“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning, the commemoration of the circumcision and naming of our Lord, comes from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the sixth chapter of the book of Numbers. Dear friends in Christ, what do you think about the Benediction? To most people, the Benediction is not all that important. It seems nice for the pastor to send us home with a blessing, and it sounds like an appropriate way to end the service. That’s the key, isn’t it? The Benediction means that the service is almost over, it’s almost time to head home and relax. And so, where are your thoughts during the Benediction? Are you focusing on the words that the pastor is speaking, or are you thinking of lunch, a recliner, and a TV? A fellow pastor once told me that as he pronounced the Benediction, he actually saw one of his members using a remote to start his car. Most Christians think of the Benediction as an add-on, a signal that it’s time to go, a chance to think about the rest of the day. Of all the parts of the Sunday morning Divine Service, surely the Benediction is the least important.
But that’s not the way our Lord sees it. We learn in our Old Testament lesson this morning that the Benediction is quite ancient, thousands of years old, in fact. These words were given to Aaron and his sons by God Himself: “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, ‘Speak to Aaron and his sons, saying, “Thus you shall bless the people of Israel.”’” Though we are far removed from God’s wandering people in time and geography, we are still speaking these ancient words. But we don’t end every Sunday morning service with these words simply because they are ancient; dear friends in Christ, we don’t do anything in the Church because ‘that’s the way we’ve always done it!’ Those words have been used to justify a whole pile of bad practices in the history of the Church. That’s not why we worship the same way the Church has for centuries, that’s not why I dress the way I do on Sunday morning, and that’s not why still use Aaron’s Benediction. We do those things because they are good, right, and salutary, we do these things because the Church in her wisdom has handed them down to us, we do these things because they serve the Gospel.
God Himself tells us why the Benediction is so important at the end of our text. “So shall they put my name upon the people of Israel, and I will bless them.” With the Benediction, God places His Name upon us, and God’s Name can never be an insignificant thing. The Name of God declared the nation of Israel to be God’s people, His treasured possession. The Name of God placed upon this congregation in the Benediction declares that we are just as truly His people. His Name is powerful, for the Name of God brings with it the very presence of God. The Name of God brings to us all that God is and all that God gives. He placed that Name upon you in your Baptism, claiming you as His very own child, bestowing on you forgiveness, life, and salvation. Because you bear the Name of God, you will receive the inheritance God has prepared for you. The gifts of God are for His children, those who bear His Name.
And we bear God’s Name only because Jesus bore His. Every New Year’s Day the Church commemorates the circumcision and naming of Jesus. This seems like a pretty minor event, described in only one verse of Scripture, from Luke chapter two: “And at the end of eight days, when He was circumcised, He was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.” You wonder why Luke would even bother to include such an insignificant detail; every Jewish boy was circumcised and named on the eighth day. And that’s exactly the point. Jesus, born of a virgin, born as the Son of God, was placed under the Law as every other Jewish boy was. In fact, He was placed under the Law as every human being is under the Law. He was placed under the Law to keep it, to fulfill it on your behalf. Jesus didn’t get to skip any part of being human; while He was conceived by the work of the Holy Spirit, He was carried in the womb and born just like you and me. And then, on the eighth day, He was circumcised, placed under the authority of the Law. He would spend His life keeping that Law for you, living the perfect life that you were unable to, living a perfect life for you.
This was all to fulfill His Name. The angel told Joseph, “She will bear a son, and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” On the eighth day, that Name was placed upon the child born of a virgin, and He spent the rest of His life doing what that Name required, saving us from our sin. His circumcision teaches us how Jesus would do this. As we’ve already said, at His circumcision Jesus was placed under the Law, to fulfill it for us, to live the perfect life we couldn’t. And at His circumcision, Jesus shed His blood for the first time, pointing forward to His death on our behalf. A perfect life lived under the Law means nothing to us if the perfect and sinless one didn’t then die in our place. Jesus had to live the life we couldn’t, then He had to die the death that we deserved. Only in this way could He be our substitute, only in this way could He fulfill His Name. He was born to save His people from their sins, and His shed blood would accomplish that great task. The child who would shed His blood to fulfill the Law on His circumcision day would shed His blood on Good Friday to fulfill all of the Law for you.
You bear God’s Name only because Jesus bore His, fulfilling His Name by saving His people from their sins. He rose again on Easter morning to prove it, to declare His victory on your behalf. The Law has been fulfilled; it can no longer accuse you. Sin has been eliminated; Christ paid what you owed with His own blood. Death has been defeated; Christ’s resurrection will one day be yours. All this is given to you through the Name of God. This Name is God’s gift to you only because of Jesus. You are a child of God because the Son of God died for you, as Saint Paul writes: “For in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” The Name of God is never insignificant, because when you bear it, you are marked as one of God’s people, as one redeemed by Christ the crucified. Everyone who bears God’s Name through baptism inherits all the good things that He gives through Christ’s life, death, and resurrection.
In the Benediction, the Lord pours out in abundance all the gifts that Christ won for you. God said to Moses, “So shall they put my name upon the people of Israel, and I will bless them.” You bear God’s Name only because Jesus bore His, and those who bear God’s Name are blessed. The first phrase of the Benediction, “The Lord bless you and keep you,” speaks of God’s protection in the midst of all that threatens your faith. Your belief in Christ is attacked in so many ways in this world of sin: by the media, by your friends, by your family, by the doubts that fill your mind. The Benediction promises that God will not leave you nor forsake you. You are His child, and He will work each and every day to strengthen your faith through the power of His Word.
The second phrase, “The Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you,” declares the forgiveness won by Christ. God’s face was turned away from you because of your sin, He held only wrath for His beloved people, for a holy God couldn’t abide the presence of sin. You and I deserved death and hell for our transgressions. But God didn’t turn away from you, He turned away from Christ on the cross, letting Jesus suffer His wrath in your place. Now, God looks on you in love because of Jesus; He will show you grace and favor because His Son died and rose again for you. He shines His face toward you, giving you grace and favor through the forgiveness of sins, poured out in abundance here in this place through water and Word, Body and Blood.
The final phrase of the Benediction, “The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace,” points us to Christmas and Easter. In those twin events peace was won, peace between God and man, the only peace that matters. The very last word of the Divine Service is ‘peace,’ the same word declared by the angels to the shepherds, the same word declared by Jesus as He showed to His disciples His hands and side. Peace is hard to come by in this world; in fact, it seems impossible. But the Benediction gives to you the peace that passes all understanding, the peace that is everlasting, the peace that endures despite all that happens in this world. God sends you from this place in peace.
The Benediction isn’t just a nice way to end the service, nor is it simply a wish by the pastor that things would go well this week. No, the Benediction is the declaration of the living God that He has blessed you through the sacrifice of His Son. With these words, God places His Name upon you once again, sending you out from this place as His child, as one of those claimed by the blood of Jesus. His Word does what it says; the Benediction gives you all the benefits that Christ won through the cross and empty tomb. Cling tightly to every word of promise that God gives there, for these words are for you, one who bears the Name of God through you baptism into Christ. There is a reason that a pastor proclaims the Benediction at a sickbed, as someone is dying, or to a grieving family. These are powerful words, which do exactly what they say: they give you the very blessings of God as you live and work in this world of sin. Today, do not begin the new year with some vague wish that things will go well in 2012, leave with the blessing of God Himself: “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.” Amen.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Christmas Day (John 1:1-14)
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made.” The Word gives life, for the Word is God. The Word shouted into the darkness, “Let there be light,” and there was light. The light was good, for the Word brought it into being. The Word sounded forth for five days, calling into existence land and sea, the moon and stars, plants and animals. Then on the sixth day, the Word spoke to crown this creation. “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.” The Word spoke, and the Father bent down into His creation and formed man from the dust of the earth. He breathed into his nostrils the very breath of life, and the man became a living being. Through the Word all things have life; nothing was made without the Word, not you, not me. “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men.” There is no life apart from the Word, the Word who is with God, the Word who is God. This Word who had created all spoke again and again throughout history, proclaiming the things of God to His now fallen, broken creation. And when the time was right, God sent the Word to deliver this creation from its bondage. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
This is the mystery of Christmas. The Word, by whom all things were made, true God from eternity, takes on human flesh. The Creator comes to His creation as the angels sing His praises. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased.” God has come to His people as a man! Let the shepherds hear it in the night, may those lowliest of men be the first to praise the mystery of the Word becoming flesh! Lying in that manger outside Bethlehem is the Word which spoke our universe into being; even now, this baby, weak and helpless, is upholding the world through His power and majesty. In this dark night, “the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
This world is darkened because of sin; the Word declared “Let there be light,” but that light has been dimmed. Man was created in His image and likeness, but that image has been obscured, that likeness has been horribly corrupted. This world is dying, and man is blind. The Light shines in the darkness to drive it away. The Light shines in the darkness to restore the fallen creation, to make right what had gone so horribly wrong. The Light shines in the darkness to save us. But we would not receive Him. “He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, yet the world did not know Him.” The world didn’t recognize the Word come in the flesh, and so it rejected Him. The Creator came to His creation, and the creation refused to know Him. They denied that they were blind, walking in darkness, and so they saw no need of the Light. There was no room at Bethlehem’s inn for Mary and Joseph; there was no room in darkened hearts for the Light of the world.
