Showing posts with label Jesus Christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus Christ. Show all posts

30 January 2022

Homily for Epiphany 4 - 2022

Authority to Calm and Restore 

Matthew 8:23-27

 

When Jesus reveals Himself to be the Son of God in human flesh, He also reveals our frailty and our fears.  It’s something like opening the curtains or blinds on the window to let in the bright sunshine. Not only does it brighten up the room; it also reveals all that dust on the furniture. Remember how we prayed in today’s collect. God knows “we live in the midst of so many dangers.” We admitted that “in our frailty we cannot stand upright.” So we pleaded with our Epiphany Lord to “grant strength and protection.” Only with His strength and protection can we find “support in all our dangers.” Only He can “carry us through all temptations.”

Matthew, chapter 8, introduces us to the authority of Jesus and how people react to that authority. Last week, we heard how He had the authority and will to cleanse the leper. That was followed by healing the centurion’s servant simply by speaking His powerful word (Mt. 8:1-13). Then He authoritatively healed Peter’s mother-in-law, helped many who were oppressed by demons, and healed other illnesses. He fulfilled the prophecy that said, “He took our illnesses and bore our diseases” (Mt. 8:17; Is. 53:4).

Then came a scribe. He wanted to follow Jesus wherever He would go. Jesus had to warn him: unlike foxes and birds of the air, “the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head” (Mt. 8:20). The scribe could not conceive that Jesus was not about self-promotion or His own comfort. Nor could the scribe comprehend that following Jesus means surrendering all guarantees of a comfortable, secure existence in this fallen world. He missed it on the purpose of Jesus’ authority. That authority will lead Jesus to sacrifice Himself upon a cross. Those who follow Him may expect the same cross-shaped life of self-sacrifice.

Then came another of Jesus’ disciples. “First, let me bury my father,” he instructed Jesus. Sounds reasonable. But who knows how long until that would happen? This guy was putting family obligations above allegiance to Jesus. He missed it on the priority of Jesus’ authority. So Jesus gave a stern command: “Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead” (Mt. 8:22). Translation: Jesus calls those who follow Him to make their allegiance to Him the first and top priority. “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” (Mt. 10:37), He would also say.

Now we come to today’s Gospel. It answers the question: what is the extent of Jesus’ authority? Jesus reveals He has authority even over storm and sea—in fact, over all creation. He also reveals the frailty and fear of His followers, yes, including you and me.

They’re all in the boat. A great storm arose. Great waves swamping the boat. Literally, the boat was hidden or covered by the waves. How did the disciples react? Remember, some of them were fishermen on this very lake called the Sea of Galilee. You’d think they would know the waters, the weather patterns, and how to handle the waves. Their reaction this time? “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” In Mark’s account of the same event, the disciples cry out, “Teacher, [don’t you] care that we are perishing?” (Mk. 4:38).

It’s what happens when you’re not so sure about the extent of Jesus’ authority. You conclude Jesus doesn’t care. You fear He’s not always there for you. You wonder if you will even survive. It could be a wind storm on a lake or a snow storm on land. It could be a personal diagnosis of illness or a global pandemic of a disease that still, after two years, has a survival rate of 99 percent. It could be the stresses of family conflict or the confusing, ever-changing policies and practices at work. It could be the constant drumbeat of fear by the news media or the arrogant antics of power-hungry magistrates. When your fear and frailty come out of the closet of your heart and mind, you too echo those disciples in the boat. “Lord, we’re dying here! Don’t you care? Do something! Save us!”

Where has Jesus been all this time during the boat-tossing storm? Sleeping. As though He had not a care in this blustery, tempestuous world. Calm in the midst of chaos. Actually, let’s thank Him for this revelation. This One truly is human. He got tired and needed rest, just as He got hungry and thirsty and needed food and drink. This is also a wonderful contrast. Winds blowing, waves crashing, boat floundering, sailors frantically flailing about. Yet Jesus sleeps with great calm. Even in sleep, Jesus is still in control. Soon enough, He would reveal His divine, almighty power and authority over winds and waves.

First, though, let’s ponder what He said after His fearful followers woke Him from His peaceful slumber. “He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?’” His comment about “little faith” is not so much a measurement of their faith itself. It’s more of a “divine insult,” if you will—appropriate and accurate in revealing their frailty. He called them “little-faiths.”

What led them to being “little-faiths”? They were afraid. No doubt, we can relate. This is a curious term in the Greek. It’s not the usual term, phobos—the common Greek term for “fear,” which we use for our various “phobias.” When you look up this term in the dictionary, you get a different, perhaps deeper, slant with some related words. “Why are you cowardly, craven, vile, worthless, miserable, wretched, or unhappy?” It’s what fear will do to you—make you cowardly and miserable, wretched and unhappy.

After rebuking His cowardly Christ-followers, Jesus “rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.” The creation responded to its Creator. No, this Man is not the Father, nor the Holy Spirit. But He is God, nevertheless. “All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made” (Jn. 1:3). Since He made it, He can and does control it…and calm it. He rules over it and preserves it, even in its fallen, frequently dangerous, chaotic state.

The creation itself groans because it is subject to futility. Who subjected it? Adam in his original sin. Because of Adam’s sin, all of creation was also subjected to bondage of decay, danger, and death. No, the creation is not the “very good” place that God originally made it to be. Even the brightest noon-day sun and the most stunning evening sunset are actually muted and dull, compared to what they should be. And all because of us sinful humans. But, as St. Paul says, “the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God” (Rom. 8:19).

And Jesus in the boat has revealed Himself to be the very Son of God who will set free both the creation and you, His followers. When Jesus calmed that storm, He also made a promise to you, me, and all who trust Him. Not only can He still a storm on the Sea of Galilee, not only does He still the storms of sin, doubt, and cowardice within you, but He will one day also restore the whole creation to God’s good design.

This Jesus—this Man who is God; God with us; Emmanuel—He has the authority to repair the creation, undo the damage caused by sin and death. In fact, He has already begun His “fixer-upper” renovation project. You can see it begun in His death and resurrection—on the cross, in the tomb, and as He came out of that tomb on day three. “Just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Mt. 12:40). Just as Jonah was thrown into the sea and “the sea ceased from its raging” (Jonah 1:15), so also Jesus was thrown into the sea of our sin, the depths of our decay, the chaos of the cross, the tomb of our death. And He calmed the storm of God’s judgment raging against us. Not only does your Lord have the authority to calm storms, but He also has the authority to forgive your sins, calm your craven fears, and restore you to life with Him.

So you enter the boat of His Church through the peaceful waters of Baptism. You hear the calming words of His Absolution. You feast on His Body and Blood under bread and wine to be strengthened and sustained in the face of all things that cause cowardly fear. You may take courage and be brave. You live under Jesus in His kingdom. You “serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence and blessedness.” What does this mean? You belong to Him. He grants you His strength and protection. He supports you in all dangers. He carries you through all temptations, especially temptations to craven fear. It also means that we “look forward to the day when sin, death, and the devil will no longer hinder us from serving Him with complete devotion in peace and joy forever” (Expl. of SC, #179). Amen. 


03 November 2020

Homily for All Saints' Day - 2020

"Jesus' End is Our Beginning"

Revelation 7:2-17; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12



A pastor friend once said: “On All Saints’ Day we preach the parish’s funeral sermon.” That’s most fitting. This time of year our hearts and minds naturally gravitate toward the end of things. We experience shorter days and longer nights. Weather gets colder and leaves fall from the trees. We anticipate the so-called “death” of winter.

When we celebrate All Saints’ Day, we name those from our congregational family who have died since last All Saints’ Day. Today we remember Don, Leslie, Doris, Viola, and Jean. This also draws our attention to our own end, to our own death. It’s what we fear and fight at all times. In fact, our many other fears, no doubt, are manifestations and outgrowths of our fear of death. Why do we fear COVID so much? Ultimately, because we fear dying. We also fight and fear our own sins, our own sinful desires, the world’s contempt, the world’s persecutions. Now we are not being morbid or doom-and-gloom. We’re simply being realistic. In our realism we also learn to persevere. As we will soon sing:

Oh, blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.

And when the fight is fierce, the warfare long,
Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
(LSB677:4-5)

Keeping our eyes focused on the end, on the goal, helps us persevere. On All Saints’ Day, our Lord Jesus gives His end-time promises to comfort us and strengthen our faith for our “new beginning” as His holy people.

Our first reading gives us a glimpse of heavenly glory to sustain us in our earthly pilgrimage. In the first portion, we get to see God’s view of His Church on earth. The living God knows His saints. No matter how bad things get for us and from our perspective, our Lord gives us His point of view. One hundred forty-four thousand are sealed—12,000 from each of the 12 tribes. It’s not a literal number; it’s the symbolic number of perfect completeness. When you hear the term “sealed,” think Baptism and the sign of the cross made on your forehead. It’s the mark of ownership and protection. God knows His own and keeps His own—the perfectly complete number of them.

