How Saints are Made. (John 14:6) Feast of Saint Philip and Saint James

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

Dear Fellow Redeemed in Christ:

Maybe you’ve heard.  On this, the first day of May, the feast day of Saint Philip and Saint James, someone is becoming a saint.
Today, someone is becoming a saint after a full-blown investigation and review.  After a thorough examination and inspection of their life and words and writings.  After all the qualifications for becoming a saint are documented and authenticated and certified by an official seal of approval.
Because, no one wants to be proclaimed a saint only to be later dropped from the official saint list - like poor Saint Christopher - I mean poor former Saint Christopher.
And so the pilgrimages have already begun to view the body of this newly-declared saint.  His remains have been dug up and now on display, hundreds of thousands of people believing that if they just view this saint with their own eyes, or touch the hem of his burial cloth, they will receive some special merit before the Lord Almighty.
But where would God himself want our eyes and ears focused on this day?  On Saint Philip or Saint James? On Saint Karol or Saint Joseph?  Where does God himself want us to look to receive his blessing, his commendation, his approval?
The Holy Gospel According to Saint John, the 14th chapter:
[Jesus said,] “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.  In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.  And you know the way to where I am going.”  
Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”  
Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.  If you had known me, you would have known my Father also.  From now on you do know him and have seen him.”
Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.”
Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?"  (John 14:1-9 ESV)
"Do this for me, God, and then I will be satisfied."  When was the last time you prayed that prayer?  "Just see me through this one time, and then I'll never complain to you again."  "All I want is this one thing, and then I'll be in church every Sunday and give you 15% of everything I have and be nice to all those people I really can’t stand.”
“Show us the Father,” Philip requests. “Show us what Moses got to see. Show us what Isaiah got to see. Let us see God’s saving glory and then we will be content.”
Philip and James and John and Peter and Matthew and you and I all wanted one kind of glory, but heaven gave quite another. For, as Luther reminds us, if we start looking for God in his heavenly glory we will never find him. We must look for our Father in heaven — hidden in the revelation of the only One who has seen and has perfect fellowship with the Father: the only-begotten Son found in the Bethlehem manger, in the simple shop of a Nazareth carpenter, in the insignificant-looking Jesus who rides into Jerusalem upon all the glory of a donkey and dies a sinner’s death upon a cross.
Here we believe that God’s final Word in this world is to be found hidden in the Scriptures. Hidden in Baptism. Hidden in the Lord’s Supper to all but the eyes of faith.
And what Philip learned, in repentance and faith, is what we must also learn: our salvation has come in the person and work of Christ Jesus. He is the fulfillment of all things. In him all is finished. All is complete. All has been accomplished for us and for the world and sealed with God’s stamp of approval in the resurrection of Christ from the dead.
But our old nature still keeps looking for other miracles and other manifestations and other ways it thinks God should be revealing himself to us. Mayan calendars and bleeding statues. Mysterious arrangements of ancient stone pillars and cryptic formations of lights from outer space.
Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.”
Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father."  (John 14:8-9 ESV)
Today everyone wants a piece of the miraculous. Everyone hungers for some sudden epiphany from heaven. A divine experience. A close encounter of the heavenly kind.
But if any one should know that’s not the way it works in this life, it should be us here this morning. We know what happens when sinful people are placed in the presence of a holy and righteous God, the Almighty Lord of heaven and earth. Why do you think there was a curtain a handbreadth’s thickness covering the Lord’s presence around the Holy of Holies?
We as fallen, sinful people don’t survive if put face-to-face before the Almighty in his glory. How do we know that? Take a look at Moses on Mount Sinai. Take a look at Isaiah, chapter 6.
Take a look at the cross. See and note well what happens when God’s justice is unleashed on the one who becomes sin for us and for the entire world.
It is not for the Father’s good, but for our good that God has come hidden and clothed and wrapped in human flesh, bearing the form of a servant, to give us the faith to believe that when we hear Christ, we hear the Father. When we are baptized into Christ, we are made children of the heavenly Father. When we commune with our Lord at his holy Table, we commune with all the saints in paradise and with the One who dwells in unapproachable glory and light.
But sadly there are those who seek a different place to look for God’s favor. In horoscopes, in fortune tellers, in following the fallen and deceptive desires of the human heart. And, yes, even in the empty comfort that our desires will be found if a saint in heaven prays and intercedes on our behalf.
That’s what God had to save Luther the schoolboy from as he called out in a lightening storm: “Saint Anne, save me and I will become a monk!”
That’s what God must save many from today. “Pray for me, Saint Francis, and rescue me and then I will be truly blessed!”
But before we get all self-righteous about what is happening in Vatican City today, let’s remember what’s happening today in many congregations who call themselves Christian.  Last week everyone celebrated the resurrection of our Lord.  This sanctuary and others like it were in “standing-room-only” mode.
And just a week later, much of Sunday morning has returned to the world’s old tune of “what I need to do to be holy.”  “What I need to do to be blessed by God.”  “Five steps to a worry-free life.”  “Ten Stages to be Truly Blessed by God.”  There may even be a few congregations where the topic of the sermon is: “How even you can be a great saint — if you are sincere enough, if you pray enough, if you only try hard enough to make God smile.”
Feast Days in the Christian Church are not the occasion to dig out a body or put a hand or tooth or piece of cloth on display that we might receive a special blessing by viewing it.
God through his holy Word couldn’t have made it any more clear.  Worshipping remnants of those who are eternally with the Lord don’t get us any closer to heaven.  And worshipping our own self-made merits and good works is just as bad.
They actually get in the way.  They become a great distraction.  They can quickly become a danger to our true faith in God’s peculiar way of graciously saving us - through his Son and his Son alone.
That’s what we hear at just about every funeral service here as the words of our Lord from John 14 are read:
Jesus said … , “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6 ESV)
That’s what we need to hear this morning on the feast day of Saint Philip and Saint James.  That’s what we need to hear this morning as Rome adds another name to it’s official list of saints.
We do not become a servant of God or worthy of veneration or blessed or saint or Christian by living a holy-enough life to be recognized by some special church “saint recognition” committee.  Saints are not identified by evidence that their body didn’t smell bad or decay after death.  Saints are not determined by whether or not they saved another after they died by praying and interceding for them and causing a miracle to take place.
Saints are made by grace alone, by faith alone, by Christ alone as God’s Word comes and creates holy saints and heirs of heaven — as water is splashed on us at the Baptismal font.  As bread and wine from the altar is placed into our hands and mouths.  As the voice of God himself is heard through weak and fallen and sinful prophets and apostles as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.
This morning, it isn’t a church committee, but God himself, through his grace, through his Word, through his Son, through his Holy Baptism and Scriptures and Table, that announces to you this day: acknowledging you sin and looking to Christ and his Cross alone as your righteousness, “I declare you my beloved, precious, forgiven, glorious saint. Through my Son, and him alone, I am well-pleased with you.”
May God in his mercy keep our eyes where true redemption is to be found: on our crucified and risen Lord, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be all power, honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

The Glory of Christ and his Word and Cross (Transfiguration of Our Lord) Matthew 17:1-9

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters Redeemed in the Blood of the Lamb:

“And after six days.” These four words serve as a clear reminder that this glorious event most commonly referred to as “The Transfiguration of Our Lord” needs to always be understood in light of what happened those six days before Jesus took Peter, James and John up a high mountain.
This morning we are reminded that Christians are called to interpret and understand and believe not simply a verse of Scripture here and a verse of Scripture there, as we see fit. We are called to receive the Scriptures as the Holy Scriptures, as the whole body of the Old and New Testament books reveals God’s gracious plan of salvation through the body of his one and only Son.
It is the Holy Spirit working through his servant Matthew that deigns to begin this account of this mountaintop event with the four little words, “And after six days.” And we do well to note them and look where they point if we are to see clearly the place of Our Lord’s Transfiguration in our redemption and the redemption of the world.
So, let us take a look at what Saint Matthew records in chapter 16 about the days that lead up to the glory revealed to Jesus’ disciples that night.
Two things. First, Jesus warns his own about the infectious disease of unbelief and outright rebellion against God and his anointed — exhibited in the Pharisees and Sadducees.
“We demand that you show us a sign from heaven to authenticate what you are saying and doing. We demand proof that you are the promised Messiah.” they say.
And what is Jesus’ response? “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah.” (Matthew 16:4 ESV)
Our Lord simply repeats what he had said to the demands of those who would not believe, back in chapter 12:
Then some of the scribes and Pharisees answered [Jesus], saying, “Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.” But he answered them, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” (Matthew 12:38-40 ESV)
All who demand of Jesus some kind of glorious miracle, some fantastic floorshow before they will consider putting their trust in his Word will only see the sign that appears most un-glorious, the farthest from fantastic: the Son of Man killed, to then be buried in the heart of the earth for three days and three nights. — So much for making Jesus one’s own personal entertainment system.
To those who refuse to believe in Jesus as the Son of God, come in human flesh, they will witness the sign of Jonah — but to their judgment, to their condemnation.
Second, Jesus gives more than a few days so that the disciples can hear, mark, learn and take to heart his words about his final journey to Jerusalem. The religious leaders had refused to believe in Jesus as the Messiah because they saw in him none of the glory and majesty and power they had expected of the promised Messiah.
And to the Twelve — to those who would follow him by faith in his Word — Jesus begins to speak clearly about what kind of Messiah he has come to be. How his Sonship will be fulfilled. How their salvation, and the salvation of the entire world will be won. And it won’t look pretty. It won’t look glorious. It will look downright terrifying. Downright un-believeable.
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 [this faith] 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. (Matthew 16:13-20 ESV)
Good old Peter got the title right. Yes, this Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God, the Messiah, the Christ of God. And Jesus blesses this confession given through the mouthpiece of the twelve disciples. But now comes the more difficult question only faith can rightly answer: “What kind of Christ is Jesus? What kind of Messiah has he come to be — for Peter and James and John and the Twelve — for you and me?”
Without the revelation of how Jesus would fulfill his unique mission of Messiah, Peter couldn’t even begin to put his faith in the actual Christ heaven had sent.
And so for those six days, Jesus began to show them what lied ahead — for him, and for them as his disciples. How the gift of the forgiveness of sins was actually going to be won. What price was to be paid for the exodus of God’s people from the deadly chains of sin and the seemingly all-powerful Pharaoh of eternal despair and death. Jesus was beginning to reveal to his followers — and each of us through them — what being the Christ was all about.
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.” Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:21-24 ESV)
Peter couldn’t stand to hear that Jesus had been called to journey to Jerusalem to — of all things — lay down his very life at the hands of his enemies. The Christ was — seemingly — to be defeated by the unimagineable shame of suffering at the hands of unbelieving religious leaders? How could this be the destiny of the all-glorious Messiah? “I won’t let this happen to you!” Peter says as he tries to save his Lord from such a seemingly inappropriate fate.
But Jesus, oh so gentle Jesus, after six days, takes Peter and James and John up to a high mountain. He does not chase them away. He does not abandon them to their own silly ideas of what the true Messiah should accomplish. He does not find smarter theologians or more pious followers. He takes a deep breath and then takes them to witness what had been hidden in, with and under the thick cloak of his human nature: his heavenly glory. He begins to reveal that his death will be exactly what is needed — for Peter and the world — and you and me.
And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. And Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” He was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces and were terrified. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only. And as they were coming down the mountain, Jesus commanded them, “Tell no one the vision, until the Son of Man is raised from the dead.” (Matthew 17:1-9 ESV)
In spite of all the eye-popping visuals, the Almighty gives all disciples of Jesus the clearest of instructions: “Listen to my beloved Son. Let true faith lead by what you hear from the mouth of my Christ. Whether you see his glory or don’t see any of his glory, open your ears and listen. For you and for your salvation, listen to him, and him alone.”
This is why Martin Luther called the Church a mouth and ear house. This is why God in Christ through the Holy Spirit creates faith in our heart — through our ears. This is why our sense of hearing is the first to appear in the womb and the last to leave us at our death. “Listen,” God calls to you. “Listen to the words of my beloved, salvation-winning Son. As a sheep knows the true shepherd by the sound of his voice, listen to the word of my life-giving Good Shepherd. My Son, who pleases me — by giving his life as a sacrifice for your many sins.”
And what of that command not to say a word about Jesus as the Christ who will hand himself over to the all but glorious cross?
Christ’s death will not only make atonement for the sins of the entire world, for the sins you believe are too great for anyone to take off your shoulders, for the sins even you are not aware of, for the sins of living life by your eyes on the world and not by your ears under the Word of God made human flesh and blood. It is Christ’s death and the seal of his sacrifice’s acceptance before God in his resurrection that gives sense to what kind of Christ God has sent. Gives sense to what kind of salvation is now offered to all sinful children of Adam and Eve. Gives sense to heaven’s revelation that the grace and mercy and forgiveness and loving-kindness of God found in Christ’s death for sinners — always want to have the final word — for Peter and for James and John and for you and for the person in your life you mistakenly believe God would never save.
The cross of Christ. It made satisfaction for Peter’s upside-down understanding of what kind of Christ stood before him.
The cross of Christ. It gave understanding to Peter of how God’s plan of salvation would actually be fulfilled.
The cross of Christ. It gave Peter the gifts of forgiveness and faith — and the ability to sing the glories of the Lamb who once was slain — to anyone who would listen.
And Christ and his Cross are doing the same with your redeemed ears and mind and heart and mouth — as you hear his Word — through the prophets and apostles, through the water of the font, through the bread and wine from our Lord’s altar.
May Christ and his Word and his Cross be our only glory, now and for eternity.
A blessed Transfiguration of Our Lord.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Immanuel - A Beautiful Name (Matthew 1:223-23)

Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ:

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Immanuel. What a beautiful-sounding name.
Immanuel. We stick this title on the cover of Christmas cards and include it in our Christmas songs. It forms the title of the quintessential Advent hymn. We do not sing "O Come, O Come, Great Encourager from God" or "O Come, O Come, Great Moral Example from God," but "O Come, O Come, Immanuel." This has been the song of the Christian Church in these days before Christmas for countless generations.
We Lutherans even use this title when giving a name to a new congregation — even though no one can decide whether this name begins with an "e" or an "i." For example, there are at least three congregations in our area named Immanuel Lutheran Church; in Orange, LaHabra and Long Beach. And each of the three congregations spell the word differently.
But regardless of how you spell it. There it is.
Immanuel. What a beautiful-sounding name. Over the last 25 years it has consistently ranked in the top 200 baby names in the United States.
Immanuel. A beautiful-sounding name, but, as we have been trained to ask since our first days of studying the Catechism, "What does this mean?" What does this name actually signify? And, most importantly, what does it mean that the center of these days of Advent: this coming Son of Mary, this Son of David, this Son of God — is given by heaven the name "Immanuel"?
What do you confess when you say, "I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is Immanuel."? How would you respond if someone were to ask you, "What does this name actually mean? Why is this baby in a Bethlehem manger (who's birth we are patiently — or maybe not so patiently — waiting for) given the name "Immanuel"? What kind of answer would we give? Hopefully something more substantive than: "Good question. Let me google that and get back to you."
In these days before Christmas, Christ would bring us to his Word and feed us with the promises that all the faithful before that Christmas night lived clinging to, died hoping in, and now sing about in eternity.
May God in his grace prepare each of us for his coming through the Word of Christ, through the Spirit of Christ, that we would have an everlasting joy and an unshakable hope. Amen

Immanuel. What do we know about Jesus being given the name "Immanuel"? Well, the simplest, clearest place to go is the words given to us by the Holy Spirit through the inspired pen of the evangelist Saint Matthew. Carried along by the same Holy Spirit that inspired Isaiah and overshadowed Mary, Saint Matthew leaves no room for misunderstanding when he tells us in the 22nd and 23rd verses of the first chapter of his Gospel account:

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). (Matthew 1:22-23 ESV)

Oh. Now we get it. Immanuel means "God-with-us." In the coming infant Jesus, God is with us.