Misunderstanding and confusion leads to anger and hostility; the creation not only failed to recognize its Creator, but it attempted to destroy Him, it attempted to silence the Word, it attempted to snuff out the Light. “He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him.” The Word had spoken to the people of Israel throughout history; He had made them His own, His treasured possession. They had privileged status among all the nations of the world; He fought their battles, He delivered them again and again. They had one purpose, one reason for their existence: to bring the Light into the world. But when the Light shone in the hills of Bethlehem, they rejected it. They chose the ways of darkness instead of the beautiful Light, they chose blindness instead of sight. And so they raged against the Light.
The creation shouted out against the Creator, “Crucify, crucify!” The sheep chained up their Shepherd, the subjects murdered their King. He came for their salvation; they nailed Him to a tree. The darkness surrounded the Light, seeking only its destruction. The sun itself refused to shine as man rejected the deliverance of God. The One who gives and sustains all life was subjected to death. As darkness covered the earth that Friday afternoon, the world thought that the Light had been extinguished. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” The Word dwelt among us, and we snuffed out His glory, crucifying God in the flesh. Darkness had overcome the Light.
Three days later, the darkness still sat in victory. Even though the sun rose that morning, clear and bright, the earth stood under the shadow of endless night. But the rays of early morning light shone upon an empty tomb. “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it!” The Light isn’t snuffed out, the Light isn’t extinguished, the Light isn’t defeated. The Light shines forth again, brighter than ever, because the Light has triumphed over the darkness. The darkness raged against the Light and was itself overcome. For the Light gave Himself up into death to defeat the darkness, the Word became flesh to offer up that flesh on the altar of the cross. This was the only way that the darkness could be overcome. The Light took all of our darkness, all of our blindness, upon Himself, and bore it to the cross to destroy it there. There, in the midst of its greatest victory, the darkness found itself defeated. “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Christmas points to Easter; the only reason the angels can acclaim the birth of Jesus is because this child will go to the cross to defeat the darkness. The victory cry rings out from Isaiah: “Break forth together into singing, you waste places of Jerusalem, for the Lord has comforted His people; He has redeemed Jerusalem. The Lord has bared His holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.” Christmas is about victory; the Word became flesh and dwelt among us in order to conquer the darkness of sin and death. We have seen His glory, “glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” We have seen His glory, revealed in a humble manger in Bethlehem, shown in the suffering of the cross, and trumpeted on Easter morning, when the Light declared that the darkness was defeated. The Light shone into the darkness of this world and was not overcome.
Now the Light shines in darkened hearts. “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” No one else brings light in the midst of darkness, only the Word made flesh. He brought the Light into the world, and He brings the Light into darkened hearts. Your heart was dark, filled with sin, condemned to death, but the Light shone in the midst of the darkness. He enlightened you, healing your blindness, driving the darkness away forever. He gave you a new birth. “But to all who did receive Him, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.”
Your first birth was a birth of darkness, a birth that could only bring death. You needed a new birth, a birth of Light, the only birth that brings life. The children of light are not born of the flesh but of the Spirit of the living God. The Word alone gives the right of new birth; it is only through Him that life is given. [Today Nathyn received this new birth; he had the darkness driven out of His heart by the power of the Light.] Baptism brings the Light into dark hearts; it changes children of darkness, children of the flesh, into children of God. The same Word which called for all things into being is the Word which gives you the new birth of the Spirit. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” You have seen His glory with the eyes of faith, for you have been baptized into His Name. In your Baptism, you have knelt at the manger, you have stood at the cross, you have peered into the empty tomb. All that He won for you is given in those blessed waters, for the Word remains the giver of life: at the beginning, now, and for eternity.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was not any thing made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men.” The Word has never done anything else but give life. That was His task in the beginning, and that is why He took on our flesh and blood and became man. The Word won life through the cross and empty tomb; He gives life, eternal life, by enlightening darkened hearts. He brought light into your heart, giving you a new birth that endures forever. He sustains that life by feeding you with His Word, giving you the same Body and Blood that He assumed for your salvation. And He will raise you up to live forever without sin, the way it was intended at the beginning. The Word sustains life in this world, and He will continue to uphold all things for eternity.
Christmas means that you will live even though you die; a child was born that night so that you will not die eternally. On this Christmas Day, gather around the manger, look in on the mystery of the Word becoming flesh. The Creator has come to His creation in order to save it, the Light has shone in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. In the words of the Psalm of Christmas, our Introit for today: “He has remembered His steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises!” Joy to the world, the Lord has come, let earth receive her king! Amen.
This is the mystery of Christmas. The Word, by whom all things were made, true God from eternity, takes on human flesh. The Creator comes to His creation as the angels sing His praises. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased.” God has come to His people as a man! Let the shepherds hear it in the night, may those lowliest of men be the first to praise the mystery of the Word becoming flesh! Lying in that manger outside Bethlehem is the Word which spoke our universe into being; even now, this baby, weak and helpless, is upholding the world through His power and majesty. In this dark night, “the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
This world is darkened because of sin; the Word declared “Let there be light,” but that light has been dimmed. Man was created in His image and likeness, but that image has been obscured, that likeness has been horribly corrupted. This world is dying, and man is blind. The Light shines in the darkness to drive it away. The Light shines in the darkness to restore the fallen creation, to make right what had gone so horribly wrong. The Light shines in the darkness to save us. But we would not receive Him. “He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, yet the world did not know Him.” The world didn’t recognize the Word come in the flesh, and so it rejected Him. The Creator came to His creation, and the creation refused to know Him. They denied that they were blind, walking in darkness, and so they saw no need of the Light. There was no room at Bethlehem’s inn for Mary and Joseph; there was no room in darkened hearts for the Light of the world.
Misunderstanding and confusion leads to anger and hostility; the creation not only failed to recognize its Creator, but it attempted to destroy Him, it attempted to silence the Word, it attempted to snuff out the Light. “He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him.” The Word had spoken to the people of Israel throughout history; He had made them His own, His treasured possession. They had privileged status among all the nations of the world; He fought their battles, He delivered them again and again. They had one purpose, one reason for their existence: to bring the Light into the world. But when the Light shone in the hills of Bethlehem, they rejected it. They chose the ways of darkness instead of the beautiful Light, they chose blindness instead of sight. And so they raged against the Light.
The creation shouted out against the Creator, “Crucify, crucify!” The sheep chained up their Shepherd, the subjects murdered their King. He came for their salvation; they nailed Him to a tree. The darkness surrounded the Light, seeking only its destruction. The sun itself refused to shine as man rejected the deliverance of God. The One who gives and sustains all life was subjected to death. As darkness covered the earth that Friday afternoon, the world thought that the Light had been extinguished. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” The Word dwelt among us, and we snuffed out His glory, crucifying God in the flesh. Darkness had overcome the Light.
Three days later, the darkness still sat in victory. Even though the sun rose that morning, clear and bright, the earth stood under the shadow of endless night. But the rays of early morning light shone upon an empty tomb. “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it!” The Light isn’t snuffed out, the Light isn’t extinguished, the Light isn’t defeated. The Light shines forth again, brighter than ever, because the Light has triumphed over the darkness. The darkness raged against the Light and was itself overcome. For the Light gave Himself up into death to defeat the darkness, the Word became flesh to offer up that flesh on the altar of the cross. This was the only way that the darkness could be overcome. The Light took all of our darkness, all of our blindness, upon Himself, and bore it to the cross to destroy it there. There, in the midst of its greatest victory, the darkness found itself defeated. “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Christmas points to Easter; the only reason the angels can acclaim the birth of Jesus is because this child will go to the cross to defeat the darkness. The victory cry rings out from Isaiah: “Break forth together into singing, you waste places of Jerusalem, for the Lord has comforted His people; He has redeemed Jerusalem. The Lord has bared His holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.” Christmas is about victory; the Word became flesh and dwelt among us in order to conquer the darkness of sin and death. We have seen His glory, “glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” We have seen His glory, revealed in a humble manger in Bethlehem, shown in the suffering of the cross, and trumpeted on Easter morning, when the Light declared that the darkness was defeated. The Light shone into the darkness of this world and was not overcome.
Now the Light shines in darkened hearts. “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” No one else brings light in the midst of darkness, only the Word made flesh. He brought the Light into the world, and He brings the Light into darkened hearts. Your heart was dark, filled with sin, condemned to death, but the Light shone in the midst of the darkness. He enlightened you, healing your blindness, driving the darkness away forever. He gave you a new birth. “But to all who did receive Him, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.”
Your first birth was a birth of darkness, a birth that could only bring death. You needed a new birth, a birth of Light, the only birth that brings life. The children of light are not born of the flesh but of the Spirit of the living God. The Word alone gives the right of new birth; it is only through Him that life is given. [Today Nathyn received this new birth; he had the darkness driven out of His heart by the power of the Light.] Baptism brings the Light into dark hearts; it changes children of darkness, children of the flesh, into children of God. The same Word which called for all things into being is the Word which gives you the new birth of the Spirit. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” You have seen His glory with the eyes of faith, for you have been baptized into His Name. In your Baptism, you have knelt at the manger, you have stood at the cross, you have peered into the empty tomb. All that He won for you is given in those blessed waters, for the Word remains the giver of life: at the beginning, now, and for eternity.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was not any thing made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men.” The Word has never done anything else but give life. That was His task in the beginning, and that is why He took on our flesh and blood and became man. The Word won life through the cross and empty tomb; He gives life, eternal life, by enlightening darkened hearts. He brought light into your heart, giving you a new birth that endures forever. He sustains that life by feeding you with His Word, giving you the same Body and Blood that He assumed for your salvation. And He will raise you up to live forever without sin, the way it was intended at the beginning. The Word sustains life in this world, and He will continue to uphold all things for eternity.
