day! Why bother with all those old people and old notions of centuries past? When I was growing up, the “oldies station” played music from the ‘60s; now it plays the music I rather liked in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Oh, and you’re using that old smart phone? That is so last year! When we Americans think of something new, we think of something that was not there before. We think of something that has just appeared on the scene, whatever is most recent in history’s flowing river.

That’s not what God means when He says, “I am making all things new.” The Greek word indicates a newness in kind and quality. God makes all things “new” and distinctive, new in nature, different from the usual, superior in value.

The apostle John got a glimpse of God’s new things: “a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.” John got to see beyond this fallen, broken creation. He got a preview of the perfect creation yet to come. You see, we all know this world—this first heaven and first earth—is tainted, imperfect, damaged, painful and broken. Tornados and earthquakes remind us of that, as do the cancer diagnosis, the shooting of an innocent girl, the strained relationship, the mob riot and so much more. But John got to see all of that—all the mess of sin and death—in the rear view mirror, passed away.

Then John adds this: “and the sea was no more.” Does that mean there will be no oceans or large bodies of water in the new heavens and new earth? Not likely. After all, in the first creation God did create the seas and all of the creatures that live and swim in them. He even called them good. After the Fall into sin, though, “the sea” comes to represent our real problem before God. “The sea” comes to stand for the deep chaos caused by sin—our sin. It stands for the fearful gulf that separates us human beings from God—the separation caused by our sin and our rebellion against Him.

That’s “the sea” that will not be in the new heavens and the new earth. When God makes all things new, He removes the deep, dark, chaotic gulf that separates us from Him. When “the sea” is gone, so is the fear, so is the terror, so is the pain that comes from being separated from our gracious giver God.

As John beholds this preview trailer of the new heavens and new earth, he also sees “the holy city, the new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.” But this is not a plat of land with criss-crossing avenues or winding streets, with buildings of different designs, shapes and sizes. No, that’s so old-creation. This city, this new Jerusalem is dressed and adorned as a bride. And she is ready for her man, her husband, her Lord, her Savior. You see, He is the one who loved her and gave Himself up for her. By His death on the cross and His glorious resurrection, He has sanctified her; He has cleansed her by the washing of water with the word. He is the One  who adorns and beautifies her. He presents her to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish (cf. Eph. 5:25-27). This city is you—God’s redeemed, faithful people, the Bride of Christ, the Church. This is how God makes all things new.

Parsons, Opus 49

You see, “the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God.” That’s really what we celebrate today—not just a new look, some new artwork, some new pipes and a new sound. We celebrate God dwelling with us fallen creatures. We celebrate God Himself—the Son of God—becoming flesh and dwelling among us full of grace and truth. We celebrate Him who sacrificed Himself at the great expense of His life’s blood. We celebrate that He gives the unending treasure and joy of life with Him in His new creation. We celebrate that we may look forward to that new heavens and new earth.

We certainly thank our gracious giver God for the ability to renovate our organ and sanctuary. What a gift! But let’s thank Him even more for His renovation of the universe through His Son. Let’s thank Him even more for His renovation of us through Jesus’ blood. After all, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore.” All the tears, all the disappointments, all the hurts, all the sins—either done by us or done to us—He will wipe away. All the loss, all the sadness, all the death, all the grief—He will erase and delete forever.

“Behold, I am making all things new,” the Father says from His throne. The Son accomplished this newness on His cross. The Spirit breathes this newness into you—when you are baptized, when you hear words of Absolution, when you eat and drink Jesus’ very Body and Blood. All this gives eager anticipation and fervent hope.