In the second portion of this reading, we get a sneak peak of the Church in eternal triumph. God’s saints know their God. It’s a vast “multitude that no one could number.” More than that, this entourage is “standing before the throne and before the Lamb.” As you can see depicted on our wall, they are wrapped around with white robes. In the reading, they also carry palm branches of victory. They joyfully cry out with a loud, unified voice: “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” In Christ, salvation’s victory is an absolute certainty.

You who now live in the great tribulation have a promise that gives you hope and courage to stare down all fear. Those robes washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb will be your glorious dress. The life you now have—life from God and with God—will be fully seen and enjoyed. Keep your eyes on the goal; it helps you persevere.

Our second reading gives us a personal promise to calm and purify us as we wait. “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” True love begets true children. God declares it and makes it so, even for us who are so fearful and fatigued in the fight. What kind of love is this? St. John later says, “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us” (1 Jn. 3:16). Our Lord engaged in the same fierce fight we must endure, and more. His struggle took Him to the long warfare of the cross—battered by betrayal, mocking, and isolation; injured by thorns, lashes, and spikes; and finally finished by giving up His own spirit. It was all love because it was all endured for you. And once He rose on the third day, it became clear for all to see. Your Lord, the Lamb, laid down His life and took it up again for you—to conquer your fears, your sin and sins, and your death.

It’s what makes you “God’s children now.” Oh, sure, you may feel more like an orphan, out of place and without a home in this fallen world. Your own doubts, trials, and fears may cloud your vision, and you may not always see yourself as God’s child. Don’t rely on your eyesight, though; trust your Lord’s promise. You will see clearly when He appears. And “we know that when he appears we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is.” As John also tells you today, “Everyone who thus hopes in Him purifies himself as He is pure.” You have been made pure in your Baptism—as pure as Jesus is—and you will get to see that when He appears. Keep your eyes on the goal; it helps you persevere.

Our Gospel reading gives us Jesus at the beginning of His ministry. He begins His teaching by giving us end-time promises to sustain us in our journey to new life. With your eyes on the goal, you can persevere. First, Jesus promises to fill all who suffer from innate emptiness. Note the words He uses to describe you, me, and all His followers—poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungering and thirsting. Your innate empty condition leads to the result of how you live. Because you are spiritually bankrupt—because you have absolutely nothing to offer to God—you live all of life mourning your own sin and the sin that infects the world. Because you are meek and lowly—truly in need of deliverance—you hunger and thirst for Jesus’ rightness.

Only Jesus can fill your innate emptiness. He does this in both the now and the not yet. Now He promises and assures you that His heavenly reign, with all its blessings, belongs to you. Now, by faith, to be sure. What lies ahead in the “not yet”? You will be comforted. You will inherit the earth, the new creation. You will be satisfied. All of that because you now have and will then have Him—your Savior, the Lamb who purifies you by His blood.

Then Jesus promises to transform His disciples with His very own life. Jesus’ mercy shown on the cross makes His Christians merciful. By His shed blood He creates in you a new and pure heart so that you will get to see God face-to-face. Since you are thus made a child and heir of God Himself, you now get to live, move, and have your being as a peacemaker. That’s another way of saying, “a bringer of the Gospel” to those around you. And when you are persecuted and reviled for belonging to Jesus, confessing Him, and being His faithful follower, you have a very real and powerful promise in the here and now: His heavenly reign, with all its blessings, still belongs to you. There’s no room for triumphalism in Jesus’ Church. Just as He reigns and blesses from the cross, so too you and I get to live under the cross. That’s what helps us persevere even as we keep our eyes on the goal promised by Him.

So come and be filled at His Table. Come and be transformed by Your Lord’s very Body and Blood. Here, at this Table, in this Meal, your Lord gives you the blessings of His heavenly reign: forgiveness, life, salvation, peace, and hope.

All Saints’ Day is not only the day of preaching the parish’s funeral sermon. It’s also the great Easter feast of the second half of the Church Year. On Easter we celebrate our Lord’s resurrection from the dead, His victory over death itself. On All Saints’ Day we celebrate and anticipate the coming fruits of His resurrection for us, His Church.

The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.
Alleluia! (LSB 677:6)

Amen.


26 October 2020

Homily for Reformation Day (Observed) - 2020

"Free Indeed"

John 8:31-36

 


Jesus says, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

Talk of freedom resonates with us Americans; our ears perk up. We love our liberty. Freedom is our national middle name, our country’s heart and soul, our very DNA. Everything from the year 1776 to the Fourth of July every year to freedom of speech and religious liberty proclaims our love for liberty. But when we talk of freedom, we must ask two crucial questions: 1) Free from what? and 2) Free for what?

In our national experience, our love of liberty is rooted in freedom from government tyranny—that is, from government presuming it knows better than you how to run your life for you. Think King George, Great Britain, and burdensome taxes and regulations in the late 1700s. Building on the notion that all people are created equal, our American founders built a governing system “of the people, by the people, for the people,” as Abraham Lincoln would say a century later. Think freedom for living by the God-given rights of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” which means keeping your property.

In our Gospel, we hear of a different, deeper freedom. Jesus  teaches some Jews who had believed Him. They’ve heard His teaching and they believe that He is God’s promised Messiah. Exactly what they understood that to mean may be up for debate. So Jesus begins His sermon: “If you abide in My word, you are truly My disciples, and you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” At that all ears perked up. “Will set you free?” These good Jewish believers thought they were already free. We good Americans think that we are already free. What does Jesus mean by “free”? Free from what?

The Jewish believers who listened to Jesus could not stomach being told they were slaves. They pushed back: “We…have never been enslaved to anyone.” On the surface we might say, “Oh yeah?” Had they conveniently forgotten their forefathers who lived in Egyptian slavery  for 400 years? What of their ancestors who lived in Babylonian exile for 70 years? Must have slipped their minds. Did they have blinders on to the Roman Empire occupying their backwater little country even as they spoke?

Or they may have been thinking of something else. Even when they were enslaved in Egypt, they could claim they still belonged only to the God of Israel. Even when they were exiled in Babylon, they still belonged to and served Yahweh. Even as they lived under Roman rule, their self-proclaimed allegiance was to the true God.

Either way, Jesus had to redirect their focus. They were forgetting one undeniable truth—slavery to sin. We also conveniently forget that we are, in fact, slaves to sin. As Jesus says, “Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.” We all commit our sins—insensitive words or deeds, uncaring, spiteful thoughts and feelings, neglecting to care for family or friends, gossip, greed, and so on. Jesus wants us to “abide in His word,” His word of truth. But we succumb to the slavery of our society and question if there is such a thing as absolute truth. We say with our fellow slaves in society, “What’s true for you is not true for me.”

Jesus wants us to abide in His Word. He wants us to remain in His truth. He wants us to dwell in His message of the liberated life. But all we need to do is examine our daily routines and priorities. Daily routines of work and school tend to crowd out time spent dwelling in Jesus’ Word. Our slavery to our schedules drives us to say, “I don’t have time for worship, for Bible study, for family prayer.” We are slaves to thinking we are in control of all things in life. We are slaves to our calendars, our commitments, and our self-imposed goals and priorities. We are slaves to the very computers, devices, and smart phones that are supposed to make life more free. We are slaves to ourselves—to imagining that we must control everything in life, even God Himself.

So Jesus says, “the slave does not remain in the house forever.” No slave—no sinner—gets to dwell in God’s house—that is, no sinner-slave who is not freed by Christ Himself. Our sins hang around our necks and weigh us down. Our guilt for putting ourselves in the place of God shackles us down. We cannot move. We need help. We need Someone to liberate us.

So, if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. Jesus Christ, true Son of God in the flesh, comes to set you free. How so? By taking the chains of your sin and your guilt off of you and putting them on Himself. And He takes not only your chains, but also the chains of the people around you, the chains of all people of all times and all places. These chains of sin shackled Jesus to the cross. And bound there by His eternal love for you and for all people, He was crushed under the burden. But then He rose from the dead. And you are free. Free from what? Free from sin, free from a guilty conscience.

Now we can ask: Free for what? Luther and the Reformation give us a great blessing: the Church always refocusing on God’s unshackled grace in Christ Jesus. In Christ we have all of God’s boundless mercy and love. In Christ Jesus we have freedom from sin, death, and hell. Now what? Now that we no longer have to impress God, butter Him up, or buy Him off, how do we go about life? For what are we free?