Christmas means that you will live even though you die; a child was born that night so that you will not die eternally. On this Christmas Day, gather around the manger, look in on the mystery of the Word becoming flesh. The Creator has come to His creation in order to save it, the Light has shone in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. In the words of the Psalm of Christmas, our Introit for today: “He has remembered His steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises!” Joy to the world, the Lord has come, let earth receive her king! Amen.
Christmas Eve (Luke 2:1-20)
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this blessed Christmas Eve comes from the second chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, when all was still, when it was midnight, the Almighty Word descended from His holy throne. He came not in majesty and glory, but in humility, born in a stable, wrapped in rags, laid in a manger. Yes, there were angels, but they didn’t appear to the rich and powerful. The first to hear of the birth of the Son of God were shepherds, “keeping watch over their flock by night.” This child wasn’t born for the elite, He was born for all. He was born to raise up the downtrodden and exalt the humble. He was born as the Son of David, who tended sheep hundreds of years earlier on those same hills. He was born as the Good Shepherd, and so shepherds would be given the privilege to announce His coming. The angels appeared that night with a glorious message. This child was Christ the Lord, the Savior. And then the heavenly host breaks into song, the most beautiful music ever heard on this earth, a foretaste of heaven. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!”
Peace on earth. This song has rung out every Christmas since. This is the song that defines Christmas, that has been the very lifeblood of the Church for two thousand years. Peace on earth. But there is no peace on earth, for hate is strong and mocks the song of the angels. There is no peace in our lives, no peace in our families, no peace in our communities, no peace in our world. We struggle against sin, we struggle against illness, we struggle against death. In this past year, we have lost loved ones, we have fought disease, we have been afflicted with problems too numerous to count. Some of you have been overwhelmed as the struggles of this life pile upon you. Peace on earth? Our lives in this world mock the song of the angels. There is crime in our communities, even in our small towns. There are conflicts between parents and children, between siblings, between those who are members together in the body of Christ. Peace on earth? Where is peace when our soldiers come back in flag-draped caskets? Where is peace when we live under the threat of terrorism, a faceless fear reaching out to strike us where we live and work? Where is peace as Christians continue to die for their faith all around the world?
Peace on earth? Where was peace for the child sleeping in a manger that first Christmas Eve? When Herod found out about His birth, the king would in a rage send his soldiers to the City of David. The children of Bethlehem would be the first ones to die for the sake of Jesus, and He would barely escape with His own life, spending time in Egyptian exile. Jesus would be opposed from the manger, pursued by the religious and secular leaders, those threatened by Him. Peace on earth? The song of the angels seemed far away as Jesus was scourged by the soldiers, as He carried the cross to Golgotha. In Psalm 2 we read, “The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord and against His anointed.” The world raged against that child, putting Him to death for the crime of claiming to be God. The soldiers spit in His face, the crowds mocked Him, even the thief next to Him hurled insults. Peace on earth? Nothing was further from the truth as the limp body of Jesus was laid into a tomb.
But the angels refuse to stop their song; if anything, they sing even louder. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace among those with whom He is pleased.” God is not dead, nor does He sleep. “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” the angels asked the women on Sunday morning. Christ was not defeated on the cross: He has risen in victory! God is not dead, nor does He sleep! He is living, walking this earth again, bearing the same flesh and blood that came into this world on Christmas Eve. His resurrection proves that His bloody suffering and death was not simply the greatest injustice that the world has ever known. His death was how Jesus would fulfill the message of the angels. “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
Everything this child would do was ‘unto you.’ He was born unto you, He lived a perfect life unto you, and He died unto you. He kept the Law where you couldn’t; He died the death you deserved. He did all of this for you, because He loved you from the very foundation of the world. He is truly a Savior, but not the kind of Savior that we would expect. He was a Savior who would operate in humility. The shepherds were not told to look for a glowing baby, piles of gold, or a glorious throne; they were sent to look for a child born in a barn and placed in a manger. This Savior, born in humility, would deliver His people by offering Himself as the acceptable sacrifice for the sins of the world. The angel told Joseph, “You shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” He was born for you; He died for you. God is pleased with you for the sake of Jesus.
The angels sing: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!” The song of the angels rings out in your life, in the midst of all that is not peaceful. God is not dead, nor does He sleep! He lives, triumphant over sin and death, and so He is not absent as you struggle in a world filled with sin, a world that seems completely devoid of peace. You have the promise that because Christ Himself stands by your side the wrong will fail and the right prevail on the Last Day. God is pleased with you because Jesus died with you. God is pleased with you because Christ’s victory on Easter morning is your victory. You cannot commit a sin that Christ cannot forgive. Those who belong to Christ have peace on earth, the peace which surpasses all understanding, the peace that often seems hidden in this world. You have peace with your God, for Jesus Christ was born to remove the penalty you owed for your sin, He was born to defeat death for you. You have peace that will last forever, the peace that characterizes eternity. This is the peace of the resurrection; when Jesus came to the disciples on Easter evening, He declared the same message as the angels thirty years earlier: “Peace be with you!” Jesus came to win peace, not the absence of conflict in this life, but eternal peace with your God, peace which sustains you as you face the sin of this world.
That is the message the Church is privileged to proclaim this day and every day. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased.” Our God is not dead, nor does He sleep! He is living and active, bringing peace to troubled hearts, forgiving sins and defeating death. To the world, the Church is an object of scorn. They mock the message of the angels, they are disgusted with the humility of the manger and the cross. But God choose the weak to shame the strong. He who proclaimed Christ’s birth to poor shepherds will proclaim peace through the weakness of the Church. He exalts the humble to His right hand in the throne room of heaven; in His great reversal the last will be first. Despite all appearances to the contrary, despite the opinion of the world, the Church proclaims peace on earth. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!” Christ’s birth brought glory to heaven, for He was born in accordance with God’s plan for our salvation. Christ’s birth brought peace to earth, for He was born to win peace between God and man. Jesus was born so that God would be pleased with you, not because of anything you have done, but solely for the sake of Christ’s death and resurrection. That is the message we preach to the world and against the world. Despite all that we see in this world of sin, the angels declare to us this night that peace has come, for our Savior is born, who is Christ the Lord. “Fear not, for behold I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people!” God is not dead, nor does He sleep! Amen.
Peace on earth. This song has rung out every Christmas since. This is the song that defines Christmas, that has been the very lifeblood of the Church for two thousand years. Peace on earth. But there is no peace on earth, for hate is strong and mocks the song of the angels. There is no peace in our lives, no peace in our families, no peace in our communities, no peace in our world. We struggle against sin, we struggle against illness, we struggle against death. In this past year, we have lost loved ones, we have fought disease, we have been afflicted with problems too numerous to count. Some of you have been overwhelmed as the struggles of this life pile upon you. Peace on earth? Our lives in this world mock the song of the angels. There is crime in our communities, even in our small towns. There are conflicts between parents and children, between siblings, between those who are members together in the body of Christ. Peace on earth? Where is peace when our soldiers come back in flag-draped caskets? Where is peace when we live under the threat of terrorism, a faceless fear reaching out to strike us where we live and work? Where is peace as Christians continue to die for their faith all around the world?
Peace on earth? Where was peace for the child sleeping in a manger that first Christmas Eve? When Herod found out about His birth, the king would in a rage send his soldiers to the City of David. The children of Bethlehem would be the first ones to die for the sake of Jesus, and He would barely escape with His own life, spending time in Egyptian exile. Jesus would be opposed from the manger, pursued by the religious and secular leaders, those threatened by Him. Peace on earth? The song of the angels seemed far away as Jesus was scourged by the soldiers, as He carried the cross to Golgotha. In Psalm 2 we read, “The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord and against His anointed.” The world raged against that child, putting Him to death for the crime of claiming to be God. The soldiers spit in His face, the crowds mocked Him, even the thief next to Him hurled insults. Peace on earth? Nothing was further from the truth as the limp body of Jesus was laid into a tomb.
But the angels refuse to stop their song; if anything, they sing even louder. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace among those with whom He is pleased.” God is not dead, nor does He sleep. “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” the angels asked the women on Sunday morning. Christ was not defeated on the cross: He has risen in victory! God is not dead, nor does He sleep! He is living, walking this earth again, bearing the same flesh and blood that came into this world on Christmas Eve. His resurrection proves that His bloody suffering and death was not simply the greatest injustice that the world has ever known. His death was how Jesus would fulfill the message of the angels. “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
Everything this child would do was ‘unto you.’ He was born unto you, He lived a perfect life unto you, and He died unto you. He kept the Law where you couldn’t; He died the death you deserved. He did all of this for you, because He loved you from the very foundation of the world. He is truly a Savior, but not the kind of Savior that we would expect. He was a Savior who would operate in humility. The shepherds were not told to look for a glowing baby, piles of gold, or a glorious throne; they were sent to look for a child born in a barn and placed in a manger. This Savior, born in humility, would deliver His people by offering Himself as the acceptable sacrifice for the sins of the world. The angel told Joseph, “You shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” He was born for you; He died for you. God is pleased with you for the sake of Jesus.
