Homily for Advent 2 - Populus Zion (2018)

Coming Redemption
Luke 21:25-36

Our Coming King has three advents—first, His past coming in the flesh, into time and space; second, His ongoing coming in grace by means of word, water, and bread and wine; and third, His future coming in glory for judgment on the Last Day. In all three advents—past, ongoing, and future—our Lord makes His redemption draw near. Our task, then, is to straighten up and raise our heads. Our task is to stay awake and watch. So says our Lord in today’s Gospel.

“There will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth distress of nations in perplexity because of the roaring of the sea and the waves.” Catastrophic changes showing the world coming unglued. God’s good and orderly creation will become unstable and revert to chaos. It’s what happens when God withdraws His loving, creating hand. It’s also what happens when God steps into His creation to bring His redemption.

“People fainting with fear and with foreboding of what is coming on the world.” Jesus’ future coming will be alarming and cataclysmic for every person, all peoples, every nation, all round the globe. Those who do not hear His Word will have nothing but fainting, fear, and foreboding. But those who do “hear the Word of God and keep it” (Lk. 11:28) will receive the ungluing of creation and the alarming cataclysm with comfort and hope. You see, the coming universal cataclysm points to the coming of our Savior, the Son of God, bringing His redemption near. “Then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.”

So when you see these things taking place, stand up, raise your head, and rejoice. Your redemption, your rescue, is coming!

Now this Day of Judgment stuff can get quite confusing and misleading because of false teachings that run rampant. One of those false teachings is “Millennialism.” Millennialism teaches a literal one thousand-year visible reign of Jesus on earth before His final judgment. Like the Jews of Jesus’ day, some believe such a visible reign of the Messiah would bring a whole millennium of earthly peace and prosperity, with believers serving as Jesus’ cabinet members, so to speak.

This false view comes from a literalistic reading of Revelation 20—where those who did not worship the beast “came to life and reigned with Christ for a thousand years” (Rev. 20:4). What Millennialism misses is that the Bible often uses numbers symbolically. Taken with all of Scripture, the thousand years refers to the fully complete time of Jesus’ reign over His Church from His ascension until the Last Day.

A second false teaching about the end of time and Jesus’ return is “the Rapture.” Rapture teaching says that Jesus’ followers will be “caught up…in the air” and removed from the earth. And this will be a secret snatching by Jesus. Think the Left Behind books and movies popular several years ago. One person—the believer—will be taken, and the other person—the unbeliever—will be left, this teaching claims. And Rapture teachers even debate and dispute among themselves. Will this secret taking be “pre-“ or “post-“? Pre-millennium—before the thousand years—or Post-millennium—after the thousand years? Just when will Jesus secretly snatch His followers so they can avoid enduring the time of tribulation?

The problem with Rapture teaching is that it turns the simple, comforting hope of Jesus’ return into complicated stages of uncertainties. It also denies that Christians do indeed suffer before the Last Day, and it claims, against the Bible, that those who reject Jesus will have a second chance to believe in Him and receive salvation during His earthly reign.

And a third false teaching about the end of time is “Reincarnation.” Simply put, Reincarnation believes that when people die, they are reborn in other earth-bound bodies or a series of other bodies. Think chiefly of Hinduism or Buddhism. As a kissing cousin belief, we might also think of that often-heard saying at funerals, that when a loved one dies, he or she “becomes an angel.”

Whether it’s Reincarnation or human beings transmuting into angelic beings, such teachings deny our Lord’s promise of the resurrection of the body at His return. Jesus did say, “An hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment” (Jn. 5:28-29). Hebrews also says, “It is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment” (Heb. 9:27).

So when you see these things taking place…and when you hear such false teachings running rampant…stand up, raise your head, and rejoice. Your redemption, your rescue, is coming!

What will happen on that great and glorious Day when our Lord Jesus returns? Scripture keeps it clear and simple and comforting.

• Jesus will visibly appear in glory with His angels (Matt. 25:31), and everyone will see Him. No secrets.
• The many vying, conflicting kingdoms of this world will give way to the one eternal reign of Jesus, and “the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it” (Rev. 21:24).
• The dead will be raised bodily. The bodies of all believers—both those still alive and those raised from the grave—will be glorified (1 Cor. 15:51-52).
• King Jesus will judge all people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats (Matt. 25:31-46).
• Satan will be vanquished and banished forever (Rev. 20:10).
• The current fallen creation will be cleansed and purified by fire, and we will get to see, hear, touch, taste, and smell the “new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells” (2 Pet. 3:7-13).
• We will be reunited with all who have died in the faith (Rev. 7:9)—our Christian loved ones, friends, mentors, and so on.
• We will rejoice and exult at the great marriage feast of the Lamb and His Bride made ready, clothed with fine linen, bright and pure (Rev. 19:6-9).
• And, finally, we will see God face to face, and He will dwell with us forever (Rev. 21:3; 22:4), just as He intended in the beginning.

So, whether you see the whole universe coming unglued as Jesus says, or whether your own personal universe comes unglued in smaller ways, “straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” Raise your heads because your redemption began drawing near when the sun hid its light and the earth quaked on Good Friday as Jesus hung lifeless on a tree for you. Raise your heads because your redemption drew nearer when the Sun of righteousness—the Word made flesh—rose bodily on the third day with healing in His wings for you. Raise your heads because your true and only King has ascended to the right hand of the Father where all things are under His feet, where He rules over all authority and power and dominion, and where even now He blesses you with “every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (Eph. 1:3).

Your coming redemption is also already here. It draws near in the washing of regeneration and renewal. It draws near in Jesus’ words that will not pass away. It draws near when you feed on Jesus’ flesh and drink His blood. “Whoever feeds on [His] flesh and drinks [His] blood has eternal life, and [Jesus] will raise him up on the last day” (Jn. 6:54).

“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” (Rom. 15:13). Amen.

Homily for Holy Thursday - 2018

"A Meal for the Wounded"
Exodus 24:3-11

Listen here.

Did they realize what they promised? Did the Hebrews in the wilderness have the first clue what they were agreeing to? “All that the Lord has spoken we will do.” We don’t need to think about everything the Lord had commanded to realize the hopelessness of their response. We can think merely of the two chief commandments—the ones our Lord uses to sum up the whole Law: love the Lord your God with all of your all, and love your neighbor as yourself. “We will do that, and we will be obedient.” Really? With all of your all? From the very depths of your being?

Have you ever tried it? To love God with all of your all, I mean. Your heart undivided by competing loyalties, but given to God and to Him alone. Your only desire to enjoy His presence and to do His bidding. Your only fear that you will cause Him some displeasure. You go, give it a whirl, and let me know how it goes! And then there is your neighbor, the one made in God’s own image. Love this one as yourself. Or, again, as our Lord paraphrased, do to others as you want others to do to you. Have you given it a yeoman’s try? You most certainly should!

But I’m afraid you and I would end up about as successful as the people of Israel who offered up their big promise, but then promptly fell flat on their faces. Their journey through the wilderness to the Promised Land was hardly a display of loving God above all and loving neighbor as self. Instead, there was grumbling against God and the way He led them; distrust that He would provide them with water, with food; neighbor squabbling with neighbor and wearing Moses out as he sat on the judgment bench from dawn til dusk trying to settle their petty squabbles. “All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient.” Eh, not so much.

Yet despite their words, despite their foolish trust in themselves and in what they could muster, the covenant was sealed with blood. Part of the blood went on the altar; part, on the people. And with the blood came forgiveness. For “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Heb. 9:22). And right on the heels of the blood sprinkling the people, Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy elders of Israel climbed the mountain to behold the wonder of God’s glory. They saw Him, and the beauty wounded their hearts. There He was upon His throne. At His feet a pavement as of sapphire, blue and crystal clear as the sky above. Now in God’s presence, covered in the shed blood, they were able to sit down and to eat, and they did not die, but they lived—though they knew they had no right to see such holiness and continue breathing.

They lived despite the fact that they did not keep their end of the covenant. They lived despite the fact that they had not loved God with all of their all. They lived despite the fact that they did not love their neighbor as themselves. They lived because they were under the blood, and under that blood the presence of God came to them as an experience of life, not death.

Today is Holy (Maundy) Thursday. We are well aware that we have failed to keep this covenant of the Lord. The Ten Commandments, which spell out the shape of love in our lives, accuse us without end: No, we do not love the Lord with anything close to our all. No, we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. Like Israel of old, we have not kept the words of the Lord to do them, no matter how many times we have promised to do better, to change our ways. Yet Jesus still comes to us this night and prepares a gift for His people—a gift that has been on God’s heart from before time began; a gift that will go on sustaining His people until the day of His glorious appearing. He provides a meal for His wounded people, for His broken people who do not live up to His covenant of love. He feeds them with His own Body and Blood so that they might live, so that they might be forgiven, healed, and restored.