This hope is what our space and organ proclaim. Yes, they also preach our Savior making all things new. When we enter, we cannot miss the font. Baptism is our entry into Jesus and His Church, our entry into this new life of hope, this journey of life with Him all the way to eternity. As we go from font to altar, the images point the way to the new Jerusalem, the new creation:

• An empty ark after its occupants entered a post-flood new world;
• God’s rescued people crossing the Jordan River into the Promised land;
• Water turned into the bountiful best wine of our Savior’s new creation;
• Five lit lamps of five wise virgins as they wait for Him and get to be included in His cross-won wedding feast;
• Our Savior’s promised return on the cloud when the trumpet blasts;
• The great multitude gathered around His throne in the new heavens and new earth;
• The new Jerusalem, the tree of life, the river of life, all provided by the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world and gives us His life;
• And, finally, the Lamb and His bride, the Church, consummating their union with the grandest wedding banquet ever.

Wedding Banquet of the Lamb and His Bride, the Church

At this end of the space, we come to the throne of the Holy Trinity, the holy of holies of the Alpha and Omega Himself. We gather to hear Him in His Word and feast on Him in His Supper. Here we get a foretaste of the feast to come. Here we are made new over and over again. Here we enter heaven on earth. Here Jesus is the vine, we are the branches, and He bears His new fruit in and through us. Here He renews us time and again until we get to see what John saw.

And the organ! What a day to dedicate a newly renovated organ—this day when the Church remembers Johann Sebastian Bach. And the prayer for remembering Kantor Bach expresses joy that we on earth may glimpse the beauty and richness of our Lord’s new creation through music.  So in this organ, old pipes refitted to sing better. Other pipes added to increase the chorus. All pipes rearranged and repositioned to blend their voices to greater effect. Did you know pipes have mouths and voices? Those mouths and voices serve and aid your mouths and voices to sing our Lord’s new song. “For He has done marvelous things! His right hand and His holy arm have worked salvation for Him” (Ps. 98:1). Whether we sing or listen as the organ sounds waft around us, we are drawn to our Lord who makes all things new. After all, music in a sacred space is new and distinctive, different from the usual. With it we learn to thank the Lord and sing His praise. With it we have hope all our days. With it our Lord prepares us for His new heavens and new earth.

Brothers and sisters of Hope, welcome home! How exciting to be back in our sacred space and hear our organ! To our other brothers and sisters with us today: thank you for joining in our joy. Thank you for your prayers, your support, and blending your voices with ours. While the new sights and sounds exhilarate us now, let’s all remember this: we haven’t seen or heard anything yet. Just wait until we get to see and hear our Lord’s  renovated heaven and earth! Amen.

Homily for Lent 3 Evening Prayer (2019)

"A God Exposed"
Genesis 3:7-21; John 19:1-5, 23-24

With complete credit and much appreciation to Rev. Jeff Hemmer and Concordia Publishing House's "Behold the Man!" Lenten series, and with slight revisions for my proclamation.

How things have changed. Naked once meant “innocent, selfless, and perfect.” The man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed, Genesis 2 tells us. Shame is different from guilt. Shame includes an unhealthy preoccupation with oneself. It makes sense that Adam and his wife were unashamed even though they were naked. After all, they did not have that level of self-awareness that comes from sinful, selfish navel-gazing. But then, as soon as they sinned, their eyes were opened to a new reality. Sure, they knew good and evil, that knowledge their Creator had withheld purely for their good. But now they see that they are naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. And when their eyes turn toward themselves for the first time, they are ashamed. “Look at me,” Adam thinks. “Look at me,” his wife muses. But each of them is too preoccupied with himself or herself to notice the nakedness of the other. Sin does exactly that; it curves our gaze in on ourselves.

What could they do? Hide themselves, they hoped. Fig leaves hastily stitched together, before they fled from their Creator into the garden, were their garments of choice. But fig leaves cannot hide sin and guilt. So, after God exposes the couple in their ashamed hiding, gets them to acknowledge (though not confess) their sins, and doles out the curses to the two and the serpent, He then upgrades their wardrobes from bloodless fig leaves to garments made from skin. And they quickly learn that God was not wrong when He had threatened death the very moment they ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But He mercifully stayed their executions by shedding the blood of some innocent animal, an animal whose skin would cover the sin and shame of the man and woman. Their nakedness would be covered at the cost of an even deeper nakedness. After all, what could be more exposed than an animal stripped of its skin? And so the first death, the first bloodshed, happened at the hands of the Creator Himself. God granted these rebels the luxury of hiding their shame behind the innocence of another creature.

