26 December 2016

Homily for the Nativity of Our Lord-Christmas Day

"The LOGOS Became Flesh"
John 1:1-18

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John begins his gospel with a most unique take on the Christmas story. John uses a very high-octane, supercharged term. “In the beginning was the LOGOS, and the LOGOS was with God, and the LOGOS was God.” LOGOS. It’s where we get words such as “logic” and “logical.” It also gets added to all those words that end in L-O-G-Y—“biology,” “psychology,” and “theology.”

What is this LOGOS that was in the beginning and that is God? The term can suggest something like “reason”—hence “logic” and “logical.” It can also suggest “a means of communication,” or an “expression of what is on one’s mind.” Greek philosophy used LOGOS to describe what gives order to the universe—something like “natural law”—and even what constitutes the rational soul in humans.

Such is this supercharged term John uses in his Christmas story. But John is not shaped by Greek philosophy. Instead John is shaped by his Hebrew roots. For John, the LOGOS is the “Word of God” from the Old Testament. Through those books and those centuries, the Word of God is God in action—God in action creating the world, God in action revealing Himself, God in action delivering His people.

At creation, God spoke. He uttered what was on His mind and it happened. “By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host” (Ps. 33:6). At Mt. Sinai, God spoke. He communicated His will and revealed Himself to Moses in order to deliver His enslaved people. “I AM who I AM…. The LORD, the God of your fathers…. I will send you to Pharaoh that you may bring my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt.” (Ex. 3:14, 16, 10). And here’s a delightful image. The apocryphal book of Wisdom speaks of all things lying peaceful and silent at midnight, and then, all of a sudden, the almighty LOGOS leaps from the royal, heavenly throne to conquer and slay the enemies of God and His people (18:14-15).

Such is this supercharged term John uses in his Christmas story. God in action. God inserting Himself, even leaping, into human history to rescue and redeem and deliver. This LOGOS “was with God.” This Word of God is distinguished from God, yet He also exists in a very, very close personal relation with God the Father. But John does not leave it there. This LOGOS “was God.” He shares the same nature and being with God the Father. Perhaps we can say He is an extension of the personality of God. Perhaps we can say, “What God was and is, the LOGOS was and is.” Certainly we can and do say: “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father” (Nicene Creed).

Now, if all of that makes your heads hurt or spin on this Christmas morn, good! That’s exactly John’s point. Christmas is about much more than a mommy, a foster daddy, a baby lying on some hay, and some animals standing around, chewing their cud. It is that, but it’s, oh, so much more. Now John uses another high-octane, supercharged term in his Christmas story. It’s a term that’s sure to raise eyebrows, challenge sensibilities, and send elitist Greek philosophers, and their modern heirs, running to their “safe spaces.” “And the LOGOS became FLESH and dwelt among us.” The term for “flesh” is sarx. It’s not the skin that you and I can see on the outside; it’s the layer of muscle—the meat—that lies beneath the skin and covers the bones. Thus, we get those terms beginning with “sarco-,” such as “sarcoplasm” or “sarcoma” or “sarcophagus.”

Such is this other supercharged term John uses in his Christmas story. John’s unique take on the Christmas story gives us a perfect marriage and melding of the exalted and the base, of the heavenly and the mundane, of God and Man—that is, the Son of God who takes on our full humanity, with all of its “flesh-and-bone-ness,” with all of its heart-pumping, lung-breathing, organ-secreting realness, and, yes, even with all of its bed-head and morning-breath qualities.

“The LOGOS was God…and the LOGOS became [meat].” Just like us, in every way…except the sin that infects us. That He did not take on! You see, sin is not part and parcel of human nature, but it does infect all of us and each of us.  It is our congenital birth defect received from Adam and Eve. Sin is the reason the LOGOS assumed and took on our full-fledged, meaty, down-to-earth humanity. God took on our meat and flesh to have it pierced and torn with thorns and spikes. God leaped down from His royal throne to leap up onto a cross. “Who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary and was made man” (Nicene Creed).

When John marries these two supercharged terms together in his Christmas story, they also become fighting words. John is actually poking a finger of truth into the eye of false teaching, performing some doctrinal surgery with a chainsaw. Through the ages, some have objected to the LOGOS—the divine Son of God—taking on flesh and bone and blood in this material world, this “meat-space.” They view this material world as inherently evil. For them salvation is getting away from—escaping, really—the prison cell of flesh, bone and blood, of rocks, trees, and rivers. What counts is what you feel. What counts is your supernatural knowledge of non-material matters. (Trust your feelings, Luke! Use the force, Luke!) Think of Greek philosopher Plato and his famous image. He said life in this material world is merely looking at shadows on the cave wall; the reality is something different and out of sight. And this view of life—that material, fleshly, meaty things are bad, and only the unseen, spiritual forces are good—leads some to view Jesus as only appearing to be human, only seeming to be flesh and blood.