Do you realize why there is life in that Body and Blood? Because it is the very Body and Blood of the One in whom there is nothing but love—love for His Father with all His heart, mind, soul, and strength; love with all of His all. And not only that, there was love for the neighbor, for you and me and for every member of our fallen race. Jesus loved us as Himself, indeed more than Himself. For us He will allow that body to be nailed to the tree and that blood to stain the earth, wiping out the curse of the Law that is against us. You see, the Law can never condemn Him. After all, His whole being—His every word and thought and action—always was and always is only love. And He calls us to live under that blood.

Now, to live under that blood means we get to taste something greater and better than the food that Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and the other seventy elders of Israel ever knew. We not only eat and drink in the presence of the All-Holy One, but also through our faithful eating and drinking, He—the God of Israel, who appeared in glory to the ancients, who is now made flesh—He comes to us. He enters us with His forgiveness. He plants within us wounded people a life that death cannot overcome. We live because of what He gives us to eat and to drink: the Body and the Blood of Him who is Love—Love incarnate, Love crucified, Love risen, Love triumphant and coming in glory. “Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Ps. 34:8).

Jesus said, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you” (John 13:34). And Jesus gives you the strength to do just that. With this gift of His Body and Blood, this gift of His love for you, Jesus Himself pours into you the strength of your love for Him and for one another. His gift in the Supper guarantees that what you now enjoy in a hidden and mystical way will be your eternal joy in the life to come. His gift gives you the courage and strength to sing and pray, even as death comes to you:

Be Thou my consolation,
My shield, when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee,
Who dieth thus dies well. (LSB 450:7)

Wrapped in His cross, marked with His blood of the covenant, fed with the Body and Blood of Him who is Love incarnate and immortal, you will be prepared for your passion, your suffering, and your death whenever it comes. You will be held by a love that is stronger than death. You will be held by a forgiveness that is greater than all your sin. To Him alone be glory forever—our Lord Jesus, who gives us this meal to heal the wounded with His love. Amen.

Homily for Transfiguration - 2018

"Transfigured"
Matthew 17:1-9

Listen here.

Make no mistake about it. When you see Jesus transfigured on the mountaintop, you see your own glorious future. You also will be transformed and transfigured. But also, don’t doubt this: it will be a rough, dark road to get you there.

This glorious sight of Jesus outshining the sun itself is no random event, no mere magic show. Jesus is not just showing off His divine glory. No, this event is intimately connected to what happened six days earlier. Jesus had asked His disciples who they confessed Him to be. Peter spoke up for all of them: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matt. 16:16). “Well done, Peter!” Jesus said. “You’re confessing the faith that My Father has given you. Believe me, I will build My church on that very confession.” Then Jesus spoke of going to Jerusalem, suffering many things, being killed, and then being raised on the third day. We accept the words well enough, but Peter strongly objected: “Never Lord! How can you even think that?” So Jesus countered and corrected Peter: “Get behind me, Satan! … You are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man” (Matt. 16:23).

We, like Peter, love the picture and promise of radiant glory. We’re not so sure about the harsh reality of gloomy suffering—not for Jesus, and certainly not for ourselves.

So when Jesus is transfigured—revealing Himself as the very source of all light and glory—He seeks to comfort and sustain His distressed disciples. Suffering? Death? Cold, dark grave? The mere thoughts of such things, let alone going through them, lay us flat like a boxer giving a gut punch followed by an undercut. Jesus knows His disciples are laid flat by His prediction of the Passion. He wants to encourage them and sustain them. It’s as if Jesus is telling them, “Yes, it will be dark and deadly. Yes, you too will be shaken to the core, as well as opposed, hunted down, imprisoned, even executed just for confessing Me. But let not your hearts be troubled. Here is what lies on the other side of suffering and death, both Mine and yours.”

You see, this was not the first time that Jesus was transfigured and transformed. He has been the radiant, brilliant source of all light and glory since before the beginning of time—along with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Then, when the time was right, the Son of God actually transformed Himself by taking on our human flesh and blood. In taking our humanity into Himself, He transfigured Himself—He hid Himself—in humility.

So when Jesus predicts His passion and death, He’s simply unveiling what lies further back in the deep dark recesses of His glory—His suffering in the garden, His arrest, His trial, His bearing the cross to Golgotha, the pounding of spikes into His hands and feet, the lifting of the cross into its place, and the weight of His body hanging from wrists nailed into the cross beam. This is the Son of God completely revealing Himself. This is His real glory—suffering so to redeem and forgive us sinners who had fallen from our glory. It’s on the mount called Calvary that you are transfigured.

Peter, James, and John basked in and soaked up the brilliant glory of Jesus transfigured. Peter even wanted to extend his mountaintop experience with a bunch of tents. Moses and Elijah, though, were there for a different purpose. Yes, they are heroes of the faith—Moses the icon of the Law and Elijah the representative of the prophets. Yes, Moses’ skin shone with a most incredible suntan after his time on the mountain with God. Yes, Elijah was taken to heaven in a fiery chariot, and hence did not taste death. But Moses and Elijah were also there as fellow sufferers with Jesus. Consider the many times God’s people rejected Moses with their complaining over things as mundane as food and water. Remember the times that Elijah had to flee for his life from the government out to get him or the time he took on the many prophets of Baal. The same people rejected Jesus. On top of that, Moses and Elijah appeared to speak with Jesus about His “exodus”—His soon-to-come suffering, His pending Passion (Lk. 9:31).

With all of this darkness and gloom hanging over the disciples, they desperately needed some encouragement, some hope, some promise. That’s why Jesus shone brighter than the sun—just a small glimpse of what lies ahead. That’s why the Father’s voice boomed from the cloud: “This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.” That voice still bids us to listen to Him, and Him alone. And we find that voice speaking ever so clearly in the Scriptures. After all, here’s “the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”

Here’s what awaits all who follow Jesus—first, the suffering and dying of a fallen world; then, the glory and radiance of new life with Jesus. It’s the way it works since we humans first transfigured ourselves from God’s holy people into the devil’s sinful slaves. We should have had the brilliance of a trusting, loving relationship with God all along. Instead, we chose the nakedness of self-centered shame. Instead of being clothed with God’s glory, we had to settle for being covered by garments of animal skins.

But Jesus has come to reverse all that. He’s the new Moses as He leads us out of our slavery to sin and death and into the Promised Land of His mercy, forgiveness, and eternal life. He’s the new Elijah—surpassing all the prophets—because He alone has the words of eternal life. He is transfigured on one mountain, but on a different mountain—the one called Calvary—He accomplishes your transfiguration. He transforms you from sinners to saints, from people suffocating in death to people breathing the very air of life.

Make no mistake about it. The transfiguring and transforming continues. He who was transfigured from humility back into glory now comes transforming Himself in the bread and wine of His holy Supper. And with that Meal, He begins and continues transforming our lowly bodies to be like His glorious body. “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:18).

So we live patiently and trustingly, awaiting that day when our own transformation will burst forth with brilliance. Much like putting up with the inconveniences of renovating an organ or soon a sanctuary, we bear with those things that are not yet set right—the crosses we bear, the sorrows we endure, the losses we suffer. But as we live patiently and trustingly, we draw strength and resolve from our transfigured Lord of glory. He sustains us. He gives the promise, the hope, the courage.

And so we can be people of life in this world of death. By God’s grace in Jesus, we can resist being conformed to this world. Instead, we are transformed by Jesus renewing our minds, by discerning what His good and acceptable and perfect will is. We can rejoice with those who march for life year after year. We can work with those who help mommies and daddies to keep their babies as well as teach them how to be better parents. We can run into the muck and the mess of our culture of death—this culture bent on snuffing out lives in the womb and shortening the lives of those who suffer or become frail with age. You see, our Lord of glory gave those people their very lives. He wants to protect their lives. He wants to transform them to eternal life too.

Our transfigured Lord reveals Himself to be the Lord of life in the face of death. This glorious revelation sustains us and gives us hope and courage as we journey through the valley of the shadow of death. Through Jesus’ transfiguration, “The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him” (Rom. 8:16-17). Amen.

Homily for Epiphany 2 - 2018

"New Wine"
John 2:1-11

Listen here.

Put yourself in the shoes of the master of the feast. You’re putting on the wedding banquet of the year for everyone in Cana of Galilee. The groom, the bride, and all the guests have been counting on you to provide the best food, the best drink, the best celebration—a celebration to give lasting memories for years. Then you notice a major faux pas. It would make you—along with the bride and groom—the laughingstock of the century. Running out of wine? At the wedding of the year? Who could ever live that down?