It’s sad but true that in our liberty-loving land of America, freedom has come to mean “free to do whatever I want.” Many in our land love freedom so much that they trash and defame the very country that gives them freedom. It’s even sadder that we Christians do the same with God’s rich, sweet, life-giving mercy. How often do we use the freedom of our Lord’s forgiveness to slip back into our sinful ways? What of the times when we either think or act as though hearing our Lord’s Word and receiving His Body and Blood were somehow optional, rather than necessary for life?

St. Paul captured this dilemma. “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means!” (Rom. 6:1-2) Shall we use our freedom from sin to sin all the more? Of course not! St. Paul goes on: “Having been set free from sin, you become slaves of righteousness.” (Rom. 6:18). Yes, you are freed from sin for living a better life, a different kind of life. You are freed from service to self so that you may live as God designed you to live.

Luther expressed it this way during the Reformation: “A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.” Here’s the paradox of our freedom in Christ. We are free before God—free from sin, guilt, and eternal death. We are completely free to relax in God’s presence. At the same time, we are also free for living as God’s servants. We are completely free to practice the kind of humanity that God designed for us. That means trusting God above all things and serving our neighbors in love.

For what has Christ set you free? He has set you free for service to other people. You are free to serve one another. Parents, you are free to serve your children, especially by teaching them God’s life-giving Word. Children, you are free to serve your parents by honoring and obeying them. Workers and students, you are free to put your best efforts into your work. Supervisors and managers, you are free to take care of your workers. As Christians—God’s free forgiven people—you are free to be slaves—slaves to people around you, free for service.

By God’s grace, may it be so for you—free from sin before God, free for service to your neighbor. If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. Amen.

 

01 June 2020

Homily for the Day of Pentecost - 2020

"Let Not Your Hearts Be Troubled"
John 14:23-31

Listen here.

Let’s be honest with ourselves and with each other. Five full months into the year 2020, fear has come to be our friend; panic has become our companion. I’m not referring only to the current pandemic. It’s just the most recent proof positive. Since hindsight is 20/20, let’s quickly look back over the past 20 years.

Who remembers good old “Y2K”? The fear was that as the year 1999 turned into the year 2000, at the very stroke of midnight, all manner of chaos would erupt. Why? Many feared—and the media hyped the fear—that time-keeping and computing devices around the world would not be able to turn all four digits from 1999 to 2000. Yet, here we are—20 years later, still alive and kicking.

Who can forget September 11, 2001? We who lived through it remember where we were and the fear we felt that day terrorists flew planes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, killing nearly 3,000 innocent Americans. We were under attack on our own soil! People rushed to stock up on groceries for their cupboards and put gas in their cars. The stock market took a nosedive. We would be going to war. We were very afraid for a time!

Soon after that, there was that little white powder scare. Remember Anthrax? Envelopes containing a contagious white powder thought to be a biological weapon were sent to certain government leaders. Soon after that we all were fearful of what might arrive in our own mail boxes. Could that letter or bill be deadly? And then the plastic and the duct tape. Government leaders spoke often of how easily weaponized pathogens can spread through the air. So we were advised to seal up our windows with that plastic and duct tape.

In 2007-08, we endured the “Great Recession.” Fears abounded over the subprime mortgage crisis, the falling stock market, bailouts of banks and companies “too big to fail,” and what would happen to our own retirement investments.

The SARS epidemic sparked fears in 2002-2004. The MERS epidemic struck around 2012-2015. In 2014 we in St. Louis endured—and feared—the mess in Ferguson. We can certainly relate to what’s happened in Minneapolis, and we’re even joining in—fearful of injustice and fearful of needless destruction at the same time.

As a society and as individuals living in this society—even as blood-bought sinners redeemed by Jesus who live in this society—fear has become our familiar friend and panic our constant companion. The media either thrives on our fears or stirs our fears or—most likely—both. What does it do to us mentally, emotionally and spiritually when we keep hearing, over and over again, at least every commercial break, phrases such as “uncertain times,” “unprecedented times,” or “new normal”?

And I had to chuckle when I came across a couple of headlines this past week. No, these were not in the Babylon Bee or some other satire site; they’re from actual news sites. One headline said: “Half of Americans fear [Notice that?] they won’t get their pre-coronavirus body back, survey shows.” Evidently, with gyms closed, it’s not so easy to burn off all of the junk food, alcohol, and other carbohydrates we’re turning to these days. The other headline said: “Monkeys attack lab worker, steal COVID-19 samples as 2020 continues to use critters to try to kill us all.” Evidently, the lockdowns in India have emboldened the monkeys to take charge in Planet of the Apes style.

Fear has become our familiar friend. But he’s not a healthy friend. It’s a rather toxic relationship. It might even be something like Stockholm syndrome. That’s when a captive develops emotional and psychological bonds with and for their captor. The victim may even defend the captor.

But if we keep fear as our friend, we’re also likely to welcome pride as another close buddy. It’s what happened at the Tower of Babel. We usually focus on their pride of making a name for themselves. But what laid the foundation for that pride? What sparked the fire of that pride? Look behind the pride, and you can see fear calling the shots. They were afraid they would be nobodies, irrelevant, even forgotten. Our friendship with fear leads us to rely on ourselves to fix our fearful circumstances.

What does all of this have to do with Pentecost Day and the coming of the Holy Spirit? Did you hear what your Lord Jesus said as He promised to send the Helper, the Holy Spirit? Did His words get into your ears, your mind and your heart, or has fear plugged your ears and numbed your heart and mind? Listen again. After all, it’s your Lord Jesus talking—no camera, no microphone, no viral tweet or video. But His words have endured the test of time. His words bring solace to troubled souls. What did He say? “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

When your Lord tells you, “Let not your hearts be troubled,” He’s saying, “Don’t let all those other things disturb you, upset you, terrify you, or frighten you.” This verb for “be troubled” gives the picture of a body of water being stirred up. The sediment and dirt at the bottom gunk up the water and take away its clarity. And when Jesus says, “…neither let them be afraid,” He’s using a unique word for “be afraid.” We could also render it: “Neither let your hearts be cowardly or timid.”

You see, Jesus can say these things because He has lived life in your flesh and walked in your shoes in this fallen world. He knows the multitudes of things that bring fear, from plagues to terrorist attacks to riots to aggressive monkeys. And He has suffered, bled, and died to overcome the fears, to conquer the cowardice, and to clear up the water of your heart and soul. His resurrection proves that death itself has been trampled down. So what are all those other things that stir us up or make us tremble inside? They cannot take away Jesus’ victory over sin and death; they cannot take away Jesus’ peace.

It was the night before He would go to the cross when Jesus told His fearful disciples: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you.” His cross and resurrection would bring them peace. They also bring you peace, as long as you keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of your faith. He is your true friend who loves you and has laid down His life for you. When you make fear your friend, you will only be abused over and over again. But Jesus is your true Friend who gives healing and peace—peace with God, peace with one another, and peace within when the world rages.

And your best Friend, Jesus, gives you another Helper: the Spirit of truth. This Third Person of the Trinity who appeared in tongues of fire and enabled Gospel preaching on the first Pentecost comes to dwell with you and be in you. He comes to teach you the things of Jesus, not the things of fear. He comes to comfort and sustain and give courage. “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you” (Rom. 8:11). He is “the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might” (Is. 11:2).

Just as He rested on Jesus, coming down on Him in His Baptism, so He rests on you through your Baptism into Christ. Just as He sustained and nourished Jesus in the wilderness, so He sustains and nourishes you in the wilderness of this fallen, sick, riotous world—especially as you hear the words of Jesus and feast on His Body and  Blood.

Let the Holy Spirit remind you of something Jesus said. “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt. 10:28). Then couple that with something Jesus says throughout His written word: “everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:21). Saved not only from pandemics and riots and other frightful things; but saved from fear itself. After all, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18), and “this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Amen.

22 May 2020

Homily for Ascension Day - 2020

"Ascended for Our Healing"
Luke 24:44-53

Listen here.

How good, Lord, to be here! How good to see you here too!

What a sacred season this has been! The last time most of us were together here was the middle of Lent. We were still building up to the dramatic climax of Holy Week. Then along came Coronavirus and COVID-19. Our governing and medical authorities advised us to stay home, stay apart, not gather, wash hands and so forth. Out of love for our vulnerable neighbors, and with godly submission to our governing authorities, we willingly did so. Then the authorities chose to force the issue by declaring states of emergency and ordering us to be locked down. Thankfully, we could still proclaim God’s Word by other media. But still, it wasn’t as it should be.

So as a gathered congregation we missed the rising tensions between Jesus and the religious authorities of His day. We missed His triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We missed receiving His Body and Blood on the night when He was betrayed. We missed His bloody battle on the cross and His cosmic victory over death and devil. We missed holding vigil and joyfully ringing in His glorious resurrection. And we’ve missed gathering together these past weeks to revel in His resurrection.

