The "Have to" of Advent - Matthew 16:13-23

In the Name of our Coming Savior
Dear Fellow Pilgrims on the Road towards the Heavenly Jerusalem:
We hear the phrase all the time. It comes suddenly out of the mouths of others, and it comes from our own lips as well. It changes events and puts an end to conversations, to idleness and sleepiness and inattentiveness. "I've got to go."
When was the last time you were right in the middle of something that seemed most important, extremely important, but it was all shut down when someone made the announcement, "I have to go."
It gets us out of jams and it gets us into trouble. It cuts off plans and suddenly puts everything into motion. "I've got to go."
Maybe it's at the whistle of a train, the last call in an airport, the noisy music of a cell phone alarm, a quick glance at a wristwatch. "I've got to go."
Now most of the time, shouting, "I've got to go!" is anything but good news. The flight is leaving, the door is finally closing, the bus is pulling out from its berth, the meeting or class is about to begin. We are fallen human people living in a fallen and lost world. Everything runs by the phrase, "I've got to go. We've got to move. You've got to move."
And what is true for our pitiful, law-driven world is even more true when it comes to the Law of God.
There's an old blues song that just may say it best:
You gotta move / You gotta move
You gotta move, child / You gotta move
Oh, when the Lord gets ready / You gotta move

You may be high / You may be low
You may be rich, child / You may be po'
But when the Lord gets ready / You gotta move
There's no voting when it comes to the Lord saying to any of us: You gotta move. It's time. We can complaint, we can try to bargain, we can try to ignore the time and the announcement and the urgency of the situation, but it is all to no avail. We've got to go.
As we learned in Sunday School, as we learned in Catechism Class, the Ten Commandments are not negotiable. They give a promise to all who would live perfectly under them, and a curse to all who would attempt to live outside of them.
God says, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." And, if we are honest with ourselves, we'll confess the "have to" of God's Law is proper and just, but impossible for any one of us to keep.
The heart we inherited from our first parents is a heart that knows the demands of the Law but can only accuse others and excuse ourselves.
"I've go to go." It plagues us, even in the days leading up to December 25th — it plagues us, especially in the days leading up to December 25th. "I've got to do this. I've got to go and do that. I have to finish this. I have to mail that and show up for this other thing and pay for something else. And I'm sure there are five other things I need to do that I've completely forgotten about.
As we learn from the school of hard knocks, there isn't a lot of forgiveness and grace when it comes to the world's version of dealing with the demands of our life. All the world can tell us when we're under the gun is: "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." "When the world hands you lemons, make lemonade." It's all law and it's all sugar-coated demand and promises that are always conditioned and based on our human performance.
No wonder why the most successful Churches and synagogues and mosques and ashrams are those who dispense "ten ways you can make God smile," "forty ways to clean up your spiritual life," "twelve steps you can do to straighten yourself out." It's all law and its all a crushing burden for people such as you and me; people who are sinful and selfish and weak and fearful — experts at making substitutes for God and excuses why we deserve a break before our Creator and Preserver God.
That's why it's not simply refreshing, but redeeming to come to a season of the church year that should rightly emphasize the death-producing nature of our lives under the weight of "I've got to go." Only in God's Law and Commandments and Instructions and Word do we get to see things clear and straight and up-front and as they really are. No whipping cream around the edges, no blurring of the lines, no cute or well-meaning interpretations. There it is, straight from God through the mouth of his prophets and apostles: "The life of have to go and need to go and must go and do and accomplish and achieve and make something in order for God to be nice to me and smile on me and bless me and take me to heaven is all exposed as futile and one big dead end. Our attempts to earn heaven, to climb into God's good graces are smashed to a thousand little pieces by God's Law. The gates of the heavenly Jerusalem are shut. We are not strong enough to climb over the wall or dig a tunnel underneath or clever enough to pick the lock.
So what is Jesus doing saying to the disciples, "I've got to go."? Has he inadvertently fallen into the same hole we've found ourselves trying to claw ourselves out of? Why is he announcing to his followers, "I've got to go. I can't rest until it's done. I have no choice."?
The opening verses of chapter 16 in Saint Matthew's Gospel account serve as one of two major turning points in the life and ministry of our Savior. One second Peter is led by the Holy Spirit to confess Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, and the next second Jesus begins to unfold for Peter and the Twelve what it means for him to be the Christ. Jesus begins to explain what being God's Anointed is really all about. It's about having to go. It's about needing to accomplish. It's about not resting until it's all finished and done and achieved and put to bed.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Matthew, the sixteenth chapter:
Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” Then he strictly charged the disciples to tell no one that he was the Christ.
From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” (Matthew 16:13-23 ESV)
Wow. The disciples didn't see that coming. The Christ must do what? What about kicking the Romans behinds and ushering in a thousand-year reign of milk and honey and pomegranates and prime rib? What about giving us more rules and commands and edicts that will help us get a leg up on our spiritual condition and make us into better people, a righteous nation?
"I've go to go." Jesus says. That was nothing new for Jesus. He had already said those words in heaven when he looked upon our miserable, pitiful, helpless condition. "There just no way they can ever begin to save themselves. They are lost sheep who love to wander. I must go and be their righteousness, their savior, their deliverer. Father, I must go, to be born as one of them, that I might give myself as a sacrifice for their sin."
Jesus didn't become the Christ because he was strong-armed by his Father in heaven or because he wanted bigger jewels in his heavenly crown. Jesus didn't have to do anything to save us. We were simply getting our just desserts. We knew that and he knew that.
Then what's with all this "have to" talk?
For all those Christians who look to God's sovereignty, divine power and authority to explain the manger, to explain the triumphal entry, to explain the cross, there is no explanation or comfort in why our Lord "had to" be born, had to suffer and die, that he might be resurrected and ascend to heaven.
God's might doesn't give us an answer to why Jesus felt compelled to come and tabernacle among us with human flesh and blood.
It wasn't the great obedience or the great humility of the second person of the Trinity — or some great potential he saw in any of us — that made him to be born in a manger or die a death cultured people refuse to even talk about. It was something completely different and completely unexpected. Something we just can't explain. In the words of the hymn:
By grace God's Son, our only Savior,
Came down to earth to bear our sin.
Was it because of your own merit / That Jesus died your soul to win?
No, it was grace, and grace alone,
That brought Him from His heav'nly throne.
(By Grace I'm Saved LSB 566)
It was his grace and mercy for you and for me and for a whole undeserving world that "made" Jesus set his face as flint towards Jerusalem, to come as a self-giving, self-sacrificing king.
Any one else would have rode into the city and rode into our lives and demanded that we sacrifice for him, that we give our all for God and then, maybe he would reconsider our bleak fate.
This first Sunday in Advent we hear about Jesus' advent — his coming to us — to surrender his life and shed his life-blood for a city of rebels and a nation of transgressors. Advent is not a time that we must or we need to or we have to. It's an end to all of that as we simply receive the One who comes in grace, who's only compulsion is his loving-kindness for me and for you.
The Gospel — the true Gospel — of Jesus Christ is not something that appears in all its heavenly glory and knocks you down and says, "You have to go." The true Gospel of Palm Sunday and Advent and Christmas and Good Friday is the Gospel of Christ and his willingly, freely, just 'cause he wanted to, grace, grace offered to you with nail-pierced hands. "Here," Jesus says, "receive with open hands and open mouth and open heart what I have accomplished and won for you. Salvation, from beginning to end. I give you heaven without price, because I am the price. I am the Lamb of God slain as the price for your forgiveness. I am the One born and placed upon the wood and nails of a manger — that I might be placed upon the wood and nails of your cross."
That's the message of Advent and that's the message of the Gospel and that's the message of the stained glass window behind that altar and that's the message of the crucifix next to the pulpit. Born to save by being your sacrifice for sin.
So much of our life is dictated by the phrase, "I've got to go." Expectant mothers yell it when their water breaks, and the aged whisper it from their death bed despite the pleas of loved ones to stay with them. "I need to go now." But our salvation is not about what we are forced to do. It's all about what Jesus graciously, freely forced himself to do — for your sin and for your salvation. "I must come," the Christ says to you this hour. "I must come and offer you forgiveness won, redemption won, heaven won by my holy, innocent, suffering and death."
May God prepare us for the unexpected "have to" of Christmas: the Christ child, born to freely, graciously give his life for you. We pray:
Almighty Lord, Gracious Father: There's a part of each of us that simply wants to jump into the fun and merry-making of the world's spin on Christmas. Save us from an empty Christmas of have to's and need to's. Come and graciously do what we could never do. Change our hearts, that we might look only to your mercy and what Jesus has accomplished in our place. Prepare us in these days of Advent to hear and take to heart the one message the prophets would have us hear: the Christ born as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, through his life, through his life-blood. In his saving name we pray. Amen