Then, in the midst of the stress and the shame, your employees bring you a cup. More wine? New wine? Where did this come from? Then you take a sip. NEW WINE! Better wine than what you first served. Better than anything you’ve ever tasted! Where did THAT come from?!

What IS this new wine? Did Adam and Eve have such good wine in the Garden of Eden? If they did, the wine at Cana might just be on par with it, if not better yet. We do know this is NOT the kind of wine that made Noah drunk (Gen. 9:21). It’s not the kind of wine that led Lot’s daughters to make him drunk so they could have children by him (Gen. 19:32). None of that debauchery with Jesus’ new wine.

We might get a hint of this new wine in the sacrifices of the tabernacle and the temple. Take a lamb, add some fine flour, and a bit of beaten oil for the main course, and then some wine for the drink offering (Ex. 29:40). God included wine on the menu for many of the sacrifices in His place of worship. In fact, He even prescribed only the best flour, the best oil, and the best wine—the first fruits (Deut. 18:12).

Then, when God’s people returned from exile and got reacquainted with God’s good Word and teaching, God used Ezra and Nehemiah to remind them of His joy for them. He wanted to turn their 70 years of repentance into lasting and ongoing joy. “Don’t weep and mourn anymore,” God said, “but rather eat the fat, drink the sweet wine, and share with those who aren’t ready.” After all, that day was “holy to our Lord.” And here’s the heart of the message: “Do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength” (Neh. 8:10).

The psalmist speaks of wine that gladdens the heart of man (Ps. 104:15), but this new wine that Jesus brings goes beyond that First Article gift. This is the wine that made David sing, “Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Ps. 34:8). The wine of God rescuing him; the wine of safety, security, and joy in the joy of the Lord Himself. Truly a gift of the Second and Third Articles.

This new wine of Jesus is the wine spoken of by the prophet Amos—the mountains dripping sweet wine, the hills flowing with it (Amos 9:13). This wine comes from the Divine Vintner who raises up the fallen tent of David, who repairs and rebuilds His people, who makes them His Church that will stand for all eternity. It’s the wine that Isaiah also proclaimed—the Lord making a feast on His mountain, a feast of rich, fatty food and well-aged, well-refined wine (Is. 25:6-8). You see, on that same mountain God Himself would feast on something completely different: He would swallow up death forever.

The new wine that appeared suddenly and miraculously at Cana of Galilee is the wine of new life and resurrection for you and for me.

Ah, but it’s not yet Jesus’ “hour” when He confronts those empty jars and that embarrassing void of wedding wine. Yet Jesus still gives a prelude, a preview, a teaser trailer of what He actually came to do. Those empty wine cups? Those empty water jars? He would fill them. And in filling them, He would fill the people who drank from them. He would fill them not only with savory fruit of the vine, but also and especially with His saving life.

Jesus is no mere bartender rushing in to rescue a wedding party on the brink of collapse. He has a bigger and better purpose. He comes to rescue the whole human race—people like you and me; people including you and me—from their emptiness of God’s goodness. When His “hour” does come—on the cross—He will drink the bitter cup of God’s wrath and judgment. He will be the laughingstock of all around Him, even spurned by His closest friends. He will suffer the shame and humiliation of a cross. He will swallow up death forever. But in drinking that bitter cup, He will ensure that we can taste and see that the Lord is good. He will make death itself void and bare. He will give us the sweet joy of the Lord. That’s the sweet wine delivered at Cana. It’s also the sweet wine delivered here at this altar today.

Your Lord Jesus comes to fill your emptiness. We live in a world that has so much stuff, such overloaded schedules, such a plethora of things and people and activities for filling our lives. And still we are empty on the inside. Some try to fill the emptiness with the old wine, or old booze, of this fallen world. Some try to fill the emptiness with the fruits of the sexual revolution—free sex with whomever you wish, without all the so-called constraints of one man-one woman marriage for life. Some try to fill the emptiness with the meaning of “likes” or “follows” or viral videos on social media. For those who fill themselves with the booze, the numbness eventually wears off and the emptiness remains. For those who fill themselves with the sexual conquests du jour, they still sense the emptiness of commitment and real love. For those who get their meaning from clicks and likes, well, we know how quickly things change in Internet land.

What’s your emptiness? What is it that makes you think and feel that if you could have that one thing, you would finally be complete and whole? Whatever worldly, created thing you think could fill that emptiness, just know that it can’t; it won’t.

Jesus gives the new wine at Cana’s wedding to show you that He fills your emptiness with Himself. Just as He filled the stone water jars with the best wine, and just as He restored the joy of the bride, the groom, and the master of the feast, so also He restores you and your joy by filling you with Himself—with His forgiveness, with His life, with His salvation. You are cleansed by the purifying water of His Baptism. You are filled with the new wine of His Supper.

So your God has joy in you, and He restores that joy in you by revealing His Son—the Bridegroom of the feast. We don’t need to get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery. Instead, let’s be filled with the Spirit. Let’s address one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs. Let’s sing and make melody to the Lord with our hearts (Eph. 5:18-19).

We don’t need to fill ourselves with the ways of the world when it comes to sex and marriage. Instead, let’s remember and extol the profound mystery of Christ and His Church—the profound mystery of the one-flesh union of love, life, and commitment. That profound mystery reveals itself in joyful little glimpses when wives submit to their husbands as to the Lord and when husbands love their wives as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself for her.

What IS this new wine? It’s Jesus revealing Himself to you and for you. It’s Jesus bringing you into the joy of His Father and the Holy Spirit. It’s Jesus filling your emptiness with Himself—His life, His resurrection, and His joyous purpose in life. “Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready” (Rev. 19:7). Amen.

Homily for Holy Trinity Sunday - 2017

"What Is Faith?"
John 3:1-17

Listen here.

Trying to understand the Holy Trinity is a lot like using a fire hose to fill a tea cup and not spilling a drop. It’s a good thing that Father, Son, and Holy Spirit does not call us to understand Him! Rather, He calls us to believe in Him, have faith in Him, and so worship Him. As we will confess shortly, “Whoever desires to be saved must, above all, hold the catholic faith”—not understanding. “And the catholic faith is this, that we worship one God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity….”

In John 1:12, the Apostle John writes: “To all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” What is this believing? What does faith involve?

Just before Jesus conversed with Nicodemus, St. John also tells us: “Many believed in his name when they saw the signs that he was doing. But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man” (Jn. 2:23-25). This little commentary by John raises the question, “What is faith?” Our Gospel today—Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus—answers that question.

What is faith? First of all, faith is not just seeing miracles and being drawn to the One who performs them. You see, miracles can often be misunderstood. Remember the story of the Feeding of the 5,000 (John 6:1-15)? The crowd saw and realized the miracle Jesus had done, and so they wanted to make Him king. But they only wanted a “bread king”—a king who would satisfy their earthly wants and desires. So Jesus preached a sermon to them. He told them that He is the true Bread from heaven. He told them that whoever eats His flesh and drinks His blood would live forever. That’s what the miracle pointed to. But they would not believe that. So John tells us that many of them “turned back and no longer walked with him” (Jn. 6:66).

Also, faith is not just an interest in Jesus as a great Teacher. He certainly is a great Teacher, to be sure. That’s how Nicodemus first approached Jesus: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” Many others said the same thing. There was the rich man who came to Jesus and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mk. 10:17). But then Jesus told him to sell all his possessions, and the man “went away sorrowful” (Mk. 10:22). Even the scribes and Pharisees recognized Jesus as a Teacher. One day one of them came to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” (Mt. 22:36). But they were not really interested in His answer; they were just trying to trip Him up and trap Him.

So faith is not merely hanging on to Jesus as a miracle-worker or recognizing Him as a great Teacher. What, then, is faith? In our Gospel reading, Jesus tells Nicodemus that faith is a matter of being reborn. “Unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God,” Jesus says. Nicodemus misunderstands. So Jesus says: “Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” In other words, faith is the work of God the Holy Spirit in us. Poor Nicodemus is still confused. So he asks, “How can these things be?” But a how question is not the right question. So Jesus points him—and us—to the what.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” Faith is holding on to and trusting in the love of God, the love that gave His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, to the world. “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Faith is hanging on to and clinging to that love, no matter how strange or difficult things in our lives may seem.

So Jesus gives Nicodemus an example from their own history: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.” Remember the story? The Israelites were on their way through the wilderness to the Promised Land. As they were accustomed to do, they were rebelling against God and complaining about the bleak wilderness they were in. So God sent poisonous snakes among them. When the snakes bit the people, the people started to die. Then they came to their senses and repented. So God told Moses to make a bronze serpent and put it up on a pole. That serpent on the pole would be their deliverance and healing. Whoever was bitten and looked at that serpent would live.