The angels sing: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!” The song of the angels rings out in your life, in the midst of all that is not peaceful. God is not dead, nor does He sleep! He lives, triumphant over sin and death, and so He is not absent as you struggle in a world filled with sin, a world that seems completely devoid of peace. You have the promise that because Christ Himself stands by your side the wrong will fail and the right prevail on the Last Day. God is pleased with you because Jesus died with you. God is pleased with you because Christ’s victory on Easter morning is your victory. You cannot commit a sin that Christ cannot forgive. Those who belong to Christ have peace on earth, the peace which surpasses all understanding, the peace that often seems hidden in this world. You have peace with your God, for Jesus Christ was born to remove the penalty you owed for your sin, He was born to defeat death for you. You have peace that will last forever, the peace that characterizes eternity. This is the peace of the resurrection; when Jesus came to the disciples on Easter evening, He declared the same message as the angels thirty years earlier: “Peace be with you!” Jesus came to win peace, not the absence of conflict in this life, but eternal peace with your God, peace which sustains you as you face the sin of this world.
That is the message the Church is privileged to proclaim this day and every day. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased.” Our God is not dead, nor does He sleep! He is living and active, bringing peace to troubled hearts, forgiving sins and defeating death. To the world, the Church is an object of scorn. They mock the message of the angels, they are disgusted with the humility of the manger and the cross. But God choose the weak to shame the strong. He who proclaimed Christ’s birth to poor shepherds will proclaim peace through the weakness of the Church. He exalts the humble to His right hand in the throne room of heaven; in His great reversal the last will be first. Despite all appearances to the contrary, despite the opinion of the world, the Church proclaims peace on earth. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!” Christ’s birth brought glory to heaven, for He was born in accordance with God’s plan for our salvation. Christ’s birth brought peace to earth, for He was born to win peace between God and man. Jesus was born so that God would be pleased with you, not because of anything you have done, but solely for the sake of Christ’s death and resurrection. That is the message we preach to the world and against the world. Despite all that we see in this world of sin, the angels declare to us this night that peace has come, for our Savior is born, who is Christ the Lord. “Fear not, for behold I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people!” God is not dead, nor does He sleep! Amen.
Walking in the darkened valley
"Behold, a host arrayed in white, like thousand snowclad mountains bright..."
The Church is at its best at the time of death. The best hymns, the best texts, the best sermons all come when the Church comes face to face with its most ancient enemy. This was impressed upon me as I sat in Kramer Chapel on the campus of Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, at an evening chapel service. We sang (with tears in many eyes) the great hymn quoted above; we heard the great texts from Revelation 21 and 22, and we heard a sermon that proclaimed comfort to all those who mourned the loss of loved ones in the year that had passed. The Church is at its best at the time of death.
The Bible could be subtitled: "A Book on Death." In its sacred pages, we learn the cause of death, and its tragic results. We hear the people of God cry out in anguish against the terror that is death. Then, piece by piece, starting from the very day in which death came, we begin to see the solution to death come together. God's answer to death is Christmas, it is Good Friday, it is Easter. God's answer to death is Jesus.
Jesus is all about defeating death. That is why He came, that is why He died.
Death was undone by the death of Christ. The Church therefore should be at its best when facing the reality of death. Not because death isn't a big deal, not because its 'just a part of life' or any of the other lies our world tells us. The Church is at its best at the time of death because it proclaims the solution, the answer, the victory. The Church preaches against death, the Church sings against death, the Church shows the risen Christ to a dying world and to death itself. "Where, O death, is thy sting? Where thy victory, O grave?"
The Church is at its best at the time of death. The best hymns, the best texts, the best sermons all come when the Church comes face to face with its most ancient enemy. This was impressed upon me as I sat in Kramer Chapel on the campus of Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, Indiana, at an evening chapel service. We sang (with tears in many eyes) the great hymn quoted above; we heard the great texts from Revelation 21 and 22, and we heard a sermon that proclaimed comfort to all those who mourned the loss of loved ones in the year that had passed. The Church is at its best at the time of death.
The Bible could be subtitled: "A Book on Death." In its sacred pages, we learn the cause of death, and its tragic results. We hear the people of God cry out in anguish against the terror that is death. Then, piece by piece, starting from the very day in which death came, we begin to see the solution to death come together. God's answer to death is Christmas, it is Good Friday, it is Easter. God's answer to death is Jesus.
Jesus is all about defeating death. That is why He came, that is why He died.
Death was undone by the death of Christ. The Church therefore should be at its best when facing the reality of death. Not because death isn't a big deal, not because its 'just a part of life' or any of the other lies our world tells us. The Church is at its best at the time of death because it proclaims the solution, the answer, the victory. The Church preaches against death, the Church sings against death, the Church shows the risen Christ to a dying world and to death itself. "Where, O death, is thy sting? Where thy victory, O grave?"
Monday, December 12, 2011
Advent 3 of Series B (John 1:6-8, 19-28)
“John answered them, ‘I baptize with water, but among you stands One whom you do not know, even He who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this third Sunday in Advent comes from the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the opening chapter of the Gospel according to Saint John. Dear friends in Christ: in our world today, finger-pointing is generally discouraged. Right now, Samantha enjoys pointing at anything that catches her attention. Her finger is extended toward puppies, other children, or a toy that is just out of reach. She loves to point, and at her age, it is one of her primary methods of communication. But there will come a time when we will have to teach her that pointing isn’t always appropriate. People don’t like being pointed at, and in our society today, it is consider quite rude, especially when you point at a complete stranger. Pointing is even used to intimidate and bully. Now, as she grows up, Samantha may find herself in situations where pointing is actually required. If she becomes an NFL quarterback, she will need to point out a blitz, to prepare her linemen and receivers for a quick throw. If she serves on a sailing ship, then she may be placed high on the mast, and it could be her job to point to the horizon and declare, ‘Land, ho!’ And as a Christian, she will need to do a lot of pointing, following the example of John the Baptist.
John was a pointer; you can imagine his kindergarten teacher saying just about every day, “For the last time, John, it isn’t polite to point!” But John didn’t listen very well; he loved to point. Not at himself, no, never at himself. He always pointed away from himself. When the Jews sent priests and Levites to ask him “Who are you,” John didn’t answer with who he was, but instead with who he wasn’t. “He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, ‘I am not the Christ.’” When it comes to talking about himself, John would much rather declare who he is not rather than who he is. He is not the Christ, he is not Elijah, he is not the prophet, he is not the Light. John does nothing for his own exaltation or advancement. He is not in the desert baptizing because of his own status or to serve his own glory. In fact, all John does is lower himself; he declares that he is not even worthy to be the lowest servant of the One who is to come. “Among you stands one who you do not know, even He who comes after me, whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” His preaching, his teaching, his baptism has nothing to do with himself. He points away from himself to another.
It’s a little frustrating to interview someone who doesn’t want to talk about himself, and so the priests and Levites get a little impatient. “So they said to him, ‘Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’” If they haven’t figured it out yet, John’s task isn’t to talk about himself, but about another. “He said, ‘I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the Lord,” as the prophet Isaiah said.” John is the voice. A voice has no worth in itself, but instead its only task is to speak. John’s mission is to speak of another, the coming One, the Lord whose way must be prepared. The Evangelist puts it best. “He came as a witness, to bear witness about the Light, that all might believe through him. He was not the Light, but came to bear witness about the Light.” John has come as the first witness in the great court case that is beginning in our text. Jesus, this carpenter’s son from a no-name town, born under suspicious circumstances, is on trial. Throughout His life, Jesus will testify to His identity, that He is God come in the flesh to save. John is His first witness. He has come baptizing to declare that God has begun the work of salvation, and Jesus is the one who will accomplish it. He points only to Jesus.
Who do you point to? Do you point to Jesus, or to yourself? Christians are called upon to be finger-pointers, to draw attention to Jesus, but most often we draw attention to ourselves. Selfishness is rampart in our society, in fact it’s embedded into our mindset as Americans, and you and I are no different. If someone wrote a newspaper article about you, would Jesus even get mentioned? Our fingers are most often squarely pointed at ourselves, not at Christ. We do this by our sin; every time that we sin against our neighbor, we are taking the focus away from Christ and putting the spotlight on ourselves. We do this by our inaction; we are often too busy focusing on ourselves to confess Christ before the world. We do this by pointing to our own accomplishments, all that we have achieved, with no reference to the God who created and redeemed us; in selfish pride we exalt ourselves. John never exalted himself; instead, he spent most of his time lowering himself so that Christ would increase. Are you willing to decrease so that Christ may increase? John was willing to be nothing, to make himself lower than a servant, in order that Jesus may be exalted. This is risky, this is uncomfortable; those who lower themselves so that Christ will have all the glory pay a price, as John found out. Your pride will have to be sacrificed; all of your thoughts and deeds will have to serve Christ, not the other way around. Like John, you must decrease so that Christ may increase.
