Last Sunday of the Church Year (Matthew 25:1-13)

“Watch therefore, for you do not know the day nor the hour.” 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 Last Sunday of the Church Year is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the twenty-fifth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ, keep watch, for the end is coming. It is coming like a thief in the night, suddenly, at an hour that you do not expect. If the master of the house had known when the robbers would come, he would’ve been sitting in his living room at that very hour, shotgun in hand. But he doesn’t know when they are coming, and so he must constantly keep watch. There are no more events that need to occur before Jesus can return; the signs He promised have been happening since He ascended into heaven, and they will continue until He returns, exhorting us to be watchful. Every war, every natural disaster, every instance of persecution is a warning, a call to be watchful, a reminder that the end is coming. Don’t be deceived by date-setters; Jesus could come today or tomorrow or the next day; nothing needs to happen that hasn’t already occurred. Our Lord didn’t preach complacency, but vigilance; His return will be sudden, it will come at a day and an hour that no one expected except those who were constantly vigilant, constantly watchful. For such people, the kind of people Christ calls on His Church to be, the end is sudden, but not surprising.
The end is coming at a day and an hour that no one knows, but it is surely coming; no one in the Church or the world should be surprised. Jesus certainly made Himself very clear. He who died for the sin of the world, rose again in victory over the grave, and ascended to the right hand of the throne of God will return from that throne on the Last Day to bring the present order to an end, establishing the new heavens and the new earth. As He said in Matthew chapter twenty-four: “Then will appear in heaven the sign of the Son of Man, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And He will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.” The Church has been preaching these words for over two thousand years; in fact, the Church is nothing else than those gathered in eager anticipation of Christ’s return. Why did the virgins gather? Only to meet the bridegroom. “The kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom.”

The Church is the assembly of the saints crying out, “Come, Lord Jesus!” The world knows this, it knows the Church’s message, that her Lord is not only risen from the dead but is returning on the Last Day. Christ’s bride cannot tell the world the day or the hour, but she has always declared that He is surely coming. And if the world knows this, then surely those within the Church should know this. Why else do we gather? Only to meet the Bridegroom. When that Day comes, when the voice cries out, no person should be surprised. “Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!”
On that Day there are no surprises; no one who was prepared will be shut out, and no one who was unprepared will be let in. There is no hidden or secret knowledge here, no codebook to learn. Jesus was quite clear, and His Church has been quite clear in preaching His Words. It has not been kept from anyone how to be prepared for that Day. But still, inexplicably, the ten virgins of the Church are not all prepared: “Five of them were foolish, and five were wise.” All ten were virgins, make clean and pure in the waters of Holy Baptism and brought into the Church, the virgin bride of Christ. All ten carried lamps, shining out their light before men in good works, maybe even making confession with their lips. And all ten fell asleep, that is, they all, wise or foolish, died.

But the foolish virgins were lacking something; few realized it simply by looking at them, but they themselves knew. Their virgin purity shone forth in the light of their lamps, but they had forgotten something. “When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them.” They may be in the outward fellowship of the Church, they may have been baptized, their names may appear in a church directory, but there is no oil, they have no faith. They have let their hearts grow cold toward Christ. They have long ago let the cares and concerns of this world overcome their faith. Some of them may go to worship, even partake of the Lord’s Supper, volunteer in their community and do good works in the name of Christ, but it is all a sham, a deception to impress others; they despise and reject what they hear. And they know it; whether they have abandoned the church or keep up a pretense, whether they have openly rejected Him or quietly lost their faith in apathy, they know they have discarded Christ.
The wise virgins have also been made pure in the waters of Holy Baptism, they too shine forth their lamps in good works and the confession of Christ with the lips. And they too fall asleep; being wise doesn’t spare anyone from death. But they are prepared. It is no surprise who is wise and who is foolish; neither group should be shocked. Jesus isn’t operating by deception or in secrets, He has made it quite plain what the wisdom He seeks consists in. “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.” The wise virgins are those who hear the Word of God and believe by the power of the Holy Spirit; the oil in their lamps are the gifts of the Gospel, received by faith. Their lamps shine because they burn with the oil given by Jesus; their good works flow from faith.