But, we ask, how is it that the birth of a virgin's son, the birth of God in human flesh and blood, the birth of Immanuel, is, for each of us and for the world, Good News? Really Good News. Good News that lasts not a week or a month, but an entire lifetime and into eternity.
That, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, is the million dollar question in this season of waiting and hoping and repenting and rejoicing and reflecting on what it actually means for the world and for each of us that our Lord Jesus Christ came down from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary and was made man, made human flesh and bone, took upon himself our very nature, yet without sin.
What is the connection between eternal peace and "God-with-us"?
Imagine being given the task of consoling the unconsolable, giving comfort to someone who can find no spiritual comfort, giving genuine, eternal Good News to someone racked with a true awareness of their weakness and failures and sin. "There is no hope for me," they cry out. "I cannot make satisfaction for my many sins. I have given up trying to make myself holy. It is impossible for me to stand before the almighty Lord of heaven and earth, the Lord who hates sin and sends wrath and judgment upon the unrighteous. It all makes me want to ask God to stay away from me."
In that kind of situation, how is "God-with-us" any comfort at all?
Just ask Isaiah about "God-with-us." In the 6th chapter of the book of Isaiah the prophet, the great Isaiah is as good-as-dead when brought into the holy presence of the Lord. Unbridled, out-in-the-open "God-with-us" spells judgment and eternal death for Isaiah, as it spells judgment and eternal death for all fallen and sinful children of our first parents.
God-with-us in his glory and holiness? That may be great for the designers of the world's holiday cards and winter television specials. But it is a death sentence for anyone who acknowledges sin as real sin. Because if the almighty Lord just showed up next to any of us in all his power and glory and might and majesty, we would be forced to confess, as Isaiah confessed, "Woe is me. I am as good as dead. For I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips. And — I have seen the Lord. I have been brought face-to-face with almighty God.
This same frightening situation fell upon Peter right after the miraculous catch of fish — right after he realized that Jesus was indeed the almighty Lord of heaven and earth. Bowing his trembling face to the ground he cried out, "Depart from me Lord. For I am a sinful man."
No wonder why there are too many people — even a week before Christmas — who want God to stay away — to stay out of their lives and the decisions they have made. Their own lifestyle of convenience. Their playing fast and loose with God's revealed will and commands.
So "Immanuel" can bring terror and fear and eternal death just as easily as it can bring comfort and hope. "Immanuel" — God-with-us — can be God-with-us in wrath and judgment. We see this in the poor, miserable conditions surrounding Jesus' birth and especially our Lord's innocent suffering and death upon the Cross. God-with-us, to punish all sin and rebellion and disbelief. The disbelief of unbelieving Ahaz. The disbelief of a world that does not believe, will not believe that the Christ child has come from heaven to be born in the world's own poor and miserable manger, to take upon himself the world's own weakness and sin, to take upon himself the judgment Eve and Adam, Isaiah and Mary, Joseph and Peter and each of us rightly deserved.
Immanuel. God-with-us. Something we should dread if it is not in a way that hides the Lord's glory and covers his wrath.

But what else do we know about Jesus being given the name "Immanuel"? What is also revealed in that name "Immanuel" that makes it a comfort and joy for transgressors of God's holy will and law?

Well, we heard it clearly enough from the Old Testament and Gospel readings just a few minutes ago. From the mouth of God's holy prophet it is announced to believers and unbelievers alike:
… the LORD spoke to Ahaz, “Ask a sign of the LORD your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.” But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the LORD to the test.” And he said, “Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary men, that you weary my God also? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” (Isaiah 7:10-14 ESV)
To doubting, unbelieving King Ahaz the Lord gives a sign as deep as Sheol and high as heaven. A sign that is so indescribably great angels bow the knee in silent awe. An announcement so unbelievable only God-given faith can receive it. A prophecy that trumpets the fulfillment of all salvation history in a way we could have never imagined: "The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel."
And, if you will believe it, this Word of the Lord spoken out of the mouth of Isaiah the prophet is fulfilled as another heaven-sent messenger comes to confused, anxious, fearful Joseph and says:

“Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20b-21 ESV)

The reason for the name to be given is made clear for Joseph and Mary and for you and me and your yet-to-believe neighbor down the street. "For this son, this son of David, this son of Mary has been sent — not to judge or condemn or terrorize but — to save his people from their sins."
Jesus; Divine Savior. Jesus; Divine Savior from sin. Jesus; Divine Savior of all — of every tribe and language and nation and people. Jesus; the second person of the Godhead come to rescue us from our inability to save ourselves, come to to redeem the Advent and Christmas season, come to to atone for our own transgressions against God and against our neighbor-in-need.
For, by faith, we believe what the world and our own worldly nature will never believe: Mary's son is David's Son is God's only-begotten Son. Come to save from sin. God in human flesh and blood. Here. For you and for your salvation. Here. As once-for-all sacrifice. As our all-righteous substitute.
Only by faith can we really sing: "O come, O come, Immanuel. God-with-us. God-for-us and for our salvation.
Immanuel. What a beautiful name. Amen

Is that Opportunity Knocking? (Matthew 21:1-11)

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear beloved in Christ:
"Opportunity knocks." That's the tag line on an annual car commercial on television. "It's opportunity knocking!"
The message? You only have a limited amount of time to take advantage of something really special. If you wait, it will be too late. Too late for the joy of knowing you seized the day and grabbed that one special thing before it walked on down the hall to knock on someone else's door.
And so we take that saying about opportunity knocking to heart and begin all our preparations for Christmas Day. Just try to list everything you are doing or have done or need to do so that December 25th will come in the way you want. Just think of all the things on your "to do" list.
If we're honest, it is a list that part of us believes will lead to a perfect Christmas.
But, when we sit down and think about it, it's a burdensome list and an unending list. The shopping for just the right things. The preparations around the house. The decorations. The special plates and silverware and scented candles and the train set. And the other decorations and the lights. And the invitations and the Christmas cards and letters and photographs. And the cleaning. And what ever happened to that little Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer sculpture that plays the Chipmunk's Christmas songs whenever it detects someone has come into the room? That needs to be found and put in its proper place as well.
"Opportunity is knocking," we tell ourselves as we begin the frenzied Christmas dance that will not end until we realize that it is Christmas Eve or Christmas Day and the door finally shuts and opportunity leaves for good — until it begins again next year.
Well, maybe this year you have everything under control. You've made you lists and checked them — not once or twice — but six times. You've had your Christmas letters ready to go since June. You know just the right gift for everyone — family and friends, and even the mailman and hairdresser — and you got them all at 30% off.
There's where the true joy of Christmas is to be found — isn't it? In seizing the day and accomplishing everything that we've decided needs to be done in order to make Christmas Day Christmas Day. The true joy of Christmas: knowing in your heart that you've made it the best Christmas ever.
But then there's that knock on the door. And it isn't Mr. Opportunity. It isn't anyone on your invitation list. It isn't anyone you expected or planned for.
It's some ordinary-looking Jewish guy with a donkey who you just know will come in and ruin everything.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Matthew, the 21st chapter:
Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying,
“Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold! [Rejoice!], your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’”
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and he sat on them. Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” (Matthew 21:1-10 ESV)
The religious leaders in Jesus' day believed that the Passover holiday in Jerusalem was unfolding very nicely without Jesus showing up and spoiling everything. They had things quite under control. The ATM machines were all set up around the temple, the money-changers were ready to do their work. Thousands of holiday merry-makers were traveling to Jerusalem to do their holiday things and spend their holiday money. Despite the presence of the Roman soldiers, these religious leaders truly believed they had everything in hand. They had seized the day and all their preparations would now bear abundant fruit.
And then this guy from Nazareth with a donkey shows up. And they know now everything they had put their trust in is in danger of being eclipsed by the coming of this man who claims to be the Word of heaven itself. With the unexpected coming of this lowly servant king, all their planning and preparations could now very well go down the drain.
All that they had invested. All that they had done. All that they had accomplished. All they had sacrificed to make this the most special day of the entire year — and now this Jesus shows up believing he is the center and fulfillment of the day. Believing he is the source of true joy and peace for all who would celebrate that "day of arrival" just around the corner.
And so the religious leaders seized the day by grabbing a hold of Jesus. This was the opportunity they had really been looking for. With the dissatisfaction of Judas, they had found their one opportunity to silence this uninvited troublemaker and do away with him once and for all.
Jesus just shows up, seemingly unannounced. And he shows up in the most unspectacular way, among lambs and goats and cattle and donkeys and the rude furnishings of a cold and lowly manger.
So much for the world's excitement about the coming king. No media attention. No 30% off salvation, today only sale.
Jesus' gift in these days before Christmas? A season of simple promise — for every one of us. A word of promise that the world will never put its trust in. The promise announced by the prophets of old until Christ comes on that last day. A promise that says that trusting in Christ's Word, this life is a life of waiting, but waiting in expectant joy for our Lord to redeem the day.
The Savior will come and save us — from our weakness and sin and misplaced worry about attempting to make Christmas a big success.
The Savior will come and save us — from even our own inability to create true, lasting joy on our own.
In this peculiar season of Advent, rejoice! For the Savior comes to give the gifts of salvation: the gift of sins forgiven, the gift of contentment and peace — and even a little joy — as we wait — patiently, trustingly — for our coming king.
Joy for you and me and for all who are waiting to hear of a Christ and a Cross that gives true peace — that peace that surpasses all human understanding.
And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.” (Matthew 21:1-11 ESV)
In expectant joy, may we join the voice of all the faithful as we wait for the coming of our king, waiting to shout, "Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest."
God in his mercy and grace grant each of us a blessed — a joyful — advent of our king.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