But that is not the end of the story. John spent all of his time lowering himself, bowing low in humility before the coming One. Jesus did exactly the opposite; He spent all of His time exalting John. In the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, Christ declares, “Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist.” Jesus exalts John to the first place among the apostles and prophets, all those who pointed to the coming Messiah. John isn’t optional to the story of Jesus, he is essential, because he revealed Jesus to Israel as the coming One, the One who would fulfill all of the promises God had given through the prophets of old. When John tried to prevent Jesus from being baptized, our Lord declared, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” John was essential to the plan of salvation, he was needed to fulfill all righteousness, for John baptized Jesus into the baptism of sinners, revealing Him as the sin-bearer, the beloved Son of the Father who would take the sin of the world away. Jesus exalts John not because John was so accomplished, or so talented, or had so much wealth. Jesus exalts John because of his humble witness. Jesus exalts John because John didn’t exalt himself.
That is the great irony of the Gospel. We don’t have to waste our time exalting ourselves; that’s Jesus’ job! And it’s a task that He loves to do. Jesus exalts the humble. That is what He has come to do. The Law humbles you, showing you where you have rebelled against your loving Creator. Today, the Law has shone a light on your life and pointed out your selfishness, your exaltation of yourself instead of Jesus. You have been brought low by the Law, but take heart. Christ exalts the humble, those who have nothing to give Him but their sin. He came to raise up sinners, to surrender everything for them. He began this task when John baptized Him with the waters of repentance. Jesus stood in the Jordan and submitted to the baptism of John as the sinless One in the place of sinners. Jesus came to humble Himself, to give up everything, even His own life, for the sake of sinners. But in His humiliation He was exalted. He was lifted up, exalted upon the bloody throne of the cross. Good Friday was the enthronement of our King. He wore not a crown of gold, but a crown of thorns. He did not establish His kingdom on terror or power, but on humility and service. John didn’t consider himself worthy to untie Jesus’ sandal; Jesus made Himself lower than any man in history upon the cross. There He showed His love for lowly sinners, for you and me. Jesus suffered all, even hell itself, for those whom He loved. Jesus humbled Himself so that you would be exalted.
God accepted His sacrifice on your behalf, raising Him from the dead and then placing Jesus at His right hand. Think about it: the same flesh and blood that you and I bear is now enthroned at the right hand of the living God. This is a pledge, a guarantee, that you will one day be enthroned there as well. He lifts up sinners, exalting them to the throne of God. Because Jesus died, your sin is forgiven. Because Jesus lives, you too will live. Because Jesus is enthroned at the right hand of His Father, so you will be too. No one in this world can exalt you beyond what Jesus has done. There is no need for you to exalt yourself, no need to seek honor and glory from others, for Christ Himself has raised you to the place of eternal glory. Your exaltation is found solely and only in Christ, the one who died for you, rose again for you, and is enthroned in glory for you.
Jesus, like John, is a pointer. He points to you and me and says, “These are my beloved people.” When the Law brings you low, rightfully pointing out your sinful pride so that you tremble before God’s wrath, Jesus points to you this morning and said, “You are forgiven; I will exalt you only because of my shed blood on your behalf.” He points to you when the fear of death confronts you, declaring, “You will live forever because I live. Death has no power over you.” When you suffer disease and infirmity, Jesus points to you and says, “You will one day have a body that will never fail again.” Whenever Satan accuses you, Jesus points to you and says to the evil one, “This is my child, claimed by the waters of Holy Baptism, fed by my Body and Blood. I will not abandon my child.” The Gospel is all about finger-pointing. We point to Jesus and He points to us, declaring who we are and what has been given to us by His shed blood. It may still be rude to finger-point in elementary school, but in the Church it is the way of the Gospel. The Church continues to point sinners to Jesus, as it has since the days of John the Baptist; Christ isn’t generic with His gifts, but He applies them directly to each and every one of you, this day and every day. In the Name of the Light, the One greater than John who humbled Himself for the salvation of all people, Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.
John was a pointer; you can imagine his kindergarten teacher saying just about every day, “For the last time, John, it isn’t polite to point!” But John didn’t listen very well; he loved to point. Not at himself, no, never at himself. He always pointed away from himself. When the Jews sent priests and Levites to ask him “Who are you,” John didn’t answer with who he was, but instead with who he wasn’t. “He confessed, and did not deny, but confessed, ‘I am not the Christ.’” When it comes to talking about himself, John would much rather declare who he is not rather than who he is. He is not the Christ, he is not Elijah, he is not the prophet, he is not the Light. John does nothing for his own exaltation or advancement. He is not in the desert baptizing because of his own status or to serve his own glory. In fact, all John does is lower himself; he declares that he is not even worthy to be the lowest servant of the One who is to come. “Among you stands one who you do not know, even He who comes after me, whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” His preaching, his teaching, his baptism has nothing to do with himself. He points away from himself to another.
It’s a little frustrating to interview someone who doesn’t want to talk about himself, and so the priests and Levites get a little impatient. “So they said to him, ‘Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’” If they haven’t figured it out yet, John’s task isn’t to talk about himself, but about another. “He said, ‘I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the Lord,” as the prophet Isaiah said.” John is the voice. A voice has no worth in itself, but instead its only task is to speak. John’s mission is to speak of another, the coming One, the Lord whose way must be prepared. The Evangelist puts it best. “He came as a witness, to bear witness about the Light, that all might believe through him. He was not the Light, but came to bear witness about the Light.” John has come as the first witness in the great court case that is beginning in our text. Jesus, this carpenter’s son from a no-name town, born under suspicious circumstances, is on trial. Throughout His life, Jesus will testify to His identity, that He is God come in the flesh to save. John is His first witness. He has come baptizing to declare that God has begun the work of salvation, and Jesus is the one who will accomplish it. He points only to Jesus.
Who do you point to? Do you point to Jesus, or to yourself? Christians are called upon to be finger-pointers, to draw attention to Jesus, but most often we draw attention to ourselves. Selfishness is rampart in our society, in fact it’s embedded into our mindset as Americans, and you and I are no different. If someone wrote a newspaper article about you, would Jesus even get mentioned? Our fingers are most often squarely pointed at ourselves, not at Christ. We do this by our sin; every time that we sin against our neighbor, we are taking the focus away from Christ and putting the spotlight on ourselves. We do this by our inaction; we are often too busy focusing on ourselves to confess Christ before the world. We do this by pointing to our own accomplishments, all that we have achieved, with no reference to the God who created and redeemed us; in selfish pride we exalt ourselves. John never exalted himself; instead, he spent most of his time lowering himself so that Christ would increase. Are you willing to decrease so that Christ may increase? John was willing to be nothing, to make himself lower than a servant, in order that Jesus may be exalted. This is risky, this is uncomfortable; those who lower themselves so that Christ will have all the glory pay a price, as John found out. Your pride will have to be sacrificed; all of your thoughts and deeds will have to serve Christ, not the other way around. Like John, you must decrease so that Christ may increase.
But that is not the end of the story. John spent all of his time lowering himself, bowing low in humility before the coming One. Jesus did exactly the opposite; He spent all of His time exalting John. In the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, Christ declares, “Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist.” Jesus exalts John to the first place among the apostles and prophets, all those who pointed to the coming Messiah. John isn’t optional to the story of Jesus, he is essential, because he revealed Jesus to Israel as the coming One, the One who would fulfill all of the promises God had given through the prophets of old. When John tried to prevent Jesus from being baptized, our Lord declared, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” John was essential to the plan of salvation, he was needed to fulfill all righteousness, for John baptized Jesus into the baptism of sinners, revealing Him as the sin-bearer, the beloved Son of the Father who would take the sin of the world away. Jesus exalts John not because John was so accomplished, or so talented, or had so much wealth. Jesus exalts John because of his humble witness. Jesus exalts John because John didn’t exalt himself.
That is the great irony of the Gospel. We don’t have to waste our time exalting ourselves; that’s Jesus’ job! And it’s a task that He loves to do. Jesus exalts the humble. That is what He has come to do. The Law humbles you, showing you where you have rebelled against your loving Creator. Today, the Law has shone a light on your life and pointed out your selfishness, your exaltation of yourself instead of Jesus. You have been brought low by the Law, but take heart. Christ exalts the humble, those who have nothing to give Him but their sin. He came to raise up sinners, to surrender everything for them. He began this task when John baptized Him with the waters of repentance. Jesus stood in the Jordan and submitted to the baptism of John as the sinless One in the place of sinners. Jesus came to humble Himself, to give up everything, even His own life, for the sake of sinners. But in His humiliation He was exalted. He was lifted up, exalted upon the bloody throne of the cross. Good Friday was the enthronement of our King. He wore not a crown of gold, but a crown of thorns. He did not establish His kingdom on terror or power, but on humility and service. John didn’t consider himself worthy to untie Jesus’ sandal; Jesus made Himself lower than any man in history upon the cross. There He showed His love for lowly sinners, for you and me. Jesus suffered all, even hell itself, for those whom He loved. Jesus humbled Himself so that you would be exalted.