Looking Forward to the Last Day Through the Cross - Luke 23:27-43

In the Name of Jesus

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

The subject of "last things" doesn't come up much in our day-to-day life, even as individual Christians. We find ourselves taken a little off guard whenever we hear our Lord reveal some of the details of that last and fateful day. There's just something about our old nature that keeps the subject at bay, until we have to somehow deal with its unexpected intrusion into our lives: maybe it's a horrific story in the newspaper or on the six o'clock news; the death of a loved one, the sudden threat from a natural catastrophe, friends discussing the latest "end of the world" prediction. We don't want to talk about it, but when we do, all kinds of concerns and questions start coming out.
A recent survey of questions sent in to the denominational headquarters of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod testify to the wide variety of anxieties we have about the Last Day. "Will our spirit be resurrected, or both our spirit and body?" "How many levels of heaven are there, and what level will I attain on the Last Day?" "What will happen to my pet goldfish on the Last Day?" "Are believers asleep until Christ's return?" "What age will those who are resurrected be?" and the infamous, "If believers are raptured on the Last Day, what happens to the passengers on city buses and airplanes piloted by Christians?"
With so many concerns, it is no wonder that from the earliest times, the Christian Church has observed a Church Year that begins with the First Sunday in Advent and concludes 52 weeks later with the Sunday of the Fulfillment: the last word God's redeemed on earth has been given to annually proclaim and sing and confess.
The early Christian Church got into the habit (a good habit) of reminding itself of the Last Day every time believers came together around altar and pulpit, lectern and font, through the liturgy, through the hymns, through the readings and sermon, and, especially, through the Creed and the "Our Father," the Lord's Prayer.
That good tradition is followed today every time we as a congregation confess to God and one another, "I believe in ... the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting."
That's the confession of a God-given faith, in the same way we plead to our merciful God to preserve us and keep us until eternal life when we pray to our father in heaven, "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
In this way we are regularly, weekly, daily being prepared for the Day that will surely come: the great and awesome Day of the Lord, the glorious Day of the Lord of Sabaoth (the heavenly armies), the Final Day of Judgment, the Day of the Fulfillment.
We can doubt about it and we can refuse to believe it, but the final Day will surely come. Nothing can hurry it along; nothing can stop it; nothing can delay it. When the time is just right, God will usher in the Last Day, in order that all things might be fulfilled in his exalted Son.
But, if the Last Day is the Day of the Fulfillment, two questions need to be asked this morning. One you might be asking yourself, another you may not, but both need to be asked and answered. The first: "What will be fulfilled? What actually will be completed?" And, the second question: "Who got the church bulletin covers mixed up? I thought the cover might depict turkey or tinsle, but instead, we got something left over from Good Friday. What's up with that?"
But, the first question first. "What is being fulfilled on the Last Day?"
I use to hear a lot of sermons about the proper object of our faith being two Christ-events: the Crucifixion and Resurrection, and along with it, the Second Coming. "Keep you eyes of faith on both." the pastor would say. Well, I couldn't figure out how to train one of my eyes on the Cross outside of Jerusalem 2,000 years ago, while straining my other eye into the future, on a future event that may happen this afternoon or a few thousand years from now.
Yes, these are the two history-defining events for each of us as Christians. The atonement for each of us and for the whole world at the Cross of Christ, and the fulfillment of our salvation on the Last Day of Christ. But short of employing a complex set of interconnected mirrors and neck stretching exercises, how do we keep our faith, our attention, our focus steadily on both?
The answer was re-discovered and applied to the new three year set of Scripture readings we began to enjoy a year ago as we dedicated our new hymnals. The answer is to be found in our "couldn't-be-more-appropriate for the Last Sunday of the Church Year" Scripture reading from the 23rd chapter of the Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke:
And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at [Jesus], saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”
One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:35-43 ESV)
"Oh." you say. I'm beginning to see the connection now. It's all there at Calvary. It's all there with Christ beginning his reign as King and Lord and Redeemer from, of all places, a cross. Here he holds court in the kingdom of grace and mercy and forgiveness. It is here that the true window into understanding the Last Day is to be found.
In the midst of mocking and jeering and open rebellion against God and his Anointed, the truth is, unknowingly, shouted out from the top of the hill. Jesus — God's Chosen One — cannot save himself, precisely because he is saving others in the offering up of his very life.
In his sacrificial suffering, the punishment that was upon us is taken up by the Lord of the heavenly hosts. In his substitutionary death, the condemnation that justly awaited each of us on the Last Day was taken up by the one who had done nothing wrong: the spotless Lamb of God.
This is the saving work only the King from Heaven could complete. This is the redeeming mission of the Christ, the Messiah, God's Anointed One: to graciously offer the gift of a restored heaven to all who would look to him as the payment for our sin; as the fulfillment of an age of redemption that began with Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel, and will end when the last of God's redeemed children receives by faith the revelation of the prophets and apostles: receives the great Good News that all has been won by Christ on the Cross.
There is a proper way we can (as we should) keep our eyes upon the Christ of the Cross and the Christ who will come again in all glory to end these last days — the last days that began with the advent of Jesus in Bethlehem and Jerusalem two millennia ago. You see, we can only get a proper focus on the Last Day through the one, salvation-defining event of the whole of human history: Christ the verdict-giving King enthroned high and lifted up — between two sinners.
This is the crucial element that is missing from the bulk of any discussions we might have about the Last Day. Outside of the lens of the Cross, any talk of the great and awesome Day of the Lord will bring only fear, excuses, denial or despair.
The Son of God and Mary's Son upon the Cross as your sacrifice and the world's Savior. This is the proper lens through which we read the prophets and apostles. This is the proper measuring stick by which we measure any sermon, hymn, Bible study, devotional or ministry. This is the one key that brings into focus not only the Lord's precious Supper as a "foretaste of the feast to come," but the true meaning and weight and effect of the holy waters of Baptism, as they bind us to Christ's glorious return, and his glorious resurrection from the dead, by binding us to his most holy, innocent, bitter suffering and death.
Christ loved us — and the world — so much that he took upon himself on the Tree the horrors of the fearful Day of Judgment. At Golgotha God reveals what we were freed from on the Last Day, the terrible day of God's judgment and wrath. What is now being bestowed on us in, with, and under the ordinary-looking means of grace (the Holy Bible, Holy Baptism, Holy Communion) will be openly revealed to the entire creation on the Last Day.
Christ paid for all. And for those who believe in Jesus as the Passover Lamb, the Pillar of Fire and the Bronze Serpent in the Wilderness, the fulfillment of all signs and wonders and prophecies and promises of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the great and terrible Day of the Lord has become a day that we no longer fear, but actually look forward to.
Christ's love for all condemned law-breakers freely placed him upon the Cross. Bearing a crown of thorns and the title "King of God's Chosen People" above him, our Lord of the heavenly hosts says to you: "Truly, truly I say to you: in me — baptized into what I have done in your stead — the "verdict" that is yours now, and will be yours on the Day of the final judgment is: beloved and acquitted child of Paradise restored. We pray:
Almighty God, by the death of your Son Jesus Christ you destroyed death; by his rest in the tomb you sanctified the graves of your saints, and by his bodily resurrection you brought life and immortality to light. Receive our thanks for the victory Christ has won for us, bestowed through the holy Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord's Supper and received by the hand of faith. Keep us in everlasting communion with all who wait for his appearing when he comes on the Last Day in all his glory to bring to completion all he has graciously promised his own, for he is the resurrection and the life, even Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen

Blessed for the Sake of the Nations - Psalm 67

Day of National Thanksgiving November 21, 2007

In the Name of Jesus

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

In the words of Matin Luther's great "thanksgiving" hymn:

May God bestow on us His grace, / With blessings rich provide us;
And may the brightness of His face / To life eternal guide us,
That we His saving health may know, / His gracious will and pleasure,
And also to the nations show / Christ's riches without measure
And unto God convert them.
(Martin Luther. May God Bestow on Us His Grace. LSB 823:1)

At this time of year the nation has designated a day of national thanksgiving, with the intent that we, as a nation, would, all together, as a nation, give thanks. That's a pretty big order for a country who's highest virtue is the American "pioneer spirit" — that spirit that champions individual values, individual achievement, and individual choice.
Maybe this is why it has been left up to us as individuals to decide for ourselves how to celebrate the day — which altar to bow before — be it a Christian altar or a self-made altar to ourselves and our fallen desires.
As Americans we like our holidays, as long as we retain the right to observe them the way we want to observe them: the right to decide what we will give thanks for, and the right to decide whom we will give thanks to.
In our day, the only necessary elements everyone agrees on when it comes to observing this national day of thanksgiving are the following: one turkey, a tray of snacks and beverages for the televised sports, and a handful of credit cards for the advertised sales.
Reminiscent of the Latin phrase pan-em et cir-censes (bread and circuses) — that ancient critique of a citizenry that forfeited the higher things of life for a shallow and self-absorbed life — so we today are tempted to turn a national day of thanksgiving into a day of too much food and too much entertainment and too much "us" — and too little faith-produced praise for what the faith-less world will never see and give thanks for: God's hidden harvest through Christ and his Word.
Nevertheless, God has graciously brought us into his house this hour to observe this national day of thanksgiving in a manner that not only pleases him and blesses us, but also blesses this nation and the entire world.

O come, let us sing to the Lord,
Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving,
Let us make a joyful noise to Him with songs of praise.
(Venite Lutheran Service Book 220-21)

God deserves our thanksgiving. National leaders such as George Washington and Abraham Lincoln acknowledged that fact and took steps to institutionalize it. But laws and directives and observances — from the government or religious organizations — are powerless to make anyone truly thankful. There is no government fine for being unappreciative; no one is going to be put in jail for failing to give thanks today. This fourth Thursday of November is set aside to merely do what it can do, give people an opportunity to express any gratitude they might have to the one they believe most properly deserves it. But, still, the call goes forth:

O come, let us sing to the Lord,
Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.
For the Lord is a great God
And a great king above all gods,
The deep places of the earth are in his hand;
The strength of the hills is his also.
O come, let us worship and bow down,
Let us kneel before the Lord our maker. (Venite Lutheran Service Book 220-21)

But, although we annually enjoy a special day for the purpose of giving thanks, and we are directed by those in authority to "be thankful," God's Word — God's Law — announces the devastating reality of our fallen human condition: outside of Christ and true faith in his redeeming work, we are unable to produce any true thankfulness to the One who deserves our constant praise and gratitude. Outside of Christ, our attempts to look thankful, our attempts to express thanks, are always tainted and soiled and spoiled with sin.
The despair that accompanies a day of thanksgiving is the despair of a God-wrought awareness that we, as fallen, sinful and rebellious creatures, are incapable of the thanksgiving properly due our almighty Creator. The despair is the same expressed by the prophet Isaiah when brought into the holy presence of the Lord of earth and heaven.