It’s almost like sitting down to watch a favorite movie—for the 100th time. You know the story and you love the story. You’re enjoying the story. Then the drowsiness creeps in and you doze off just before the climactic, most important part. As you snooze, the story moves along. Then suddenly you wake up. The music is triumphant. Peace is restored. All is well once again. Yes, you missed the best, climactic part of the story, but you know the story well enough and the denouement—the final resolution—still brings great joy.

This is where we are now—the denouement, the final resolution. “See, the Lord ascends in triumph; / Conqu’ring King in royal state, / Riding on the clouds, His chariot, / To His heav’nly palace gate” (LSB 491:1).

Our Lord’s ascension really does put everything else in perspective. Before He was lifted up and hidden by the cloud, Jesus put all things in perspective for His eleven disciples. Everything written about Him in Moses’ Law, in the Prophets and in the Psalms—in all of the Old Testament Scriptures—must be fulfilled. Everything we read and hear from Genesis through Malachi points us to Jesus. The creation shows us God’s eternal will and plan—perfect life with Him. We humans fell into sin, brought death into the world, and spoiled God’s creation. But God promised to set things right. He chose a people through Abraham. He rescued His people from slavery and led them into the Promised Land. He even elevated a king named David to point us to our true, eternal King. The prophets proclaimed repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The psalms sang of Christ and His works of salvation. Through it all, our God was working to return His human creatures to His perfect Eden.

And He still is. Moses’ Law, the Prophets, the Psalms, and especially the New Testament still point us to Christ Jesus, our true King. “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead.”  As St. Paul proclaimed, “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace”  (Eph. 1:7). This is what makes Jesus our King of kings, our Lord of lords, and our highest authority above all authorities. After all, now that Jesus has ascended, He is far above all rule and authority and dominion. All things are put under His feet and He rules all things for the good of His Church.

This puts all things in perspective. Even pandemics. Even lock downs. Even the fears and uncertainties of our time. When Jesus ascended, He gave His apostles and His Church a singular mission: “that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations.” How has your ascended Lord led you in repentance for the forgiveness of sins these past few weeks?

What or whom have you feared, loved or trusted above God Himself? That tiny microscopic virus with the crowned spikes has been causing a lot of fear. Even the omnipresent pictures on TV and the Internet look frightful. Pictures and news stories of those infected and badly suffering are most unsettling. Now simple handshakes, coughs and sneezes set off the fear response. We’re practically in fight-or-flight mode whenever we encounter another human being outside our own home. We have been trusting the authorities to keep us safe and the media to keep us well-informed, despite the ever-changing and often-conflicting information. We fallen human beings have been trusting ourselves to overcome both the pandemic and the now shattered economy.

As I’ve said before, times like this are God’s way of tapping us on the shoulder, getting our attention, turning us toward Him and saying, “Hey, I’m still here. I’m still in charge. And I still want you to fear, love and trust Me above all things.” For this, we can actually appreciate this pandemic and all its fallout. Some speak of their new found appreciation for family time during the lock down. Some speak of cooking meals rather than dining out. Others find other blessings. These can be good things. The greater “blessing” of a time like this, though, is being drawn back to our true King and Lord. God always seeks to dislodge us from our misplaced fear, love and trust. If only we got as worked up about our infection of sin as we have about COVID-19! At least most people recover from COVID-19—one source says about 85% recover, other sources say up to 98%. But none of us can recover from our disease of sin and being separated from God.

Our ascended Savior is our loving Lord who says, “There is no god beside me; I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal” (Dt. 32:39). And heal He does. He, the Son of God, took on our frail human nature. Though He Himself had no sin, He was made sin “so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). Our Lord’s death on a Friday and resurrection on the third day is the only perfect healing medicine for all time. “With His wounds we are healed” (Is. 53:5). It’s the only medicine for what truly infects each and every human being of every time and place.

So when Jesus ascended to the Father’s right hand, He showed that all is fulfilled and completed, all is well between us and God, even in this broken world. With our Lord ascended in triumph and crowned in glory, we need not fear, love or trust anyone or anything else for our ultimate health and well-being. One commentator explained the significance of this day this way: “Christ’s ascension confers divine honors upon us” (Parsch, III:164). Neither pandemic nor social, cultural disruption can change that.

In a very short time we will break our Eucharistic fast. As we rejoice in being together once again, let’s rejoice even more in what brings us together—our ascended Lord who now comes to us in His very Body and Blood. It’s much more than a community meal. It’s the genuine “medicine of immortality.” And pay close attention to the Proper Preface—the prayer—leading up to our Lord’s sacred Meal. What was the purpose of our Lord’s life, crucifixion, resurrection and ascension? What is the fruit and benefit of His Holy Supper? “That He might make us partakers of His divine life.”

When you, by His grace and His working, partake of His divine life, you have forgiveness for your fears. You have life in this world of death. You have rescue and healing from the sin that infects.

What a great day to do what the disciples did. As Jesus “parted from them and was carried up into heaven,” they worshiped Him with great joy. And they were continually in the temple blessing God. What a great day to return to this place of worship and joy. Blessed by our ascended Lord, we bless Him in return. Amen.

19 May 2020

Homily for Easter 6 (Rogate) - 2020

Ask, and You Will Receive
John 16:23-33

Listen here.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

“Next to preaching the Word, the greatest devotion Christians can render to God is to pray” (Luther, HP 2:104). That’s Martin Luther, preaching on “Pray! Sunday” in 1534. It’s both our duty and our privilege to pray to the Lord of heaven and earth, the Lord who made heaven and earth, the Lord who restores heaven and earth by His dying and rising, the Lord who even now governs all things in heaven and earth for our good. This is the same Lord of heaven and earth who graciously invites you and all His followers: “Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.”

And if there were ever a perfect time to focus on prayer, it’s right now. I don’t say that simply because of this current pandemic of sickness, fear and death. That’s  certainly good motivation for prayer, to be sure. No, this is the perfect time to focus on prayer because, now that we are forced to stay home, we actually have time for prayer. How often haven’t each of us heard and even said, “I just don’t have time to pray”? Well, our Lord has graciously taken away that excuse. So, turn off Netflix, sign out of YouTube and Facebook, and put time—or times—for prayer on your wide open daily schedule. And then keep those appointments with God, both now and even after you get to go back to work. Luther also offered this ground-level starting point for prayer: “At least pray in the morning when you arise from sleep, at table, and as you finish eating, and again in the evening when you go to bed, saying, ‘Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,’ and so on” (HP 2:106).

You see, your Lord Jesus gives you a most winsome invitation to prayer. “If you love Me,” Jesus says, “you can be certain that My Father also loves you.” “For the Father Himself loves you, because you have loved Me and have believed that I came from God.” Not only that, but the Father loves you so much that He will certainly hear your prayer. It’s the natural fruit of Jesus’ death and resurrection—that you may pray just as He prays.

God’s Word also reminds us that it’s our duty, even our responsibility, as Christians to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17). If you cannot do so aloud, you can at least do so silently. Every moment our hearts should be expressing the desire that God’s name be hallowed, His kingdom come, and His will be done; also that He would grant all we need for the support and needs of the body, for our forgiveness, for our protection in temptation and for our deliverance from evil.

But with the silent prayer of the heart, do not neglect your oral, spoken prayers. Now, you do not need to be brilliantly eloquent or a smooth craftsman of words. Often the simple words and short sentences are the best prayers. Your Father hears and understands all of them. Besides, the point is not to be a perfect “pray-er,” but always to call upon your Lord in the day of trouble—that is, every day—that He may deliver you and you may glorify Him (Ps. 50:15). When you have faith in Christ, you are perfectly prepared to open your mouth as a genuine priest. You may joyfully petition Him for things important and needful for yourself and other Christians.

So it’s most helpful to have something in mind for which to pray. How do you know what is important and needful? Just remember, we live in this “valley of sorrow” where there is no lack of sin and trouble. Also remember Peter’s warning: “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Pet. 5:8). He will do anything and everything to divert you from clinging to God and calling upon God. And if you really cannot come up with any need for which to pray, simply turn to the Lord’s Prayer. In seven short petitions, your Lord who loves you brings your true needs to mind and even puts words into your mouth.

In the first petition—Hallowed be Thy name—we pray for the sweet Gospel and for all faithful pastors, that His Word may be taught truly and purely and that we may lead holy lives according to it. We also pray against all heresy, false teaching and non-Christian religions, that we may be protected from them.

In the second petition—Thy kingdom come—we pray that, by the Holy Spirit, God’s kingdom of grace may come to us and be established among us. We also pray that our Lord would thwart and bring to naught all that death and the devil foist upon us.

In the third petition—Thy will be done—we pray our Lord to break and hinder every evil plan and purpose of the devil, the world and our sinful nature, and also to strengthen us and keep us firm in His good and gracious will.