So, along comes John in his supercharged Christmas story. He marries and melds the LOGOS with the sarx, the divine with the human. The eternal Son of God becomes a Man with real flesh, bones, blood, muscles, lungs, and kidneys--all to suffer, bleed, and die on a real tree. And we need John’s supercharged Christmas story in our day too. You see, we live in a time when the same false teachings confront us. A baby in mommy’s womb is not considered a full-fledged human being. Snuffing out the baby’s life is not considered killing, but rather some sick, social virtue. Whether a person is male or female, some claim, is not a matter of biological fact, but rather a matter of how one feels or dresses. What’s true for you may not be true for me. The worship that matters for many is the worship of the god within, the inner light, the special feeling. And we, dear Christian friends, are not immune to these false thoughts and views and feelings. After all, we live and move and have our being in the same communities; we converse with people who believe these ways; and we steep in these cultural juices. We even have these thoughts and views and feelings within ourselves.

This is why we need John’s Christmas story, supercharged with LOGOS and sarx intimately married and melded together. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

“Of the Father’s love begotten
Ere the worlds began to be” (LSB 384:1). 

The truth is that God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—loves you too much to let you wallow in the mess of this fallen material world, a mess that you and I continually add to with our own sins of mistrust and lack of love. God loves you too much to let you dream of escaping this material world by some “spiritual” quest based on your feelings of the moment or the age.

“Oh, that birth forever bless-ed,
When the virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving,
Bore the Savior of our race,
And the babe, the world’s Redeemer,
First revealed His sacred face” (LSB 384:2).

You see, when the LOGOS takes on flesh, He takes on your “meat”—your flesh, your blood, your humanity—to restore you to real life, body and soul, with God Himself.  God is placed in a manger. God ends up on a cross for you and in your place. No need to spurn the flesh or the material world. No need to seek the abstract god within. God comes to you and to me. Just as He once came and dwelt in the tabernacle built by Moses, He also comes to dwell in flesh and bone and blood for you in Jesus Christ, “true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true Man, born of the Virgin Mary.” And He still comes to dwell with us, in His Body and His Blood on the Altar. “Christ alone our souls will feed; He is our meat and drink indeed; Faith lives upon no other!” (LSB 458:7).

Since Jesus took on your flesh and mine, since Jesus assumed your sin and mine, since Jesus bled and died for you and for me, you and I can receive and rejoice in the flesh and blood life in this material world that He Himself gives. You and I can rejoice that He has given us our bodies and souls, our eyes, ears, and all our members, our reason and all our senses, and that He Himself makes us males and females.

John’s Christmas story actually adds eternal meat and weight to the other accounts of Jesus’ Birth. It’s much more than a cute story; it’s much more than a picture on a Christmas card. Jesus’ Birth is your new birth. The LOGOS taking on flesh is God’s very own means of communicating and expressing what is on His mind for you. “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Galatians 4:4-5). “When the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, He saved us…by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:4-7). Amen.

19 December 2016

Homily for Advent 4 - Rorate Coeli

"Mercy Magnified"
Luke 1:39-56

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She is “blessed among women” because she carried the very Son of God in her womb. This morning we focus on the song that Mary sang. It’s one of the song staples that the Church has sung for centuries. In this song—“the Magnificat”—we get to see how God’s mercy is magnified, not only for us and to us, but also in us and through us. In this song we get to see how God answers the prayer we prayed in our Collect—that He would help us by His might and use His grace and mercy to lift from us the sins that weigh us down.

The world could sure use mercy. The oil of mercy would certainly make the engine of life run more smoothly for every person on the planet. When a dictator rises to power and then subjects his people to his will by harsh means, there’s certainly a lack of mercy. When you’re driving west on Interstate 64 and you come to that ever-present bottle neck of cars between Hanley and I-170, you can see a certain lack of mercy. Everyone races to where they’re going, and get there the fastest, and so one driver hits the gas pedal to prevent that other driver from getting in front of him and slowing everyone down. But God’s ways are different.

When we listen to and sing the words of Mary’s song, we hear how God’s mercy was magnified for her and in her. Young Virgin Mary had just heard the words of the angel that she would bear and give birth to the Son of God Most High. She had traveled to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Then Elizabeth sang to her, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!” Then came Mary’s turn to sing. And notice, she does not sing of herself. She does not sing of her feelings about these magnificent words and events that have just taken place. No, the young Virgin sings of God. “My soul magnifies the Lord…my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

Not only does Mary sing of her God and Savior, but she also sings of His goodness. She sings of what God has done for her: “He has looked on the humble estate of His servant.” God loves to look upon the lowly, not just those in lowly circumstances, but especially those who humbly confess their sins, those who see their need for God’s mercy and compassion, those who are weighed down by their sins.

Martin Luther said that the Virgin Mary teaches us a twofold lesson. “First,” he said, “every one of us should pay attention to what God does for him rather than to all the works He does for others.” My, how we love to compare ourselves to other people! We do notice the great things God is doing for other people. Then we think that God is somehow cheating us, or not giving us our due. After all, friends at work always seem to have nicer clothes. The neighbor across the street always seems to  have a nicer car. Or a fellow Christian always seems to have a stronger, more vibrant faith—a faith that can endure trials and move mountains. But Mary teaches each of us to focus, not on ourselves, but on God and what He does for each of us. After all, He gives us Himself in the Virgin’s womb, in the manger, on the paths of Galilee, on the streets of Jerusalem, on the cross, and out of the empty tomb. Yes, your Lord and Savior gives Himself to you in your Baptism and in the Holy Supper. Your God is certainly merciful to you, just as He was for Mary.