"Living in the Last Days." (Luke 21:5-28)

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

Dear Redeemed in Christ:
Someone was reading the National Enquirer next to me in the grocery store check-out line. The cover story was about the birth of a cat with one eye and two tails. "We are living in the last days." she said to herself out loud.
But we don't need the National Enquirer or Trinity Broadcasting Network or Hal Lindsay or Pat Robertson to reveal to us some secret knowledge that we are now in the last days.
Because, believe it or not, it is the devil, the world and our own sinful flesh that is all wrapped up in predictions and date-setting when it comes to the last day. The great and terrible day of the Lord of the heavenly armies. The final day. The final end of this poor and miserable, falling apart world, plagued with sin and death and the effects of sin and death: earthquakes and storms. Violence and wars. The killing of the innocent. The persecution of the one, holy, Christian and apostolic Church. Famine — especially famine of the Word of God.
What will mark the last days? The prophet Amos has already told us and anyone else who will listen:
“Behold, the days are coming,” declares the Lord GOD, “when I will send a famine on the land—not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, to seek the word of the LORD, but they shall not find it.” (Amos 8:11-12 ESV)
A famine of the Word of the Lord. Do we see this today, even among church bodies that grew out of the re-discovery of the Gospel of grace through Martin Luther 500 years ago? Do we see a famine of God's saving Word today —when more and more pastors and priests have no understanding of the distinction between the Law and the Gospel, no skill in telling the difference between command and promise, between Moses and Christ, between the sacrifice of salvation and the sacrifice of thanksgiving?
"We are living in the last days."

Jesus himself said as much as he says to all who would follow him in faith: "Beware. Be aware of what will come."
“See that you are not led astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is at hand!’ Do not go after them. And when you hear of wars and tumults, do not be terrified, for these things must first take place, but the end will not be at once.” (Luke 21:8b-9 ESV)

What marks the last days? A famine of God's redeeming Word. A continuous parade of false Messiahs who lead many astray. And increasing numbers of Christians who trade in their hunger and thirst for the Word of Christ in Scripture, the Word of Christ at the font and altar for something completely different: an insatiable appetite for the daily details by those who promise they have been given by God's spirit the ability to prophecy the specifics on when the last day will come.
Jesus' warning is the same for the Twelve as it is for us today. "Stay awake and do not go after those who announce they have an inside track on the all the juicy details of when the last day will come."

The last day will surely come. We pray that it will come soon. But woe to the one who neglects the saving object of true faith while running around in fear and excitement mesmerized by the dead-end desire to figure out if the last day will be next Tuesday or a month from last Wednesday.
Think of the time wasted. Think of all the energy diverted into a never-ending death spiral of numbers and nations, secret meanings and signs, disasters and conspiracy theories that attempt to convince you and everyone else that the last day is just around the corner — and only those who are smart enough and spiritual enough will be able to discern the secret writing on the wall. Think of the damage done to true faith.

Folks, let me tell you a secret. The Christian Church has been in the last days since Herod sent his soldiers to kill the baby Jesus. Since John the Baptist was thrown into prison and executed. Since Stephen was stoned and Saint Jude flayed alive. Since Jan Hus was burned at the stake.
Because ever since the advent of our Lord upon the earth, the body of Christ, the Church has been marked by rejection and betrayal, marked by imprisonment and false witnesses and kangaroo courts, marked with innocent suffering and death. All in anticipation of that great and terrible day of the Lord about which no one knows the hour or the day — except God the Father alone.

Do you find yourself all wrapped up in the latest predictions of how the headlines in the morning paper and the top story on the six o'clock news are secret signs that the last day is just around the corner?
Do not be deceived. Christ calls us to take our eyes and our worries off the latest rumors and prophecies and get them back where they should have been in the first place: on the Christ of Scripture, on the Christ of the Baptismal Font, on the Christ of the Holy Supper.
That's where our eyes and ears and attention should be in these last days. That's where our eyes and ears and attention must be in these last days.
Remember what Martin Luther is supposed to have said when asked what he would do if he knew tomorrow was the last day? Sell all his possessions? Climb up the tallest mountain and wait for the Lord there? Luther said, "I would simply plant an apple tree."
What would we do if we knew tomorrow was the last day? Simply do whatever God has called us to do every day, at school, in the garden, at work, in our homes, at our church.
Give the loudest and clearest witness to each other and to the world around us — by gathering around our Lord each and every day in this time of extended grace before the end finally comes.
And if tomorrow is our last day, then let us live today under God's Word and forgiveness and grace and strength. Receiving courage for the hours that lie ahead by remembering the eternal promise made by Christ at our Baptism. By coming to the altar rail with repentant and contrite hearts. By listening to Christ as he comes in the readings of Scripture, in the sermon, in Sunday School and Confirmation class. And by caring for one another as we have been called to do.

This morning God in Christ through the Holy Spirit has given us a new day, that we might freely confess our sins, receive forgiveness and the assurance that Christ is Lord of the Last Day just as he is Lord of his Church and the redemption of each of us. Everything in heaven and on earth and under the earth is destined to bow the knee before him.
And nothing — not even the Last Day — will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Not even our unhealthy fascination and secret fears about how this dark and dying world will end.
And for the Christian faithful — for you and me — the promise that Christ is our gracious Lord is enough for today, and every day that God graciously gives us.
We live in the last days. But we live under God's mercy and the gracious Word of Christ.
Let us rejoice and be glad in that revelation. As we daily honor those in authority over us. As daily we live as responsible citizens of this land. As we freely serve our neighbor-in-need. As we sing the praises of Christ and his Cross to anyone who will listen.
In these last days, let us commend ourselves to our Lord's loving care as we daily put our trust in his suffering and death and resurrection.

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

The Unappreciative Redeemed (Luke 17:11-19)

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

Last week we heard that it is the grace of Christ alone that can create and sustain a spirit of servanthood in our Christian life. A servanthood that freely responds to God's gift of salvation by serving God and neighbor without thought of reward or personal merit. As we heard our Lord say last Sunday morning, true, Christ-like service responds with the words, "We have only done what was our duty."
But today's readings from Holy Scripture somehow remind me of the golden rule each of us were taught as little kids: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Use your common sense about what behavior you would desire from others when dealing with your neighbor. Everyone likes to be recognized and appreciated and listened to. Everyone likes to be treated with fairness and honesty. Everyone likes relationships that benefit themselves as well as others.
And so we go through life trying to be nice to others — at least in public — at least some of the time. We hold the door open at the store for old men with canes. We are polite with the person in front of us at the post office. We wait our turn at the DMV. We even try to be friendly with people we don't know much about as we wait to get out of the sanctuary after Sunday morning service. Because we've all been told: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
Christians remind themselves of the Golden Rule. They put these words on stickers and toys and Christian story books for children.
Others who follow Confucius remind themselves of the Silver Rule (it's kind of the Golden Rule in reverse): "Don't do to others what you would not want them to do to you."
That means, if you don't want to be kicked in the shins - don't kick anyone in the shins. If you don't want to be beaten up on the playground, don't beat anyone up on the playground. If you don't want to be cut off on the freeway don't cut off people on the freeway. If you want your pencil back without teeth marks on it, don't start chewing on a pencil you borrowed from a friend.
These are great and indispensable rules to live by. They help keep everything from getting out of hand. They keep the speed of our cars in check. They help keep arguments from becoming fist-fights. They keep our outward behavior in check - in our homes and at our school and in the workplace and in our apartment building. They keep order when we find ourselves stuck between floors in a crowded elevator or in the middle of a 50% off sale at Target or around the family dinner table after having a personally long or difficult day at work or school.
But there's another kind of rule we often find ourselves living by. It sometimes seems to be quite reasonable. One of those "common sense" kinds of dictums that even Ben Franklin would follow: "Show kindness and grace to those who will acknowledge it. Show love and mercy and forgiveness to those who appreciate it. Be kind and loving to those who will return the favor."
But this proverb comes from the wisdom of a fallen world and the world's religions and our own worldly nature. "Give it out only when there's some guarantee that you'll get at least some of it back. Why give of yourself when it's not appreciated and returned?"
You probably know someone who uses this approach as their secret guideline in making decisions about who they will allow into their life and who they won't allow into their life. What they will do for one person, and what they just won't do for another.
The world tells us: "Invest where you can get the greatest return." And there's a part of each of us that takes this kind of wisdom to heart — when we're dealing with the stock market — when we're shopping for a personal savings account — when we're evaluating our friendships and family.
Too often this is our approach when it comes to showing concern and mercy and grace and forgiveness and care to others. "Where am I going to get the biggest bang for my buck?" we secretly ask ourselves. "Who's going to appreciate me the most? Who's going to give me the nicest thank you card? Who's going to tell everyone else what a great and glorious person I am? Where am I going to get the loudest applause?" Because a part of each of us wants to live a life of guaranteed returns on our investment — guaranteed returns on our investment in the lives of others.
For example, take the self-help section of your neighborhood Barnes and Noble. Dollars to donuts you'll see more than one paperback that will walk you through the logic and rewards and strategies of avoiding or eliminating all of those hard-to-get-along-with people in your life that drain you of energy or make your life so frustrating. You'll find books with titles like: "Twelve Steps to End Letting Others Take Advantage of You." "Your Right to Enjoy Your Life Your Way." and "How to Make Everyone in Your Life Appreciate You."
Yes, each of us have become a little defensive in our old age. We've reached out with love and concern for others and have been quickly disappointed or hurt.
And that's where God in Christ Jesus through the Holy Spirit begins to show us that there are no guarantees in this world of sin. There are no secret formulas when it comes to others appreciating the good we think we have said and done.
Because we too have been less than appreciative. We also have found ourselves unable or unwilling to give back — sometimes even a little in response to the good God has given us through others.
The Holy Scriptures shines the spotlight on the chilling reality that when it comes to a lack of proper appreciation — when it comes to a lack of responding to kindness with kindness and grace with grace and forgiveness with forgiveness and sacrifice with sacrifice, all fallen children of our first parents are caught red-handed.
We decide to un-invite Uncle Fred to our Thanksgiving Day dinner because he never stops complaining about his health conditions. We only go out to lunch with those who never criticize us or always laugh at our jokes. We neglect opportunities to cultivate a relationship with our neighbor down the street who once complained about our dog barking or the time we left the garbage cans out on Friday.
And then we hear the words of our Lord. Not only the words about the golden rule, but the words from the lectern this morning:

On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:11-19 ESV)

Christ does the unexpected, unreasonable, illogical thing as he journeys to Jerusalem: he heals diseased people who had lost the ability to properly appreciate the Messiah or his healing work as a foretaste of the great healing he was to accomplish when he finally reached Jerusalem.
Christ comes and speaks a word of healing and restoration — independent of any thought about which among the ten would give back a goodly amount of praise and thanksgiving.
Why couldn't Jesus just have stuck with the playbook the fallen world and our old, fallen nature follows? Why couldn't Jesus just come and announce: I have come to give you a bit of forgiveness, a sprinkle of grace, and piece of salvation — to see what you will do with it. How much you will make of it. And then, if you appreciate me enough, I might give you a little more.
What does Christ give to unappreciative people? A trial size dose of salvation?
Thanks be to God that, as we hear in the Epistle this morning, even when we are unfaithful, Christ is faithful — to his heavenly Father, to his mission to redeem the world, and to his eternal promises.
Jesus journeyed to Jerusalem to give all. To give all he was and all he had not simply for those who might pay it all back.
Jesus laid down his very life for all. For all ten lepers. For you and me and every other unappreciative person who couldn't even begin to save themselves from the disease of not thanking God enough, not serving their neighbor enough, not trusting in our will-do-whatever-it-takes-to-redeem-us Lord.
Christ died for the sins of the whole world. Christ died for the sin of an unthankful heart, that he would resurrect proper appreciation in the hearts and minds of all who would believe.
Do you find a song in your heart for all the gifts given to you by Christ Jesus through his cross and tomb? Do you find yourself praising God for the cleansing waters of Holy Baptism? Do you find yourself hungering for his Supper from his altar?
Then give thanks for even that gift. Because it is Christ who gets credit for your ability to honor and bless and praise him.

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

"Pray and let Christ worry." Luke 12:22-28

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

Dear Children of the Heavenly Father:

Psalm 27: "The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?"

There's something inevitable in our lives in addition to death and taxes: fear. One minute we confess that worry and fear plague us, and the next minute we have convinced ourselves that those things that keep us up at night are best handled by joining Bobby McFerrin as he sings, "Don't worry. Be happy."
A life of fear, an anxious heart, and endless days of worry about everything and nothing. This is our lot since our first parents took that first big bite into knowledge of good and evil and the unending heartache that came along as a special added bonus.
Life in a world of thistles and thorns where food is provided by the sweat of our brow and the knowledge that clothes and shoes and house and car and all the other stuff of this world unexpectedly breaks or slowly but inevitably wears out. Including our health and the ability to be independent masters of our own fate. Our position at the company is suddenly eliminated. Someone in our family no longer will talk to us. The bank sends a registered letter to announce that they are foreclosing on the house. The kids need braces and we haven't even started to think about a savings plan for college or our own retirement. And what we could do with our bodies ten years ago takes four ibuprofen to do today.
And we worry and pop another antacid or try to loose ourselves in a worry-free life of listening to music in the car or watching a movie in the den or preoccupying ourselves with our sports teams or creating a life free from fear somewhere on the internet.
We are children of fallen and sinful parents who perpetually bounced between denial of fear and fear that overtook them and overwhelmed them and threatened to suffocate them. With their son murdered and their other son on the lamb, with paradise lost and death and decay set in motion as the fruit of doubt and disobedience, for Adam and Eve everything, it seemed, was out of their control.
The history of mankind, the history of fallen men and women, our entire history — is one of fear and anxiety and our feeble little attempts to contain and subdue and control it and — if none of that worked — pretend that it simply didn't exist.
Sin's fruit? The consequences of doubt in God's grace and goodness as our heavenly Father who always has our best interests in mind. The dread of coming face-to-face with everything that is out of our hands. Things that are the consequence of our own foolishness and rebellion. Things that are the consequence of simply living in a fallen world ultimately helpless in its attempts to reverse the forces of death and decay and re-create the security of that Paradise lost.
And so, even for us as Christians, fear desires to rule our minds and hearts and lives. The constant drumbeat of anxiety more often than not gets the best of us as it drowns out the quiet whisper of God's promise — the pledge made to Eve and Adam and all their children.
It's really an eye-opening exercise to mark the entire history of salvation by noting the hundreds of places in the Holy Scriptures where we come upon the word "fear." Worry and anxiety is all over the place when we hear about the lives of the faithful who have gone before us. People like Abraham and Daniel and Jacob and David and Joseph. The people of Judah. The people of Israel. Zechariah and Mary and Peter. Fallen and sinful people — just like you and me — plagued by fear and haunted by anxiety over the things of this life.
It is to these preoccupied, burdened, sleep-deprived people that Jesus speaks as he journeys to Jerusalem and the Cross.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twelfth chapter:
And [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!" (Luke 12:22-28 ESV)

A simple and direct command by the Lord come in human flesh: "Do not be anxious about your life."
Yes, we are to be responsible in using the good talents and energies and opportunities our Lord gives us to provide for the needs of this life and our neighbor-in-need. Jesus is not commanding his own to live a life free of responsibility to ourselves, our family, our church family, and our community.
We cannot misuse Jesus' command here to announce to the world: "O.K. No more worries!" and then sell everything we have, quit our job, walk away from our school, abandon our family and let the church or the government take care of all our needs while we sit back and do nothing.
It is in the context of our labor — the hard work of providing for our needs and the needs of our neighbor that we hear Jesus say to us, "Don't be anxious about your life."
Jesus would have us acknowledge our sin and weakness and worry as we — at the same time — remember his Word — his Word that freely gives anxious people peace — his Word that freely gives fearful people strength and courage. His Word that has the last word over all the stuff of our lives we cannot control.
It is to the voice of our Lord we flee when we are at our wits end. The voice of our Lord through the apostle Paul who proclaims to worry-sick souls: "He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for us all, will he not with him also give us everything else [we need]?" (Romans 8:32)
Our Lord Christ knows that we are anxious, nail-biting people. And only he comes to help us see our fears as they really are, that he might embrace them and take them into himself and make them his own.
Where do we go? Where do we run to find help with our stressed-out minds and anxious hearts?
We follow Abraham who answered the worries of his only-begotten son Isaac as they journeyed up the mountain:
And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son. And he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So they went both of them together. And Isaac said to his father Abraham,“My father!” And he said,“Here am I, my son.” He said,“Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham said, “God will provide …, my son.” (Genesis 22:6-8a ESV)