One is not prepared for the return of Christ by their outward purity, by their good works, or having their names in a church directory. None of those things matter at all apart from faith. Those who believe are prepared. And it is no surprise where this faith is given; it is no surprise where virgins are made wise and prepared for the coming of the Bridegroom: this only happens in the fellowship of the Church, gathered around Christ’s Holy Word and His precious Sacraments. There Christ puts oil in our flasks, there He makes us prepared, by forgiving our sins and strengthening our faith as we wait for His return. There we are strengthened by our fellow believers and encouraged to patience. The Church isn’t some sort of secret society, imparting the codebook that will get you into heaven; the Church preaches the Word clearly and boldly to the entire world, the Word that creates faith in our crucified and risen Savior, the only oil that can keep lamps burning and make us prepared for the Bridegroom’s return.

And He will return, as He promised. His return will be sudden, but it should take no one by surprise. And it will not surprise anyone what the consequences will be. “The bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut.” On that Day, the voice will announce the Bridegroom’s return, and all those who slept the sleep of death will be awakened, wise or foolish. It will then be no surprise on that Day that the door is open to the wise, to those who believe. Their purity is not their own, but is given by Christ; they wear the robe of His righteousness. Their good works shine forth and are pleasing to God because they burn on the oil of Christ’s gifts, they flow from faith in Him. They enter only through Jesus. “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.” It is then no surprise when the foolish virgins find the door shut. “Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he answered, ‘Truly I say to you, I do not know you.’” He doesn’t know them because they didn’t know Him; they trusted in their works or their appearances, but not in Jesus.
Many foolish virgins live their lives apart from Christ, believing that they will have a second chance to make things right with God before that Day comes, or even after it has arrived. “And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’” That is what makes them foolish; it should be no surprise that on that Day there will be no second chances, it will be too late. “But the wise answered, saying, ‘Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’” The wise virgins are glad to show others where to obtain oil—the Divine Service—but on that Day, it is too late. The door is shut.
“Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Keep watch, as wise virgins, dear friends, not as the foolish ones. You have been made pure by the work of Christ, cleansed by Him in Holy Baptism. You have heard His Word proclaim to you that your sins are forgiven; Christ’s death and resurrection have been applied directly to you. You have received His Body and Blood, given and shed for you on the cross, given to you to eat and to drink in the Supper. The door stands open for you, because Christ died and rose again to open it for you. That door received Aaron after his idolatry, admitted David after his adultery, after his homicide; that door did not repel the disciples after they abandoned Christ, and it will not be shut against you. The same forgiveness that Christ bestowed on the saints of old belongs to you, for Christ died for all; His blood was shed for your sin, and only by His blood do you have access to the feast. You will enter in with joy, joining the Bridegroom’s feast, for you have the oil that is not your own, but has been given to you by Jesus through His Church. You are wise because you have been made wise by Christ, and therefore for you the cry of the watchman is a cry of joy: “Here is the Bridegroom! Come out to meet Him!” Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.

Trinity 24 (Matthew 9:18-26)

“My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” “If I only touch His garment, I will be made well.” 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 evening comes from the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the ninth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ: “…and was made man.” Four words; one profound mystery. “…and was made man.” Many Christians throughout the centuries have bowed at these words, even genuflected, kneeling to the ground in adoration. You are free to observe these words in whatever way your personal piety directs, but you are not free to ignore them. “…and was made man.” These words are so profound, so amazing, so incredible because of what has been said just before them. “I believe…in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of His Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made.” This same Jesus Christ, the Son of God, of one substance with the Father, was the very One who “for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary and was made man.” God became man; the Second Person of the Trinity took on our human flesh. He did not become an angel or some other creature—He was made man. 

Faith clings to the Incarnation, it holds tightly to the wondrous words, “and was made man.” Faith adores the mystery, not as some sort of museum piece, a magic trick, but as a miracle absolutely essential to salvation. We have a God who can be touched, who can touch us, and that touch has great power, the power to save. We have a God who became like us in every way; who shared all of our sorrows, who knew all our griefs, who experienced all of our temptations, yet without sin. That is the God that we cling to; that is the God we cry out to.