And look how merciful our God is to little Elijah Mark. Here this little guy is brought forth in iniquity, in sin did his mother conceive him (Psalm 51:5), and yet the Lord swoops down and washes him clean. In this little washing the heavens open and rain down the mercy of God-in-the-Flesh, without any merit or worthiness in little Elijah, and certainly not by his own reason or senses.

Here’s the second lesson that Luther sees in Mary’s song: “In the second place, she teaches us that everyone should strive to be foremost in praising God by showing forth the works He has done to him, and then by praising Him for the works He has done to others.” Wouldn’t it be great if we could have a little friendly competition to outdo each other in thanking and praising God for what He has done for each of us? Wouldn’t it be great if in every little detail of life each one of us would pause and say, “Wow! Thank you, God, for…!” Wouldn’t it be great if you could praise God for those nicer clothes that He gave to your co-workers, or for that nicer car that He gave to your neighbor? Wouldn’t it be great to see God working in every little circumstance of life—even the less fortunate ones—and especially in the Gospel proclaimed and the Sacraments given out? It would be great. And that’s exactly how God works. When we celebrate the Incarnation and Birth of our Lord Jesus, we are celebrating this: God has shown His mercy and continues to show His mercy. When the Son of God takes on our human flesh, He is making all things whole and holy once again. “He who is mighty has done great things for me, holy is His name.”

So Mary teaches us to sing, “His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation.” Here’s the heart of Mary’s song, as well as the heart of every Christian’s faith and life: God’s mercy is on you who fear Him. The Blessed Virgin knew that she could live and have life with God only by His great mercy. The ten lepers, infected with that skin-ravaging disease, knew that Jesus, Mary’s Son, could and would show divine mercy. So they cried out to Him for help and healing (Lk. 17:13). When the blind man sitting outside Jericho heard Jesus coming down the road, he cried out for the Son of David to have mercy on him (Lk. 18:38). Yes, God loves to have mercy on us sinners, on us who are infected with the leprosy of sin, on us who are blinded by our sinful desires.

Yes, God loves to show mercy. And He magnifies His mercy by focusing it and revealing it in His incarnate Son. In Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection we get to see that God is not a terrible Judge. Instead, He’s a loving Father who loves all of us weighed down by our sins. In the Word-made-Flesh we are freed from the burden of our self-centered, self-controlling desires. And just as Mary sang of God’s mercy while she was carrying the Son of God in her womb, we get to sing of God’s great mercy because the Son of God lives among us in His Church. Where else can you hear and sing of God’s mercy but in His one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church?

So, don’t try to be proud. After all, God “has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.” Proud, selfish desires are not becoming for you, people of God’s mercy. And don’t try to be high and mighty, because in Christ’s life, death and resurrection, God “has brought down the mighty from their thrones.” Even as a pre-born infant Jesus the Christ is the King of kings and the Lord of lords. He does not come to hob-nob with the powerful and the rich. Instead, He comes to exalt you who are lowly in your sins. He comes to fill you who hunger for His righteousness, His justice, His vindication. And while He may send the rich away empty, He fills you with the treasures of His goodness and mercy. Come to His Table and be filled!

As Mary teaches us by her example, let’s learn to live by and sing of God’s great mercy. Yes, each of us needs His mercy magnified on us. No doubt nerves get frayed from the shopping, from battling the traffic, from the winter weather, and from putting up with the selfish desires from other people as well as from within ourselves. We’re all tempted to resort to judgment. But remember the words of James (2:13): “Judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment.” Yes, God shows you mercy so that you will also show mercy to people around you. Just as Mary proclaimed the greatness of God and His mercy, He wants you to do the same, especially as we celebrate His coming in the flesh. Amen.

15 December 2016

Homily for Advent Evening Prayer 3

Waiting with Isaiah:
Waiting for God's Promised Land

Texts: Isaiah 35:1-10 and James 5:7-11

This Advent we’re learning to wait with Isaiah. The Prophet Isaiah spoke some pretty amazing promises about the coming Messiah—and all about 700 years before the Messiah would finally come. God’s people would have to wait to receive and rejoice in God’s promised Savior. Just as God’s people waited, lo, those 700 years, we’ve been learning to wait with Isaiah, and just a few weeks to celebrate the Savior’s Birth. So, how well have we been doing?

Two weeks ago we heard about “God’s Promised Justice.” Since our coming King promises and gives His cross-won justice—His victory over our enemies of sin, death, and Satan—we can learn to wait for God to give us His final victory, His final vindication, for all eternity. As we wait for that day, we strive to put off the works of darkness. Last week we heard about “God’s Promised Peace.” When our King came in the flesh, He inaugurated lasting peace between us sinners and our loving God. That peace, which passes all understanding, fills us with encouragement, hope, and harmony as we wait for His full, final, and eternal peace. So, how well are we doing in our waiting?