Now God could have simply gotten rid of the snakes. But He wanted to save His people through faith. He wanted them to believe Him and take Him at His word that if they looked up to that serpent on the pole, they would live.

Now, of course, that serpent on the pole was a sign that pointed ahead to something much greater. It pointed to the love that God showed to a rebellious world. It pointed to the Son of Man who was lifted up on the Cross. And whoever looks to this Cross will see God’s love wrapped up in flesh and blood—our very deliverance and healing from sin and death. Whoever believes in Him—holding on to Him, clinging to Him—should not perish but have eternal life.

Now God could have simply snapped His fingers and rid the world of sin and death. But He wanted to save us through faith. He wanted—and still wants—us to believe Him and take Him at His word that when we look to His only-begotten Son, we will live.

So, what is faith? Faith is believing the greatest miracle and teaching of all—that God loved the world in such a way that He sent His Son to suffer and die for all, so that we can have life in Him. It’s a life we were given when we were born anew and born from above by water and the Spirit in Holy Baptism. It’s a life that He puts into us every time we eat our Lord’s flesh and drink His blood in the Holy Supper. It’s a life that will keep and preserve us, no matter how difficult or trying our lives may be. It’s eternal life even now, life that will continue into the eternal kingdom that He has prepared for us.

Nicodemus may not have received all the answers he was looking for. We may not receive all the answers we look for either. That’s why faith is not chiefly about understanding. So we simply believe, hold on to, and cling to the love of God that He has shown us in Christ Jesus our Lord—a love lifted up on the Cross and raised from the dead. “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and how inscrutable His ways!” That’s why faith simply cries out: “For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever. Amen.”

Homily for Lent 5 - Judica - 2017

"Never See Death"
John 8:42-59

Listen here.

They picked up stones to throw at Jesus, but He hid Himself and went out of the temple.

Why did they want to kill Jesus? Because He was telling them things that didn’t fit into what they thought their religion was. Earlier He told them they were from below, but He was from above. He told them they were of this world, but He was not of this world (John 8:23). Earlier He told them, “If you abide in my word, you are truly My disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31).

They replied by saying that they were descendants of Abraham, that they had never not been free, that they had never been enslaved to anyone. I guess they conveniently forgot the facts of their past and their present—slavery in Egypt, exile in Babylon, and then occupation by Rome. They misunderstood what Jesus was telling them. He meant that they were slaves to sin and death. He meant that He, the Son, had come to set them free. But they would not recognize or admit their slavery. And thus they would not accept Jesus’ Word. So they remained enslaved in their sin.

Then in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” Another word of Jesus that they have difficulty hearing and accepting. Who does this Jesus think He is? Our Father Abraham died. The prophets died. Everyone dies. So Jesus has to tell them yet another word: “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.”

Who is this Man? This is the Son of God, the eternal Son of the Father, the One who was with the Father before all things were made. This is the One who became incarnate, who came into our world, who took on our flesh and bone and body. He is the timeless One, the One who existed before Abraham, and yet He also became Abraham’s descendant. He is the One—the only One—who can say, ”If anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.”

Scripture gives no record of these exact words being spoken to Abraham, but it is the Word that Abraham believed, kept, and held onto. Remember how he saddled his donkey and took his only son, whom he loved, to the mountain as the Lord directed him. Remember how he took the wood and laid it on the back of his beloved son. Remember how he built the altar, most likely with the help of his son, and then tied up his son and laid him on top of the altar. Abraham held onto the Word of the Lord as “he considered that God was able even to raise [Isaac] from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back” (Heb. 11:19). Yes, Abraham believed and kept the Word of the Lord, and that day his son Isaac did not see death.

Genesis says that God did this to test Abraham. But it was more than a test; it was also a type, a picture, a forecast of another Son of Abraham, our Lord Jesus Himself. Jesus is the promised Son who carries the wood of His cross upon His back, and He goes back up Calvary’s mountain to make the great sacrifice to save us from our sin. He is the beloved Son who is bound—willingly—and laid upon the altar of the cross to rescue us from death. He is the Lamb whom God provides for Himself for a burnt offering. He is the Lamb who is offered for us, who is willingly caught in the thicket of our sin and wears the crown of thorns upon His head. Yes, on that Mount of the Lord, Jesus provided our deliverance from sin and death.

So, yes, Jesus can say, if anyone keeps His Word, that person will never see death. Because Jesus came to see death for us. He came to drink the cup of suffering in order that we may be released from death’s power. He came to be our High Priest who entered into the Holy Place of Heaven and with His own blood gained everlasting redemption for His people, that we might receive the promised eternal inheritance. He came to offer Himself without blemish to God and spill His innocent blood to purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God. As we keep and hold onto His Word, we are rescued from death’s sting and its eternal judgment.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You also have His Word. If you keep it and hold onto it, you gain a share in that life which is stronger than death. Martin Luther proclaimed it this way: “Whoever, therefore, heeds God’s Word has both its glory and benefit: glory, in that he is of God and is God’s child; benefit, in that the Word which he believes saves him. And though he will still become ill, be assailed somewhat by the devil, and experience physical death, yet at the moment his soul is released he will, as it were, fall asleep and come into Christ’s bosom, with the angels ministering to him and bearing him up, so that his foot is not dashed against a stone, as promised in Psalm 91:12” (House Postils, 1:364).

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You have His Word. Keep it and hold onto it for dear life. Jesus is the One who promises: “I AM the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die” (John 11:25-26). If you believe in Jesus, you already have eternal life. And nothing can take that away from you.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You have His Word. Keep it and hold onto it for dear life. He is the One who promises: “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him” (John 6:54-55). If you are united to Jesus in His Holy Supper, you already have the victory over death, because His risen and glorified Body and Blood give you His life, now and forever. Amen.

Homily for Lent 4 - Laetare - 2017

"God's Food"
John 6:1-15

Listen here.

From a mere five loaves of barley bread and two small fish Jesus feeds 5000 men plus women and children. And each person in this multitude received more than just a little crumb or two. They ate “as much as they wanted.” And the disciples gathered 12 baskets of left overs. After all, waste not, want not. From empty, grumbling bellies to full, contented tummies.

But what on earth are we doing with this great story of Jesus feeding the multitude in the middle of Lent? Isn’t Lent a time when we learn to fast, to discipline ourselves and our appetites, to prepare for Easter by restraining ourselves now so that we can feast later? Lent is not over yet, but today we get this story of God’s food?

On Ash Wednesday we began the stark season of Lent with our Lord Jesus talking about doing works of charity, praying, and fasting. On the First Sunday in Lent we heard how Adam and Eve chose not to fast but rather to indulge their appetite for the forbidden fruit. Because of their ravenous sin, we all suffer the disease of death. We also heard how Jesus defeated Satan’s temptations not by indulging His desire for food, but by fasting from it and relying on the “food” of God’s Word. Lent is a time to separate ourselves from relying on food, a time to reign in our appetites, a time to tell the body, “Body, you’re not my master; God is my loving Master.”

But now we get to rejoice in food, glorious food? With half of Lent still ahead of us?

The Latin name for today is Laetare—meaning “Rejoice!” It could be that in the early days of the Christian calendar this day was the final day of regular eating before the fasting time of Lent—something like “Mardi Gras” is today. Then the season of Lent developed into the “forty days of purple” we know and love so well. This Sunday called Laetare, or “Rejoice!”, has become a sort of Rest Area along the freeway. We get to pull off the long highway of Lent for just a brief pause—take a stretch, get some refreshment, and get ready for the final leg of the journey as we approach Passiontide, Holy Week and then arrive at Easter.

Yet even as we take our pit stop and look down the road where we are about to go—to the Cross and the Empty Tomb—we still get to live in repentance. Notice how the disciples worried and fretted over their food. Jesus asked them, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” You can almost see the anxiety on their faces. Philip said, “Uh, Lord, 200 days’ wages worth of bread would not be sufficient.” In the currency of our day, that’s at least $12,000 worth of food. Andrew spotted a boy with five barley loaves and two fish, or perhaps fish cakes, in his lunch basket. “But what are they for so many?” he asked with worry and doubt dripping from his words. Poor Philip and Andrew! Their eyes of faith just did not see Jesus, the Bread of Life, “God’s Food” in the flesh, standing there in front of them. Just like Adam and Eve in the Garden, they thought that they had only themselves to trust.

And we, you and I, are just like them. Sometimes we worry about our food. Will we have enough, or will we run out? Will it taste good? Will it be prepared just right? Other times our worries turn us to our food. My, how that glass of wine or that box of chocolates or that slice of pizza makes all of the day’s worries fade away! Another problem is how we use our food. Instead of simply eating to live, we turn it on its head: we think we must live to eat. That’s when you eat just because the food is there, or you “hear it calling your name” as you pass by the cupboard or the refrigerator. Oh, the power that food has over us! Food itself is not the problem; letting it and our appetite control us, though, is.