In the fourth petition—Give us this day our daily bread—we pray for a laundry list of things! “Everything that has to do with the support and needs of the body.” One of those things is good government—praying “for kings and all who are in high positions.” And in light of this pandemic and its fall out, boy, do our leaders need our prayers! Fallible human beings making decisions that affect so many other fallible human beings. Some make good decisions and serve well; others show themselves to be quite power-hungry. Also, if you listen to them carefully, no longer are they saying, “In God we trust”; now they’re telling us, “In science we trust.” (Now, true science is not bad at all, but it cannot replace God.) We need to pray for them, “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” in the freedom of the Gospel.

In the fifth petition—Forgive us our trespasses—we pray that our Lord would be gracious to us, turn away His wrath, which we truly deserve, and deal with us purely by His grace in Jesus. We also pray Him to make us forgiving toward our neighbor and gladly do good to them. Boy, is that needed right now as so many neighbors are so worked up with anxiety and fear.

In the sixth petition—Lead us not into temptation—we ask our Lord to come rushing to our aid when we face temptation and trial, guarding and keeping us from the prowling adversary. In this fallen world we may have tribulation, but in our Lord Jesus we have peace. We can take heart because He has overcome the adversary and the world along with everything they try to throw at us.

And in the seventh petition—Deliver us from evil—we wrap it all up with a beautiful bow. We pray for that blessed and glorious time when our Lord, by His grace, will deliver us from all that ails us in this valley of sorrow with its viruses, anxieties, and injustices. Then we will behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Then we will dwell with God and He with us. Then He will wipe away our every tear and death shall be no more.

So we have plenty of needs to lead us to pray without ceasing. And we pray in the name of our Lord Jesus. What does this mean? First, we must confess that we are poor, miserable sinners. We deserve nothing, yet He graciously bestows everything. Second, we pray with His invitation and authorization. “Whatever you ask of the Father in My name,” Jesus promises, “He will give it to you.” It sounds like a blank check with Jesus’ signature, written in blood, on the bottom line. And it is. But not for every silly thing you may want, rather for every beneficial thing Jesus promises. As C. S. Lewis once quipped: “If God had granted all the silly prayers I’ve made in my life, where should I be now?” (Letters to Malcolm, ch. 5, para. 16).

When we pray, we are doing what God through Moses told the Israelites to do in the wilderness. As they wandered in the wilderness, they became victims of their own fears and anxieties. They complained about their circumstances. So God sent the fiery serpents to bring them back to repentance and humility. And the cure for them is the same cure for us. They were asked to look upon a bronze serpent on a pole. We get to look at a Savior crucified on a cross and risen from the grave. “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him may have eternal life” (Jn. 3:14-15).

There’s your real motivation to pray. You may ask your Lord, and you will receive, and your joy will be full. After all, He has overcome the world to show you and give you the Father’s love. Amen.

12 May 2020

Homily for Easter 5 (Cantate) - 2020

"From Sorrow to Singing"
John 16:5-15

Listen here.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

“Oh sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things! His right hand and his holy arm have worked salvation for him” (Ps. 98:1). The Church sings! Christians sing! Today, the 5th Sunday of Easter, is called “Sing! Sunday”—or Cantate in the Latin. “Oh come, let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!” (Ps. 95:1).

But so often we really do not feel much like singing, especially these days. We find ourselves in the same spot as the disciples where “sorrow has filled [our] heart.”

In our Gospel reading, Jesus is preparing His disciples for His departure. He will go away to His cross. He will rise again the third day. And forty days after that He will go away again as He ascends to His Father. Before this text, our Lord told them, “Let not your hearts be troubled. … I go and prepare a place for you” (Jn. 14:1, 3). He also said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. … Let not your hearts be troubled” (Jn. 14:27). Then He told them that the world would hate them because it hated Him first (Jn. 15:18-19). No wonder sorrow filled their heart!

Are we any different? We live in the time between Jesus’ ascension and His reappearing. We cannot see Him now. We must walk by faith, not by sight. We have many sorrows—the pending or actual loss of a loved one, the biopsy coming back positive for cancer, ending up in the unemployment line, devastation from natural disasters. Oh, and all of the uncertainty in our current pandemic—the flood of information, conflicting information, even misinformation. And, on top of that, we truly are suffering and sorrowful from another contagion. I’m calling it the “panic-demic”—the pandemic of constant fear—fear of leaving our homes, fear of breathing the air, fear of getting too close to other human beings, fear of touching surfaces and objects, fear of those wearing masks and fear of those not wearing them. It’s no wonder Luther called life in this fallen creation “this valley of sorrow.”

And now we come to “Sing! Sunday”? We are more like the Israelites in their Babylonian Captivity: “By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept…. On the willows there we hung up our lyres…. How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (Ps. 137). How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a land of disease, fear and sorrow?

So Jesus comforts His disciples with the Promised Holy Spirit: “It is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you.” This “Helper,” this “Comforter,” this “Paraklete” is the Holy Spirit Himself, the Third Person of the Holy Trinity. He is Counsel for your defense. He is called alongside you, God’s children. And so Jesus says, “I will not leave you as orphans” (Jn. 14:18).

What does this promised Holy Spirit do? “He will convict/convince the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.” The sin is not believing in Jesus. The righteousness is what Jesus accomplished by His cross, empty tomb and ascension to go to the Father. The judgment is the final verdict for the “ruler of this world,” Satan himself. And the Holy Spirit does His convicting and convincing through the tool and instrument of His Word. Every time you hear His Word read and proclaimed, every time you read it yourself, every time you sing it, the Spirit is showing you your sin, revealing Christ’s righteousness to you, and comforting you that the devil is a convicted, condemned enemy.

During these past months of this pandemic, have you noticed the one thing missing? I know, things have moved fast and furious; there have been so many decisions, so much information, and so many Zoom meetings. But have you discerned at all the one thing missing? The one thing missing is the one thing needful—the Holy Spirit working through His Word. These days we find ourselves walking in the shoes of Martha—busy doing many things in our distraction—rather than sitting with Mary at the feet of Jesus—attentively listening to His teaching. What do I mean?

What could the Holy Spirit, sent by Jesus Himself, be working and achieving at this time of pandemic? I can think of three things. First, He is convicting the world of sin, of not believing in Jesus. You see, Jesus is the only Savior for both body and soul—not vaccines, not presidents or governors or mayors or health officials, not even our best efforts at social distancing or mask wearing. “Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation” (Ps. 146:3). When the dust settles, we may just realize how little of what we’ve done to stem the COVID tide has actually worked as advertised. But we can be confident that our Lord Jesus, the true Son of Man who made heaven and earth, He’s the one—the only one—who can overcome pandemics, as well as fears and sorrows.

The second thing the Holy Spirit is no doubt doing is driving us to righteousness. Through His Word He drives us to the One Man who endured the cross, who rose again, and who ascended to the Father’s right hand. On that cross, the Man of Sorrows took your sorrows on Himself, as well as your fears, your doubts and your misplaced trust. He buried all of your sins and sorrows in His tomb and left them there when He rose again. And now He reigns over all things for your good both now and into eternity. That’s cause for singing even in the midst of sorrow!

The third thing the Holy Spirit is doing is convincing us that the ruler of this world—the devil himself—is judged, convicted, and condemned. His dictatorial, oppressive ways are done. “This world’s prince may still / Scowl fierce as he will, / He can harm us none. / He’s judged; the deed is done; / One little word can fell him” (LSB 656:3). That’s something worth singing about!

Oh, there is a fourth thing the Holy Spirit is up to. Actually, it’s the over all thing, the one thing needful. First, Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (Jn. 14:6). Then He said, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” The Holy Spirit guides you into Jesus Himself. And joined to Jesus in your Baptism, you have no need to get lost in your sorrows or fears. After all, He’s with you in the midst of those sorrows and fears, carrying them with you and for you.

In 1533, Martin Luther preached on the comfort Jesus gave His disciples in this Gospel reading and now gives us. Here’s one thing Luther said: “All this is written for our sakes, that we may learn to be patient and courageous in trial, cross, and suffering, and bear in mind, if the disciples and apostles had to endure heartbreak with patience, relinquish the Lord Christ, and wait for the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, then we must learn to do the same, take up our cross, be patient, trust and believe in Christ, who says that things will in time be much better for us than they are now” (HP 2:99).

So despite the sorrows, set backs and sadnesses, despite the changes and chances of life, we can still sing the Lord’s song. As James reminds us today: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” When car tires wear down from use and strain, they stay worn down. But when muscles wear down from use and strain, they grow stronger. God strengthens your faith by exercise and through affliction. “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom. 5:3-5).