Let me ask that question another way. Are you just plain tired and worn out—tired of the rat race called “the holiday season”? Are you already stuffed to the gills from the Christmas goodies and the Christmas luncheons, dinners, and parties? Do you feel absolutely under the gun to get everything done, frantic that it won’t get done, and stretched too thin in too many directions all at once? Are you looking forward to December 25 so that you can just crash and burn and say, “Whew, glad that ‘merry chaos’ is over”? If so, perhaps the waiting has not been going too well.

Yes, waiting is pretty difficult for us Americans. Being patient is just not in our cultural DNA. Like children waiting for Grandma and Grandpa to arrive so that we can begin opening presents, we get antsy and fussy if it takes too long at all.

Perhaps it’s hard for us Christians to wait for God’s promised justice and His promised peace because, well, they don’t seem real enough. “Hey, we gotta live in the here and now, Pastor. We gotta be practical and down to earth, you know.” That justice stuff, especially from things like sin, death, and the devil, may seem more like a dream than real life. That peace stuff, especially if we can’t see it, may seem more like a Christmas card wish than something real to experience and enjoy.

Isaiah’s words tonight give the soothing, healing medicine we need. Isaiah promises: “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing.” Now that’s more real—a barren, dry land blossoming with vibrant life. Sounds like a real promised land. The prophet continues: “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.” More joyous, real-life stuff—blind people able to see again; deaf people able to hear; limping people able to walk and leap without hindrance; and tongues loosed to sing for joy. It’s a new creation, folks. It’s a creation that bubbles forth with good life—life without the problems we face day to day and at different stages of life. Truly a promised land. And, yes, Isaiah promises; it will happen.

And between these great, real-life promises, Isaiah says: “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.” My, how we need those words as our weariness leads us to stumble through the “merry chaos” season! “Say to those who have an anxious heart, ‘Be strong; fear not!’” Great words for us who are so anxious about getting everything done and just enduring until December 25! “‘Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.’” Normally, vengeance is a bad thing, but when it’s God’s vengeance on behalf of His redeemed people, then we welcome it with open arms. You see, God is our mighty King who comes to rescue us from our prisoner of war camp in Satan’s domain.

You see, dear friends, our worries, our weariness, our impatience with crazy drivers, with shopping mall clerks, and with each other show that we are not waiting so well. In fact, they show that, spiritually speaking, we still live in Satan’s prisoner of war camp called this fallen world. If we are stressed out and anxious, it’s because we are diverting our eyes from our Coming King. If we are impatient with fellow Christians, loved ones, and friends, it’s because we falsely think that all of our efforts at creating that “perfect Christmas” (again, this year) just may create heaven on earth, at least for a day or two.

But, dear friends, Isaiah promises our real heaven on earth, our real new creation, our real promised land. It all comes when our Lord God comes as the Infant in the manger to save us. It all comes when the Son of God takes on our flesh and blood and bones to restore us to life in His kingdom. It all comes when Jesus Christ spills that innocent blood and has His perfect body broken on a cross to rescue us from being prisoners in Satan’s war against the Triune God. Our Lord Jesus comes to inaugurate His eternal “promised land,” a land where we need not worry over or succumb to crowded malls, forgotten gifts, hectic schedules, or overindulging. You see, God’s promised land is where Jesus gives His forgiveness, His life, and His rescue from our self-centered concerns. God’s promised land is not in the shopping mall or around the Christmas tree (as fine as these things may be); God’s promised land is in His Church. It’s where the Son of God stretches out His arms, even as they are nailed to a tree, and says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).

It’s the promise that Isaiah gave some 2700 years ago, and it’s still true: “The ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” Did you hear that? In God’s promised land of Jesus and His  Church, our sorrow and sighing shall flee away. What replaces our anxieties and our stresses? The singing, the everlasting joy, the gladness that our God, that Infant small, has conquered our sins, our death, and the devil himself.

And so, dear friends, we once again hear very timely and wise words to help us wait, this time from James, the brother of our Lord: “Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord.” We can be patient, because our God has come in the flesh. As a farmer plants his crop and waits for rain and soil to work together to bear the fruits of the crop, we can wait for our God to deliver us from our self-inflicted “merry chaos.” James continues: “You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.” Yes, when you keep the eyes of your faith on your Coming King, the anxieties of “merry chaos” fade away.

And James even gives an additional bit of sage, sanctified advice: “Do not grumble against one another, brothers, so that you may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing at the door.” Yes, the King is coming. He has come in flesh and blood. He continues to come in the preaching of His forgiveness and life. He continues to come in the very Body and Blood on the Altar. And He will come again to rescue us from this fallen land and bring us to our eternal promised land. With such great promises already given and yet to come, why grumble against one another? We get to spend eternity together, with our God who is Love and with each other. We get to celebrate His mercy and compassion now and into eternity. There’s no need to let the world’s chaos get the better of us. As James also says: “you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful.” Amen.  

12 December 2016

Homily for Advent 3 - Gaudete

"What Did You Go Out to See?"
Matthew 11:2-11

Listen here.