God accepted His sacrifice on your behalf, raising Him from the dead and then placing Jesus at His right hand. Think about it: the same flesh and blood that you and I bear is now enthroned at the right hand of the living God. This is a pledge, a guarantee, that you will one day be enthroned there as well. He lifts up sinners, exalting them to the throne of God. Because Jesus died, your sin is forgiven. Because Jesus lives, you too will live. Because Jesus is enthroned at the right hand of His Father, so you will be too. No one in this world can exalt you beyond what Jesus has done. There is no need for you to exalt yourself, no need to seek honor and glory from others, for Christ Himself has raised you to the place of eternal glory. Your exaltation is found solely and only in Christ, the one who died for you, rose again for you, and is enthroned in glory for you.
Jesus, like John, is a pointer. He points to you and me and says, “These are my beloved people.” When the Law brings you low, rightfully pointing out your sinful pride so that you tremble before God’s wrath, Jesus points to you this morning and said, “You are forgiven; I will exalt you only because of my shed blood on your behalf.” He points to you when the fear of death confronts you, declaring, “You will live forever because I live. Death has no power over you.” When you suffer disease and infirmity, Jesus points to you and says, “You will one day have a body that will never fail again.” Whenever Satan accuses you, Jesus points to you and says to the evil one, “This is my child, claimed by the waters of Holy Baptism, fed by my Body and Blood. I will not abandon my child.” The Gospel is all about finger-pointing. We point to Jesus and He points to us, declaring who we are and what has been given to us by His shed blood. It may still be rude to finger-point in elementary school, but in the Church it is the way of the Gospel. The Church continues to point sinners to Jesus, as it has since the days of John the Baptist; Christ isn’t generic with His gifts, but He applies them directly to each and every one of you, this day and every day. In the Name of the Light, the One greater than John who humbled Himself for the salvation of all people, Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.
Advent 2 of Series B (Isaiah 40:1-11)
“Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and His arm rules for Him; behold, His reward is with Him, and His recompense before Him. He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; He will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this second Sunday in Advent comes from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the fortieth chapter of the prophet Isaiah. Dear friends in Christ: voices, voices everywhere! Voices telling you to do this, don’t do that; voices telling you how to think, how to vote, how to shop. The media explosion we have experienced in the past decades has meant that you now hear literally thousands of voices. This time of year, they are telling you which products are trendy and popular, what will look good underneath your tree. Though each voice is different, they all have the same message: buying stuff is what Christmas is all about! As the election season continues to heat up, those voices are promoting candidates, they are debating issues, trying to convince the unconvinced, they are trying to convince you. These voices use any means necessary to speak, and they cry out too loudly to be ignored. It’s nearly impossible to tune out all of these voices, and it’s difficult to avoid being influenced by them or buying into their sweet-sounding message.
Through all of the noise, through the clutter, through the multitude of voices clamoring for your attention, we hear another voice in our text for today: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” I would guess that the vast majority of voices that you hear in this world are saying nothing about comfort. They say much about power and victory and happiness, but precious little about comfort. That is what makes God’s voice different from all the rest; He declares that He will comfort His people, He will bring them the consolation that they need, that they cannot receive from any other voice in this world. This consolation, this comfort, can only come from the promise of deliverance.
“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” This voice declares comfort, for salvation is coming to us. Our rebellion had plunged us into never-ending war with God Himself, a conflict that we could never win. Sin leads to death, and death could only lead to eternal punishment. But then God speaks comfort. He will deliver His people. Our warfare will end, because our iniquity will be pardoned. The Hebrew word for ‘pardon’ means to receive a sacrifice favorably. Our warfare will end because God will receive favorably the sacrifice for our iniquity. In fact, God Himself will provide that sacrifice, for no offering of bulls or goats could ever fully atone for our sin. Our warfare is about to end, because God will act for our salvation; our iniquity will be pardoned, we will receive a multitude of blessings in place of our sin. Comfort, comfort my people!
Our God is the God who comes. “A voice cries: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.’” The Lord is coming to accomplish this salvation, to end our warfare, to pardon our iniquity, to give to us double in the place of our sins. He is coming to accomplish a new exodus; to bring His people out from the bondage of sin as He brought them out of Egypt with a mighty, outstretched arm. He is coming, and so the way must be prepared. “Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” A voice is crying in the wilderness: the glory of the Lord is coming for your salvation- make ready the way of the Lord!
John the Baptist is that voice. He came into the desert to prepare the way for Jesus, for in Him the glory of the Lord is revealed, clothed in our human flesh. John came to level the hills, to raise up the valleys, to clear away the obstacles for the coming Christ. He did this by preaching repentance. Repentance is the only way to be prepared for the coming of God in the flesh, repentance is the only way to clear away the obstacles, to make the paths straight for Christ to come and accomplish salvation. John calls upon you to examine yourself, to look deeply at your life, to see the sin that hides in every nook and cranny. Such an examination will bring only one conclusion: you are fully and completely corrupted by sin. As Isaiah wrote last week, even your righteous deeds are filthy rags. If you don’t find any sin, then you are deceiving yourself, but moreover, you are calling God a liar, for He has declared that all humanity is sinful. Now you have two choices: you can ignore that sin which dwells within you, taking your chances with a holy God, or you can repent, crying out to God for deliverance, for pardon, for forgiveness.
And John stands in the river Jordan, pointing his finger toward the only One who can do something about your sin, indeed the One who has come to end your warfare, pardon your iniquity, and give you eternal comfort, Jesus Christ: “After me comes He who is mightier than I, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I have baptized you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” Jesus has come as the glory of the Lord revealed on this earth; He has come to end our warfare by offering Himself as the sacrifice for our iniquity. God receives favorably the sacrifice of His Son, the perfect and sinless one in the place of sinners, giving us an abundance of forgiveness in the place of our sins, and comfort: comfort in this life in the midst of our afflictions, and comfort for eternity in the new heavens and the new earth.
It is that message that we hear from the voice of John, and it is the message that the Church is now given to proclaim. “A voice says, ‘Cry!’ And I said, ‘What shall I cry?’” John prepared to Christ’s first coming by calling the people to repentance; the Church now has the task to prepare for Christ’s second coming. You and I are now called upon to cry out. Martin Luther was fond of calling the church a ‘mouth-house.’ He meant that the Church is the place where proclamation happens, where people speak the things God has given them to speak. This first of all happens through the public preaching of God’s Word from this pulpit, the declaration of forgiveness from this chancel, the Words of Institution and the Baptismal formula from this altar and from this font. But that is not the only place we are called on to speak, and pastors are not the only ones who should be speaking. Every Christian is called upon to speak; the Church is a ‘mouth-house’ because the Word is spoken here to you and then you go into the world to speak it to those around you. “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not!”
The voice says, ‘Cry!’ and we ask with Isaiah, ‘What shall we cry?’ “All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows on it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever.” We call on this world to repent. We speak boldly of sin, calling on our friends, our family, our neighbors to turn from the ways of the world. We declare the fleeting nature of humanity, that all of our stuff, all of our material possessions, even our own lives, will fade away and be no more. We proclaim the reality of death, that enemy that no one can defeat; we call on all people to look beyond their lives in this world to the things of eternity.
And then we even more boldly proclaim the One who came to defeat both sin and death. “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah, ‘Behold your God!’” Like John, we point to Jesus and we say, “Behold your God!” We point to Jesus as He comes among us in His Word and Sacraments, forgiving sin and defeating death. We point to Jesus as the coming Lord, the One who will return to bring us an eternity without sin, who will come to bring comfort forever. We speak tenderly to those around us, crying to them that their warfare is now over, because their iniquity has been pardoned by the suffering and death of the sinless Son of God. The same glorious message that has been proclaimed to us, that we still need to hear each and every day, we proclaim to those around us. We point to the altar, to the pulpit, to the font, to the Holy Scriptures, and we declare, “Behold your God!”
Our voice may not seem like much in the midst of the thousands of other voices crying out in our world today. It seems like such an overwhelming task to compete with those powerful, enticing voices. Each voice promises something; each has something to offer, some powerful incentive to lure people in. They have all the advantages, and it seems like everyone is listening. But lift up your voice, fear not, because you are called on to speak the Word of the living God. There are voices, voices everywhere, but only the voice of the Lord saves! “Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and His arm rules for Him; behold His reward is with Him, and His recompense before Him. He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; He will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those who are with young.” Jesus is coming, and His reward is with Him. That reward is you and me, His flock that He won through His shed blood. He will tend you as a loving shepherd, He will gather you up in His arms. He will give you comfort, for your iniquity is pardoned, your transgressions are covered, and you will receive the abundance of heaven in place of your sins. Comfort, comfort my people, for Jesus Christ is coming, and He comes to save you! In His Name, Amen.
Through all of the noise, through the clutter, through the multitude of voices clamoring for your attention, we hear another voice in our text for today: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” I would guess that the vast majority of voices that you hear in this world are saying nothing about comfort. They say much about power and victory and happiness, but precious little about comfort. That is what makes God’s voice different from all the rest; He declares that He will comfort His people, He will bring them the consolation that they need, that they cannot receive from any other voice in this world. This consolation, this comfort, can only come from the promise of deliverance.
“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” This voice declares comfort, for salvation is coming to us. Our rebellion had plunged us into never-ending war with God Himself, a conflict that we could never win. Sin leads to death, and death could only lead to eternal punishment. But then God speaks comfort. He will deliver His people. Our warfare will end, because our iniquity will be pardoned. The Hebrew word for ‘pardon’ means to receive a sacrifice favorably. Our warfare will end because God will receive favorably the sacrifice for our iniquity. In fact, God Himself will provide that sacrifice, for no offering of bulls or goats could ever fully atone for our sin. Our warfare is about to end, because God will act for our salvation; our iniquity will be pardoned, we will receive a multitude of blessings in place of our sin. Comfort, comfort my people!