Our chief problem is that we do not look to Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, for our food. No, we look to ourselves and to Schnucks or Dierbergs or Shop N’ Save. We expect our paycheck to be there so that we can go grocery shopping. We can’t imagine not having a grocery store or a fast food place nearby. Since the disease of death infects us, we sin by looking to ourselves as the source of our daily bread. The power of food makes us think, as Adam and Eve did, that we can be “like God” by trusting ourselves, by indulging our own appetites.

When Jesus feeds the great multitude, He shows us the better way, the way He created us to live. Instead of pining for food, we may rely on our God and Savior. As Psalm 145 teaches us to pray, “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.”  God certainly gave the Israelites their food at the proper time. Every day He sent manna from heaven, and every day just enough for that day. Except on Fridays. Then He would give enough for that day and the Sabbath Day. But it was a miracle of God’s food. A miracle that God provided it, a miracle that through that food, God sustained His people in their journey through the wilderness.

Our Lord Jesus performed just such a miracle of food for the multitude gathered on the mountain. It’s quite a miracle to feed over 5,000 people from a mere five loaves of bread and two fish. But remember the other part of the miracle. Through that physical food He sustained them for their journey with Him or their trip home. Yes, our Lord uses food, ordinary food, to show us that He is the Lord of life, that He is the antidote to our disease of death. And that’s true all the time, not just when you’re starving on a mountainside with Jesus. As Luther put it, “What he did here he demonstrates year in, year out, and day for day, with the trees, fields, meadows, bodies of water, and all creatures, so that apples, pears, wheat, barley, grass, fish, and all other things necessary to sustain life are produced. He does it that we might believe that he will sustain us” (Church Postils, I:348).

And let’s not forget the other miracle of God’s food before us today. We’d be remiss if we didn’t also think of the Lord feeding us in His holy Supper. After all, Jesus Himself connects His physical feeding of the crowd with the spiritual feeding He gives in His Body and Blood. Some may argue that this chapter, John 6, has nothing to do with the Eucharist. But listen carefully to the words of Jesus, listen to this miracle of food that Jesus gives us: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” (Jn. 6:51). Not only does ordinary, everyday food sustain our physical life, but the food of Christ’s very Body and Blood, under the bread and wine, sustains our eternal life. Yes, the very Body pierced and broken on the Cross for you, the very Blood poured out from His sacred veins and side for you—they cure you of your disease of death. They heal you of your sins of worrying about food and over-indulging in it.

So, what we turn upside down and inside out, Jesus comes to set right. He says, “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood—eating and drinking in faith, of course—has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” And when we think that we just cannot fast, we just cannot do without our physical foods, Jesus gives us Himself, the Bread of Life, God’s food. He provides the food we need and when we need it, and with it He gives us His life. Amen.

Homily for Trinity 2

"Feasting on Jesus"
Luke 14:15-24

Listen here.

Today we join our Lord Jesus as He dines at the house of a Pharisee. It’s a Sabbath Day, so we also think of remembering the Sabbath Day and gladly hearing and learning God’s Word. Jesus is trying to teach us some table manners in God’s kingdom. When God invites us to His great banquet, He wants us to feast on what He says.

One man tries to impress Jesus and says, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God.” Jesus then answers with a story. A man puts on a great banquet and invites many people. But the invited guests refuse the invitation. It seems they’re just too busy to make it to this feast. So the master invites other guests, people you would never expect to see at a grand social event. And even some of them must be compelled to come to the feast. Even though one man at the banquet table was trying to butter Jesus up, he did catch on. Jesus is talking about the Kingdom of God. “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God.”

As Christians, we are citizens of two kingdoms: the kingdom of the earth and the kingdom of heaven. In the kingdom of the earth people eat and drink, sleep and work, rest and play. Here they take care of all their physical and social needs. Here people are very glad to take part in picnics and barbecues, especially on days such as Memorial Day, Father’s Day, or Fourth of July. Sometimes they don’t even need to be invited in order to receive some food. In the kingdom of heaven the food and life are very different. Here the Lord of the Universe, the Creator of heaven and earth, throws a lavish, sumptuous meal. Here the food is far richer, far more nourishing than in the earthly kingdom. But here the invited guests are reluctant to come. It’s as if they’d rather have watery chicken noodle soup than eat the filet mignon that God carefully prepares and freely gives.

So, the Lord Jesus talks about God’s rich banquet table of heavenly food. God the Father prepares a great, rich, sumptuous banquet. He invites us poor beggars on earth to eat and drink with Him at His heavenly supper table. So the question is: How will we earth-bound beggars respond to His gracious invitation? Will we be rude and spurn His invitation? Or will we gladly feast on His divine delicacies?

Our Lord Jesus Christ is the true, spiritual banquet. Our heavenly Father is the rich man and host. He has prepared the banquet. He sent His Son to be born of the Virgin Mary, to live a perfect life, to suffer a horrible death—thus to be slaughtered and prepared by the divine Chef. And just as a good host puts juicy steaks on the barbecue grill, so did the heavenly Father. He allowed His own Son to be roasted on the cross and offered up in fiery, burning love. Yes, Jesus is our Paschal Lamb sacrificed for the sin of the whole world.

But a good host never leaves the filet mignon on the grill permanently. No, when the meat is done, he removes it from the fire and serves it up for his guests to eat and enjoy. It’s in the eating that people are refreshed, nourished, and strengthened. In the same way, our heavenly Father removed Jesus from the fiery grill of the cross, laid Him in the tomb, and raised Him from the dead. Now we and the whole world can feast on this food. Christ Jesus is the world’s true, nourishing Food of Life.

So, wherever Christians gather together, you have God’s banquet table. The preaching of the Gospel is the dish. The servers are the pastors. Jesus is the food. Through the pastor’s mouth the food is laid on the table and served. When the Gospel is preached, this food is served and offered for you. And everyone gets to feast—rich and poor, old and young, learned and unlearned. There are three essential ingredients to God’s feast: first, the dish, that is, the Word of God; second, the waiter, that is, the pastor’s mouth; and third, the guests, those who believe the message of Christ with the heart. When these three things come together, our heart and soul start to eat and say, “Here is a juicy steak. Here Christ is proclaimed. Here the food is the roasted Christ. I get to feast on Jesus. I get to find my strength and joy and comfort in Christ alone.” Whoever believes this with his heart eats and drinks Jesus.

How does this food taste? Well, a good barbecued steak has a delicious flavor. It refreshes body and soul, it satisfies the appetite, and it strengthens the body. In the same way, when you hear and believe the Gospel, you feast on Jesus. This rich, tender filet of Christ nourishes and strengthens your soul. It has the delicious taste of forgiveness of sins, eternal life, and heavenly bliss. This food gives life—life now, life for all eternity, life that only Jesus can give.

Jesus tells us about this food in John 6: “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. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.” (vv. 53-55) So whoever believes with heart and mind that Jesus Christ has given His body and shed His blood for him or her need not fear death.

So in Jesus you have pure joy, everlasting joy. He is no longer sorrowful or fainthearted. He no longer sweats great drops of blood as He did in Gethsemane. But in Him there is true joy and gladness. And this same Jesus, who is comfort and joy in the flesh, has become your food, served up in the Gospel to be eaten by faith. So when you are forsaken, cast down, oppressed, and assaulted for being Christians, you may run to Jesus. There you revive and strengthen yourselves. Since Jesus, your food, is filled with gladness, joy, and life, you too are filled with gladness, joy, and life. What a glorious banquet it is! And all you have to do is come to the banquet table of Jesus’ pulpit and altar and partake of Christ.

But here is where our Lord laments. He laments over the world’s callousness and indifference. He laments that people—even in His Church—ignore and despise this great, delicious banquet. He laments that so many—even self-proclaimed Christians—have no desire for the preaching of this Gospel, this feast of the roasted Christ. They refuse to come to God’s banquet table. And they excuse themselves with pretty flimsy excuses—real estate to see, animals to take care of or vehicles to test drive, or even family affairs.

Now these things are not evil in themselves. After all, God gives the land, the animals, the vehicles, and especially spouses and children. But Jesus laments when people refuse His banquet of forgiveness and life because they are so attached to enjoying the land, or to using the machines and the technology for work or play, or to arranging so many family activities.

We must learn to put things in proper perspective. We must learn the differences between coming to the banquet of Christ’s kingdom, on the one hand, and enjoying the land, the machines and toys, and the family, on the other. God gives the good things of land, material things, and family to enjoy. He also gives us spouses to avoid immorality. He gives us all family members to love and serve and forgive. But Jesus laments when we put these good gifts from Him over and above coming to His kingdom banquet.