You never want to admit it, but this is the true nature of sin—your sin. Instead, you want to hide it behind pious-seeming fig leaves, but fig leaves cannot do the job. No matter what you do to delete your browsing history, you cannot hide your shame or obscure your guilt from the eyes of an all-knowing God. No matter how you try to couch your gossip in thinly veiled requests to “pray for her,” those words remain reputation-damaging slander against your neighbor, and they render you guilty before a Holy God. Even if you call it “just getting what’s rightfully yours,” it’s still greed. Excuses for why you can’t make it to the week-after-week Sunday morning Divine Service don’t allow you to receive the gifts that God delivers there. And those excuses cannot hide your sin. Claiming “Everyone else is doing it” is a very flimsy fig leaf. Repent of these and all other fig-leaf attempts to hide your sin and trick yourself into thinking that you are blameless.

Sin can only be covered with skin.

No one knows what that animal was in the garden, the one whose innocent skin the Creator peeled away in order to hide the exposed, vulnerable parts of Adam and his wife. But, given how immature offspring of sheep are often selected to be sacrifices on Passover, in the tabernacle, in the temple, it might be a good guess that the first animal to die, flayed to fend off death for mankind, was a lamb.

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,” John the Baptist proclaimed about Jesus (John 1:29). Behold, the fulfillment of every lamb with its throat slit and its blood spilt to render it a sacrifice in the temple. Behold, the fulfillment of every Passover lamb roasted and completely consumed the night before God brought His people out of slavery. Behold, the Lamb who is not actually a lamb but a man. Behold God with skin.

Behold the man scourged by the Roman soldiers with their evil flagrum, designed to shred the skin from the back and sides of the person whipped, tearing away flesh so deep that the internal organs are nearly exposed. Behold the man on whose head the soldiers pressed the crown woven of thorns to ridicule Him as a madman for His belief in being King. Behold the man on whom they drape a soldier’s dirty purple robe to intensify the joke. Behold the man whom Pilate brought forth to say, “This is no king!” Here is God, with skin, clothed in the mockery of sinful men.

Behold the man who, when He was nailed to the cross, was stripped naked. Behold the man whose clothes the soldiers divided amongst themselves. Behold the man whose seamless tunic was the prize for which the godless gambled. Behold the man, God with skin, whose skin is shamefully exposed for all passersby to mock. Behold the bare naked God.

Behold the man who will bear your sin and shame. Behold the man who will suffer in your place. Behold the man whose nakedness answers for Adam’s. Behold the man naked and unashamed, with nothing to hide, with no sin of His own to clothe in garments and rationalization. Behold the man stripped bare to bear your own sins. All of them. The ones you try to hide and obscure, the ones you pretend are not there, the ones that cause you the greatest shame. All of them hang there on the cross with this man, this God, Jesus, naked and dying for you.

Behold the man, stripped naked so He might clothe you in new skin. Behold the man who will hide your sin with His own righteousness. Behold the man who gives you Himself to wear. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. Behold the man in whose washing of Holy Baptism you are clothed in the boundless perfection of His own righteousness. Behold the man who covers your sin with His own skin. Wear His garment. Wear Him. Your sin is gone. Your shame is removed. Your guilt is dissipated. Behold the man! Amen.