When you have Jesus, you really do have all you need. And you can sing the Lord’s salvation song. Our risen Lord Jesus heals our sorrow-filled hearts in order that we may sing His song of salvation. “Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.” Amen.

04 May 2020

Homily for Easter 4 (Jubilate) - 2020

"Waiting"
John 16:16-22

Listen here.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Waiting. Before Coronavirus it simply drove us nuts. Now it’s driving us absolutely bonkers. We spend so much of our time just waiting—waiting in the check out line at Schnucks, or now waiting in line just to get into to the store; waiting for the stop light to change from red to green, especially when there’s no traffic coming from any other direction; waiting for stay-at-home edicts finally to end and normal life to resume. We spend so much of our time just waiting. And we don’t enjoy it at all, not even a little bit.

Then along comes Isaiah today. He talks of waiting in attractive, positive terms. “They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Normally, we think of waiting as something that wearies and exhausts, something that tests our patience and makes our kindness wear thin. Isaiah, though, suggests that waiting actually invigorates us, strengthens us, and fulfills us. Of course, he wasn’t referring to just any old waiting; he spoke of waiting “for the LORD.”

What does it mean for us Christians to wait “for the LORD”? The Apostle John boldly says this in his first letter: “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” (1 John 3:1) Yes, he means it, and it’s quite true. In our Baptism into Jesus, all that belongs to Jesus has been given to us. He is the beloved Son, and when we are baptized into Him, WE also become God’s beloved children. His Father becomes our Father. His inheritance becomes our inheritance. Everything that belongs to Him, He gives to us, especially a life that neither COVID nor death can destroy.

How is that possible? Because He came to take all that belonged to us—our sin, our doubts, our illnesses, even our impatience—and make it His own. Not only did He take our sin on Himself, but He also took our death and everything we deserved for our sin. And He bore it all for us on the cross. Now He gives to us all that belongs to Him through Baptism in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Now, the world knows nothing of this. The world sees us Christians as just ordinary people, even non-essential. But let’s not be surprised. After all, as John also says, “The reason why the world does not know us—that is, as God’s beloved children—is that it did not know Him.” (1 John 3:1) The real problem, though, comes when WE forget to see ourselves that way, when WE forget to BE who we really are, when WE forget to ACT according to our high and holy calling.

We ARE God’s children right now, not just at some time in the far-distant future. And we are His waiting children. We are waiting on the Lord. This is why St. Peter calls us “sojourners and exiles.” It’s why exhorts us to “live as people who are free” even as we honor everyone, love the brotherhood, fear God, and honor the emperor. This is why it “is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly.”

And so we wait. We are waiting and looking forward to a glorious moment: that instant when Christ Himself will appear. The Bible calls it the “Parousia,” or “Presence of the Lord.” We often call it His “coming,” but it’s really more of an unveiling of His hidden presence. It’s not as if Jesus is off in a galaxy far, far away and will come rushing in at warp speed to save the day. Instead, it’s more like a curtain being lifted suddenly and swiftly so that we can see the wonderful truth that our Lord has always been here, hidden within the life of His holy Church.

And His “appearing” is not His alone. In an instant, in the twinkling of the eye, we too will be changed, and we shall be like Him, complete with bodies incorruptible, filled with light, shining with the glory of God. Right now, we walk around cloaked. Our glory is hidden from and unknown to all around us. It’s even hidden from us. But the moment of our Lord’s appearing will also mean the unveiling of who we truly are. And we’re eagerly waiting for it!

“And everyone,” says St. John, “who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.” You see, when you’re waiting for that glorious moment—that moment when you will be revealed as a child of the Eternal Father, a brother of His beloved Son, an heir of His eternal estate—you take care to start living that way already. Even without the glorious robes of our future nobility, we seek to live as princes and princesses who just happen to be dressed as paupers in this world. That’s the way it was for our Lord. So, we always want our behavior and our life-style, our living and our working, to reflect the hope that we have in Jesus, the hope of the children’s great unveiling at the Appearing of our Savior.

But waiting CAN be painful. Jesus recognizes this in today’s Gospel: “A little while…a little while…a little while.” Think of little ones in the back seat on a road trip: “Are we there yet? How much longer? I’m hungry. I have to go….” And the dreaded answer? “A little while.” Grr! Jesus said this to His apostles the night before He entered His Passover. He warned them that they would not see Him—meaning His death and burial. But then, He said, they would see Him again and their hearts would rejoice, and no one would be able snatch their joy away from them—here meaning His glorious, life-giving resurrection.

But as the Church reads these words today, we think of more than just the Apostles and the past. Ever since our Lord ascended to God’s right hand, we also live in the “little while” of our Lord. We see Him no longer, but “again a little while, and [we] will see [Him].” We live and wait for that moment when we will see Him again. As He says, our hearts will rejoice. You see, that joyful moment of His return, of His appearing, of His unveiling, will also be the rebirth of all of creation. As our Lord says, “See, I make all things new.”

And so we wait. But we often get impatient and fearful and cry out: “O Lord, how long?” At those times, however many and however frequent they are, we get to hear the sweet voice of our Lord: “It’s only a little while.” When we go through the very real difficulties, the fears large or small, and the trials that tax us and wear us down, we need to hold on to that “little while.” Think of what the Church Father Basil the Great said: “The complete human existence is only a tiny interval compared with the endless age our hopes rest in” (Letter 140).

Think of it this way. Compared to the glorious inheritance that Christ has won for us—an eternal inheritance, an eternal life, unending joys, and a family reunion that goes on for endless days, and with family members whom you love and adore—compared to this, our entire earthly pilgrimage is only “a little while.”

So we wait. And when the waiting grows difficult, when we are tempted to forget who we are in God’s Beloved Son or what we are waiting for, let’s remember this: in His rich mercy our Lord Christ spreads a table before us and feeds us with His very Body and Blood. And while we wait to gather together again, our Lord’s Meal is still available by appointment.

At His Table He forgives all our fears and impatience and forgetfulness. Here He reminds us that we are truly, genuinely His—His brothers and sisters, His co-heirs. Here He gives us a foretaste of that glorious Day. It’s how He strengthens us to go on waiting. It’s how He comforts us that the “little while” really does have an end, a glorious end, a completion beyond all that we can imagine. Yes, “they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength…they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.

27 April 2020

Homily for Easter 3 (Misericordias Domini) - 2020

"Where Our Shepherd Leads"
1 Peter 2:21-25

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Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Jesus is the Good Shepherd; we are the sheep. Where the Shepherd leads, we sheep naturally follow. When He leads to green pastures, we happily go. When He leads in paths of righteousness, we joyfully go there too. When He leads through the valley of the shadow of death, we follow close behind Him. When we follow Good Shepherd Jesus, we actually follow in His footsteps. Our feet actually fall in the same tracks where the shepherd has gone before us. As we follow in His tracks, Shepherd Jesus leads us through suffering and into life.

What kind of example is Good Shepherd Jesus? St. Peter says, “Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you mighty follow in His steps.” What kind of example is that? Many people look to Jesus as some sort of example. Some see Jesus as a good example for moral virtues. Since Jesus was sinless, they conclude, He must be a good example for behaving as good, upright, moral people. If we can just follow Jesus’ perfect example, they claim, then we can be pretty good too. But there’s a glitch. Jesus knows better. He knows what kind of evil, rotten sewage comes from the human heart infected by sin and death. He knew it would take much more than a good example to cleanse and heal you.

Other people look to Jesus as an example of social justice. They claim Jesus challenged the social customs and the religious establishment of His day. He preached equality for all; He sought to rescue people from oppression—political and social oppression, they say. But, again, there’s a glitch. The oppression that Jesus rescues you from is your slavery to your own ego and your bondage to death and the devil. You don’t need a role-model; you need a Rescuer.

Today, let’s learn to think like a teacher in a schoolroom. The example that Jesus leaves for you comes from the schoolroom. The Greek word for “example” gives the picture of a schoolroom teaching method. The teacher writes a letter or a word on the slate. We might say on the paper or even the digital device. The student traces that same letter or word. That’s the example—tracing what the teacher has actually done. Jesus did not come merely to be your role-model for moral values or social justice. No, Jesus came to be your Savior from sin and death. He took on our flesh and blood to restore us to God’s image. He suffered, died, and rose again to give us life with God once again. That’s what the Master actually did. That’s the example—the tracing—He gives to you. Christ also suffered for you, leaving you [a pattern to trace].

What kind of suffering do we trace? St. Peter wrote to Christians who were persecuted simply because they trusted and confessed Jesus to be the Savior. He told them, and he tells you, to expect the persecutions, expect the ridicule, expect worshiping together in God’s house to be deemed “non-essential,” expect the sufferings for the faith. If Christ suffered, His followers can also expect to suffer—especially for doing good. Suffer for doing good? Suffer for doing what is right and trusting Christ? Sounds so unfair! Sure, to our desires and our egos. But “this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly. For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure? But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God” (1 Pet. 2:19-20).