By the gift of God's grace, we place the brokenness and decay and uncertainties of life into the hands of our Creator and Redeemer and Sustainer and trustingly say, as Martin Luther use to say, "Pray and let God worry."
Looking to our crucified and risen Lord, we pray:

O most loving Father, you want us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing except losing you, and to lay all our cares upon you, knowing that you care for us. Strengthen us in our faith in you and your Word of promise. Grant that the fears and anxieties of this mortal life may not separate us from your love that is in Christ Jesus, your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

Preoccupied with the Word. (Luke 10:38-42)

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed in Christ:
Imagine you are in line in a store with someone who replies to the question, "What do you do for a living?" with the answer, "I'm an investor."
Do you give this person a hug or a punch in the stomach? What thoughts and images run through your mind?
Is this an investor in pork futures or the stock market?
Is this an investor in gold bullion or junk bonds?
Some of us have been badly burned by investors. We are still trying to recover from the investments they proclaimed. We have become weary of anyone telling us to place all our eggs in their basket of opportunity for guaranteed returns.
But even if we turn and run when we are solicited to invent in a company or a product or a commodity or a financial derivative, we are all investors — even if we still hide 20 dollar bills in our mattress.
We are creatures who were created — wired — to invest in something — in someone.
The almighty maker of heaven and earth made us — to trust, to serve, to follow, to invest not only in the NASDAQ, but in the Almighty himself and the work of his hands (this world given to us to manage as responsible, thankful stewards).
And so we see ourselves and all those around us as investors who put their stock in some things that are "good, right and salutary" and some things that are deceptive, dangerous, and even deadly.
Look around. Some in our lives have invested themselves in saving the planet. Others have invested themselves in supporting the crown of creation by advancing medicines for smallpox and AIDS and malaria around the world.
But what about you? What do you find yourself investing in? Take a look at your calendar. Take a look at your checkbook. Take a look at how you spend your time and energy. Take stock of what would be the most devastating thing to loose.
What do you find yourself invested in?
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the 10th chapter:
Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him 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 10:38-42 ESV)
Martha had given in to investing in the things we are also tempted to give in to: the promise that if we are busy enough with our family, if we are busy enough with our kids, if we are busy enough with our friends or work — then we will earn for ourselves God's unending praise and a bigger crown in heaven than our neighbor down the street.
"But Martha was distracted with much serving."
Maybe it's happened to you recently as you extended an invitation to a family member, an across-the-street neighbor, a co-worker, a friend to join you for a Bible study here at Redeemer. "Oh, I would love to come." is the response. "But I'm so busy. I have to …" and then the un-ending list of this world's demands.
That's where Martha had ended up. The "have to's" of her life. The "have to's" of being the perfect host for Jesus and his salvation.
Maybe this morning you find yourself caught up in the un-ending "have to's" of life. The list that never gets shorter. The demands that never stop telling you it's all about your serving and your doing and your investing in your friends and work, in your family and your church family — and in your Savior and Lord.
Yes, we are called to serve our families. Yes, we are called to serve our community and friends. Yes, we are called to serve Christ and our neighbor-in-need. But as Martha learned the hard way, investing — serving others — must take its proper place.
Because God in Christ calls us first to be preoccupied at the feet of Jesus. To hear and receive in a quiet and strong confidence his Word.
And that's something our old, fallen, all-about-me nature can't do, and will never do, and will always fight against.
What's the difference between the true, gracious, saving Gospel of Jesus Christ and the empty, imitation gospels of the world and all the world's religions?
That life-changing difference is to be seen in Mary's God-given understanding that when it comes to salvation's investment, the true Gospel, the real Messiah — redemption revealed by God in his Holy Word — it's all about — will always be about — God's own, from the heart, investment in you.
God invested all that he had in you, despite your fallen, rebellious, have-to-have-it-my-way nature. Despite your lack of understanding when it comes to how salvation actually works. Despite your daily transgressions against him and your neighbor.
Christ — his perfect life and sacrificial death in you place — is God's great and gracious investment in you, and the person sitting next to you and the person down the street from your home that is sleeping in this morning.
God gave up. God gave over. God handed over his precious, only-begotten Son into the hands of evil men — for you and your salvation. No pre-salvation negotiations or deal-making. God invests in you - simply because that is the kind of gracious, merciful, "always more willing to forgive than we are to ask for forgiveness" God he is.
With the eyes of faith, Mary sees that. She is content with that. She is quietly confident in believing that in Jesus and his redeeming Word, she is, right there and now, God's dear child and an heir of heaven — even when it comes to her response to his healing Word. That's why she keeps her eyes on her Lord and her ears open to his Word.
This morning Christ and his holy Word calls us to turn the table on the devil, the world and our old, sinful flesh and see Christ as God's saving investment, and his Cross, his sacrifice for us, his Word as our only comfort, our only certainty, our only solid rock and defense.
As weak and sinful people, we confess finding ourselves too often believing it's all about our service and our work and our investing that makes heaven smile upon us.
But Christ calls us to daily remember our Baptism and continue to sit at his feet.
Because without his abiding presence, without his life-changing Word, our homes are mere houses, our congregation is just a social club, and the Bible is just another handbook for moral living.
Without Christ and his Word, water at the font is only water. Bread and wine from the altar is just bread and wine. And Sunday morning is nothing but a parade of our great works.
Only when we respond in faith to the Word of Christ as he comes in the Scriptures, as he comes in Baptism, as he comes in his holy Supper, can we get a glimpse into heaven's take on being truly free to invest in, to serve our neighbor selflessly, for the sake of our neighbor.
Do you want to give something to Christ? Do you want to invest in his salvation? Then come and give him — your many sins. Because Christ and his Word is the only redemption that can never be taken from us.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Parade or Procession? Luke 7:11-17

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

Dearly beloved in Christ:

Processions. We've witnessed a lot of them in the last several weeks. Processions around the United States during Memorial Day observances. Processions here at Redeemer for the last two Sundays - to mark Pentecost and Holy Trinity Sunday. And this Tuesday there will be a procession to the polling places to commemorate election day here in California.
But processions are, by their very definition, different than mere parades. Processions are more somber, more intentional, more revealing about life in this world and the things we really believe in, especially when things aren't going the way we might want.
"Everyone loves a parade." We who live in and around Huntington Beach should understand that — in a community that prides itself on having the biggest parade in the United States. "Everyone loves a parade." Just take a look at the excitement during Mardi Gras.
But not everyone loves a procession. Because a procession forces us to face the reality of what we have become as fallen, weak, helpless, poor and miserable children of our first parents — our first parent who lost it all in their power grab for glory and prestige and the limelight of being the ones in charge and calling the shots.
Precisely because of humanity's fall into sin — our fall into sin — we now not only have parades, we have processions. Processions that give witness to a fallen and dying world. Processions that proclaim who we have become under the tyrants of sin, death and the devil. Processions that confess our inability to fix the mess we have gotten ourselves into.
For the last several weeks there has been a procession of those who's livelihood depended on the beaches and the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. A procession of trading in fishing nets for oil containment boom and chemical dispersant sprays. A constant witness to the feeble abilities of industry and government and society to provide a quick fix to the threatening forces in the world — the overwhelming forces in our lives and in the lives of those around us.
You see, processions in a world twisted and infected with sin are as old as our first parents. Take a look at the generations of God's people before the advent of Christ. Processions that wandered in the wilderness. Processions of chained captives being lead into Babylon. And processions of sacrifices to the Tabernacle and Temple to give witness to the need for a once-for-all redemption from the spiritual Pharaoh and his eternal grip on each of us.
Processions define us. Who we have become. And before Christ, what defined us was an endless procession of failure to love God, the maker of heaven and earth. Before Christ, what defined us was an endless procession of despair. A hopeless procession that trumpeted the seemingly unstoppable chorus of, "Dust you are, and to dust you shall return."
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the Seventh Chapter:

Soon afterward [Jesus] went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a great crowd went with him. As he drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and a considerable crowd from the town was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and “God has visited his people!” And this report about him spread through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country. (Luke 7:11-17 ESV)