Our God is the God who comes. “A voice cries: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.’” The Lord is coming to accomplish this salvation, to end our warfare, to pardon our iniquity, to give to us double in the place of our sins. He is coming to accomplish a new exodus; to bring His people out from the bondage of sin as He brought them out of Egypt with a mighty, outstretched arm. He is coming, and so the way must be prepared. “Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” A voice is crying in the wilderness: the glory of the Lord is coming for your salvation- make ready the way of the Lord!
John the Baptist is that voice. He came into the desert to prepare the way for Jesus, for in Him the glory of the Lord is revealed, clothed in our human flesh. John came to level the hills, to raise up the valleys, to clear away the obstacles for the coming Christ. He did this by preaching repentance. Repentance is the only way to be prepared for the coming of God in the flesh, repentance is the only way to clear away the obstacles, to make the paths straight for Christ to come and accomplish salvation. John calls upon you to examine yourself, to look deeply at your life, to see the sin that hides in every nook and cranny. Such an examination will bring only one conclusion: you are fully and completely corrupted by sin. As Isaiah wrote last week, even your righteous deeds are filthy rags. If you don’t find any sin, then you are deceiving yourself, but moreover, you are calling God a liar, for He has declared that all humanity is sinful. Now you have two choices: you can ignore that sin which dwells within you, taking your chances with a holy God, or you can repent, crying out to God for deliverance, for pardon, for forgiveness.
And John stands in the river Jordan, pointing his finger toward the only One who can do something about your sin, indeed the One who has come to end your warfare, pardon your iniquity, and give you eternal comfort, Jesus Christ: “After me comes He who is mightier than I, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I have baptized you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” Jesus has come as the glory of the Lord revealed on this earth; He has come to end our warfare by offering Himself as the sacrifice for our iniquity. God receives favorably the sacrifice of His Son, the perfect and sinless one in the place of sinners, giving us an abundance of forgiveness in the place of our sins, and comfort: comfort in this life in the midst of our afflictions, and comfort for eternity in the new heavens and the new earth.
It is that message that we hear from the voice of John, and it is the message that the Church is now given to proclaim. “A voice says, ‘Cry!’ And I said, ‘What shall I cry?’” John prepared to Christ’s first coming by calling the people to repentance; the Church now has the task to prepare for Christ’s second coming. You and I are now called upon to cry out. Martin Luther was fond of calling the church a ‘mouth-house.’ He meant that the Church is the place where proclamation happens, where people speak the things God has given them to speak. This first of all happens through the public preaching of God’s Word from this pulpit, the declaration of forgiveness from this chancel, the Words of Institution and the Baptismal formula from this altar and from this font. But that is not the only place we are called on to speak, and pastors are not the only ones who should be speaking. Every Christian is called upon to speak; the Church is a ‘mouth-house’ because the Word is spoken here to you and then you go into the world to speak it to those around you. “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not!”
The voice says, ‘Cry!’ and we ask with Isaiah, ‘What shall we cry?’ “All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows on it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever.” We call on this world to repent. We speak boldly of sin, calling on our friends, our family, our neighbors to turn from the ways of the world. We declare the fleeting nature of humanity, that all of our stuff, all of our material possessions, even our own lives, will fade away and be no more. We proclaim the reality of death, that enemy that no one can defeat; we call on all people to look beyond their lives in this world to the things of eternity.
And then we even more boldly proclaim the One who came to defeat both sin and death. “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah, ‘Behold your God!’” Like John, we point to Jesus and we say, “Behold your God!” We point to Jesus as He comes among us in His Word and Sacraments, forgiving sin and defeating death. We point to Jesus as the coming Lord, the One who will return to bring us an eternity without sin, who will come to bring comfort forever. We speak tenderly to those around us, crying to them that their warfare is now over, because their iniquity has been pardoned by the suffering and death of the sinless Son of God. The same glorious message that has been proclaimed to us, that we still need to hear each and every day, we proclaim to those around us. We point to the altar, to the pulpit, to the font, to the Holy Scriptures, and we declare, “Behold your God!”
Our voice may not seem like much in the midst of the thousands of other voices crying out in our world today. It seems like such an overwhelming task to compete with those powerful, enticing voices. Each voice promises something; each has something to offer, some powerful incentive to lure people in. They have all the advantages, and it seems like everyone is listening. But lift up your voice, fear not, because you are called on to speak the Word of the living God. There are voices, voices everywhere, but only the voice of the Lord saves! “Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and His arm rules for Him; behold His reward is with Him, and His recompense before Him. He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; He will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those who are with young.” Jesus is coming, and His reward is with Him. That reward is you and me, His flock that He won through His shed blood. He will tend you as a loving shepherd, He will gather you up in His arms. He will give you comfort, for your iniquity is pardoned, your transgressions are covered, and you will receive the abundance of heaven in place of your sins. Comfort, comfort my people, for Jesus Christ is coming, and He comes to save you! In His Name, Amen.
Advent 1 of Series B (Isaiah 64:1-9)
“Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains might quake at your presence- as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil- to make your name known to your adversaries, and that the nations might tremble at your presence!” Come down, O Lord! Come and save us, come and deliver us from our enemies! Come with your mighty power, the same majesty and glory that you have had from eternity reveal on this earth! Come down and visit us in salvation, as you did for your people of old. You conquered the Egyptians, you fought for your people, so that all Israel and all Egypt- from Pharaoh on the throne to the servant girl in his house- would know that you truly are the God of the universe. Isaiah wrote about you: “In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the angel of His presence saved them; in His love and in His pity He redeemed them; He lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.” Come in the midst of our affliction, save us in your love and pity! Carry us as you carried them, and bring us out from the bondage of our enemies. We suffer in this world, we are persecuted by those who hate us and you, we are the victims of so much evil. Come down and strike terror into the hearts of our enemies! May they quake at your presence, may the very earth itself be moved! Come in your majesty, your power, your glory, crushing sinners with your righteous judgment!
But wait just a minute, Lord. Now that we think about it, maybe it’s better if you don’t come. We want you to make our enemies tremble, to shake the very creation, but the truth is we are the ones trembling. If you come down in power and glory for the destruction of sinners, we too will be destroyed. For we are all completely and totally sinful. We can complain about all those people outside these walls while pretending that we are righteous, but it’s a lie. “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.” We are all unclean, covered with the filth of sin; we inherited this corruption from our parents, and we wallow in the filth each and every day. Lord, we are destined for death, we are destined to be carried away like a leaf, and leaves get burned. We are trembling at your Law, for it condemns us, it doesn’t give us any place to hide. Even our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment; every deed we do, good or not, is tainted with sin. If I serve my neighbor, I’m looking for recognition, I want something out of it. My service in the church is to make people respect me, when I volunteer I want my picture in the paper. Or I resent having to help others; I serve, but only grudgingly. I can’t even pray without comparing myself to others, trying to appear more ‘spiritual’ than my neighbor. My good works truly are filthy rags!
“Behold, you were angry, and we sinned; in our sins we have been a long time, and shall we be saved?” The worst thing, Lord, is that I sin knowing your wrath over sin. You are angry with my sins, and yet I continue to commit them! It isn’t that your Word isn’t clear, it isn’t that pastors don’t preach your expectations clearly enough, it is just that I can’t stop sinning, and I sin in such arrogance, such boldness that it is disgusting! I sin knowing full well the penalty for sin; sometimes I even plan my sin, ignoring my conscience, which is always trying to point me back to your Word. I treat your graciousness as a license for sin; I sin while thinking, ‘I’ll just ask for forgiveness later.’ And I am hardly alone. “There is no one who calls upon your name, who rouses himself to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have made us melt in the hand of our iniquities.” No one calls on your name, Lord; we are all completely and totally sinners, through and through. None of us are clean or righteous, no, not one, and so you have hidden your face from us, you have left us to endure the consequences for our sins, in this life and in eternity.
Turn your face to us once again; be not hidden from us! Rend the heavens and come down, not to bring us glory, but to deliver us from the bondage of sin. We have taskmasters of our own making, and we cannot deliver ourselves. We need you, we need your salvation! We tremble at your law, we melt in our iniquities, and there is nothing that we can do about it. Even our righteous deeds are as filthy rags. “But now O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Be not so terribly angry, O Lord, and remember not iniquity forever. Behold, please look, we are all your people.” We are not blaming you for our sin, O Lord; we are in this mess by our fault, by our own fault, by our own most grievous fault. But we are your creation, and like the clay pot, we need to be remade. You gave us life, you formed us from the dust of the ground; come, O Lord, and help your creation. Bring us the salvation that we so desperately need; intercede on behalf of your creatures! “Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down!”