Today we see the third candle on the Advent wreath lit; only one more Sunday to go before Christmas. And today’s candle is a different color. Purple is the traditional color of Advent, for the repentance and the traditional fasting, praying and almsgiving as we prepare for our coming King. Blue, which we see before us, is the newer color of Advent, the color for hope in our coming Messiah. Just as the sky is dark blue just before the dawn, so we wait in hope for the dawn of our Savior, the Light of the world. But what’s the rose color for? It marks a little reprieve in the repentance and preparation. The Latin name for today is “Gaudete!” which means “Rejoice!” Today we get a little taste of joy as we get a little break from the traditional fasting, praying, and almsgiving of Advent, a little rejoicing-break to tide us over until Christmas Eve.

Now you may enjoy a little reprieve of rejoicing, but I’m not sure that I can rejoice too much. You see, this Friday I will observe my 26th anniversary of ordination into the Office of the Holy Ministry. God has blessed me with 26 years of preparing the way of the Lord, of preaching His Gospel of mercy and grace in Christ, of shepherding a part of the flock that belongs to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. But now I look at today’s Gospel reading. The preacher is about to get his head lopped off! Nope, I’m not so sure how much I can rejoice! Faithful preachers getting their heads lopped off?!

It would seem that John wasn’t sure how much he could rejoice either. After all, he was in prison. As he looked out from his prison cell, it would seem that he was wondering if Jesus really was the Coming One promised long ago, the Messiah for whom he had been preparing the way. You see, John preached repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and look where it got him! Some say John began doubting if Jesus really was the Messiah. Others say that John did not waver in his faith, but rather wanted to direct his own disciples to follow their true Lord and Master. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Perhaps we’ll never know until the Last Day.

So John sends his disciples to ask Jesus if He is the Coming One. Instead of giving a simple “yes” or “no” answer, Jesus says, “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.” Sounds like a pretty resounding “yes” to me! Giving sight to the blind, healing the lame, cleansing lepers, enabling the deaf to hear, and raising up the dead are all sure and certain signs of the Messiah. After all, Isaiah had promised that in the day of the Messiah “the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped…” and “then shall the lame man leap like a deer” (Is. 35:5-6). Isaiah also said that the Lord’s Anointed would “bring good news to the poor…bind up the brokenhearted… and proclaim liberty to the captives” (Is. 61:1). Whoever can do these miraculous healings can only be sent from God. And preaching the Good News? Who better to do that than the Son of God who is Good News in the flesh!

Then Jesus gives us a little lesson about John. Three times our Lord asks, “What did you do out to see?” Did the people going out to see John go out to see a reed swayed by the wind of popular, public opinion? Did they go out to see a man in fancy, soft, luxurious clothing? Or did they go out to see a prophet sent from God? Well, let’s take Jesus’ question and apply it to ourselves. What do we go out to see when we leave our comfy homes for any Sunday Divine Service or any Evening Prayer Office? What do we go out to see when we venture to church during Advent or even on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? What do we go out to see when we sit in the pews and open our hymnbooks and listen to a man ramble on from the pulpit and the altar?

Do you go out to church to see a reed shaken by the wind? One Bible commentator says that a reed shaken by the wind “is symbolic of a man who yields to popular opinion, veers with it, and has no solid convictions of his own” (Lenski, 430). Is your pastor supposed to gauge popular opinion and preach, teach, and minister accordingly, perhaps as the majority wants? Should he try appealing to the most people possible so that we can have fuller pews and more offering money? Should your pastor fret and worry about needed changes for fear that some people may get upset and leave? Is it your pastor’s task when he steps into the pulpit simply to tell you things that you want to hear, or like to hear, or things that simply make you feel good? When it comes to the liturgy and hymns we sing, is it your pastor’s job simply to choose the dearly loved favorites so as to please the most people possible? Should your pastor moisten his finger and stick it in the air to see which way the winds of popular opinion go for life in God’s Church? Would you really want a pastor who veers with public opinion and has no convictions of his own?

Do you go out to church to see a man dressed in soft clothing? The same Bible commentator says this about the soft clothing: “A man who yields to popular opinion, who bends to the will and the word of the influential and the mighty, will be rewarded by them, will be given a high place and the finest kind of garments” (Lenski, 432). I know one pastor who was tempted by the soft clothing of success. One well-to-do lady in his congregation really wanted this pastor to “succeed” in his preaching and teaching. One day this lady invited the pastor over to her home for coffee. After the pastor arrived, the lady talked about how she would really like to see him “succeed.” As the two sipped their coffee, the lady turned on a video tape of Dr. D. James Kennedy. He was preaching to a full auditorium of interested and happy people. “Pastor, I really want you to be like that, preaching to a whole auditorium full of people,” she said. “Perhaps you could even have your own show,” she added. Well, the pastor knew the unspoken message. You see, this lady did not like his preaching of repentance and forgiveness; she did not care much that he was teaching on every-Sunday Communion or on the practice of individual Confession & Absolution. But she did want her pastor to enjoy the “soft clothing” of her approval.