Remember the Lord’s Prayer. First we pray for God’s name to be hallowed, for His kingdom to come, and for His will to be done. Only after these things do we then pray for daily bread—the things of physical and social life. When we put the things of physical and social life before the banquet of the roasted Christ, then our Lord laments. Then we deserve the wrath of God. But as Jesus says in Matthew 6(:33), “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” So our first priority in all of life is to hear and learn the Gospel—to feast on Jesus. Only with that nourishment can we truly enjoy the nourishment for  stomach and social life.

You see, our loving and giving heavenly Father puts on this rich feast by giving His Son, and He truly wants us earthly guests to fill His banquet all. So, let’s not pass up this banquet. Let’s invite and bring our family members, our friends, our fellow Christians, and our neighbors to this banquet. After all, in this banquet Jesus says, “You have My righteousness, My life, My comfort, and My peace.” Amen.

Homily for Easter Vigil

"How to Say 'CHRISTIAN'"

Surely, you remember the Hobbits from Lord of the Rings—Frodo, Sam-Wise, Merry, and Pippin. Frodo and Sam-Wise had gone off to return “the Ring” to Mt. Doom—save the world or some such thing. Merry and Pippin, though, had been captured by the Uruhkai. Then they escaped and were wandering through Fangorn Forest. That’s where they met the “Ents”—the tree creatures that  walk and talk. The first “Ent” they met was Treebeard—an wise, old Ent. At first Treebeard wasn’t sure he had ever heard of little creatures called Hobbits. Treebeard went through his whole list of creatures—elves, dwarfs, ents, and humans; beavers, bears, hounds, and eagles; swans and serpents. Nope, no Hobbits. But he was pleased to meet Merry and Pippin.

So, Merry quickly introduces himself by name. And Treebeard says, “Hoom, hmm! Come now! Not so hasty.” He wants to ponder why they call themselves “hobbits.” Pippin quickly introduces himself by name. And Treebeard responds, “Hm, but you are hasty folk, I see.” Then Treebeard slowly declares, “I am not going to tell you my name, not yet at any rate.” Why not? He says, “For one thing it would take a very long while: my name is growing all the time, and I’ve lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story.” In Treebeard’s story-language, Entish, things take a long time to say. Then Treebeard says, “It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time to say anything in it, because we do not say anything in it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to.”

Tonight we are being good little Ents! What does all of this have to do with Jesus, Easter, resurrection, and new life? Don’t get hasty now; just wait. It’s truly amazing how hasty we get in our world of 24/7 news, and Facebook status updates throughout the day, and email correspondence where we feel insulted if we don’t get a response in under three minutes. Yes, we’re suffering from a plague of hastiness. Yes, the symptoms of that plague are not saying much that’s worthwhile and not hearing much that’s worthwhile. Certainly, our hasty speaking, our hasty listening, and even our hasty living, all tend to crowd out our God who loves us for the long-term of eternity.

According to Treebeard, anything worth saying is worth taking some time to say it. Think about this evening. We actually gather here with the express purpose of taking longer than normal to worship ... waiting and watching in vigil … of hearing lots of God’s Word … of remembering our Baptism … of confirming two young men … of praying … and of receiving His gifts. We began with preparing and lighting the Paschal candle. Yes, Jesus Christ is the light of the world. Oops. I’m getting too hasty here. We processed in and that light of life spread through the congregation. One candle after another, Jesus the resurrected light spread for each person here. Just think how gloriously long it would take to spread through the country or around the world.

Then we heard the Word of God. If there’s anything worth saying and listening to, here it is. Story after story of how God loves us to redeem us, of how God steps into our story to rescue us, rescue us from sin … and from death … and from the devil. First, came Creation. Yes, He loved us so much He wanted to give us His whole perfect world. Then came the Flood. Yes, our rebellion against Him is judged. And yet He delivers us through the water, safe and secure in the ark—the ark of His holy Church, that is. I hope I’m not going too hastily here! Then came the Exodus. Our gracious God delivers us from our slavery to sin, just has He delivered His ancient people from slavery in Egypt. And finally Daniel and his friends. Notice we did not speed through that story! Daniel and his friends would not bow down to the human king, regardless of his unjust legislation and mandate, regardless of how the governing authorities sought to curtail their religious freedom. And the consequences for their civil disobedience? A fiery furnace. But there was a Helper in the midst of that blazing oven—the Son of God Himself. Yes, we’ve taken a long time to rehearse these stories. If there’s anything worth saying, it’s worth taking time to say it. You see, these are our stories. They teach us how to say, “CHRISTIAN.”

And this evening we’ve had the privilege of remembering our Baptism and new life with God in Jesus' death and resurrection. And, yes, it happened far more hastily than the story deserves. You see, we get to spend our whole lifetimes learning this new life in Jesus, life that lasts into eternity. Yes, for years to come, we get to learn how to say “CHRISTIAN” … and how to live as “CHRISTIAN” … and how to serve as “CHRISTIAN” … and how to love as “CHRISTIAN.” It’s what we all get to do when we are baptized.

After that story we witnessed the story of two young men confessing the one, true faith and being confirmed in that faith. If there’s anything worthy saying—especially in those confirmation vows—it’s worthy saying slowly, over a long period of time, even over the long period of your lifetimes. Yes, you did confess faith in the true God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Yes, you did promise to remain true to Him for the rest of your lives. Yes, you did promise to live the rest of your lives in His Church—hearing God’s Word, receiving the Lord’s Body and Blood faithfully and regularly. It’s how you say, “CHRISTIAN.” You live it. You don’t make a promise, and then hastily rush off to other pursuits. No, you live the story. You live life within God’s family, the Church. We all do. How do you say “CHRISTIAN”? By coming to Jesus’ house, by hearing and learning His words, by eating and drinking His Body and Blood—week in and week out, month in and month out, year in and year out. If there’s anything worth saying—and living—it’s worth taking time to say it and live it. So, Blake and Evan, welcome to the family.

What does all of this have to do with Jesus, Easter, resurrection, and new life? Don’t be so hasty. It’s what we’ve been hearing all evening. New life from God and His rescue of sinners. New life in Jesus Christ, crucified and now risen. New life in Baptism. New life in practice, lived out in His family, the Church. New life that is worth taking time—our whole lifetime—to say, to live, to shout, to sing.

When we shout out and sing out that “Christ is risen,” we mean all of this. When we shout out and sing out that “He is risen indeed,” we mean His story is our story, His life is our life. When we shout out and sing out, “Alleluia!”, we shout out and sing out a word that is worth saying over and over and for a long time to come. Praise the Lord that He has sent His Son! Praise the Lord that He is risen from the dead! Praise the Lord that He has raised us to live with Him! Praise the Lord that He teaches us how to say, “CHRISTIAN”! Praise our risen Savior that He has given us something to say, and a whole lifetime to say it!

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Homily for Holy Thursday

"Life in the Blood"
Exodus 12:1-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-32; John 13:1-15, 34-35

There is a crimson, scarlet thread woven through all of Scripture. God told Moses, “For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life” (Lev. 17:11). The writer to the Hebrews tells all of us: “Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Heb. 9:22). In the shed blood of Jesus we have forgiveness. There’s life in that blood.

When a human being leaves a trail of blood, it usually leads back to him and pronounces him guilty of causing death. But when God Himself leaves a trail of blood through His Scriptures, it leads back to Him and proclaims Him our Giver of life.

Go back to the Garden of Eden. When Lent began, we remembered Adam and Eve and the fall into sin. Adam and Eve seek independence from God, but receive death instead. Remember: “you are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Gen. 3:19). But right on the heels of that pronouncement of death, God promises life. He will send a Savior who will crush the serpent’s head. Not only that, but God Himself sheds blood to proclaim His gift of life: “The LORD God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skins and clothed them” (Gen. 3:21). The first Gospel promise, then the first shedding of blood. Life in the blood.

Fast forward to about 1450 B.C. God’s chosen people are oppressed slaves in Egypt. God steps in to rescue and liberate them from their cruel bondage. God institutes a meal to go with the rescue. Kill a lamb. Roast it and eat it, along with the unleavened bread, the bitter herbs and the fruit puree. Take the blood of the lamb and paint it on the door frames. When God goes through the land to kill the first-born of all Egypt, He will pass over the houses painted with blood. There’s life and deliverance for those covered with the blood.

Nine months after the children of Israel come out of Egypt, God makes a covenant with His people. God chooses His people, and He promises to be their God. They respond by promising to be faithful to Him alone. Moses presides at the Covenant Liturgy. He builds an altar. He sets up pillars representing the people. He takes blood from the offerings. He pours half of it on the altar—that’s the SACRIFICE. He pours the other half on the people—that’s the COVERING. Then Moses and other elders of Israel go up onto Mt. Sinai. They actually see the God of Israel, and He is gracious to let them remain in His presence. “They beheld God, and ate and drank” (Ex. 24:11). There really is life—and love—in that blood.