Homily for Lent 3 - Oculi (2019)

"Victory in Mercy"
Luke 11:14-28

Jesus is no milquetoast, panty waste deity. He most certainly is merciful, but He is far from meek and mild Mr. Nice Guy. He absolutely is compassionate, but not in a wimpy, moisten-your-finger-and-stick-it-in-the-air sort of way. No, Jesus comes to fight. He comes to kick some tail. He comes to win the war and divide the spoils. He comes to be the manly Messiah, the soldier Savior. He comes to take away the armor of strongman Satan and divide his spoil. As Luther wrote in his Large Catechism, “Jesus Christ, the Lord of life, righteousness, and every good and blessing…has snatched us, poor lost creatures, from the jaws of hell, won us, made us free, and restored us to the Father’s favor and grace” (LC II:30).

I suppose that’s what makes Jesus such a polarizing figure. You see, there is no neutral position in relation to Jesus. Whoever is not with Him is against Him. Whoever does not gather with Him scatters. No middle ground. No compromise. No shades of grey. No “Let’s wait and see” or “The jury’s still out.”

Ask the crowd who watched Jesus cast a demon out of the mute man. Some of them thought and even said, “He casts out demons by Beelzebul”—by “prince Baal.” Really? The prince of demons casting out his own demons, his own soldiers? Jesus did not back down. He pushed back. “Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and a divided household falls.” Not only that, Jesus also pushed back in a more personal way, to show them their folly. “If I cast out demons by and with the help of ‘prince Baal,’ then by whom do your own religious leaders cast them out?” Hmm? What do you have to say for yourselves? Your own beloved religious leaders—they cast out demons too, remember—they will be your judges. There’s no neutral position in relation to Jesus. You’re either with Him or against Him.

Now, if you’re with Him, you will realize that it’s by “the finger of God” that He casts out demons. That’s the same finger He used to thwart and flummox the magicians back in Egypt. Through Aaron’s staff God brought pesky gnats out of the Egyptian dust, but the magicians could not replicate this one. They had to admit that this was God’s finger at work—a mighty finger that shows God is no “Mr. Nice Guy” when it comes to combating Satan and overcoming his tyranny over us poor lost creatures.

You see, Satan is the strongman whom Jesus mentions. And if Jesus casts out demons by the finger of God, He is the “one stronger” who “attacks [the strong man] and overcomes him.” Remember, this is the same Jesus who had already taken on and defeated the tempter in the wilderness. This is the very Suffering Servant promised by Isaiah (53:12)—the One who will pour out His soul to death and thus divide the spoils of victory with the strong. So you’re either with Jesus in His victory over strongman Satan, or you’re still under the deceiver’s tyranny and chained up in his dungeon. There’s no neutral position, no in-between neutral zone.

How do you get from Satan’s camp of tyranny into the camp of our victorious Savior? Jesus Himself overcomes the strongman ultimately, finally, and once for all when He goes to the cross. Yes, that whole event appeared to everyone, especially strongman Satan, as the weakest of all weaknesses. What a foolish way to win a cosmic war—by dying! I mean, what “stronger man” would let himself be betrayed, beaten, falsely convicted, tortured, and nailed to a tree? How can a soldier who dies in battle claim victory over the enemy who slew him?

Only by God’s wisdom and mercy, of course! God’s glory is always to have mercy, and He shows it on a cross. This message of victory through a cross is “folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God…. It pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe…. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Cor. 1: 18, 21, 25). That victory was won on a cross, when our Lord disarmed the old evil foe. Then it was put on glorious display when our “stronger man” Savior rose from the grave—when our Savior divided the spoil of life for all.

And how do you claim this victory? How do you get your share of the spoils? Actually, you cannot “name it and claim it.” That’s impossible. Jesus’ victory, and being in Jesus’ camp, is complete, pure gift—undeserved, unearned, sheer mercy. Enter Holy Baptism. That’s when and where God qualifies you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. That’s when and where He applies the spoils of Jesus’ victory to you, delivering you from the domain of darkness and transferring you into the kingdom of His beloved Son. That’s when and where you receive redemption, the forgiveness of sins (cf. Col. 1:12-14).