We can't imagine a darker, more hopeless situation. The untimely death of the only-begotten son — of a woman who had already lost her husband, and with it her ability to adequately provide for her needs and the needs of her son. She has now lost her precious son. Her only means of support. Her last comfort and joy. She is left alone and grieving.
We can't imagine a more pitiful and heart-breaking situation. And neither could the townspeople of the little village of Nain. Their hearts went out to this woman lost in the poverty of her miserable situation. They process with her in silence — out of the town, out of the place of the living to the place of the lost, to the place of those taken by sin and the consequences of sin.
Yet, in the midst of hopelessness, in the midst of complete despair, in the midst of the seemingly unchangeable effects of death and disease, the most unlikely of men comes to put his hand on the situation and call all to follow him as he begins a procession only he can lead.
The procession our Lord Christ leads was what the patriarchs of old had put their trust in, what they, in faith, had always looked forward to. This is why Joseph had left instructions concerning his remains, that they would be prepared for the day Christ would lead his people out of Egypt to the Promised Land.
The coming of the procession of our Lord Christ is what Abraham and Isaac and Jacob held on to — in life and in death. This is the revelation announced by Elijah to the widow in Zarephath.
The advent of the Messiah's procession. This was the song of angels before prophets and shepherds outside Bethlehem.
Jesus begins a new procession. He said as much at the beginning of his public ministry before the people of Nazareth when read from the pulpit:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind;
To set at liberty those who are oppressed;
To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19 ESV)

Jesus stops a funeral procession in its tracks, and with his touch, with his "gives-everything-it-promises" Word, begins a new procession that leads dead and dying people back, into the land of liberty, the land of the Gospel, the land of God's eternal grace and favor.
This is the witness of the Christian Church until Christ comes again in all power and glory: everything has changed as our Lord Jesus turns around our procession — the march of fallen, sinful, dying people — and makes it his procession.
Jesus' calls out to all who will listen with the ears of faith: follow me. Follow my lead. Follow my way: from Bethlehem to the Jordan, from Nazareth to Nain, to the place of your redemption: to Jerusalem. To the Upper Room to the Mount of Olives. To Calvary.
That day Jesus confronted sin and the deadly consequences of sin. In touching the dead, Jesus proclaimed what we and all believers give witness to: Jesus was sent to lay aside the glories of heaven as he took upon himself our weakness and despair and grief over what we have done and what we have failed to do.
What is our witness as a Christian congregation? Get God to notice you by doing great things for him? Make a difference in the world and then God will bless your efforts? Surrender all and then God will give you everything you want?
Our witness continues to be simply a finger point to God's gift of grace, God's gift of faith, God's saving gift of his Word: his Word made manifest through prophets and apostles, and finally in the person of his very Son.
Who walked our road, who took upon himself our march to the grave, that we would be lead on a procession of life eternal.
Do you believe this morning that you are beyond God's grace and forgiveness? That because of your sin there might be forgiveness and restoration for other but not for you? Do you find yourself dead when it comes to turning your life around and living a holy and acceptable life under the Word of God?
Then look to Christ's procession.
A procession to the his Cross. A procession to the his Font. A procession to his Table. A procession to his unexpected way of salvation. In God-given trust, let Christ lead.
May Christ in his mercy continue his saving work in the places and times he has promised. And may Christ in his grace continue to give us as Christians — and as a Christian congregation — the ability to witness to the reality of the world's dead-end parades, and in the way of the Cross — Jesus' procession of Life. Amen

A Sermon for Good Friday (Isaiah 53:3-9)

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

We confess in the Creed the following: "He suffered, died and was buried." And in the Old Testament, Isaiah the prophet confesses these words: "By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgressions of my people? And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth." (Isaiah 53:8-9 ESV)
Some people just can't get themselves through the automatic glass doors of a hospital. They have no problem sending a card or a handful of flowers, but when given the opportunity to spend a few hours at the bedside of a seriously ill friend or relative, they'd rather have a root canal or their pinky chopped off. They just can't bring themselves to make a visit to the bed of those seriously ill. "I just wouldn't know what to say or do." they confess.
Good Friday is a lot like that. There's something in each of us that turns away and walks when we receive the invitation to come near our Savior and Redeemer as he hangs from a tree. A part of us asks, "Can't I just send a card or flowers?"
This evening there are plenty of people outside these walls who considered coming to services tonight. They told themselves, "I know it's Good Friday, and I should attend services to hear God's Word and give thanks for the gift of salvation won upon the cross of Calvary. But who wants to go visit someone on deathwatch? What would I say or do as I again hear about Jesus' agony — his shameful suffering and disgraceful death?
This day the sanctuary, the Scripture readings, the hymns, the pieces of cloth on the altar, everything — right down to the color of the candles — says, "Behold this one sinless, righteous man dying in the most shameful of ways for the sin of the world." And, in response, a part of us can't help but wait and watch, yet another part of us would much rather close our eyes and turn away.
Not only are two-thirds of the world's people today either completely ignorant or completely uninterested in "Good Friday," this day in the church year is observed by fewer and fewer Christians. "I only attend uplifting services." one person remarked, while another once told me in private, "I would come to services Friday but I just don't feel comfortable in asking my boss for time off to celebrate Jesus' death."
Well, obviously Christians and the Christian Church don't "celebrate" Jesus' suffering and death. We "commemorate" Jesus pouring out his life-blood upon the altar of the cross, we "observe" Good Friday, even if we haven't done as much as we could have to receive this day as a holy day — as Holy Friday. Even if we find ourselves unprepared to receive the gifts of this unique day of the Church Year. Even if we find ourselves like the three disciples in the garden:

And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.
And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour?" (Mark 14:32-37 ESV)

Nevertheless, the hour comes. The sacrifice has been chosen. The offering is willing. He has been washed and anointed for his one-of-a-kind mission. All is ready. He now stands at the entrance to heaven's sanctuary as he lays down his life for rebel sheep who love to stray — for rebel sheep who love to sleep — who love to stay away.
For Good Friday is good and holy and blessed, not because of our great attendance and our soul-stirring prayers or hymns during services. Good Friday is good, Holy Friday is holy, this blessed day is blessed on account of our Lord and his faithfulness to redeem a sinful world from its sin by the laying down of his very life. He brings his righteous, perfect life to God's heavenly altar — and we bring our sin, all we have done against God's will and law, all we have failed to do for the glory of God and our neighbor-in-need.
On this day our Lord Jesus completes the work he began at the manger, at the Jordan, in the garden — the work of securing for us the cup of salvation, the cup of forgiveness, the cup of redemption by taking to his lips the cup that had our names upon it — the cup of God's wrath and punishment.
Often we don't know what to do — what to say — when placed before the dying. And often we don't really know how to behave when it comes to Good Friday. Do we follow the world and simply deny it or ignore it or re-interpret it?
God in Christ through the Holy Spirit would sanctify this day as we are brought near the cross of Christ to watch and pray.
To watch and pray as our Lord does it all for us, on our behalf, in our place, just as Isaiah foretold:

He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:3-6)

Today is Good Friday, the darkest day of the church year — and yet, the most illuminating day of the church year — as we see the greatest revelation of God's wrath for sin — and, at the same time, as we see the greatest revelation of God's grace for an undeserving world.
In the hymn, "Were you there?" we are asked if we were there at Jesus' suffering and death upon the cross. And although we are separated from that pivotal event of salvation history by two thousand years ago and another continent, we can, in faith, believe that we were there — our sins were there as Jesus took his last breath to proclaim, "It is finished; it is complete; the debt of an entire rebel world is paid in full — for good."

A blessed Good Friday to each of you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Faith that Sings Back - Christmas Day (Psalm 98)

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

Dear Redeemed by Christ, the Word made Flesh:

Sing to the lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things. He has remembered his love and his faithfulness to the house of Israel. [And] all the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music. With trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn. Shout for joy before the Lord, the King. (Psalm 98)