Sometimes the voice of faith cries out boldly, confidently, assured of Christ’s deliverance, convinced that He will truly act. “While He was saying these things to them, behold, a ruler came in and knelt before Him, saying, ‘My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.’” Sometimes the voice of faith is confident, not in itself—no, faith is never confident in itself—but only in its object, the Word made flesh. Trust is placed in the Incarnation; that this man, walking this earth with the same anatomy as any other man, is God Almighty, God become man. The ruler doesn’t trust in a phantom, in an angel, but in a man: “Lay your hand on her, and she will live.” We are surrounded by death; death on the news, death among our friends, death in our families, death in our homes. The cruelty of death we have seen close up and personal; we have seen its cold fingers take those whom we love. There is only One who can save, only One who can help, and the voice of faith cries out with all boldness and confidence, knowing that He will come to our aid.

Sometimes the voice of faith cries out meekly, humbly, hoping against hope that the Savior will act. Sometimes the voice of faith is so beaten down by affliction that all it can do is repeat words of hope, earnestly wishing that the night of suffering is over, that the day has come. “And behold, a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His garment, for she said to herself, ‘If I only touch His garment, I will be made well.’” Sometimes the voice of faith is hanging on by a thread, afraid to be bold and direct, simply yearning for the crumbs that fall from the Master’s table. Trust is placed in the Incarnation, that this man, walking the earth as any other man, is God of God and Light of Light, of one substance with the Father. This woman isn’t asking for help from a ghost, from the spirits of the saints of old, but she literally clings to a man, a human being, God in the flesh. “If I only touch His garment, I will be made well.” We are all dying; some more quickly than others, but from the moment when we take our first breath, we are coming closer to our last. There is only One who can help, and the voice of faith cries out in humility, knowing that it deserves nothing from the Word made flesh, but trusting in His compassion and His promises, the promises that sent Him to this earth in the first place.

And Jesus hears, He listens; He has compassion, He has mercy, He shows forth His love. “Jesus turned, and seeing her He said, ‘Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.’ And instantly the woman was made well.” The touch of Jesus brings healing; His garment is grasped after by a desperate soul, clinging to the promises of God in the midst of a dozen years of affliction. Her faith was not shown forth in boldness, but in meekness and humility; she was the poor in spirit to who belongs the kingdom of heaven. His grip on her was much stronger than hers on Him; it is the object of faith, not faith itself, that makes all the difference. She who was slowly dying is given life in the midst of death; the Incarnation saved her. On His way to raise the dead, Jesus heals the dying. Then He comes to the house of death, the abode of sin’s penalty. He sends away the mourners, saying, “The girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at Him. The world mocks the Incarnation, they cannot believe that any man can raise the dead. But this is not any man; this is God of God and Light of Light, very God of very God, who “was made man.” Just as the ruler so confidently declared, the confidence born only of faith in the Incarnate Son of God, Jesus heals with a touch. “He went in and took her by the hand, and the girl arose.”

Jesus didn’t take flesh simply to ‘walk a mile in our shoes,’ or only to give us an example of how we should live according to God’s Word. We do have a God who became like us in every way; who shared all of our sorrows, who knew all our griefs, who experienced all of our temptations, yet without sin. This is all true and filled with comfort for us, but His coming in the flesh served an even greater purpose. He was made man “for us and for our salvation;” He was made man to bring life in the midst of death. Only as true man could the Son of God fulfill the Law perfectly in our place; only as true man could He be our substitute. And only as true man could the Son of God die. The Incarnation leads to the crucifixion; Christmas leads to Good Friday. We confess that this God made man “was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate. He suffered and was buried.” Only as true man could Jesus pay the price we owed, destroying the corruption of sin that leads inevitably to death. And only as true man could He conquer death for us by rising from the grave. “And the third day He rose again according to the Scriptures and ascended into heaven.” The resurrection has meaning and significance for us, and is a true defeat of death, only if He rose again as true man.