In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said:

“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory!”

And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!”
       (Isaiah 6:1-5 ESV)

Isaiah knew his sins and he knew his sinfulness. All he could properly do is fall down before the Almighty, confess his poor, miserable condition, looking to God's abundant mercy for rescue.
This hour God calls us to be truly thankful, to express with all sincerity our heart-felt appreciation to him for the unmerited gifts given by his gracious hand, as he works through his created world and especially our own neighbor. But first we confess our needy, helpless, desperate situation: we are found by the maker of all things to be people of unclean lips and citizens of a nation — and a world — of ungrateful hearts. We join Saint Paul in crying out,

"Who will save me from this body of sin and inability to give thanks to God as I ought?"

Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:25 ESV)

In Christ, the great penalty for our unthankfulness has been paid; in Christ, a great atonement has been made —
for the judgment of ingratitude that fell upon us and the world.
For all the times I have been found ungrateful for the blessings God has freely given; for all the times we have been found taking for granted the gifts of life and the gift of eternal life in God's Son; for all the times we refused to express the thanks due God and those he gives his blessings through — the Lord of Hosts has provided a forgiveness and peace that alone can willingly give God his due.
Through his Son and only through his Son true, God-pleasing, God-accepted praise and thanks is to be found — for us and for the world.
Jesus is the Great High Priest through whom our prayers and praise rise before the Lord upon his throne. Being found in him, being baptized into him, we find ourselves freely acknowledging the greatness and grace of the Almighty. In Jesus we can gladly respond to the psalmist's invitation:

O come, let us sing to the Lord,
Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.
For He is our God,
And we are the people of His pasture
and the sheep of His hand. (Venite Lutheran Service Book 220-21)

It is a sad reality that not all those who mouth the words, "Thank God" will be heard by the One who dwells above the seraphim. Only in our Savior can any of our poor and wretched prayers of praise make their way to heaven. And in our Savior, we come to realize that we have been blessed, not only for our own sake but for the sake of the nations.
You see, the rain falls on those with saving faith and those without saving faith without distinction; the earth yields its harvest in season for all fallen children of our first fallen parents. God continues to curb chaos and violence and evil, not only in the lives of those who put their faith in his Son, but for the sake of the nations — for the sake of the salvation of the nations.
God keeps evil at bay, that the rain of his holy and gracious Word might come and water the earth. The seed of the Gospel is recklessly sown to the four corners of the world, that an abundant harvest of people from every tribe and nation and race and language might give their thanks for the sacrifice of his Son on their behalf — now, here and in eternity.
God has not called us to be simply happy, clappy people who throw out a word of thanks around the turkey table once a year. The Lord of heaven and earth has called us to be what we, outside of Christ and his Spirit, could never be: truly thankful people who acknowledge all good things from our Lord's merciful hand: the blessings of this life and the greater blessings of heaven — not only for us, but for those who were brought to faith before us, and for those around the world who have yet to be redeemed by Christ's blessed Gospel.
In the closing words of Luther's hymn of praise:

Thine over all shall be / The praise and thanks of every nation;
And all the world with joy / Shall raise the voice of exultation.
For thou shalt judge the earth, O Lord, / Nor suffer sin to flourish;
Thy people's pasture is Thy Word / Their souls to feed and nourish,
In righteous paths to keep them.

O let the people praise / Thy worth, In all good works increasing;
The land shall plenteous fruit bring forth, / Thy Word is rich in blessing.
May God the Father, God the Son, and God the Spirit bless us!
Let all the world praise Him alone, / Let solemn awe possess us.
(Martin Luther. May God Bestow on Us His Grace. LSB 823:3)

This day, let us give thanks that in Christ we are God's thankful people.

In the Name of Jesus. Amen

"The True Temple and Glory and Light of the Church." Luke 21:5-6

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters Rescued and Redeemed by Christ:
A few Sundays ago we pulled out all the stops as we celebrated our history as the church of the Lutheran Reformation. We gloried in our heritage as children of a movement within the western church that re-discovered what the real glory of the church was, and continues to be: the glory of the grace of God revealed in Christ and his Cross and offered freely to a world that just can't bring itself to believe that salvation won is distributed with simple water, bread and wine.
But, as we heard last week, the time is later than we might think. The last Sundays of the Church Year call each of us to soberly assess the time and seasons of this age, and guided by Christ and his mighty Word, see with the eyes of faith who we were without him, what we have become in him, and what we have been called to glory in.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twenty-first chapter:
And while some were speaking of the temple, how it was adorned with noble stones and offerings, [Jesus] said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” (Luke 21:5-6 ESV)
Jesus shuts the mouths of disciples drooling over the golden glory of the Jerusalem Temple as he rescues them from being drawn into placing their faith in having a great Temple of stone and silver as their salvation. Like so many other signs given to prepare God's people for the real thing to later be revealed, what rightly pointed to its own fulfillment in Christ had become an idol, an ends unto itself, a talisman, a magic amulet that, by its very presence, guarantees heaven.
But before we too quickly jump onto the bash-those-who-should-have-known-better bandwagon, we must examine our own faulty motives and failings at recognizing the true Temple when he appears before us. Have we too passed by the Temple not made with human hands in a race to preserve what we have built for ourselves? Have we succumbed to the temptation that the light of the Church is our own human glory?
With these words our Lord exposes all empty and sinful trust in salvation based on anything other than his unmerited grace. He diagnoses the desire of our old nature to preserve our own religiosity and spiritual pride, that we might repent of our sins, and receive him as our eternal Temple and Priest and Deliverer.
Here, Jesus completes his ministry in Jerusalem in the same way he began it: pointing to himself as the true Redeemer who rescues all who, repenting of their sins, look to him for help.

Once upon a time there was a small and sleepy village nestled around the quiet, rolling hills and dunes of a cove that looked out on the ocean waves breaking onto the beach. The people of the little community enjoyed their carefree neighborhood gatherings and the glories of their seasonal festivals, the abundance of their village dinners and the little pleasures of their six meals a day.
The people of the village lived their "as comfortable as can be" lifestyle, devoting their spare time to new and interesting hobbies, and the preservation of their heritage as a well-to-do, yet modest society. They became more and more famous for the beauty of the cove and the rocks that jutted out just beyond the harbor. Artists would make special trips to come and paint and sketch the unique coastline and the gulls who would rest on the rock formations just outside the bay.
Everything seemed right with the world, until, one night, the entire village was awakened with the sound of driving wind and pounding rain and the distant cries of voices from children and adults they had never previously heard. By the illumination from lightning flashes in the distance they followed the pleas for help to the shore of the cove. Already large broken beams from a ship were beginning to wash up onto the beach.
"Help us!" cried a man who, suffering from a broken arm, was struggling to pull an unconscious woman out of the surf with his other hand. The heads of others could be seen farther out in the water, some crying for mercy, other silent.
The people of the village were immobilized by the shock and fear of what they saw before them, a great ship ravaged by the rocks and its human cargo in danger of quickly perishing. And then they were even more dumbfounded by the strange appearance of a man who instinctively risked everything to rally the villagers as he pressed ahead to deliver the helpless from the dark and raging waters.
Some standing there were encouraged by the voice of this unnamed rescuer and engaged the surf. Some swam out to retrieve the injured, others brought out their frail fishing boats to venture out into the stormy waves.
Many were rescued, some we lost — from the ship and from the village, but the sleepy town was not the same after that night. They pleaded for the man to stay in the village as long as he was able, to lead cottage meetings to plan a lighthouse that would warn incoming vessels of the dangers just outside the harbor. Teams were formed that began construction on solid rescue boats and the training of the younger adults on how to row out and rescue wounded and drowning victims. Older adults constructed a make-shift hut for conducting drills and crafting rescue gear and for the shelter and care of the injured survivors. While some of the villagers went back to their comfortable and predictable life after a few months, many continued to trust in this sojourner who brought with his words a new ability to serve under him in the care of others.
But time went on and the words of the sojourner were taken less and less to heart. The hut was replaced by a more permanent and elegant building. Rain and rescue gear slowly became more ceremonial than practical. The charts detailing the procedures and priorities for rescuing those in peril were slowly replaced with gilded frames and photos of the glories of the past. Older rescue workers began flaunting their medals as their stories of that first fateful night became more and more fanciful. The lighthouse was attended to less and less, until the town couldn't remember how to keep the beacon lit.
The true mission of the rescue station was all but forgotten and although the village continued its rescue festivals and extravagant reenactments of that historic night, their love for the lost and preparations for the injured was shameful the next time they were suddenly called on to respond to those whose very lives were hanging in the balance.
The field hospital became, after only a few years, a museum and social hall; and those the sojourner had trained to be medics slowly fell into the practice of merely giving speeches at Sunday brunches and guest appearances as callers at square dances.