Yes, this goes against every fiber of your being. This goes against every decent thought you want to have. You don’t like pain or suffering of any kind. The American way is to avoid any and all pain, discomfort, inconvenience, or suffering at any and all costs. Throw money at it, escape it, compromise what you believe, do anything to avoid the suffering—even complain and place blame. We Americans can be pretty soft, spoiled, and immature when it comes to hardships. Though now for a time perhaps we’re learning how to suffer.

And we really don’t know what it’s like to suffer simply for being Christians. We hear the stories of Christians put on trial or imprisoned in foreign lands, and we pray for those who are persecuted. By and large, God’s grace has preserved us from such things in our country, but there’s no guarantee this will continue. Exhibit A might be the social warriors targeting Christians for so-called discrimination. Exhibit B might be governing leaders ticketing Christians who gather for “drive-in church” and social distance by staying in their cars. What would we do if persecution came to our door? Would we try to avoid it at all costs? Would we compromise what we believe so it wouldn’t hurt so much? Would we think that we are too good to suffer? May God preserve us from such pride!

The pattern that Good Shepherd Jesus sets down for us to trace is different. It’s better. It’s salutary. St. Peter outlines the footsteps of our suffering Shepherd Jesus: “He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth.” Jesus was innocent, yet He still suffered at the hands of us sinners. “When He was reviled, He did not revile in return; when He suffered, he did not threaten.” He did not appeal to His civil rights. He did not cry for justice or a fair hearing. He certainly did not say, “Just you wait….” No, Good Shepherd Jesus absorbed all of our wickedness because He knew His true Source of help and strength. “[He] continued entrusting Himself to Him who judges justly.” He left the matter to His heavenly Father. “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.”

Where our Good Shepherd leads, we sheep will certainly follow. You may expect the suffering, especially for “doing good”—for fearing, loving, and trusting Christ as your Savior, your Life, and your Forgiver. You may expect to be unpopular, even labeled, when you trust God’s Gospel Message of life and salvation. So, when you suffer wrong—either in a misunderstanding or from outright hostility—don’t argue or complain. Rather, learn to suffer it. Learn to be forgiving and loving. Learn to absorb it and take it in. You get to trace and practice what Jesus does and teaches. You get to follow in His tracks. You may be innocent; you may be insulted. But let no deceit or threats come out of your mouths. Instead, entrust yourselves to the Father who judges justly.

What kind of Shepherd is Jesus? Jesus is the Shepherd, you and I are the sheep. And my, how the sheep love to go astray! “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way” (Is. 53:6). Even as sheep of the Good Shepherd, we go astray every day and in many ways—especially in not wanting to trace the footsteps of our Good Shepherd.

But He is still your Shepherd. He still gathers and leads you as His flock, even when we cannot gather together ourselves. Let that comfort and strengthen you! Jesus tells you today, “I Myself will be the shepherd of My sheep, and I Myself will make them lie down…. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice” (Ezek. 34:15-16). When you wander—and you do; I do; everyone does!—Good Shepherd Jesus seeks you out and brings you back to Himself. You can be certain of that. When you are broken and injured by your sins and sufferings, Good Shepherd Jesus binds you up and strengthens you. Let this comfort you: you have a Shepherd, an Overseer of your soul and life. His name is Jesus, the Son of God.

What kind of Shepherd is Jesus? He is “the Good Shepherd” who “gives His life for the sheep.” He trampled down death and conquered it by His own death. He fends off sin, death, and hell. He defends you against the wolves of insults and persecutions, of doubts and trials. Yes, we sheep may be powerless and helpless, but our Shepherd is not. He is our Strength and our Shield.

What kind of Shepherd is Jesus? He is the Good, True, Beautiful, Noble Shepherd who leads His flock with His voice. His voice calls you by name in your Baptism. His voice speaks words of Absolution through the pastor’s lips. No, this is not an imagined voice. You can’t just sit at home and pretend or presume that Jesus is speaking to you. No, His voice is heard in His words read, proclaimed, sung, and spoken into your ears. When you hear the words “I forgive you your sins,” Good Shepherd Jesus is speaking; it’s His voice. And your Good, True, Beautiful Shepherd prepares a Table before you in the presence of your enemies. It’s the Table of His Body and Blood. In His meal of life, He strengthens you with His very own goodness and mercy. And if you are hungering and thirsting for His meal of life, please let me know. We can make an appointment.

May God grant us His grace to help us follow where our Good Shepherd leads—in the footprints of His suffering and in the life of His tender care and bountiful mercy. The Lord is your Shepherd, you shall not want. By His grace and mercy, you will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.

19 April 2020

Homily for Easter 2 (Quasimodo Geniti) - 2020

"Peace in Forgiveness"
John 20:19-31

Listen here.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! The Easter celebration continues for a whole week of Sundays. The color on the altar remains white. Easter joy continues. In fact, here is an amazing thing. We actually have the exact same number of worshipers in church this week, the Sunday after Easter, as we did last week, on Easter Sunday itself! Has that ever happened before? Wait! I see three more than last week. Oh, it’s just pictures of them. I guess they just wanted to be here so badly—in picture if not in body!

Perhaps Easter, though, seems distant in our minds. We are frightened. We are agitated. Last Sunday—Easter Sunday—multiple tornadoes hit several southern states, bringing death and destruction. Coronavirus continues to disrupt our lives. And local leaders have now extended lockdown orders “indefinitely.” On a good day, the 24/7 news cycle easily distracts us from Easter and the resurrection, but now that news cycle is all COVID, all the time. We are locked in our homes and stripped of our liberties for fear of a disease.

We really need today’s message from God! The disciples were frightened and agitated. So are we. They needed peace. So do we. They needed Jesus Christ and His new life in the forgiveness of sins. And so do we. Our risen Lord Jesus delivers His new life of peace through the forgiveness of sins.

On that first Easter Sunday, the disciples were huddled together, cowering in a room. The Jewish leaders had taken their Teacher and killed Him. The disciples feared they would be next. Not only that, but these same disciples had run away from Jesus when He was arrested. Hence the fear. But then Jesus came to His disciples. Somehow Jesus entered through the doors, even though they remained shut and locked. Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” Perhaps they expected a rebuke for deserting Him in His hour of deepest need. Nope! Jesus doesn’t work that way. Jesus forgives. “Peace be with you,” He told them. It was not a wish. It was not a figurative way of speaking. It was a blessing and a gift. Jesus’ words accomplish and deliver what they say. Jesus delivered His cross-won peace to them.

But still, we are so like those disciples – frightened and agitated. Perhaps we are frightened by the joblessness, the economic shutdown and the infringing on liberties. Perhaps we are agitated by tensions with far off lands. And those irksome illnesses and dreaded diseases! Such things remind us just how fragile life is in this world plagued by death. And when we look in the mirror, we are reminded just how frail and fragile we are.

What else might frighten us? Each of us would have a different laundry list of fears. The better question is this: Why are we afraid? The Christian writer Oswald Chambers once said: “If you fear God, you will fear nothing else. If you do not fear God, you will fear everything else.” Why are we frightened and agitated? It’s quite simple: because we don’t fear and trust the God who loves us and wants us to enjoy life with Him.

Perhaps we fear the false god of pleasure. We think everything in life is about smooth sailing, feeling good and having fun. Perhaps we fear the false god of wealth. We think money is simply for us to use for private, personal enjoyment. Perhaps we fear the false god called “Self.” We like to depend on “Self” for anything and everything, including matters of faith. Perhaps we picture God as a stern father whom we must butter up in order to get on His good side. And if this picture won’t do, then perhaps we picture God as a drill sergeant who barks orders and expects us to carry them out like obedient little soldiers. And so we may try to rely on ourselves to make God happy with us and love us.

In all of this we are denying the risen Christ. It’s as if we are running away from Him, just as the disciples did when He was arrested. It’s no wonder, then, that we are frightened and agitated. We’ve taken our eyes off of the Savior who loves us by dying and rising for us.

Jesus knows the fear. He saw it in His disciples that first Easter evening. And He tells you the same thing He told them: “Peace be with you.” He gives you His peace—not commands, not orders, not guilt trips, but peace. And notice where His peace comes from: He showed them His hands and His side. His peace flows out of His wounds. His suffering was not in vain. His death means your life. His wounds are the fountainhead and wellspring of peace and joy for you. Then Jesus talks about Holy Absolution: If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven.

Our risen Savior Jesus forgives and calms your fears. He forgives your lack of trust in Him. He says, “You don’t need to fret over the state of the world. I have all things under My control.” He says, “You don’t need to wring your hands over money. I always provide for you.” He says, “You don’t need to despair when you face the diseases. I bring your best healing.” The best way to overcome the fears and agitation is to fix your eyes of faith on Jesus the risen Savior. After all, He gives peace with God, and His peace comes in the forgiveness of sins.