You have come; we waited for you and you came. But you did not come in a way that we expected. “When you did awesome things that we did not look for, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.” We didn’t expect you to come in this way, but Lord, your ways are not our ways. Thanks be to God! You came to us in human flesh, bearing the same body that we have. You passed through every stage of life that we did, from conception to birth. You rent the heavens and came down, not in power, glory, or majesty, but in humility. You rent the heavens and came down, to be carried in the womb of a virgin, to be born in a stable and laid in manger. You came in humility, you came as our servant, you came to bring us salvation. You have shown to us incredible love and grace, beyond anything we could ever have imagined, and we deserve none of it. What other God would even come to us, taking on our flesh to deliver it, not to mention coming as a humble baby, as our servant? “From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who waited for you.” We waited for your coming since the day we fell into sin, and now you have rent the heavens and come down. You have shaken the earth, from the terrified shepherds on the hills of Bethlehem to Herod in His palace- nothing will ever be the same.
You have come; we waited for you and you came. You rent the heavens and came down, entering into Jerusalem as a triumphant king. All of Jerusalem was shaken as you entered her ancient gates. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion. Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem. Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation.” You entered that city in victory, acclaimed by all the people. For you were the long awaited King, many even believed you were the Messiah. You came to save us, you came in answer to our prayers, our earnest pleas for deliverance from the bondage of sin. But you did not come in a way that we expected. We did not expect that you would rend the heavens and come down only to hang dead upon a cross. “When you did awesome things that we did not look for, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.” The very creation itself quaked at your death, for it realized the significance of what occurred that dark Friday. The sinless Son of God died in the place of His sinful people, those whom He so dearly loved. Only by giving up yourself into death on our behalf could you save us, and so you willingly went there to suffer death and hell with the weight of the world’s sin on your shoulders. There you won salvation, there you answered our cries. We prayed that you would rend the heavens and come down and you answered, not with power or glory, but with humility and service, all for us and for our salvation. Then the earth would tremble again three days later, for you would rise triumphant over sin and death. You have conquered our enemies, you have defeated our foes, you have delivered us from bondage!
You have come; we waited for you and you came. But you did not come in a way that we would expect. You rent the heavens and came down, hidden under water, words, simple bread and wine. You won salvation by dying in our place on Calvary’s cross; you sealed that victory by walking from the empty tomb on Easter morning. But we, your people, do not have to go to Jerusalem to find forgiveness. You who ascended into heaven still come to us bearing those gifts. You have come to us this very day. You rent the heavens and came down to Thain, making him your own child, giving to him all that you won with your shed blood. You will rend the heavens and come down to us with your Body and Blood in just a few moments, bringing the gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation. You come to us in your Word, bearing forgiveness, teaching us and strengthening our faith. You come to us in ways that seem foolish to our world, ways that seem powerless and insignificant. Who could imagine a God who would save with a baby born in a barn, a man hanging dead on a cross, some water in a bowl, a book, a wafer, or a small glass of wine? “From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no one has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for Him.”
Come Lord Jesus, come back to us! “Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains might quake at your presence!” We wait eagerly for your return, for when you return, our eternal inheritance will be fully revealed. You will rend the heavens and come down, this time in power and majesty and glory. All creation will be shaken as it never has been before, for it will be remade, cleansed and purified from all sin, evil, and corruption. Come Lord Jesus, come back and accomplish all that you promised! Help us to wait in patience, to see you as you come in Word and in Sacrament, but always to eagerly cry out for your return. Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.
But wait just a minute, Lord. Now that we think about it, maybe it’s better if you don’t come. We want you to make our enemies tremble, to shake the very creation, but the truth is we are the ones trembling. If you come down in power and glory for the destruction of sinners, we too will be destroyed. For we are all completely and totally sinful. We can complain about all those people outside these walls while pretending that we are righteous, but it’s a lie. “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.” We are all unclean, covered with the filth of sin; we inherited this corruption from our parents, and we wallow in the filth each and every day. Lord, we are destined for death, we are destined to be carried away like a leaf, and leaves get burned. We are trembling at your Law, for it condemns us, it doesn’t give us any place to hide. Even our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment; every deed we do, good or not, is tainted with sin. If I serve my neighbor, I’m looking for recognition, I want something out of it. My service in the church is to make people respect me, when I volunteer I want my picture in the paper. Or I resent having to help others; I serve, but only grudgingly. I can’t even pray without comparing myself to others, trying to appear more ‘spiritual’ than my neighbor. My good works truly are filthy rags!
“Behold, you were angry, and we sinned; in our sins we have been a long time, and shall we be saved?” The worst thing, Lord, is that I sin knowing your wrath over sin. You are angry with my sins, and yet I continue to commit them! It isn’t that your Word isn’t clear, it isn’t that pastors don’t preach your expectations clearly enough, it is just that I can’t stop sinning, and I sin in such arrogance, such boldness that it is disgusting! I sin knowing full well the penalty for sin; sometimes I even plan my sin, ignoring my conscience, which is always trying to point me back to your Word. I treat your graciousness as a license for sin; I sin while thinking, ‘I’ll just ask for forgiveness later.’ And I am hardly alone. “There is no one who calls upon your name, who rouses himself to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have made us melt in the hand of our iniquities.” No one calls on your name, Lord; we are all completely and totally sinners, through and through. None of us are clean or righteous, no, not one, and so you have hidden your face from us, you have left us to endure the consequences for our sins, in this life and in eternity.
Turn your face to us once again; be not hidden from us! Rend the heavens and come down, not to bring us glory, but to deliver us from the bondage of sin. We have taskmasters of our own making, and we cannot deliver ourselves. We need you, we need your salvation! We tremble at your law, we melt in our iniquities, and there is nothing that we can do about it. Even our righteous deeds are as filthy rags. “But now O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Be not so terribly angry, O Lord, and remember not iniquity forever. Behold, please look, we are all your people.” We are not blaming you for our sin, O Lord; we are in this mess by our fault, by our own fault, by our own most grievous fault. But we are your creation, and like the clay pot, we need to be remade. You gave us life, you formed us from the dust of the ground; come, O Lord, and help your creation. Bring us the salvation that we so desperately need; intercede on behalf of your creatures! “Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down!”
You have come; we waited for you and you came. But you did not come in a way that we expected. “When you did awesome things that we did not look for, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.” We didn’t expect you to come in this way, but Lord, your ways are not our ways. Thanks be to God! You came to us in human flesh, bearing the same body that we have. You passed through every stage of life that we did, from conception to birth. You rent the heavens and came down, not in power, glory, or majesty, but in humility. You rent the heavens and came down, to be carried in the womb of a virgin, to be born in a stable and laid in manger. You came in humility, you came as our servant, you came to bring us salvation. You have shown to us incredible love and grace, beyond anything we could ever have imagined, and we deserve none of it. What other God would even come to us, taking on our flesh to deliver it, not to mention coming as a humble baby, as our servant? “From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who waited for you.” We waited for your coming since the day we fell into sin, and now you have rent the heavens and come down. You have shaken the earth, from the terrified shepherds on the hills of Bethlehem to Herod in His palace- nothing will ever be the same.
You have come; we waited for you and you came. You rent the heavens and came down, entering into Jerusalem as a triumphant king. All of Jerusalem was shaken as you entered her ancient gates. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion. Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem. Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation.” You entered that city in victory, acclaimed by all the people. For you were the long awaited King, many even believed you were the Messiah. You came to save us, you came in answer to our prayers, our earnest pleas for deliverance from the bondage of sin. But you did not come in a way that we expected. We did not expect that you would rend the heavens and come down only to hang dead upon a cross. “When you did awesome things that we did not look for, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.” The very creation itself quaked at your death, for it realized the significance of what occurred that dark Friday. The sinless Son of God died in the place of His sinful people, those whom He so dearly loved. Only by giving up yourself into death on our behalf could you save us, and so you willingly went there to suffer death and hell with the weight of the world’s sin on your shoulders. There you won salvation, there you answered our cries. We prayed that you would rend the heavens and come down and you answered, not with power or glory, but with humility and service, all for us and for our salvation. Then the earth would tremble again three days later, for you would rise triumphant over sin and death. You have conquered our enemies, you have defeated our foes, you have delivered us from bondage!
You have come; we waited for you and you came. But you did not come in a way that we would expect. You rent the heavens and came down, hidden under water, words, simple bread and wine. You won salvation by dying in our place on Calvary’s cross; you sealed that victory by walking from the empty tomb on Easter morning. But we, your people, do not have to go to Jerusalem to find forgiveness. You who ascended into heaven still come to us bearing those gifts. You have come to us this very day. You rent the heavens and came down to Thain, making him your own child, giving to him all that you won with your shed blood. You will rend the heavens and come down to us with your Body and Blood in just a few moments, bringing the gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation. You come to us in your Word, bearing forgiveness, teaching us and strengthening our faith. You come to us in ways that seem foolish to our world, ways that seem powerless and insignificant. Who could imagine a God who would save with a baby born in a barn, a man hanging dead on a cross, some water in a bowl, a book, a wafer, or a small glass of wine? “From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no one has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for Him.”
Come Lord Jesus, come back to us! “Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains might quake at your presence!” We wait eagerly for your return, for when you return, our eternal inheritance will be fully revealed. You will rend the heavens and come down, this time in power and majesty and glory. All creation will be shaken as it never has been before, for it will be remade, cleansed and purified from all sin, evil, and corruption. Come Lord Jesus, come back and accomplish all that you promised! Help us to wait in patience, to see you as you come in Word and in Sacrament, but always to eagerly cry out for your return. Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.
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