What do you go out to see? Do you go out to church to see a prophet? Again, our Bible commentator has an insight on seeing a prophet: “Jesus does not mean ‘merely to look at a prophet’ but ‘to see him so as to get into personal touch with him,’ [that is], to hear him and his proclamation with their own ears, to let him move them to repentance and to the baptism for the remission of sins” (Lenski, 433). Those who went out to see John saw more than a prophet alright; they saw the one man whom God sent as a messenger to prepare the way for His only-begotten Son. And isn’t that what any faithful pastor-prophet in our day is supposed to do? John came baptizing and preaching the message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Isn’t that what any faithful pastor-prophet in our day is supposed to do? John pointed people to Jesus, “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn. 1:29). Isn’t that what any faithful pastor-prophet is supposed to do in the Church today? When the crowds asked John about this Jesus who seemed to be gaining more disciples than John did, John simply said, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn. 3:30). Isn’t that what any faithful steward of God’s mysteries is supposed to do—draw people’s attention more to the Savior and less to himself?

Yes, our Lord Jesus sends His prophets and His pastors out ahead of Him. He gives them the task of proclaiming Him, preparing the way for Him to come with salvation and healing in His wings. Our Lord gives His preachers today the same task that He gave to Isaiah or John or St. Paul centuries ago. He gives them a certain message to proclaim—a message of comfort, a message that our warfare against sin and death is ended in Christ Jesus, a message that our iniquity is pardoned and that we receive double the forgiveness in Christ crucified and risen. It’s a message that takes our eyes off of ourselves and puts them on Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away our sins. And pay close attention to those words when you sing them today. After you sing them, you will come to the Lord’s Table to eat and drink the Lamb of God and have your sins taken away. That’s how your Savior must increase, but your pastor must decrease! And not only must your pastor be a faithful, trustworthy steward of “the mysteries of God,” as St. Paul says, but he must also echo St. Paul’s other words: “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1Cor. 2:2).

What did you come out to see this morning? Hopefully not a preacher who sways like a reed with the ever-changing winds of popular opinion or human emotions! Hopefully not a preacher who strives for the soft clothing of so-called “success”! What did you come out to see? A prophet? Yes, and more than a prophet. I pray that you came out to see the Christ Himself. After all, the pastor-prophet is only good and useful if he draws your attention to the Savior who rescues you from death and sin. And that’s his job not just in the pulpit, but in everything else he does. Amen.

08 December 2016

Homily for Advent Evening Prayer 2

Waiting with Isaiah:
Waiting for God’s Promised Peace

Texts: Isaiah 11:1-10 and Romans 15:4-13

This Advent we are learning to wait with the Prophet Isaiah. After all, Advent is a time of waiting, of patiently preparing to receive our Coming King. Even though waiting and being patient do not come easily for us Americans, God does invite us to learn and grow in such virtues. Last week we heard about “Waiting for God’s Promised Justice.” Our normal sense of fairness, and fair play, demands that we get justice as soon as possible. However, God exhorts us to wait for Him to give justice. And justice He gives—in His Son Jesus Christ, in His victory over sin, death, and the devil for us.

Tonight, we focus on “Waiting for God’s Promised Peace.” Isaiah gives us quite the wonderful picture of God’s promised peace: “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together.” Wow! What a picture! After all, we know how wolves, leopards, and lions love to prey upon lambs, young goats, and fatted calves. We’ve come to expect such a “natural” food chain in nature. But it’s far from natural, at least as God first designed it. You see, when wolves eat little lambs for breakfast and lions devour fatted calves for supper, we see death—one creature sustaining its life by the death of another. That’s not the way God created His world to work.

And what about that Christmas-sounding line—“and a little child shall lead them”? Oh, we know better, don’t we? Little children cannot lead. Save the leading for older people, more mature people, people who have grown through the school of hard knocks, or experience in life, or politics, people who have gained their wisdom for dealing with the people they must lead. Again, it’s not the way God planned things from creation. You see, most leadership tactics have to stem the tide of the sin, death, and evil that we human creatures have brought into the world and onto ourselves.

But Isaiah’s picture is still God’s picture of promised peace. No more death. No more killing. No more intrigue and shady, back-room deals among authority figures. No, God’s peace brings real peace. It brings a world of creatures living and lying down together without fear of death. It brings the innocence, purity, simplicity, and trust of a little child as the way in which people deal with each other. As Isaiah says, “They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” I don’t know about you, but I can hardly wait to see that Day! But wait for it we must, because, obviously, we don’t see such a world of peace and innocence right now.

How does our gracious God accomplish this peace? Isaiah gives us another picture: “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.” Again, we hear a familiar Christmas-sounding picture. Let’s ponder this image. First, Isaiah speaks of a stump—a cut down tree, a lifeless hunk of wood sticking out of the ground, just waiting to trip up folks who walk by and don’t see it. Yes, God had to make this stump. It’s a picture of His Old Testament people. They had strayed from Him by worshiping foreign, false gods. They had ignored His many pleas to return to Him in repentance. So God chopped them down. The grand, glorious tree of God’s people had to be cut down and sawn into firewood. Only a stump remained.