And now, only as true man does Jesus interact with us. “…and was made man” is not some artifact of history, a tactic that God used to deliver us from our sin and then discarded. No, the same One who was made man still is man, and as man He “sits at the right hand of the Father.” And from that throne, as true man, He touches us with salvation, He drives away death from us. ‘Come and lay your hands on me, and I will live,’ we say. And He does, touching us with water joined to His Word, a washing that gives eternal life, that defeats death by giving new birth. ‘If I only touch his garment, I will be saved,’ we say. And we do, as we touch bread and wine joined to His holy Body and His precious Blood, the medicine of immortality, the antidote to death. His Incarnation touches us to give us life. Finally, on the Last Day, as true man “He will come again with glory to judge both the living and the dead, whose kingdom will have no end.” In the new heavens and the new earth, as He is true man and remains true man, so we will be true man, truly human, as God created us to be, forever. Therefore, with joy, “I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.”

Trinity 23 (Philippians 3:17-21)

“Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables Him even to subject all things to Himself.” 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 evening comes from the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the third chapter of Paul’s letter to the Church of God in Philippi. Dear friends in Christ: Imitate me, Paul says. Follow my example. See my pattern and walk in it. Look to me as your guide. “Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.” He doesn’t point us to the saints of old, or even to Jesus; Paul points us to himself. “Join in imitating me.” How bold, how daring, how arrogant. Just who does he think he is? We have an automatic aversion to those who set themselves up as moral examples, who tell us to look to them as a pattern of teaching or life. Politicians, pastors, and celebrities; we’ve seen them all shipwrecked just when we thought we could trust them. But Paul is a different kind of example; yes, he knows exactly who he is, and that is precisely the point. The pattern he sets is as a forgiven sinner. “Join in imitating me,” Paul says, not as a man who is sinless, but as one who has renounced the world in repentance and faith. “Join in imitating me,” Paul says, in being a foreigner and stranger in this world, as one whose citizenship is in heaven.

You see, there are only two passports that you can carry, only two citizenships that you can have, and you can’t have both at the same time. Both citizenships are given at birth; either your natural conception and birth, or the rebirth of water and the Word in Holy Baptism. There are only two paths, two ways to walk: either you will imitate Paul as a citizen of heaven, or you will imitate those around you as a citizen of earth. “For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ.” Citizens of earth are enemies of Christ’s cross; they despise the cross and reject all that it stands for and all that it gives. Some use the cross as an excuse for sin, for giving in to the desires of the flesh. I’m forgiven, they say, set free from the Law, and so I can live how I want. God likes to forgive, I like to sin, so I’ll do what I want and He can do what He wants. Others have no desire for what the cross gives. They don’t believe that they are sinners, or they deny that what they are doing is sin. They look for loopholes, they try to make gray what God made black and white. They explain away God’s Law, giving in to Satan’s first lie: “Did God really say?”

Citizens of earth cling to, and even worship, the things of this world. That is what rules them, instead of the Word of God. Their natural desires and appetites, their body’s sinful inclinations, govern their actions. Citizens of this earth do what feels good, without regard for how their actions affect others or offend God. As Paul says, “Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.” Their god is their belly, or other organs; they worship the desires of their body, giving in to what their flesh, corrupted by sin since the Fall, wants. Citizens of earth glory in their shame; they boast about their sin. They take pride in what they have done. What else is a homosexual ‘wedding’ or a transgender magazine cover than glorying in shame? Do not imitate them! Their end is destruction, for they have worshipped what will be destroyed, what does not last. When you live as a citizen of this earth, dear friends, you are clinging to those things that are temporary, while forgetting of the things of eternity. You are shortsighted; your eyes are fixed on those things that corrupt you, abuse you, and then will pass away. If your god is temporary, if he will be destroyed on the Last Day, then you will be destroyed too, along with all who trusted in him.