All of that Old Testament blood sets us up for the New Testament blood. Now it’s the Feast of the Passover. Jesus knows that His “hour” has come; it’s time for Him to complete His mission and return to His Father. He shows His deep love for His disciples by washing their feet. He also loves them—and us—by fulfilling and transforming the Passover meal. He says, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (Lk. 22:15). This would be the last Passover meal of the old testament; it would also be the first Passover meal of the new testament. That first blood in the Garden, that first Passover in Egypt, that first Covenant at Mt. Sinai—they all point us to Jesus. Now Jesus will be the ultimate, once-for-all sacrifice. Now Jesus will shed the final blood. Now Jesus Himself will be the highest and best Passover Lamb. Now Jesus gives the New Covenant. The life is in His blood.

1450 years before Jesus, the Israelites slew the lambs. Those covered with the lambs’ blood would be rescued. Those who ate the lamb would be sustained and nourished for their journey out of slavery. In A.D. 30, Jesus reveals Himself to be “the Lamb of  God who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn. 1:29). You who are covered with the blood of Jesus are rescued from your oppressive slavery in sin and death. You who eat Jesus, the Lamb roasted on the cross, are sustained and nourished for your journey through the wilderness of this world. Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (Jn. 15:13). St. John proclaims God’s life and love in the blood this way: “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the [atoning sacrifice] for our sins” (1 Jn. 4:10).

So Jesus gives bread and says, “Take, eat; this is My Body which is given for you.” Then Jesus gives a common cup of wine and says, “Drink of it all of you; this cup is the new testament in My blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” Now this is NOT the language of cardboard cut-out representations. Nor is it the language of squishy symbolism. No, this is language of a last will and testament. And, as we know, a last will and testament goes into effect after the person who makes it has died. And once a last will and testament has been put into effect, cannot be changed. Its provisions continue.

Jesus gives us His last will and testament of forgiveness and life in His blood. When He dies it goes into effect. After He dies, the provisions of His will—His forgiveness, His life, and His salvation—continue. In the Old Testament, God promised life and forgiveness in the shed blood of animals. In the New Testament, Jesus wins life and forgiveness by shedding His own blood in death. In the Old Testament, God’s people looked ahead to the final sacrifice that would give perfect forgiveness for all time. In the New Testament, Jesus’ Church receives all the benefits of His sacrifice. Here is Jesus’ last will and testament for you: “Find your forgiveness and your life in My shed blood; focus your life and faith on the common cup of My blood. When you are covered in this blood, you have life.”

We live in a time when people are looking for some kind of spirituality. Many think “spiritual” means the opposite of “material.” Eastern religions such as Hinduism view the “spiritual world” as pure, while the “material world” is evil. We also see this Gnostic heresy alive and well in our Western culture. However, in God’s view—and according to the Bible, the spiritual world and the material world are linked and joined together—like body and soul in a person, or like flame and heat in a bonfire. God actually gives spiritual life through material things. He gives forgiveness and strengthens faith by using bread and wine, body and blood. Every time you eat Christ’s Body and drink Christ’s Blood, you receive rich, eternal, spiritual benefits—God’s rescue from sin; Jesus’ life to sustain yours.

“The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” (1 Cor. 10:16). When you eat Christ’s Body and drink His Blood, you share in life with Christ. You also share in life with each other. Yes, we are in the Body of Christ. Together we are the Body of Christ. We need each other. “For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself” (Rom. 14:7). This is the precious proclamation of the common cup. We, you and I, are united and unified in faith and life in Christ. This also explains why, sometimes, we must have someone wait before they commune with us. If a person or a church body does not agree in the teachings of Jesus, we love them enough to say, “Let’s not commune until we share a common faith, a common public confession, in Christ’s forgiveness, life and salvation. Thus we show love for Christ and for one another by respecting His blood. After all, there’s life and love in His blood.

Now that you are cleansed and made whole by Christ’s blood—now that you receive life by His love—you get to live in thanksgiving. How so? “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord” (Ps. 116:12-13). The best thing you can do to thank Jesus for His agonizing death and His eternal love is partake of His Body and Blood—keep His last will and testament. What better way to proclaim Christ and His loving life than to gather in His house for His Supper on His day?

The writer to the Hebrews says, “Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Heb. 9:22). And Jesus says, “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn. 6:54). Amen.

Homily for Trinity 2

"The Master's Invitation"
Luke 14:15-24

Listen here.

The master of the feast made doubly sure that the guests all received their “invites.” He issued two “invites” to each one. The first “invite” simply said, “You’re invited!” The second “invite” came on the day of the great supper itself. The master sent a special messenger to announce that the dinner is now served: “Come, for everything is now ready.”

All of this teaches us the heart of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. “Come!” The Gospel is not a command; it’s an offer. It’s not a demand; it’s a gift. It’s not a royal fiat; it’s an invitation. It’s the Master’s invitation to share in the unbelievable joy of the Kingdom of God.

“Come!” God is expecting you. He wants you to join in His feast. He is ready for the poor, the maimed, the blind, and the lame. He is ready for those who spend their lives in the highways and byways of life. He invites everyone: “Come, for everything is now ready.”

Just as a shepherd seeks for his lost sheep; just as a woman gets down on her hands and knees to look for her lost coin; and, yes, just as a father eagerly waits for his lost son to return home and looks down the road for him—in the same way God is always seeking, calling, inviting us back into loving, joyous relationship with Him.

God cries out: “Come, for everything is now ready.” Come, you who seek meaning for life. Come, you who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Come, you who falter under the burden and shame of your original sin, your actual sins, and even death itself. Come, you who are anxious and fearful. Come, you who mourn.

“Come you all; enter into the joy of your Lord. The table is richly loaded: enjoy its royal banquet.  The calf is a fatted one; let no one go away hungry. All of you enjoy the banquet of faith; all of you receive the riches of his goodness. Let none grieve over their poverty, for the universal kingdom has been revealed; let none weep over their sins, for pardon has shone forth from the grave; let none fear death, for the death of the Savior has set us free.”  (John Chrysostom - Easter homily)

You see, Christianity is not first and foremost a religion that says, “Do this and don’t do that.” Yes, we do receive God’s Law, especially in His Ten Commandments. And, yes, based on those Ten Commandments, we know that we sin in thought, word and deed. But that’s not what makes Christianity Christianity.

Instead, Christianity is first and foremost a faith that says, “Come!” The great “magnetism” of Jesus Christ comes not in His “Thou shalts” and “Thou shalt nots,” but in His invitation: “Come to Me.” Come, be filled with the Holy Spirit. Come, be filled with the life and energy of God’s presence. And when we do come to Him, we will surely do certain things and live a certain way—not merely because we “should” do those things or "should" live that way, but because we delight in living with our loving Father and Savior. We delight in living and doing as the expression of our love for the One who laid down His life for us. We delight in living and doing with the One—Jesus—who gave His life on a cross to give us life.

In the 4th century, Pastor John Chrysostom commented on the Master’s invitation, “Come to Me all you who labor.” He said these precious words: “His invitation is one of kindness, His goodness is beyond description. ‘Come to me, all’ – not only rulers but also their subjects; not only the rich, but also the poor; not only the free, but also the slaves; not only men, but also women; not only the youth, but also the old; not only those of sound body, but also the maimed. All of you, He says, come!  For such are the Master’s gifts. He knows no distinction of slave and free, nor of rich and poor, but all such inequality is cast aside.  ‘Come,’ He says, ‘all you who labor and are burdened!’ And see whom He calls! Those who have spent their strength in breaking the law, those who are burdened with their sins, those who can no longer lift up their heads, those who are filled with shame, those who can no longer speak out. Why does He call them? Not to demand an accounting, nor to hold court. But why? To relieve them of their pain, to take away their heavy burdens.”

Now when Jesus says, “Come!” He does not stand on the top rung of a long, high ladder in heaven to signal us to start climbing. After all, He Himself has climbed down that ladder to stand alongside us. He has come to us. “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.” “She gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths and laid Him in a manger.” He came and was born in a stable. He came and died on the cross. He came and rose victorious from the grave. He came to prepare the banquet of life and salvation for us. And now – today – Jesus sends His servants to extend His invitation: “Come, for everything is now ready.” There is nothing that you can or need to add to this feast. He has prepared it all. “It is finished!” He cried from the cross. He has prepared the feast of salvation for you. The only thing He asks of you is that you let Him serve it to you, and that you enjoy and delight in it.