When Jesus breathed on His disciples, He gave them the Holy Spirit. He gave them His life with God. It was a replay of the Garden of Eden. There God took a lifeless lump of clay, moulded it into a human body, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and Adam became a living being (Gen. 2:7). Jesus giving the Spirit was the fulfillment of Ezekiel’s vision of a valley full of dry, dead bones. God made the lifeless bones come together. He put muscles, tendons and skin on them, but they were still lifeless. Then God’s Spirit—God’s Breath—breathed life into them. God also breathes life into our lifeless bodies and souls. It’s called the forgiveness of our sins, our very breath of life.

So as we continue the Easter celebration, we get to enjoy the real, sacramental ways in which our risen Lord comes to give His peace and forgiveness. In our second reading, the Apostle John talks about overcoming the world by believing in Jesus Christ the Son of God. Then he says, “This is He who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not by the water only but by the water and the blood.” Our risen Savior still comes by the water of Baptism and the blood of His Supper. And what does He bring when He comes? Peace and forgiveness that overcome our worldly fear – peace and forgiveness with God, and peace and forgiveness with each other. And let’s not forget the precious Sacrament that Jesus Himself institutes in our Gospel: the Sacrament of Absolution. “If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld.” Our risen Lord gives His Church—His Christians—the authority to forgive sins. He wants us to speak His words of forgiveness and life and thus speak peace to one another.

So take heart! The peace that Jesus breathes out to us in the Gospel does comfort and console. The forgiveness that He delivers in Baptism, Absolution, and Communion does restore hope and renew purpose. “Everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world,” St. John boldly says. “And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.” Yes, worldly concerns of disease and economy have hit hard. But our risen Savior has won the victory. We may trust Him—and His peace in forgiveness—to console and comfort, to sustain and direct us.

What makes all of this possible? The very peace and forgiveness that flow from the wounds of the risen Christ. As Jesus told His disciples, “Peace be with you.” Amen.

12 April 2020

Homily for the Resurrection of Our Lord (2020)

You Cannot Ruin Easter!
Mark 16:1-8

Listen here.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

You cannot ruin Easter! You cannot cancel it. You cannot put it on pause, mute it, or make it stay home. Just as Jesus burst forth from the tomb that first Easter Sunday, Christians will alway find a way to celebrate this soul-healing, life-changing day. And we will always find ways to bring other people into the sheer joy of it all.

A dark shroud of gloom enveloped the two Marys and Salome as they finally left home to perform their act of loving devotion. Their Lord had died. They had to shelter in place on the Sabbath day until Sunday morning before finishing the task of giving Him a proper burial. But what about that huge stone? Who would roll it away? Their gloom of grief was multiplied by their anxiety over the stone. They were afraid they would not be allowed to care for the dead body of their Jesus.

What gloom envelops you? What anxiety has seized you? What fears of late have shackled you?

Then the women noticed the stone had already been rolled away. So they went into the tomb and saw the young man dressed in a white robe. The other gospels use the term “angel,” but Mark says, “young man.” He’s communicating vibrant life, new creation, and hope renewed. Then the young man tells the women, “Do not be alarmed.” There’s good reason not to be alarmed—for them and for you. Not only had the huge stone been mysteriously rolled away. Not only would the young angelic man not harm them. But “Jesus of Nazareth…has risen; He is not here”…in the tomb, that is. The women were invited to “see the place where they laid Him.” No body; just empty grave cloths.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Then the women were instructed to go tell His disciples, especially Peter, that Jesus was alive and He would meet them in Galilee. And as they fled the tomb, trembling and astonishment seized them and they closed their lips. “For they were afraid.” Even after hearing the joyous news that Jesus had risen, even after seeing the evidence of empty grave cloths and empty tomb, they still succumbed to fear. Sounds a bit like the disciples themselves forty days later on the mount of the Ascension. As Matthew tells us, even when they saw Jesus in Galilee, “they worshiped him, but some doubted” (Mt. 28:17).

What are you afraid of? What doubts swirl in your soul even as you worship on this most bizarre Easter? Whatever it is, you cannot ruin Easter.

There’s really only one reason we are celebrating Easter in this unprecedented way, on this day, in this year, separated from each other, not able to be in church together, forced to watch online instead of rejoicing live and in person together. No, it’s not the social spacing. It’s not the city or state stay-at-home orders. It’s not even Coronavirus or COVID-19, believe it or not. On the surface, these are the reasons. But they’re not the ultimate reason. There’s only one reason we’re celebrating Easter in this strange fashion.

It’s the same reason we celebrate it every year. I know, in other years we get to gather together. In other years, we’ve been able to have Easter breakfasts, see each other in brand new, festive Easter clothing. In other years, we’ve been able to sing “At the Lamb’s High Feast We Sing” and then actually get to feast together at the Table of the Lamb’s resurrected Body and Blood.

But not this year, unfortunately. And there’s only one reason for it. That reason is DEATH—the Grim Reaper, the rider on the pale horse in the book of Revelation. He and his buddy Hades “were given authority over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by wild beasts of the earth” (Rev. 6:8). Death just happens to be raging in a novel way right now. But there’s nothing new under the sun. Death has reared its hideous head in many and various ways since the Garden of Eden. It may be your loss of a loved one. It may be your own pending funeral. It may be the black plague of the 1300s or the plagues Luther dealt with in Wittenberg or even our current pandemic.

Because Death is raging, we are growing accustomed to rising death tolls. As of this morning, Death has taken just over 20,000 lives in the U.S. by means of Coronavirus. Worldwide, Death has taken over 108,000. (WHO, CDC).

Death has been quite busy all year in all sorts of ways. Here are some death toll figures thus far in 2020 for the whole world (source: worldometers.info, accessed 4/12/20):
  • Death by Seasonal flu - 136,000
  • Death by Malaria - 275,000
  • Death by Suicide - 300,000
  • Death by Road traffic accidents - 378,000
  • Death by HIV/AIDS - 471,000
  • Alcohol-related deaths - 700,000
  • Deaths caused by smoking - 1,400,000
  • Deaths from cancer - 2,300,000
A LOT of people are dying all around the world just so far this year! And, trust me, Jesus knows a little something about death. He went there. He did that. He spilled His blood and gave up His spirit to forgive you all your sins. And then He burst a gigantic hole in Death’s belly. Now for all who trust Jesus—for you who trust Him—death no longer has dominion over you, just as it has no dominion over Him. (Rom. 6:9).

You cannot ruin Easter. If anything, now is the time for Easter take center stage and brightly shine. Now is the time to trumpet Easter’s joyous message from the housetops and over the internet. (After all, what else to you have to do while you’re hunkering down? :-)

How did St. Paul proclaim it? “Death is swallowed up in victory.” “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” We know the world needs to hear that, especially now! While our eyes, ears, hearts and minds seem to be swallowed up by the current method of Death’s raging, we—you and I, with all the saints around the world—we know better. Death has been conquered. Jesus reigns victorious. “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” You cannot ruin Easter and you certainly cannot make it stay at home.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Jesus’ resurrection in the body means resurrection in the body for you. “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ” (1 Cor. 15:22-23). This is most certainly true no matter the ailment or cause of death. So even when Death rages with a newfound fury, even when death tolls mount, even when everyone around us succumbs to fear and panic, we have hope. We have peace. We have a promise. “For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.”

You cannot ruin Easter. Nor can you push the pause button on it. Do you realize the golden opportunity we in the Church now have? People are dying. The world is consumed with death. And we alone have the only message of life. We may not be able to meet together right now to sing His praises, but our risen Lord still wants to use our lips and tongues to tell the Good News.

Later in Mark 16, after our Gospel reading, Mary Magdalene did go and tell the disciples that Jesus had risen. Then Jesus appeared to two others—the two on the road to Emmaus—and they went and told the rest. Then Jesus appeared to all of them and said, “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved” (Mk. 16:15-16). He takes His frightened little bunch of followers—both in Mark 16 and in the year 2020—and uses them and their voices to bring His healing Gospel to all of creation—to the anxious, to the sick, to the despairing, to the dying, to everyone. What a golden opportunity! What a joyous privilege and honor!

You cannot keep Jesus, the only good man, down. You cannot keep His Christians from speaking, praising and singing His name. You cannot prevent the message of life, now and into eternity, from getting out. You cannot ruin Easter!
“Death’s flood has lost its chill
Since Jesus crossed the river;
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver:
Had Christ, who once was slain,
Not burst His three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain:
But now has Christ arisen, arisen, arisen;
But now has Christ arisen!” (LSB 482:2)
Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!