Repent. Repent in imitation of Paul. “Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.” Renounce the things of this world; renounce your citizenship on this earth and live as a stranger and foreigner here, with your citizenship in heaven. Citizens of earth glory in their shame; citizens of heaven count all earthly glory as worthless, as rubbish. Imitate Paul in seeing every reason for boasting before the world as so much garbage next to Christ’s salvation. Imitate Paul in renouncing, putting to death the desires of the flesh in repentance. Citizens of heaven take no pride in the things of this world, in the glory that this world bestows on those who embrace its ways, its citizenship. Citizens of heaven care little for what the world says about them, for what the world threatens to do to them. They know who their Lord is; they know of His victory over the world, and in that victory they trust even if they are put to shame before the eyes of others around them. Citizens of heaven do not glory in their sins, they do not boast in them, but they repent of them, crucifying their sinful desires and appetites in repentance and faith. They put their flesh to death daily, returning to that moment in time when their citizenship in this world was removed, replaced with the citizenship of heaven. Each and every day they look to their mark of citizenship, their passport, the sign of the holy cross made upon their forehead and upon their heart as they were given a new birth in water and the Word.

Citizens of heaven cling to Christ’s cross; they know their sin and they look toward their Savior, crucified and risen, for forgiveness. “Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” We are strangers and foreigners here, bearing the mark of another citizenship, gathering in embassies scattered throughout this world, outposts of heaven upon this fallen earth, receiving grace and mercy from our Savior. Only such a Savior, Jesus Christ, could make you a citizen of heaven, a member of His Kingdom, by taking you from the citizenship of your birth, giving to you a new passport stamped in His blood. You do not have to pay for your citizenship, or earn it in any way; it is not for you or anyone else to bestow. Your citizenship was won for you by Jesus, He paid with His own life the high price required to take you from the citizenship of earth that leads only to destruction to the citizenship of heaven that gives life, and life to the full. Only such a Savior, Jesus Christ, can bring you back to your heavenly citizenship when you have strayed. He calls you back through His Law, and He forgives you through His Gospel, reaffirming your citizenship every time you repent by His mercy and love.

Citizens of heaven imitate Paul’s example of repentance and then set themselves forth as an example for others. This is not to be done in pride and arrogance, by Paul or anyone else. Instead, this is an act of service, done in humility under Christ for the good of our fellow citizens who need our help, our example. Every citizen of heaven should be able to say to their brothers and sisters in Christ: “Join in imitating me.” Imitate me in repentance, imitate me in clinging to Christ’s cross, imitate me in renouncing the desires of the flesh, and together, on the glorious Day that is coming, we will imitate Christ. “Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables Him even to subject all things to Himself.” Citizens of earth worship and serve the sinful inclinations and desires of their bodies; citizens of heaven renounce those desires and put them to death, looking toward that Day when Christ will transform these bodies of sin to be like His glorious Body. Citizens of heaven do not hate their bodies, but they do look toward the day when those bodies will be as God created them to be: without sin, pure and holy forever. Jesus is coming, and He is coming to make your body imitate His in glory, in holiness, in righteousness and purity forever. Jesus is coming and He is coming to conform you, body and soul, to Himself. The glory of Easter will one day be yours, because you are a citizen of heaven, covered in the shed blood of Jesus Christ, and you await His return in glory, the very glory of heaven. He who has been given all power and all glory by virtue of His victory over sin and death will with that same power call you forth from your grave on that glorious Day, and you will finally come to your homeland, where your citizenship truly lies, to live with Him forever. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Reformation (Matthew 11:12-19)

“To what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to their playmates, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. Our text this evening as we continue to commemorate the Reformation is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the eleventh chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ: April 18th, 1521. Worms, Germany. The band is warmed up and ready to play. The lead singer is Charles the Fifth, Holy Roman Emperor and one of the most powerful men in the world. His backup singers and instrumentalists are the bishops, princes, and priests, all gathered around him. The dancer is a young monk named Martin Luther, standing on the dance floor for all to see. The tune was called the day before, and it was clear and unmistakable: Repent! “First, do you acknowledge that these books here now named publically to you one by one, which are published in your name as author are yours? Next, do you wish to retract and recall them and their contents or to cling to them henceforth and insist on them?” Dance, Luther, dance! The tune has been called, the music is playing—dance! You know how easy it would be; you can feel your body swaying to the music. This song has one word, and you can sing it whenever you like: Revoco, ‘I recant.’ Repent, recant, take it all back. Dance, Luther, dance!