And we witness another dividing of spoils this morning. Little Elinor Victoria has now been forgiven all her sins—past, present, and future. She has now been rescued from death and the devil. She has now received eternal salvation. What a glorious coup over strongman Satan! The wily serpent thought Elinor belonged to him from the moment she was conceived. And she did. We all did, until Jesus worked His victory in mercy for us through water and Word and thus divided the spoils to give us peace and hope. Even little ones born to Christian parents are conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity (cf. Ps. 51:5). Sure, they may have the benefit of hearing the Word of God from faithful mommies and daddies, both in the womb and after their birth. But they still need Jesus’ victory given to them and the spoils of life applied to them in the drowning and rising at the font. This is God’s own chosen, ordinary way of sweeping clean the house of every human soul.

So little Elinor Victoria becomes our role model—for all of us. “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it” (Mk. 10:16, NKJV). Let all of us little children thus receive Jesus and His victory in mercy. And Elinor’s name even teaches this to us. Mom and Dad embraced the first name from the character Elinor in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. Godparents got to put in their suggestions for the middle name. (Nice way to be part of the child’s life!) But let’s dig for the meanings. “Victoria”—the middle name—of course speaks of victory. And what of “Elinor”? It actually finds its roots in the Greek word eleos—mercy. So my granddaughter’s name, in translation, is “Mercy Victory,” or “Merciful Victory,” or, to fit with our theme, “Victory in Mercy.” It’s God’s mercy that gave her in the first place. It’s even more God’s mercy that she now gets to share in Jesus’ victory over strongman Satan.

Because of that victory—won on a cross and delivered through water and Word—her soul and your soul are “swept and put in order.” The crucial question now is: will her soul, as well your soul, remain swept and in order, or will it stand vacant, thus allowing the demon and his seven vagrant buddies to move back in and vandalize it again? Take Jesus’ beatitude in our text to heart: “Blessed...are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” That’s the only way to remain swept and put in order in Jesus’ merciful victory over “prince Baal.” It’s not just being in the Word; it’s having the Word being put in you—by means of words, and water, and bread and wine. It’s the only way to be imitators of God, as beloved children. It’s the only way to walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us. It’s the only way—for Elinor and for the rest of us—to be a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

So “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever” (Ps. 136:1). In mercy our stronger man Savior has won the victory, snatching us from the jaws of hell, winning us back to Himself, making us free, and restoring us to the Father’s favor and grace. Amen.

Homily for Lent 2 Evening Prayer (2019)

"A God Beaten"
Isaiah 52:13-53:12

With complete credit and much appreciation to Rev. Jeff Hemmer and Concordia Publishing House's "Behold the Man!" Lenten series, and with slight revisions for my proclamation.

You need a God you can punch. You really do. You might not think so. You probably think you’re more pious than that. That’s not how you envision God, after all. You think you need a God who can hold your hand as He walks with you and talks with you in some ethereal garden. You think you need Him to hoist you onto His shoulders as you’re walking along the beach together, leaving only one set of footprints in the sand. You need a God, you suppose, like the statues that show Him playing soccer with little kids or towering over the little kids on the basketball court. But you don’t. You need a God whose lip you can fatten with a well-placed right cross.

This is the human predicament. Since Adam’s rebellion in the garden, since he fearfully fled and hid himself at the sound of God walking in the garden, mankind has been alienated from God. Nothing had changed in God, of course. But everything changed in man. He sought to be his own god, and in so doing, he turned away from his Creator, from the source of his life. Only a dying Adam would flee from a perfectly good Creator.

Since then, rebellion has been fallen man’s plight—our plight. Enmity with a holy God is all that sinners like us have. Sinners hate God. He is holy. They are not. His Law is an affront to their do-it-yourself divinity schemes. He calls His people to be holy just as He is holy. Jesus demanded perfect righteousness, just as the heavenly Father is righteous. No matter what you score on the righteousness self-assessment you take in your head every morning, you simply are not—righteous or good, that is. The Law is absolute. The Commandments allow no wiggle room, not for even a moment, not from even the least little part of the Law. So Adam and Eve were banished from the garden, alienated from God, on their own.