The visible Christian Church today often looks more like the Church of Rome before the Reformation: more a religious performing arts center than a place where people are called to receive spiritual rescue and healing and wholeness for their souls from the one, true Savior and divine Deliverer.
In the days of the Prophets, in the days of Jesus, in these last days, generations who were rescued from the cold and deadly waters of believing that salvation was to be earned by good works; generations who were graciously spared from drowning in the empty promises of the world's religions; generations who were graciously brought to the Great Physician and healed by nail-pierced hands and a heart of mercy and forgiveness have succumbed to the temptations of trading in their calling and faith for a chance at being included in a village parade or making it on the six o'clock news.
Christ has come and won salvation for not only our little village but for all who are being pulled to the bottom of the watery depths of sin and eternal death.
Our sin is the sin of every village which has been graced with the presence of the Carpenter's Son from Nazareth: we are found to have fallen for the temptation of preserving our own prestige and the importance of what we have built with our hands while neglecting the one thing that defines us and redeems us and preserves us to eternal life: the Word and Work of Christ in our place.
May the God of Noah and his children rescue us from the temptation of believing we have been called to preserve our own name and comforts, that we, by his grace, might serve our Savior as he delivers those who are sinking into the icy depths of spiritual despair by his strong arm and redeeming voice — by his Word and font and table.
God have mercy on us, forgive us and preserve among us the one thing that will not pass away on the Last Day — the one object of true, saving faith — Christ our glory; Christ our temple; Christ our light; Christ our rescue and reward.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

"The Eleventh Hour." Luke 20:27-40

In the Name of Jesus
Dearly beloved, baptized into the very resurrection of Christ our Bridegroom:

It is the eleventh hour. On this Lord's Day, the eleventh of November, God gathers his own to speak his name over us, to assure us that in Baptism our sin has been drowned in the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son and — that by his grace — a new nature has been created by his Word and Spirit. By faith in the promises of Christ our Redeemer, we are God's own dear children, even in these last days, these last hours before he sends his Son in all glory to end this age of separation and suffering, this age of war and rumor of war, this age of a world gone terribly, terribly bad and a humanity that will do nothing but interrogate Christ and refuse to believe his unexpected way of saving us.
And so it is appropriate on this, the third-last Sunday of the Church Year that we hear and read and take to heart the things of the last days, as we wait for the advent — the coming — the final appearance — of our salvation.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twentieth chapter:
There came to him some Sadducees (those who deny that there is a resurrection) and they asked him a question, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, having a wife but no children, the man must take the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. Now there were seven brothers. The first took a wife, and died without children. And the second and the third took her, and likewise all seven left no children and died. Afterward the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had her as wife.” (Luke 20:27-33 ESV)
The occasion: the last days of Jesus' public ministry. The place: the temple grounds in the holy city of Jerusalem. The participants: the Pharisees and Jesus' disciples listening in as the Saducees have their turn at gathering evidence to later be used against this self-proclaimed prophet from Nazareth.
The situation concocted by the Sadducees is almost comical in its improbability. One wife married eight times and widowed eight times, all without resulting children. "In the resurrection," the Saducees ask, "whose wife will she be?" This question from a group of religious leaders who openly denied belief in any resurrection from the dead; this question from a group of religious leaders who had no desire to be students of this tradition-breaking, crowd-pleasing miracle worker.
The battle lines are set as everyone waits to see if Jesus will say anything that can later be used to convict him of blasphemy against God, the holy prophet Moses and his five holy books.
What will Jesus say about the last things when it comes to marriage and children and family obligation to continue the family name? What will Jesus say about the last things of life and what awaits after death?
And Jesus said to them, “The sons of this [present] age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised — even Moses showed, in the passage about the bush, where he [says,] the Lord the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob. Now he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live [in] him.” Then some of the scribes answered, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” For they no longer dared to ask him any question. (Luke 20:34-40 ESV)
As is his custom, Jesus goes to the point of the matter, acknowledging himself as not only the Teacher of Israel but the last word when it comes to Moses and the inspired writings of Moses.
You see, Jesus accepts even from unbelieving Sadducees the title Rabbi, Teacher, and begins to teach all who would listen to him. Jesus teaches a clear word of Law to sinners who are unrepentant and rebellious and unbelieving, in order that he might then teach a clear word of Gospel (unmerited grace and undeserved gift) to sinners who have become broken and contrite and repentant.
"Marriage is a present-age shadow of something that will be fulfilled at the end of this age," Jesus is saying. "It is a lesser institution that has something greater, something heavenly as its fulfillment. Marriage and the demands of marital obligations are for the fallen sons and daughters of a fallen world. The demands to continue the family line are for the wilderness journey of this life outside the gates of paradise — this life continually threatened by rebellion against God's Word and the forging of idols to receive the devotion and allegiance reserved for God alone. Marriage will give way on the last day to what it has actually pointed to all along," Jesus declares.
Here Jesus shows that he is Lord of the Old Testament prophets and even the Spirit-inspired Word of the Old Testament prophets. For Saducees who feebly attempt to judge Jesus by Moses, Jesus has something to say, something definite, something that will shut mouths, something said with an authority greater than even great Moses. Here Jesus says the last word on last things and their relationship to marriage and the future of family and the outcome of everything dying and fading away.
Our Lord announces something we should have realized a long time ago: the institution of marriage is a temporary marker, a road sign, a pointer that will, finally, give way to the eternal thing it points to, its fulfillment, its perfection, its terminus — its consummation. This biblical understanding is echoed at every wedding performed in this sanctuary as the pastor announces at the beginning of the ceremony:
We are gathered here in the sight of God and of his Church to witness and to bless the joining together of this man and this woman in holy marriage. This is an honorable estate, which God himself has instituted and blessed, and by which he gives a picture [a foreshadowing] of the very communion of Christ and his bride, the Church. (Lutheran Worship Agenda 120)
The last word on marriage is the last day consummation of the wedding of the crucified, risen and ascended Lord and his bride the Church. The obligations and demands and laws and impositions of extending and continuing the family name find their completion in the vow of our Bridegroom.
For you see, even though God has demanded that we provide a son to continue the family name, we are powerless to carry out our duty. Born with weak intentions and the complete inability to carry out God's holy and perfect will, we cannot provide a son to continue the family line, to continue our legacy, to continue our life in this world, not to mention the next. Outside of Christ, we find ourselves spiritually impotent and barren and under the crushing verdict of a divine Law that declares: "Only those who are found righteous will be worthy of the title "Child of the Resurrection," "Child of God."
It is the only-begotten Son of God and Mary's son who knows the slavery of our sin in the same way that he knew the slavery of his children under the crushing hand of Pharaoh. For those who could not rescue themselves, for those who were bound to the deadly consequences of their sin, Christ came and, through his servant Moses, spoke a word, and pointing to his sacrifice and the shedding of his blood, delivered his people that they might be his bride, washed in his righteousness and cleansed for the eternal marriage feast.
To all who refuse to believe in the possibility of a resurrection of those declared righteous before almighty God, to all who have given up on climbing a self-constructed ladder into the eternal wedding chamber, to all who have been driven to despair of extending the family line of our first parents, to all who haven't a shred of righteousness of their own that the family name might be redeemed, Our Lord Christ has a gracious invitation, a word of sweetest comfort, a promise that seems too gracious to be true.
He is the messenger that speaks salvation to Moses from the burning bush. He is the Bridegroom who will buy back his enslaved bride with his sacrificial death and resurrection from the dead. He will be for you and me Righteousness and Life and the final Word at the end of this age — on the last day when he will take us, and all who have put their trust in him, to himself.
It is the eleventh hour. And Christ's coming is as sure as his coming at Bethlehem, his coming at your Baptism, his coming in the Word of the prophets and apostles, his coming at his holy Table, the foretaste of the wedding feast to come.
God in Christ through the Holy Spirit has placed his redeeming name upon you. He has sealed you as his child and heir. You are his and he is yours. And he will, on the last day, take you to himself.
God grant us the faith to believe in Christ as our Resurrection and our Life, as we say with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, "Amen. Even so, come Lord Jesus, come, and raise us to eternal life."

The Beatitudes - How Do You Read Them? Matthew 5:1-12 (All Saints Sunday)

The paraments have changed from the red of fire and the Spirit to the white of heaven's purity and brilliance. Eight days ago we celebrated God's grace evident in the reformation of the western Church and the re-discovery of the Gospel – the Gospel that proclaims the freely-offered gifts of Christ won upon the Cross, offered in the Word through prophets and apostles, the Word through water, the Word through bread and wine, and received by the empty hand of faith.
This Sunday is another special festival in the Church Year. Special prayers, special hymns, special Scripture readings that give opportunity to remember God's saints, honor God's saints, and, while giving thanks to God for preserving them, we again are assured that we too bear what the world thinks an unlikely title: God's blessed saint in Christ Jesus. This morning, as the hymn says:

We sing for all the unsung saints, / That countless, nameless throng,
Who kept the faith and passed it on / With hope steadfast and strong
Through all the daily griefs and joys / No chronicles record,
Forgetful of their lack of fame, / But mindful of their Lord.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Brothers and Sisters Made Saints in Christ:
Who are the saints? For those outside the church, the saints could be a number of people: Those who do good deeds, those who have never uttered a swear word when they stubbed their toe or slammed the car door on a finger. Those who always did what their parents and teachers told them to do.
And religious people have their answers too. The saints are those who enjoy a special relationship with God and are available to us to soften him up or make a request on our behalf. The saints are the super-Christians who effortlessly skated through life and racked up surplus merits that can be applied to erase the sins of others. Saints are those whose images are purchased to be hung on a wall or rear-view mirror in order to ward off tragedy or sickness.
But contrary to popular belief, God's true saints are not those who have a positive balance in their good works bank account in heaven. God's true saints are not those who have more than three documented miracles to their credit.
You see, the world, and the world's brand of religion is pretty stingy when it comes to making someone a saint. Not everyone is given that title by the world we live in. Only a handful get a bridge or an airport named after them.
But the God of the Old and New Testament, the God of the prophets of Israel and the apostles of the Church is a very different God than what the world, the devil or our old nature would believe. When it comes to bestowing the title of "saint," heaven sees things in a way we would have never imagined.
The Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew, the fifth chapter:
Seeing the crowds, [Jesus] went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matthew 5:1-12)
These are the words that introduce Jesus' great sermon on the mount, the most quoted piece of Scripture in the writings of the early Christian church. These are the words that set the stage for a proper understanding of not only the fifth and sixth and seventh chapter of the Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew, but for a proper understanding of how salvation is truly won, offered, received and preserved among us. In short, these verses in the Gospel of Matthew serve as an entrance door for all who would bear the title "saint."
For this passage — commonly referred to as "the Beatitudes" — is not merely a jazzed-up version of the Ten Commandments. In the same way, the Jesus revealed to us — and to all who would be his disciples — is not merely a jazzed-up Moses laying down a set of even higher hoops for us to jump through in order to earn sainthood.
The world will never believe it, the devil will continue working hard to obscure and twist it, our old nature will daily doubt it, but these words of Jesus are something very different than "what we must do in order to become saints, blessed by God and rewarded by Christ and extolled by the world. These words are pure promise, pure grace, pure Gospel, a description of every single Christian who has received Christ and his benefits by faith.
You see, Moses went up on the mountain on behalf of a people who dared not approach God and receive his Word directly from his mouth. And if Mount Sinai and Moses and the Ten Commandments taught the children of Israel anything, they revealed that the climb up into God's presence was one that, since the fall in the garden, could only lead to false human pride and the deadly consequences of not being able to measure up to God's holy and perfect will. A fallen humanity could not carry out the good it had been called to do. A sinful and rebellious humanity could not even begin to be what it had been called to be: wholly-trusting recipients of God's abundant grace and eternal loving-kindness.
How do you read these "Beatitudes"? How do you understand this entrance door through which the whole of the Beatitudes — the whole of the Sermon on the Mount — is to be received? What is Jesus teaching and announcing here?
First and foremost, Jesus announces these words deliberatively and authoritatively. The crowds soon recognize that Jesus proclaims the Word with authority, even though the have not put their faith in him. "This Jesus speaks as one who has authority!" they exclaim. And so it is. Saint Matthew's Gospel account ends with Jesus confirming what we and the world secretly suspected all along, as he openly proclaims, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me."
But Jesus has been given power and authority to accomplish something very specific: to rule his dear flock in mercy and grace, securing our forgiveness and gifting all who would confess their sins with the title "Blessed," "Saint," "Redeemed."
Only in the Triune God does the Word announced carry with it what it promises, and this is how we must receive the words of the Beatitudes. Jesus is not encouraging us with these words. He is not telling his disciples — those who would follow their Lord in faith — and the crowds who are also listening in — "If you go around stopping fights, if you make yourself financially destitute, if you keep yourself from merry-making, if you let others beat you up, if you purify your heart, then I will reward you with the status of being blessed."
Jesus, in these Beatitudes is announcing something that takes our breath away and makes our old nature wag its head in disbelief and ridicule. Our Savior announces to his own that they are blessed — here and now — not according to what they have done or have not done, but by reason of their being — here and now — in Christ, in union with him, connected with him through the Spirit and the Word and the water of the entrance door into sainthood, into blessedness, into being a dear child of God through the one who has been given all authority to declare: because of my grace, because of my mercy, because of my forgiving heart, your sins are washed away. I have taken them, and, in exchange, I declare you blessed before my Father in heaven."
It is Christ and his Word that gives us the ability to see ourselves as spiritually poor, with nothing to offer him that would merit being a blessed saint of God. It is being in Christ that we first learn that we are — before God — simply poor, miserable, helpless, needy sinners.
And it is in Christ that we are the blessed, comforted, forgiven people of God, in spite of the fact that, in this world, we continue to hunger and thirst for our Lord's word of forgiveness, his feeding us with — of all things — himself.
In Christ, today, you are blessed. In him you have been given the kingdom of heaven. In the Lamb who once was slain you have not only been given the ability to mourn over your sins and the sins of the world, but you are comforted by the promise that the Cross of the great Redeemer is for you. In Jesus we confess our lowly condition before the throne of God, and in him we are blessed with the announcement that through Baptism we are heirs of the promised land.
In Christ, today, we hunger and thirst for the righteousness we could never produce, the perfect righteousness that only Jesus can win and cover us with. And as we confess in our Lord's "Our Father," Christ's mercy and forgiveness is so great that it spills over into the lives of our neighbor as we find ourselves reflecting the mercy we first were shown in forgiving even those who sin against us.
In Christ — this morning — you are blessed, you are God's blessed saint. Through God's Spirit and Word a new heart has been created within you, a heart that is pure and desires nothing more than to give glory to God and serve him by serving those around us. And through the blessed Sacrament, we are strengthened as Christ's saints — his priests, offering the world the eternal Word of peace: the Gospel of the glory and grace of God.
The blessed Beatitudes point to our blessed Savior and his blessed gifts, gifts for needy sinners, gifts for those brought to confess that they are poor, helpless, undeserving. Again, the hymn:

Though uninscribed with date or place, / With title, rank or name,
As living stones their stories join / To form a hallowed frame
Around the mystery in their midst: / The Lamb once sacrificed,
The Love that wrestles life from death, / The wounded, risen Christ.

In Christ you have been given promises that will be revealed and brought to their fulness on the Last Day. But — being found in Christ — being found in the Lamb — even now, you have been marked with the cross and given the status of God's dear saint, God's own blessed child.
Your name is not written on a calendar or a coin, your name is not written on a street or a postage stamp, a building or a boat. Your name is written in the Book of Life. Because of Christ, his sacrifice in your stead, his gift of water and bread and wine and faith, you are a sinner, declared righteous before God.
A blessed All Saints Day to you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

"Treasure the Treasure." (2Timothy 1:1-14)

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Beloved brothers and sisters called to a life of faith and love in our Savior:
Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
God has called us to be his holy people. The Creator of heaven and earth has, in Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit, called us by the Gospel, enlightened us with his gifts, revealing the mystery hidden before the ages began, the revelation of our Savior come in the flesh to overcome the sharpness of death and open the kingdom of heaven to all believers. In this Gospel, in this Salvation, in this Christ and Cross we put our faith, and by the grace of God we keep and ever hold fast the precious treasure entrusted to us — for our salvation and the salvation of those around us and the salvation of those who will come after us.
This morning we hear from Saint Paul's Second Epistle to Saint Timothy; the inspired Word of the Lord from a faithful, loving apostle to his beloved child in the faith as he nears the finish line he so longed to cross in order to receive his Lord's commendation, "Well done, good and faithful servant, pastor, apostle, teacher, under-shepherd."
Any cursory reading of the apostle's ministry shows the extent to which he had suffered. Paul had been beaten with rods, stoned and left for dead, shipwrecked, jailed and put on trial, all because of his witness to the Word of God made flesh and hung upon a tree of death in order that it might become a tree of life for all who would believe. And now Paul was more and more convinced that the dungeon he now was chained in would be the last stop in encouraging all the churches and pastors placed under his care as he tirelessly proclaimed the saving Good News of eternal life in the one whom he once persecuted but now has freely served. Paul therefore pens his final epistle to both Timothy and to all who will hear it read with him as God comes to redeem through his Word in the divine service.
Through Saint Paul the apostle, faithful Timothy — and all of us — are reminded that God has entrusted us with his precious, saving gifts: the gift of Christ — his perfect life and sacrificial death and glorious resurrection from the dead; the gifts by which trust in his Word has been created and sustained: Holy Scripture, Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, the Holy Supper; and the gift of a joyous and courageous heart that can not but give witness to God and our neighbor in need. And as the blessed apostle exhorts his son in the faith to follow the pattern Paul has held up before him and all the churches, so we this morning are also called to serve the Lord with a clear conscience, a true faith, a resolute spirit, and a readiness to share in the sufferings of both Christ and all who would follow him.
It is as if Paul is saying,
Let cowardice give way to the courage given to you in Christ Jesus. Do not be ashamed, but treasure the one sure Treasure. Do not believe that heaven's promise of life for you is based on your great and mighty works, but confidently put your faith in the unshakeable promise that because of the grace and mercy God has made manifest in the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son, he has declared you holy, his dear child, and an heir of heaven.
And what the Lord says to Timothy through his chosen apostle he says to the Church today, "Though you are by nature timid and tense and uneasy, in Christ and united with him in Baptism, be an unashamed steward of what has been entrusted to you. Follow the pattern I have held up before you. Follow the life of faith I have lived. Follow me as I daily confess my sins, and, trusting in the Gospel of forgiveness, give the good witness that Christ came to rescue sinners broken under the crushing weight of the Law."
God, in Christ Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, has called us to be his people, robed in the righteousness of Christ, and sent as his ambassadors to those God has placed in our lives — to witness clearly to Christ and serve their needs in a way that says,
"We care — for you. We care for your salvation."
Our Crucified and Risen Lord has promised to bestow upon his Church on earth everything necessary to carry out what he has called his people to be and to do. By his Word and Spirit, may we continue to believe that in the Lamb who once was slain, we have been blessed for all eternity — that we might be used by him to be a blessing to many.
God keep you under his Word, in the grace of your Baptism, and the forgiveness and strength of his Table.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