One of the most crushing events anyone can ever experience is being asked by the director, after enthusiastically joining a choir, to only mouth the words while everyone else sings. Imagine being told: "We love having you in our choir — but please don't actually sing any of the words."
It is very unfortunate and it is completely disappointing because it is completely unnatural. Singing with nothing coming out of your mouth. It just shouldn't be because human beings were created to hear and take to heart — and then speak and sing.
That's why the Christian Church has always faithfully passed on the faith to the next generation through the Word of God spoken and preached and shared — and chanted and sung. It wasn't that many years ago when Grandpa would hand on his Bible to his son, and Grandma would hand on her hymnal to her daughter (in addition to both inheriting a well-worn copy of the Small Catechism).
But all of that seems to have changed these days — especially at Christmas. We have allowed those running the show to tell the faithful: "We love having you in the sanctuary — but please don't try to sing your faith — we have a praise band and a professional vocalist for that."
Five hundred years ago there was a reformation that not only put the Bible back into the hands of God's people, but the hymns of the Christian Church as well. By God's grace, Luther realized that faith wants to sing — true Christian faith needs to sing. No wonder one of the annual articles put out on the Reformation information table is titled: "If you sang a hymn in church this Sunday, thank Luther."
To a Church who thought song was the exclusive property of the monks and their choirs, the Reformation had something very definite to say. For faith — true Christian faith — cannot but sing back to God his Word and his Christ and his Font and his Table and his Birth, Death, his Resurrection and Ascension into heaven.
In this sanctuary this morning the Word of God spoken and sung is not the exclusive property of Italian-speaking opera singers or Latin-speaking monks and nuns. The song of Christmas comes from Prophets and Angels and Apostles — to God's people — to change hearts and strengthen faith as it returns back to heaven. Salvation through our ears and through our hearts and minds and then through our mouths back to God and to our neighbor.
That was the way it went in the days of great King David and in the days when shepherds who hadn't taken a music lesson in their life sang to all who would listen on the way back from the manger. (I wouldn't be surprised if, upon their return, the shepherds sang of Emmanuel in the manger even to their sheep.) And this is the way it will be in these last days before our Lord comes back in all power and glory leading heaven's armies upon his war horse to bring a final end to sin and death — to gather all believers in him, that we might sing his praises before his heavenly throne for all eternity.
On this, Christmas Day, true faith wants to listen to the Word of God and then sing — sing to God and sing to anyone else who will listen — about the deep despair of living in sin, cut off from God and from his grace by our rebellious thoughts, words, and deeds — about the poverty of our silly attempts to reconcile ourselves to the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth — about God's own answer to our estrangement and pitiful inability to redeem ourselves or anyone else in the sending of his most precious gift: his only-begotten Son.
On this day, Christmas Day, faith looks to do nothing else but listen to the Word of God — in, with, and through the prophets and apostles, in, with, and through the water of baptism, in, with, and through the bread and wine of the altar — and then, in a trust and joy and confidence that the world knows nothing about — sing back to heaven and earth.
In the manger, God is bringing all things to their fulfillment. He is putting into motion redemption that will bring the Son of God and Mary's Son from the donkeys of Christmas Day to the donkey of Palm Sunday, from the wood and nails of a manger to the wood and nails of a cross, from the cold and dark of a stable cave to the cold and dark of a tomb, that sin would be atoned for, that you might be bought back through the sacrifice of this holy, spotless Lamb of God.
This is the song of the angels. This is the singing faith of the shepherds. This is your song and my song. And we will sing it only as long as we keep our ears close to the Word of God — the Word of God made man.
Speak the Good News. Share the Good News. Sing with the angles and all of creation the Good News of Christmas morn: "Glory to God in the highest, and his saving peace on all upon whom his favor rests."
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Christmas Eve - The Antiphons of Advent - The Desire of Nations

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

Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ:

From the Prophet Isaiah, the 66th chapter:

The Lord declares: “ ... the time is coming to gather all nations and tongues. And they shall come and shall see my glory, and I will set a sign among them." (Isaiah 66:18-19 ESV)

We hear it especially during the Christmas season: words of regret and longing and desire that the entire family would be together — around the tree and around the table. Sometimes it is said in whispers and other times it is shouted from the rooftops: "If only the entire family could be together — at the table and under the tree."
For some of us it will be a difficult Christmas because it will be an unfulfilled Christmas. Someone won't be there to cook the roast or string the popcorn or help put another log on the fire or tell a story or join in song.
In spite of all the shopping, in spite of all the wrappings and fancy sparkling things of Christmas, tonight too many of us here will have a Christmas with a loved one absent.
One example comes from my friend from Cambodia. A refugee of a war-torn nation, his family fled the killing fields. Some relatives were killed, others taken prisoner, still others later rescued from a small boat off the coast. But in that rescue, he was separated from his brothers and sisters and parents. Each individual family member who survived the atrocities of civil war was scattered by the relief agencies to different parts of the world: he was sent to Detroit, Michigan. A brother was sent to Tokyo, Japan. Another, Paris, France. His parents to Southern California. A family persecuted and scattered. A household fragmented and broken.
To come together and rejoice around one table, around one tree: this is the desire of so many people — not only on this day of the year, but on every day of the year.
Do you have a secret desire as you come to the Christmas Table, as you come to the Christmas Tree this year? What do you long for — who do you long for — in the still of this night?
What desire is left unfulfilled after all the glitter and tinsel of the world's spin on Christmas? The desire to be with an absent loved one? The hope-against-hope longing to be reconciled with another who can't be — won't be — with you to enjoy the food and gifts of Christ under his tree?
The great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" and the ancient antiphons that inspired it, reflect the biblical revelation that is just as true this year as it was thousands of years ago: the world, the nations of the world, peoples and families around the globe come to Christmas with desires that they just cannot fulfill, despite all the legislation from Washington and all the declarations from Stockholm or Copenhagen. Despite all the resolutions by the United Nations, the nations are still — whether they dare to admit it or not — longing for that same peace and fellowship and community and family that we as the human race lost so long ago.
What do you long for — what do you desire — when you find yourself singing the words:

O, come, Desire of nations, bind / In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease, / And be Thyself our King of Peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel / Shall come to thee, O Israel!

Some things just can't be bought with a gift card or made right with just a New Years' resolution. Despite all our merry-making, all our attempts to drown-out that dark corner of our heart by just playing the holiday music a little louder or adding more lights to the porch or pouring in a little more peppermint schnapps into the punchbowl — try as we may — the deepest of longings of a fallen humanity are still with us — even on Christmas Eve.
Actually, if we are honest with ourselves — it is especially the light of Christmas Eve that brings to light our darkness, our longings, our unfulfilled desires and fears — as individuals, as families, as neighbors and friends, as citizens of a nation and the world.
You see, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is actually a public confession, a prayer set to music, sung to the Lord of heaven and earth. For when we sing the words of this beautiful Christian hymn, we give witness to the teaching of the Old and New Testament — the revelation that we are a broken, fragmented people who cannot make things around the Christmas Table and things around the Christmas tree like they should be, like they once were, like we wish them to be.
And so we despair of ourselves this Christmas night. We despair of our trying through our busyness and buying and bartering to make it all right, to redeem the darkness and hidden longing that comes with Christmas.
"O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is a great hymn for the Christmas season because it takes our eyes and preoccupations off self and puts them where all true desires are fulfilled: on the One who comes from heaven above, the One who is the true Desire of all families and peoples and nations, the One given the name Emmanuel — God-with-us-to-save.
The hymns of the Christian Church — the liturgy and readings of the Christian Church — announce again this night that there is a world of difference between simply making ourselves merry for a few days around Christmas and receiving, by God's undeserved grace, a blessed Christmas, a lasting Christmas, despite our losses, despite our weaknesses, despite our fallenness and sin and inability to create the Christmas Table and Christmas Tree we know we long for.
For the God-ordained scandal of Christmas Eve is something that flies in the face of everything we would have ever expected: the announcement from a cattle shed that gives that peace and that joy and that family and community that won't break a week later, won't run out of batteries a month from now, won't be traded in for another color or size or re-gifted and placed on the dollar table at a garage sale.
Hear the Word from heaven tonight: Emmanuel has come. The desire of the Nations and the Price of true Peace has come in this lowly, common-enough looking child in the straw of a Bethlehem manger. The savior of wandering shepherds and cynics. The redeemer of those oppressed by their sins and shortcomings. Emmanuel, God-with-us, come to deliver us, even from our fears of bearing the burden of another unfulfilled Christmas — another year of missing family and friends around tree and table.
For the Son of God and Mary's Son has come to do what all our will-power was always unable to do, what all the mistletoe and merry-making could never accomplish, what holiday wishes just couldn't make a lasting reality.
It is this Christ child who has been sent to set the table and decorate the tree. It is the baby Jesus who alone can bring the nations together around tree and table — his Table and his Tree.
For Christ is the true Manna from heaven. It is this one child who is, as Martin Luther use to say, the cook and the waiter and the meal at the true table of reconciliation. He prepares the table — his table, and feeds us with his very body and blood — forgiving sin, strengthening faith and establishing a communion — a holy and eternal communion with God and with each other.
Yes, Christ sets the table and gathers the peoples around it. He fashions the tree and draws the nations around it. For, as by a tree humanity fell into sin, so through a tree redemption for us has been won.
Jesus himself revealed the same when he foretold, "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32 ESV)
The true desire of all people, all nations, all families broken and scattered by sin has come hidden, wrapped in swaddling linens and laid in a manger.
What is needed to have a jolly Christmas is anyone's guess. But — as baptized Christians — what is necessary for a blessed Christmas? The table of Christ. The tree of Christ. God's gracious invitation. And the Word made flesh for you.