It’s little wonder that people prefer a god of their own making, a Jesus of their own imaginations, over against the Holy God of Scripture. After all, that God, the true God, demands that your holiness perfectly match His. A good-teacher Jesus, or a life-coach Jesus, or a model-CEO Jesus, or a moral-example Jesus, or a nice-guy Jesus, or a guru Jesus is not an affront to your sinful nature. And that kind of Jesus would not have been struck in the face, verbally and physically bludgeoned, nailed to a cross, and killed.

But that god cannot save you. He’s fake. Adam does not need a god who encourages him to do better next time. He does not need a mulligan. He has eaten. He has rebelled. He is wholly other from a Holy God. He needs a God who can plead his case, a God who will take up his cause, a God who will bear his flesh, a God who will do in Adam’s place what Adam failed to do. He needs a holy God who will give His holiness as a gift. He needs a God with human flesh who keeps the Law perfectly. He needs a God with a face he can punch.

Unless He can bear your hatred, this God cannot save you. Unless He can receive your blows, this God cannot bear your sins. So behold the man. God has become man. Jesus is a God you can punch. He has drawn near, not in wrath, but in mercy. Behold the man who has come to seek and save lost human beings. In Jesus, God walks in the midst of His creation again. And He desires to draw all people to Himself, out of their fearful hiding, out of their sin and their shame. Behold the man! Behold, God is man!

Now the Creator’s “Where are you, Adam?” has become “Why do you strike Me?” When asked about His teaching, Jesus answers, “I have spoken openly to the world. I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret.” So Annas commands one of the officers to strike Him in the face. Behold, this is your God. Behold the man Jesus. Behold, God has a face that can be struck. Behold, God has a back that can be scourged. Behold, God has hands that can be bound so that He can be sent to Caiaphas.

This is good. Behold the man who comes to allow Himself to be struck by the very sinners He seeks to redeem. Behold the man, the God you can punch, who can bear your striking, smiting, scourging, and hating. Behold the servant who will suffer in your place. Behold the One despised and rejected by men, truly despised, whom no one esteemed. Behold, this One who can be struck in the face has borne your griefs and carried your sorrows. Behold the man who is stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted in your place. Behold Him pierced for your transgressions, crushed for your iniquities. Behold the man upon whom is the chastisement, the punishment that has brought you peace. Behold the wounds by which you are healed.

In His flesh, Jesus bears all of mankind’s sinful, rebellious hatred of God. He receives the blows you would have lined up behind the official to be next in line to deliver. All this He gladly suffers. For you.

His holiness is a gift He gives, not to those who deserve it, but to those least deserving. He has borne all of man’s hatred of God, and worse, all the Father’s punishment for man’s rebellion, and He has answered for them with His life, with His face, with His cheek that bore the striking in this kangaroo court.

The solution to your hatred of God, to your desire to punch Him in the face, is not to clench your fists, bite your tongue, and abstain. The solution is to confess, to speak in unison with the Law what you know to be true. Your flesh is sinful. It does not desire God. And then, even though you would have raised a hand against Him, Jesus sends His officials, His pastors, His men with His word of Absolution. And when you confess your sin, He is faithful and just, merciful and compassionate. The pastor raises a hand, not to strike, but to soothe. He places his hand upon your head and pronounces the verdict of a Holy God: In the stead and by the command of the God-man who bore these and all your sins, I forgive you.

So Jesus turns the other cheek. God turns from wrath to mercy. Behold the man who would rather endure shameful abuse at the hands of sinners than allow sinners to have to answer for their own sins. In Him, you are made holy and whole, a new man. Behold the man. Amen.