"God is my Help." (Luke 16:19-31)

In the Name of Jesus

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ:
In the words of the hymn:

Forgive us Lord, for selfish thanks and praise,
For words that speak at variance with deeds;
Forgive our thanks for walking pleasant ways
Unmindful of a broken brother's needs. (LSB 788:3)

The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the sixteenth chapter:
[And Jesus said to them,] “There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day.  And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores.  The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side.  The rich man also died and was buried.  (Luke 16:19-22 ESV)

If the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus was made into a realistic video game, it would have to be rated GDHS for its Graphic Depiction of Human Suffering — human suffering both at the hands of a man with ample means to render aid and alleviate human suffering, and — if that wasn't enough — at the hands (actually the teeth) of ravenous dogs of the street on the prowl for a free meal as soon as this weak soul could not fend off the advances of their tongues.  
An invalid left parked on the sidewalk outside of the gated residence of a man who dressed to the hilt with clothes usually reserved for royalty and dined daily on the most delicious of dinners.
Poor, pitiful Lazarus.  Incapable of providing for himself the most meager of necessities, he is laid at the gate of one who proclaimed with his clothes and his feasts that he — a child of Abraham — was deserving of all placed into his large lap of luxury.  
And day by day, with all the festivities and merry-making, this rich man plunged himself deeper and deeper into his preoccupation of living the good life, living the blessed life.  Was it because he had spied the helpless man on the other side of the wall that separated his estate from his neighbors and their needs and quiet pleas for leftovers?  Was it because he refused to entertain the idea that he should lift even a finger for one he had convinced himself somehow deserved his miserable fate?  In any event, although we will later hear that he knows this helpless man's name (Lazarus, which means "God has helped") he fails miserably in alleviating the misery of a man who's only hope was a share in the scraps that inadvertently fell off the over-abundant table.
And if the contrast presented between these two men is stark during their earthly life, then it is as sharp as a razor at their deaths.  
Lazarus' death is met with the very angels from heaven, who lovingly carry a man who had only God's help to hope for.
He is not brought to lie outside a heavenly gate to be attended by Saint Bernards with whiskey kegs strapped to their collars.  His body is restored to health, his sores removed.  He is cleansed and clothed in the finest of linens to be brought to recline with Father Abraham himself as they join the wedding feast that has no end.
And what do we hear of the rich man's demise?  The description is matter-of-fact: "The rich man also died and was buried."  No angels.  No cleansing.  No clothing.  He died.  He was buried.  End of story.
With this parable Jesus paints the clearest of themes: the theme that the Saint Luke spotlights so well in his Gospel account: the Great Reversal of salvation that recounts again and again the judgment that awaits for those who live their lives in faith in response to the goodness and grace of God — and for those who do not.  One judgment for those who persist in their rebellion against God's call to repent, believe in his Son, and serve him freely by serving the needy God places before them, and acquital for all who would receive God's calling and promises in faith.
The Great Reversal announced by Christ and preserved in Luke's Gospel, from Mary in her singing of the Magnificat.  From Simeon as he holds the glory of Israel and the Light for the Gentiles in his hands.  And now from Jesus as he presents yet another parable to the Pharisees, who, as we heard last Sunday, were, with few exceptions, "lovers of money."
Our gracious and merciful God has called those who have abundantly been given his riches to freely, graciously, lovingly, serve the poor and helpless in joyful response to the mercies they have also been shown.  And the only way that can become a reality in our lives is as a fruit of faith in God's atoning mercy as he gives us who deserved only his wrath and punishment everything in his Son.
Have we followed the will of our heavenly Father as clearly presented by God's own mouthpieces: Moses and the Prophets?  Or have we succumbed to the temptation to believe that the helpless are simply getting their just deserts for their laziness and stupidity and lack of ambition to be what we have made ourselves into?
God forgive us and change our hearts.  God forgive us and open our eyes and our hearts to those whose cries for help are drowned out by our cries of merry-making and day-to-day excess.  

Forgive us, Lord, for feast that knows no fast.
For joy in things that meanwhile starve the soul.
For walls and [gates] that hide your mercies vast
And blur our vision of the Kingdom goal.  (LSB 788:5)

Jesus continues his parable:
"And in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side.  And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’  But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish.  And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’ "  (Luke 16:23-26 ESV)

He just doesn't get it.  Although the nameless rich man has come to grips with the meeting out of just deserts after a life of excess and success at the expense of such as poor Lazarus, he continues in his belief that Lazarus (and Father Abraham) are merely waiting to carry out his requests.  "Hey, Father Abraham, I'm thirsty over here.  Send errand boy Lazarus over here to re-fill my water glass."
No repentance.  No regrets.  Only the first inklings that the consequences for hoarding God's good gifts, for self-centered rebellion against God's merciful will, for neglecting the plight of the needy are just beginning.
Abraham announces the finality of the final judgment.  No deal-making.  No request-making.  No changing places.  Those who's only hope is in the grace of God — and his Son — find themselves comforted.  Those who's only hope is in the ordering of the universe with themselves in the center find themselves in anguish.

  Forgive us, Lord, for shallow thankfulness,
For dull content with warmth and sheltered care,
For songs of praise for food and harvest press,
While of your richer gifts we're unaware.  (LSB 788:1)

Lazarus longed for mere table scraps, the leftovers that we might assign to the garbage disposal or the plastic bowls of our house pets.  But despite the agony he experienced left for dead on the sidewalk, God had given him a name and a faith to trust that, despite all appearances, God had promised to be his help.  Lazarus longed for leftovers, but in Christ, God has lavashly given him his very best, the very life-blood of the one who was crowned with purple and a one-of-a-kind crown that he might win for all a heavenly robe and a chair at the banquet table with Abraham and all the faithful.
The eighth chapter of Second Corinthians tells us that Christ became poor that we might become rich.  Christ came to be our help and rescue from all that would come and devour us and leave us for dead.
Christ robed himself in our incurable sores and diseased skin.  Christ took upon himself our weakness and helplessness and abandonment - that we might be received by heaven's angels and readied for the feast with all who died trusting only in God and his only-begotten Son as their help and redemption.
Jesus concludes his parable:

"And [the rich man] said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’  But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’  And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’  He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’ ”  (Luke 16:27-31 ESV)

With increased resignation, the rich man turns his requests to those of his own house, those who joined him in his daily routine of gulping and gorging.  "O.K., well, if it's too late for me, warn those I care for.  Send a word to my five brothers from someone they will listen to: someone who has come back from the dead!"
Now we see why Lazarus is comforted and the rich man is destined for an eternity separated from God's grace and mercy and gifts at table.
You see, in this life and in the next, it's all about which word we put our trust in.
Will we believe a word from those who claim to have been brought back from the dead — or will we believe the Word through whom heaven and earth was created?
Will we believe the spirit of Christmas past — or will we believe the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us?
Will we believe those who claim to have a word from the great beyond — or will we believe the Word in whom Moses and the Prophets and Abraham and Lazarus put their faith: even Christ Jesus, the Word Incarnate.
It is Christ who laid aside the riches of his glory for Lazarus and for all who would confess that their only help is in God and his loving-kindness for those who, before him, hold only their sins in their hands.
We too have been found helpless and abandoned, unable to fend off the attacks of the world, the devil and our own sinful flesh.  But we have not been left for dead. At your Baptism, God gave you a name and a faith in his Word, a faith to trust that, despite all appearances, God had promised to be your help.  Being found in Christ, you have been washed and given the whitest of robes, that you might dine on the richest of foods at the wedding feast of the Lamb in his eternal Kingdom.
We pray:

Open our eyes to see your love's intent,
To know with minds and hearts its depths and height;
May thankfulness be days in service spent,
Reflections of Christ's life and love and light.  (LSB 788:6)

In the Name of our only help, Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen

The Delight of the Heavenly Father (Luke 14:1-14)