But sadly and tragically, the invitation is not always accepted. This gracious invitation is too often rejected. “I have bought a field…. Please have me excused…. I have bought five yoke of oxen…. Please have me excused…. I have married a wife…. I cannot come.” And so flew the excuses. It was and is the response of so many of His own people. “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive Him.” Is this not the same response today? Tragically, and sadly, we end up accepting the wrong invitations in life. We miss the banquet, the abundant life of Christ, and we settle for the lesser lunches and the fleeting feasts. And Jesus still laments, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem… How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not!”

“Come, for everything is now ready.” “But I am not worthy to come,” you might object. “My clothes are not suitable. I wouldn’t know how to act in the Master’s palace. Besides, I’m just too busy and have too many other things to do.”

None of this makes any difference. The invitation goes out to all: to those who are on the back streets, to those who live in dirty, little houses, as well as to those who live in fine homes. Come! The good news is that you don’t have to be perfect to come. Come as you are—come with all of your sins and sorrows and shame; come with all of your weaknesses and failures; come with all of your problems and anxieties. Come to the only One who can forgive you and heal you. Come to the One who on His cross opened wide His arms to welcome you. “Come, for everything is now ready.”

And coming to Jesus is not a one time thing. Let no one say: “Oh, I did that years ago.” Coming to Jesus is a way of life. It begins with Baptism. It involves living out our Baptism in daily repentance and sorrow for sin, and in turning from that sin to God. We come to Him and find Him right where He has promised to be for us. We come to Him in the Divine Service. “For where two or three are gathered in My name, there am I among them.” We come to Him in reading our Bibles. As Jesus says, “If anyone loves Me, he will keep my word, and My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” We come to Him in regular and faithful Communion. As Jesus says, “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him.” Yes, He who came down from heaven to meet us on our level, and to die in our place on a cross, still comes to meet us on our level.

No, He does not stand at the top of the ladder and call us to climb home. Instead, He stands at the bottom, lifts us up on His strong shoulders, and carries us up the ladder Himself. When we lay aside the excuses and dare to accept the invitation, then we truly know the wonder of the glorious banquet hall. Then we know the goodness of the food of life. Then we know the joy of amazing fellowship with God Himself. Yes, dare to accept it daily—today, tomorrow, the next day and all the days of your life. Live in the promise that our Lord will one day speak the greatest invitation of all: “Come, you who are blessed by My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” Amen.

Homily for Holy Thursday

Washed and Fed to Love
John 13:1-15, 34-35

A new commandment I give to you, Jesus said, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. (Jn. 13:34). That’s were we get one name for today—“Maundy Thursday”—from mandatum, meaning “command.” We also call it “Holy Thursday” because this is Thursday of “Holy Week.” Whatever the name, the theme is the same: Love.

But how was Jesus’ bickering band of disciples supposed to love each other? How are we? This group of men who argued over the seats of honor in Jesus’ kingdom—how were they supposed to love one another? How are we? Didn’t the Law already command us to love our neighbor as ourselves? So what’s new about this “new commandment”?

Jesus ties His mandate to love one another with the Supper He gives us. Jesus’ words to love one another also go hand in hand with His servant act of washing His disciples’ feet. And it all happened in the Upper Room: foot washing, Lord’s Supper, and Jesus’ new command. It all happened on the night when He was betrayed into death. So it goes for our love for one another. As Jesus’ holy people, we can only love one another as we are connected to Jesus—to His Body and Blood, by His Cross and in His Supper.

John’s Gospel doesn’t give us the Institution of the Lord’s Supper. For that we look to Matthew, Mark, Luke and St. Paul. But St. John is still catechizing us. The Lord’s Supper is woven into the background. Since we know and have the Lord’s Supper, St. John is expanding our horizons on what it means to cling to Jesus’ love and actually to love one another.

The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus turns Old Testament washing water into New Testament wine at the wedding of Cana. The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus feeds the five thousand and proclaims Himself the very Bread of life. “For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink,” He said. “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood abides in me, and I in him.” (Jn. 6:55-56) The Lord’s Supper is in the background of the whole sermon Jesus preaches in the Upper Room on this night of His betrayal. “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” (Jn. 15:5)

Baptism and Lord’s Supper go hand in hand in John. They are just as close as the foot washing and the Supper in the Upper Room the night before He was crucified. They are bound together just as the water and the blood that flowed from Jesus’ pierced side at His crucifixion.

Jesus knew what lay ahead of Him that night. He knew one of His own disciples would betray Him. He knew that all things were given to Him by His Father, that He had come from God, that He was going to God. He knew that the time of His Passover was near—the time when His blood would paint the wood of the cross so that death might pass over.

So, knowing all this, Jesus rose from the table, laid aside His outer garments, tied a towel around His waist and poured a basin full of water. He knelt down. He began to wash His disciples' feet. Then He dried them with the towel He was wearing. Jesus did what no Hebrew slave was ever asked to do—wash feet.

Now foot washing was a crucial part of social etiquette in Jesus’ culture. It was something like our moms saying, “Don’t forget to wash your hands before supper.” They did that, but they also washed their feet. Remember, Jesus and His disciples reclined on pillows at a low table, instead of sitting in chairs as we do. That put your neighbor’s feet very close to your face, and vice versa. Thus, foot washing!

And yet foot washing was one of the lowest and most menial tasks. Only the lowest rank of slave would do it. But here in the Upper Room, the Lord of heaven and earth, the Incarnate Word through whom all things where made, sets aside His own garments and wears the lowly towel of the humblest slave. What extreme humility! The One called Teacher and Lord washes the feet of His disciples!

But Peter objected. “You shall never wash my feet!” Peter is too proud to have Jesus bend down and wash his feet. That same sort of pride keeps us from Baptism, Absolution, Lord’s Supper, and the Gospel preached. It also keeps us from bending down to wash the feet of brothers and sisters in our midst. Surely Jesus is more glorious than a bath, a spoken word of forgiveness, and a bit of bread and wine! Surely washing feet is not a proper use of our great spiritual gifts! Isn’t the real Jesus more glorious, more “spiritual,” than some crucified foot-washer? But that’s not faith; that’s unbelief. “If I do not wash you,” Jesus says, “you have no share with Me.”

So we too must be washed by Jesus, bathed as little children, baptized into His death and resurrection. We cannot wash ourselves. We wouldn’t even if we could. Like little children who play in the mud, we rather enjoy the filth of our sin. We’ve grown accustomed to it. But we cannot come to the table with dirty feet. So Jesus bends down to us in His humbled, crucified humanity to wash us. He reaches down to the dirtiest and most deeply soiled places in our lives, down to the soles of our feet, where we touch the earth from which were made, the dirt to which we return in death. He reaches down to the place where the dirt of our earthly life is ground in and stubborn. And washed by Jesus, baptized into His death, we are cleansed from head to toe.

Jesus’ washing drowns our stubborn pride—the ego of our old Adam. It frees us from the bondage of our pride to serve others in the humility of Christ. “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” Jesus shows us the posture of the disciple before the world: stooped down as a servant with towel and basin, washing filthy feet. To be a disciple of the Lord Jesus means having your feet washed by Jesus so that you may, in turn, wash the feet of others. It means being loved by a humbled and crucified Christ so that you may be humbled and crucified to love one another, in Him.

And washed by Jesus, you are clean, ready for Supper. You can recline and relax at His table. You can let your defenses down. At His Table, Jesus is host and servant and main course, all at the same time. He gives His precious Body to eat and His Passover Blood to drink. And as fruitful branches are to the vine, so you are to Jesus at His Table. He is the true Vine; you are the branches. You are grafted into Jesus through faith; you receive His life into you. Apart from Him you can do nothing. “Take eat. Drink of it all of you.” His life flows from the cross to the chalice and into your mouths. And His life in you bears fruit. His love for you overflows to your neighbor.

It’s in this context that Jesus gives His “new mandate.” He says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” What’s “new” with this commandment? It’s not the love. “Love your neighbor as yourself” is the old commandment from Moses. What’s new is Jesus’ washing and feeding—His Baptism and His Supper of Body and Blood. These are Jesus’ “mandates” for you. This is how you learn to love one another.

Jesus’ new mandate to His disciples is to receive His love in all the ways He wants to give it. Jesus’ new mandate means being loved by Him so that His love flows through you to one another. His love is poured out for you in His death and poured into you in His Baptism and His Supper. His love bears fruit as it has its way with you. It leads you to bend down, wash each other’s feet, serve each other, and live for each other’s benefit.

As we learn to be filled with Jesus’ self-giving love, His love flows through us to each other. As we sang earlier:

“Jesus gave to His disciples
A commandment that was new:
‘Show My love to one another,
Do as I have done for you;
All the world will know you love Me
As you love each other too.” (LSB, 446:5)

Amen.