That’s what our sin and death do to us. It may be the sin of getting upset with family members, with each other at church, or even with the tired, cranky store clerk who has dealt with all of those other impatient Christmas shoppers before you. Our sin and death may be our sheer greed in wanting only the best Christmas present for ourselves this Christmas. It may be our tendency to place so much attention on the “spirit of the season” and enjoying that “perfect Christmas” that we forget, or minimize, the God who took on our human flesh to give us His life and His Holy Spirit. So God comes to chop down our sinful pride, our impatience, and our self-reliance. That’s why we wait and prepare during Advent.

But Isaiah does not leave us with only the stump of a sawn down tree. The picture that brings us peace comes in that little “shoot from the stump of Jesse.” That tender little twig speaks loudly and clearly: the tree is not completely dead; the tree of God’s people will come back to life. That tender little shoot is none other than our Lord Jesus Christ. Yes, He comes as a tender little sapling, born of the pure Virgin. But don’t let His fragility in the manger fool you. This tender Root of Jesse brings God’s eternal peace. He ushers in God’s picture of lions and lambs dwelling together. He inaugurates the reign of innocence and purity among His people. This little shoot named Jesus would hang lifeless from a cross—another piece of lifeless, chopped down wood—but He brings the healing peace of God’s forgiveness for our impatience. His spilled blood brings the pardon for our prideful, self-absorbed ways.  And when He rises from the dead, He shows beyond all doubt that “righteousness shall be the belt of his waist, and faithfulness the belt of his loins.” This tender little shoot, whose birth we will celebrate in seventeen short days, brings God’s promised peace. “In that day the root of Jesse, who shall stand as a signal for the peoples—of him shall the nations inquire, and his resting place shall be glorious.”

But again, we must wait. We must wait until the celebration of our Lord’s Birth. It’s not Christmas just yet. We must wait until the Last Day to witness and enjoy the picture of peace between lions and lambs, the scene of utter innocence and purity among people.

And what shall we do until that Day? St. Paul says it well:  “Whatever was written in former days”—think of Isaiah, about 700 years before Christ—“was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” We wait, but we wait with hope. And hope is no mere wish, as in, “Gee, I hope we can have a white Christmas.” No, hope is as certain as a young Virgin carrying a Baby in her womb for nine months. All the peace of God is wrapped up in the little Infant inside His mother’s womb. It’s just a matter of time before He bursts forth. It’s just a matter of time before His peace reigns supreme for us to see. And so we wait with hope, with confident expectation, with eager anticipation. God’s promised peace does come and will come. It comes in the lifeblood of Jesus that actually gives forgiveness and life. It will come when He will chop down the ways of this God-ignoring world only to reveal the true life of peace and innocence for all eternity.

What else do we do as we wait for God’s promised peace? Listen to St. Paul again: “May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Now there’s a breath of invigorating fresh air in this world where we suffocate from living by the creed of “I gotta have it my way.” Our gracious God and Savior gives endurance to wait. He also gives us the ability to live in harmony with each other. In our world sadly divided by our individualism and our personal likes and dislikes, our gracious God says, “Live together in harmony with each other, because you are in one accord with Me.” In other words, God uses our time of waiting to train us in His promised peace. Better yet, when we, His redeemed people, live in harmony, Savior Jesus is showing how His cross-won peace is already breaking into our world, our hearts, our minds, and our lives. Call it a preview of Isaiah’s peace-filled picture. Call it a foretaste of the feast to come—both on Christmas Day and on the Last Day.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Amen.

01 December 2016

Homily for Advent Evening Prayer 1

Waiting with Isaiah:
Waiting for God’s Promised Justice

Texts: Isaiah 2:1-5 and Romans 13:8-14

We Americans are an impatient lot, aren’t we? When the speed limit sign says “60,” we insist on pushing “70”…at least. When we go to the store, we just expect our favorite products to be on the shelf; and when they’re not, we insist that we just cannot wait a few days. It gets really bad with things like email. We send an email to a loved one, a friend, or a co-worker, and if they don’t respond, say, within 5 minutes—10 at the outside—then we feel we are being ignored, snubbed. Yes, we are an impatient lot, we Americans. We want what we want, and we want it now…if not sooner.

But Advent is a time of waiting. Advent teaches us to wait, to be patient, to persevere. So, this Advent let’s learn how to wait with the Prophet Isaiah. Tonight and the next two Wednesdays we will focus on readings from Isaiah, readings that promise the Savior and His forgiveness, life, and salvation. These promises will teach us how to wait and what to wait for. We will also look to the New Testament reading each week to teach us how to live as we wait for God’s deliverance. How do we Christians live in this time of waiting until our Lord returns on the Last Day with His full and final salvation? Let’s use this Advent season to learn how to wait with Isaiah.

Isaiah lived and proclaimed God’s message about 700 years before Christ. It was a time of prominence for Judah and its capitol city Jerusalem, but the kingdom would soon decline in decades to follow. It was a time of international treaties and alliances as the king of Judah sought to protect his land from invading attackers. God’s people tended to trust those political alliances and solutions for their safety and security more than they trusted God and His promises. It was a time of prosperity as the people of Judah enjoyed their splendid homes, abundant possessions, and nice clothes. Does this sound at all familiar? It’s very much like our day, isn’t it?