In the name of Jesus
Dear brothers and sisters called to the banquet hall of Christ:
Imagine receiving in the mail tomorrow an expensive-looking parchment envelope sporting simply your mailing address in beautiful calligraphy. You open up the fancy wax seal and pull out of the envelope an engraved dinner invitation, the letters embossed with gold foil. Everything about the invitation gives witness to the "spare-no-expense" character of the offered banquet.
This is the kind of communique that would instantly gladden our hearts and motivate us to openly share our excitement and thanksgiving with anyone who would willingly share our joy. "Look at what I received in the mail!" we would say as we paraded the invitation before the eyes of our quite-possibly jealous friends.
But what if you knew in your heart-of-hearts that someone had made a great big mistake? What if you actually knew that the calligrapher had inadvertently switched the numbers of the street address? Or actually had sent the invitation to the resident who previously lived at your address? What if you had convinced yourself that there was just no way this invitation should have come to you? Would you go anyway and try to convince the doorkeeper of your worthiness to partake? Or, would you finally discard the invitation or drop it back in the mail after writing on the front of the envelope: "Delivered to the wrong address."?
It's hard for me to imagine anyone not getting excited about receiving a special dinner invitation. It's just part of who we are as human beings, created in the image of God himself. Dolphins might be intelligent, monkeys might be able to communicate, but show them a fancy dinner invitation and they'd just as soon eat it than R.S.V.P. It is Adam and Eve and all their children who were uniquely created to respond with joy and thanksgiving and trust to a call to table, to fellowship with fellow diners and the host of the meal.
In the garden of Eden, our first parents were given the most lavish of spreads as the Lord of the Table spared no expense to make available everything our first parents might even want, and more. It was as if God was saying, "All this has been provided for you, that we might enjoy each other's presence in one of the most special ways possible: at morning and noon and evening meal.
Pastor Norman Nagel says it this way:
The Lord loves a banquet. He is happiest when his people are gathered at the table with him. The Lord delights in giving out good things — ordinary, everyday things, and things far beyond the ordinary. It has always been that way.
When he created the world, God was so pleased with it that he couldn't keep it for himself and simply had to share it with some who would delight in it with him. And there is always more — more than we could ever imagine. ... Half a dozen different birds would surely [have been] enough, perhaps a dozen kinds of fish. But no, we have some of the craziest looking fish. Some from deep down in the darkest depths of the sea we have only recently [seen]. ... [We wonder,] "Why on earth did God make something like that?"
Why on earth did the Lord make something like you? There is only one like you — ever has been, ever will be. The Lord multiplies his delight. He doesn't have the same delight in any hundred of the same. He has a different delight in each unique one of us, and he invites us into delighting with him in each one. (Norman Nagel. Selected Sermons. 161)
But when Adam and Eve took to heart the demonic invitation to doubt God's goodness and his grace and believe the lie that their Creator was less than generous with his gifts, fellowship at the table — and our delight in the gracious differences God made between us — came to a very messy and abrupt end. And we've been unsuccessfully attempting to regain a place at the Lord's table — or replace it with one of our own — ever since.
That's why God had to quickly step in and set in motion the one thing that would restore our fellowship with him and one another. That's why the almighty creator of heaven and earth promised Adam and Eve — and you through them — that at just the right time things would be brought back to the center: God and his redeemed people delighting in each other in an eternal heavenly banquet hall.
You see, the history of salvation can be read — should be read — as the unstoppable unfolding of God's central promise to send the One who would make it possible for every fallen child of Adam and Eve to be cleaned up, properly dressed and escorted to table in the kingdom of heaven, there to enjoy not only the food and drink and song of the banquet, but most importantly, to delight in each other and the good and gracious host of the feast who made it all possible and sustains it with his all-powerful Word.
In today's Gospel we have Christ's take on the feast to come — who's invited, how the guests are prepared for the meal, what's being served, who's doing the serving — contrasted to that of the Jewish religious leaders of Jesus' day. And the contrast couldn't be greater, and more costly for Jesus.
For you see, who Jesus invites and prepares and serves at table leads directly to his arrest and trial and suffering and death. That's how much the Pharisees felt about his table manners. No less than three times in Saint Luke's Gospel account we hear that they grumbled at Jesus, saying, "This man stands condemned as a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors — a table companion of sinners! (Luke 5:30; 7:34; 15:2)
The Pharisees desired a festal meal of their own making, one that would put the spotlight on their self-created status as the dining elite. They enjoyed their mutual applause. They guarded it and got rid of anyone who threatened to expose it as hollow.
Whether it is received in faith or rejected in unbelief, Jesus did come to be the friend of sinners. That is his title. He came to save the likes of religious outcasts and spiritual misfits who had all but given up hope that heaven's banquet table would ever be open for them. Jesus came as the friend of all who believed the only thing they could place before God's altar of salvation was their sin.
Jesus came to willingly, joyfully give hope to the hopeless and faith to the despairing. The great exchange: his righteousness for their unrighteousness. His life blood to redeem the poor and crippled and blind and lame.
Who may properly be escorted to the Lord's banquet hall?
Those whom the Lord has prepared as he comes in his Word with water to wash and cleanse and cloth with the only garment worthy of the great banquet hall: the unstained robe of the Son's perfect life in our place. His keeping of the Law, his pure delight in the love and grace of God the Father. His sinless response as he bowed to the will of the One who sent him and clothed himself with a lowly servant's towel to prepare those who could never earn an invitation for an eternal meal with their Creator.
Who may properly be escorted to the Lord's table?
Those who approach, as Luther often reminds us, in faith, truly believing that from Christ and his table they receive his very body and blood, in, with and under the bread and wine, for the forgiveness of all of their sins.
Who may properly be escorted to the feast that will have no end?
Those who are given the grace to examine their unworthiness, their constant need for Christ's word of absolution. Those who confess before heaven and earth that outside of the perfect life and sacrificial death of Christ, they would be found outside the hall for all eternity.
Who may properly be escorted to sit with the Lord of the Banquet and his ransomed guests?
Those who by God's mercy acknowledge that God's forgiving gifts at the Cross of his Son are never to be hoarded or kept locked away in a vault, but allowed to spill over into the lives of those who have trespassed against us.
This morning, believe in your heart and confess with your lips that God was most pleased, most delighted with us, when he baptized us, through the Holy Spirit, into his Son. On that day we first believed, we were marked with the Cross and sealed for his eternal feast.
"Friend of sinners." This is the title Christ received at his one-of-a-kind baptism, as he was sent forth to make all things ready — to be the true friend who lays down his very life for those he loves.
Believe and do not doubt. It is not a great big mistake. Christ has spoken his Word over you. "I take from you all that bars you from my Father's heavenly hall. I have washed you and clothed you. I delight in being your butler, cook, host — your food and drink. In me and my righteous sacrifice in your stead, you are my Father's beloved guest. In repentant joy, come to my table."
In the name of Jesus. Amen

The One Thing Needful (Luke 10:38-42)

In the Name of Jesus

Dear brothers and sisters baptized into Christ:

Last weekend, at the annual congregational retreat, many of us here gathered around the campfire and the night sky to sing those vacation Bible school songs we first learned as small children. And after several verses of "Father Abraham" and "I Will Make You Fishers of Men," we sang about a sycamore tree and a wee-little man named Zachaeus, repeating the refrain with loud voices and joyfully clapping hands; echoing the words of Jesus himself: "For I'm going to your house today."
The coming of the kingdom of God to the house of a repentant, believing tax collector is something every true Christian should sing about with heart-felt joy. This is the same spectacular advent announced by the seventy-two disciples. This is the same amazing epiphany portrayed in the parable of the good Samaritan. The holy one of God — sent and baptized into his unique mission as the spotless sacrifice for sin and the victor over death and the grave; the very Son of God — comes under the roof of the house of Zacaheus to proclaim salvation for sinners and restore a wandering sheep to God's dear flock. And now he comes under the roof of the home of Mary and Martha.
Now as they [the disciples] went on their way, he [Jesus] entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. (Luke 10:38 ESV)
In the eyes of the unbelieving, Jesus does the unexpected and the unacceptable. The crowds had been taken back when Jesus, that promising young rabbi from Nazareth, had invited himself to the sinful house of a sinful tax collector named Zachaeus, judged by most as not only a sympathizer to the pagan Roman empire but as a traitor to his own people. And that crowd around the sycamore tree would have had a very similar reaction as Jesus now accepts the invitation of a woman to enter her home. A woman approaching a saintly rabbi and taking him into her house? Didn't she know that kind of thing was just not done? What would the neighbors think? Doesn't he know what staying in the home of two unattached women will do to his budding career? Doesn't he have a reputation to keep clean?
Nevertheless, before the disapproving and disappointed crowd, Jesus receives the invitation offered and — without first asking about the quality of awaiting amenities and the quantity of the cuisine — enters the private residence of these two sisters who, as in the case of Zachaeus, may have very well been suffering under a less-than-spotless reputation.
And she [Martha] had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and kept on listening to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. (Luke 10:39-40a ESV)
Two sisters prepare themselves to receive the Lord, but in very different ways. Whether Mary began to straighten the linens on the table and peel the potatoes before she found herself sitting at the feet of Jesus we are not told. But, soon, Martha realized that she was left shouldering the weight of all that needed to be done to properly receive such an important guest, especially the preparations for a proper meal. Ordering out for pizza was simply out of the question. This wasn't uncle Fred come to socialize. This was the Lord, God's own anointed, the One she believed was the hope of Israel. Frantic, she began to get everything ready for her great service to this, the greatest guest that would ever venture under her roof. And very quickly she realized that she couldn't pay attention to the words Jesus was announcing in the front room while running around the kitchen chopping up meat and vegetables, kneeding the bread and mixing the sauces that would accompany the meal. With all her works of service, she became distracted and diverted — from the word of Christ, from the greater service he was doing through his word. In her attempt to first serve Christ, she had distanced herself from the very gifts Christ came to graciously give her. She didn't mean to, but, even with the best intentions, she put the cart before the horse. For you see, when Christ comes under our roof, he wills that even the hostess of the house come and allow him to do the unexpected, but that one thing required: to serve us.
The first thing presented in any Christian study of the God-pleasing, the Biblical, the Lutheran understanding of what goes on here on Sunday mornings is a review of the little word "service." To many, Sunday morning is all about the service of our worship. Too many of us approach Sunday morning service — and our entire Christian life — busy accomplishing this and doing that in a frenzied attempt to make things just right and proper for Christ and his Church. We assemble the homeless food bags on Monday, we clean the refrigerator in the congregation's kitchen on Tuesday, we chair the meeting to decide which contractor will re-surface the parking lot on Wednesday, we plan the Thanksgiving golf outing on Thursday, we sort the preschool crayons on Friday, we polish the sanctuary piano on Saturday, and we sleep through the alarm on Sunday.
Martha's distractions are our diversions. Martha's fallen nature is our fallen nature. Martha's temptation to first serve Jesus, and then, if there's time left over, to let Jesus say a few words is our danger as well. The devil, the world and our own sinful nature love nothing more than keeping us busy with saintly things to do that will drown out the voice of our Good Shepherd and bring us outside earshot of his redeeming word.
What Christ deigns for Sunday morning as he gathers us under this roof, is — first and foremost — his precious, life-giving service for each of us. He comes to feed and nourish us with his food as the Bread that came down from heaven.
It is Christ and his Word that makes a Church. It is Christ and his Word that makes a family and a Church family. In the same manner as the Gentile man rescued from demon-possession, Mary has begun to trust in Jesus as the Lord who redeems through his Word, and finds herself a disciple of Jesus, being found where a disciple of Jesus should be found: at his feet, that her ears might quickly receive what his mouth so graciously offered.
But back in the kitchen, things are really heating up.
And she [Martha] went up to him [Jesus] and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:40b-42 ESV)
Tormented Martha is at her wit's end. "How shameful." she thinks. Not only has her younger sister abandoned ship, but Jesus continues to give Mary his undivided attention as Rabbi and Teacher and Lord instead of allowing her to do what she should be doing: serving him his portion of the cheese and crackers and wine and coleslaw and rolls and potatoes and gravy and roast.
The great thing we celebrate when Jesus came a knockin' at the door of Zachaeus is not his great promise to make things right by writing a big check for the poor. It is Jesus' greater promise to make things right by the giving of his very life for scoundrels like Zachaeus.
Matthew 20:28 and Mark 10:45 document the purpose for which Christ came as we hear from Jesus own lips: "The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for the many.” Jesus said. (Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45 ESV)
The great thing we celebrate when Jesus entered the house of Mary and Martha is not their great work of serving a six course meal. It is Jesus' greater work as the Suffering Servant who carries us to table, sits us down in our chair, and serves us with his Word. His Word with water. His Word with bread and wine. His Word through the Prophets and Apostles.
God-given faith trusts that with Jesus it's a one course meal — and he gives us himself.
May God in his grace open our ears and sit us down at the feet of Christ and his Word, the one thing needful — the one thing that can never be taken away.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Life Under the Voice of the Good Shepherd (John 10:14-18)

In the Name of Jesus

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Come unto me and rest;
Lay down, O weary one, lay down your head upon my breast."
I came to Jesus as I was, so weary, worn and sad;
I found in him a resting place, And he has made me glad.

If people today can agree on anything, they can agree on the fact that in these last days there are plenty of voices calling to the sheep, "Come and follow."
We instruct our children who to listen to and who to follow. And at the same time we teach our children who to ignore and who to run away from. We spend millions to educate our young people on the dangers of listening to and following the wrong kind of friends. But, at the same time, we spend even more bringing thousands of voices into our very homes so that we may sit mesmerized by a myriad of voices from cables that snake their way into our houses and into our ears through the screen of the television and the internet: the family altar of our age.
And this morning's Gospel underscores the severity of the problem each of us face in a world bombarded with the voices of all kinds of shepherds calling for the sheep to come and follow. You see, when it comes to salvation, it's truly a matter of life and death which shepherd's voice we listen to.
Scientific experiments have shown it to be true. Sheep recognize their own shepherd not by the clothes he wears, not by the staff he carries, not by the dog at his side. The sheep know their own shepherd by his voice, by the words that come out of his mouth. And its the same thing for the true Christian Church on earth and for each true believer in Christ. That's the way it's been from the beginning, as Saint Matthew's account of our Good Shepherd's transfiguration shows.

While [Jesus] was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well-pleased. Listen to him!" (Matthew 17:5)

It is specifically this blessed relationship between our heavenly Father and his beloved Son that serves as the basis for any blessed relationship we might enjoy between each of us and our Redeemer. The love and grace and kindness within the Trinity is the foundation upon which salvation is set. This Christ reveals as he announces:

I am the Good Shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me: because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father." (John 10:14-18)

The world today needs to hear these clear words of Christ. Your neighbor needs to hear these clear words of Christ. You and I need to hear these clear words of Christ and keep them treasured in our hearts today and every day. To the fatherless, to the widowed, to the sick and dying, to the prisoner, to the despairing, to the lonely, to the neglected -- to the sinner -- Christ has something very definite to say: "I am the Good Shepherd. ... And I lay down my life for the sheep."
The Shepherd is the Good Shepherd because only he truly cares for the sheep. Only he truly cares because only he willingly, voluntarily leaves the glories of heaven to lay down his own life for such and undeserving flock of wayward and wandering sheep.
Saint John says it beautifully when he writes these inspired words:

God's love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live trough him. In this is love, no that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1John 4:9-10)

How do we know the Good Shepherd's voice in the midst of all the other voices calling us to follow? The voice of the Good Shepherd is the voice of the one who defines true care for the dirty, tired and helpless sheep. The Good Shepherd's staff is held by arms with pierced wrists. The Good Shepherd leads his flock to green pastures with pierced feet. The Good Shepherd is the crucified and risen shepherd -- crucified and risen for the poor sheep.
Five hundred years ago, Martin Luther said it this way, "The only duty of a Christian is to know Christ aright." This is the life-long task of the Christian Church on earth. This is the life-long task of this congregation and each one of us here this morning: to know the real Good Shepherd; to know the true Shepherd's true voice, that voice that spoke over us when we first believed.

I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Behold, I freely give
The living water, thirsty one; stoop down and drink and live.
I came to Jesus, and I drank of that life-giving stream;
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, and now I live in him.

The Shepherd has come and spoke to us with water and his Word. The Shepherd comes and speaks to us through the pages of the Holy Bible. The Shepherd comes to speak over bread and wine laid upon his altar, that his flock may feed upon his very body and blood.
Yes, we have been baptized into the Good Shepherd. Our ears have been baptized and brought to life, and now we are able to hear the voice of our Master. Our ears have been washed with his Word and now we are able to hear the voice of Jesus calling us to follow wherever he may graciously lead. In faith we now hear him as he comes this morning and says, "I am the Good Shepherd. ... And I lay down my life for the sheep."
And, in response, we say back to him, "Yes, you are my Good Shepherd, for you laid down my life for me."
A pastor once wrote:

... even though I must suffer death and all kinds of misfortune, I will not let that thwart my faith. I know and hear and stay close to his voice! For even as a shepherd tenderly calls his little sheep, so Christ also encourages me. "I am your shepherd. I have laid down my life for you. I died for you!" This is the word I hear and believe. This is my one sure guarantee that he knows me and I know him. ...
Never doubt, therefore, that when a person is baptized, they are as lovely and pure in God's sight as is the dear sun, no sin remaining, nothing but eternal righteousness. Christ himself spoke that way. "He who believes and is baptized shall be saved." But this, of course, cannot be outwardly observed. Regardless, however, it's true, provided we abide with the word and the voice of the Shepherd. Everything depends, therefore, on our holding fast to the Word ... .

Those words, written by Martin Luther to the flock over 460 years ago are as true today as they were then. Until Christ comes again, it is all about the voice of the Good Shepherd. For wherever the Word of the Shepherd is, there is his flock, the Church. Therefore the Reformers could joyfully confess that even "a seven-year child knows what the Church is, namely, holy believers and sheep who hear the voice of their Shepherd." (Smalcald Articles 3.12.2)

This age continues in its parent's footsteps of fall prey to false shepherds who ravage the flock and entice away any from the flock who begin to doubt in Christ the Shepherd's call, and the results are not pretty. One example stands out.
Years ago, a man journeyed throughout the land, preaching that he was the promised good shepherd, teaching a new religion that exposed the decay and hypocrisy of society while preaching hope of a restored life in the kingdom of God. For years this shepherd called people to follow him and become disciples of his flock. He promised the thousands he prosteletized, "I can be your shepherd, and my father can be your higher shepherd."
The man to whom I'm referring is Marshall Applewhite, co-leader of the religious group known as "Heaven's Gate." This shepherd led his flock to worship him as the great shepherd and savior, to devote themselves to his seductive teachings, and to blindly follow him as he jumped off the cliff of despair and darkness. This infamous shepherd promised to care for the sheep and to give them life, but instead poisoned the herd with a hypnotizing mix of empty promises and misleading words.
Again, Luther:
Recognizing a true christian, therefore, involves far more than outward appearances; it's a matter of hearing the Word. That's exactly how it is with a little sheep. It's very life depends upon hearing. If it doesn't hear the [true] Shepherd's voice, the wolves will soon be there. Without the Shepherd's voice, all joy and assurance vanish and only fear and trembling remain.
That's how it is also with a Christian. If he looses the Word, all comfort is gone. But as long as he is faithful to the Word, he will behold Christ his Shepherd, and therefore everything Christ has earned and promised him, namely, forgiveness of sins and eternal life.
And this enables [a Christian] to live out his life in full and certain hope. He eats, drinks, works, does what he is told to do, yes, will even gladly suffer whatever is laid upon him. He keeps his ears wide open for his Shepherd's voice and more and more trains himself not to judge according to what he sees and feels but solely according to the sound of the Shepherd's voice, "I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep."

This morning the Good Shepherd comes to his own. He comes and speaks, and his sheep hear his voice and follow, living with is Word in their ears and in their hearts, repeating it to themselves and to God and to their neighbor.
Hear again these precious words of Christ. Memorize them. Tuck them into your heart. Hold tight to them every day of your life. Remind yourself of them when you wake up and when you go to sleep.

"I am the Good Shepherd, for I laid down my life for you."

I heard the voice of Jesus say, "I am this dark world's light;
Look unto me, your morn shall rise, And all your day be bright."
I looked to Jesus, and I found in him my star, my sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk till trav'ling days are done.