So, God sent Isaiah to proclaim His words of judgment and promise to His people in this prosperous, prominent land, safe in its own “homeland security.” And Isaiah had some pretty stern things to say to this people redeemed by God. “Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth; for the Lord has spoken: ‘Children have I reared and brought up, but they have rebelled against me. The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand’” (Is. 1:2-3). God’s own people were laden with iniquity and dealt with each other corruptly. Isaiah even compared them to Sodom and Gomorrah! God used Isaiah to warn His people that He would have to remove all of their “nice things,” because they did not trust and cling to Him. He would take away “the finery of the anklets, the headbands, and the crescents; the pendants, the bracelets, and the scarves; the headdresses, the armlets, the sashes, the perfume boxes, and the amulets; the signet rings and nose rings; the festal robes, the mantles, the cloaks, and the handbags; the mirrors, the linen garments” (Is. 3:18-23) and so on. Well, there went that shopping list! All those treasured possessions from the 8th century B.C. version of the shopping mall and Best Buy would be gone!

But right in the middle of these two sermons of judgment, in the passage we hear tonight, Isaiah gives a sweet promise, a promise of the Lord’s holy mountain. The Lord’s mountain will be “lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it.” Yes, God would have to humble Jerusalem, but He promised to lift it up again. And what would happen on God’s holy mountain? People would invite one another to go up to it “that [God] may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” Instead of being consumed by and worried over the things of international politics and how to have lots of stuff in nice big houses, God’s people would much rather have His teachings and His paths. Isaiah also says, “[God] shall judge between the nations, and shall decide disputes for many peoples.” God would work His pure, fair, and loving justice. And here’s what it would look like: “they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.” There would be actual, real-life, world peace—not just a dream, but a reality.

Great picture, isn’t it? I’m sure that people who first heard Isaiah’s words would say, “Please, show us this mountain!” Even now, 2700 years later, we want to say, “Please, show us this mountain!” But the people would have to wait for this promised paradise. They would have to wait about 700 years. You see, “the mountain of the house of the LORD” would be built from the wood of a cross on a hill outside Jerusalem. The Lord Himself would come and build it, but He would build it by dying on that cross. Yes, God would work His justice, but He would do so through the weakness of His Son being born of a virgin, living a humble, penniless life, suffering rejection and crucifixion, and then rising again on the third day. The mountain of the Lord is Mt. Calvary. His cross shows His ways of mercy, forgiveness, and true life. His path leads us to trust and enjoy Him much more than the national security or seasonal goodies of our day. The Lord would work His justice by conquering our real enemies: sin, death, and the devil.

Now, at first, we may say, “Well, they had to wait for the Lord’s promised justice, but we know it’s already come.” Yes, people had to wait 700 years to see how God would give justice by forgiving sins in Christ Jesus. So, why do we need to learn to wait? Don’t we already have God’s justice? Yes, we do. His justice, His righteousness, His forgiveness, comes in Christ Jesus, wrapped in human flesh and bone, hung on a cross, and risen again. But we still wait. We wait for that final grand display of God’s justice when Christ shall return on the Last Day.

But it’s so hard to wait, isn’t it? We are an impatient lot, even though we know the promise fulfilled on Calvary. It’s hard enough to wait until December 25th each year before we start celebrating Christmas. We want the celebration right now, on our terms, with all of the material trappings of the season. We want the picture-perfect Christmas with all the sugary joy and smiling cheer, hot cider and Christmas sweaters, and everyone else doing things our way.

But have you ever noticed how tired, tense, and irritable we can become this time of year? Focusing on ourselves does that! When things don’t go our way, what do we do? Complain. Complain about the driver who cut you off on the way to the mall. Complain about not finding the right gift for that certain someone. Complain if things don’t look, sound, or go as you want in church, at work, or at home. Complain…. Well, you can fill in the blank. We want the perfect celebration of Christmas now, and if we don’t get it, well….

We really need to hear St. Paul’s words in our second reading: “Owe no one anything, except to love each other…. Love does no wrong to a neighbor.” That’s God’s promised justice! Now that He has conquered our sin and death, we are free to love one another. We are free to take our eyes off of ourselves and put them on our neighbor. We are free to wait for God to deliver the perfect Christmas. We are free because “salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” We are free to “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.” We are free to put off the drunkenness and sensuality and indulgence of this time of year. We are free to put off the quarreling and jealousy that happens at home, at work, and at church.

And how are we free from all that? God has worked His promised justice already in His Son Jesus. God promises something far, far better than the “perfect Christmas.” He promises real, eternal peace that comes only by feasting our eyes, our ears, and our hearts on the Son of God made flesh. Whatever happens to us in the meantime, whatever disappointments we endure, we can persevere. We can wait. You see, when we “put on the Lord Jesus Christ,” we can resist gratifying our selfish desires. His mercy helps us wait. So, “house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” Amen.