The world calls the tune, it brings the instruments, it provides the dance floor, and only one thing is demanded of us, exactly what was demanded of Luther: Dance! The music is all around us; it is blared forth from television and movies, we hear the song sung by our friends and family, people are tapping their toes to it at school or in the park. Dance, Christian, dance! You know you want to; it’s so easy—just follow everyone else’s moves; staying away from church, using filthy language, destroying reputations, having sex outside of marriage, denying Jesus as the only Savior and Lord, being ashamed of the name ‘Lutheran’ and seeking to be a generic Christian. This is no ordinary dance; there is a cost for sitting this one out. Those who play the music will not tolerate anyone sitting out, or dancing to another tune. “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” The world exacts a price for refusing to dance to the tune it has called. It can destroy your reputation, shame you in front of your friends, beat you up, or even take your life. Refusing to dance may mean sacrificing your life, money, job, family, success, or happiness.

And we won’t pay the price. The world says, ‘Dance!’ and we say, ‘Like this?’ We give in, we dance to the world’s tune, we conform ourselves to the world and its priorities. We sway to the world’s tune, we dance to the music it plays for us. We listen to the notes, we indulge ourselves, and soon we are moving to the music. We are afraid to pay the price the world charges for being different, and so we crumble, we lose our spine, we wimp out. We do not stand against the world, we give into it. We fail to follow the example set by Luther. He stood in the spotlight; the band was playing, and all were calling to him, ‘Dance, Luther, dance!’ But he refused. “Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason, I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not retract anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. I cannot do otherwise, here I stand, may God help me, Amen.” The world said, ‘Dance!’ and he said, ‘Here I stand!’

Luther was willing to pay the price; although he would die in bed, he would be an outlaw for the rest of his life, with martyrdom always around the corner. He knew when he said those famous words that the world would not be happy, that it would fulfill the words of Christ: “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” The world had no kindness for John when he refused to dance to the world’s tune, nor did it have any for Christ Himself. “To what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to their playmates, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’” The world called the tune, they wanted John and Jesus to be the kind of prophet, the kind of Messiah that they wanted: Dance, John, dance! Dance, Jesus, dance! But they would not. They refused, and the world didn’t spare them. First the world slandered them: “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at Him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’” But the world did not stop with slander; those who will not dance to the world’s tune must be stopped by any means necessary. Luther died in bed; John would lose his head, and Jesus? He was nailed to a cross.

That is the fate that awaits you if you stand against the world, if you make the bold confession of Jesus, if you live different than your friends. This is the fate that awaits you if you hold to Lutheran theology among other Christians or those only pretending to be Lutheran: you will bear a cross. You will die—if not a martyr’s bloody death, you will certainly die to friends and family; you will die to yourself. “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” But take heart, dear friends: the world doesn’t get to play the last note. “For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John, and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come.” John the Baptist, languishing in prison, soon to lose his head, by all appearances a defeated failure, conquered by the world: this man is ‘Elijah who is to come.’ And if he is Elijah, who comes to prepare the way of the Lord, than the man who speaks must be the Messiah, the Lord come in the flesh. Like John, this Jesus won’t dance to the world’s tune, and He will be hung upon a cross for it; He had only to say the word, He had only to recant His teachings, and His life would be spared, but He refused. ‘Here I stand,’ He declared to the world, as He hung upon Golgotha’s bloody tree.

Jesus and His Word, by all appearances, were powerless on that day, and the world shouted with triumph. But Jesus told us: “Wisdom is justified by her deeds.” The Wisdom of God seems foolish to the world, but it will be justified, it will be proven right only three days later. Jesus rose, triumphant over this world, victorious over death, proving that His Word is true, it stands forever, that nothing can or ever will overcome it, or any who cling to the Word in faith. “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” Hear the Word; do not depend upon appearances, but listen to Jesus. The same One who said, “He is Elijah who is to come,” when John sat in prison, who said, “It is finished” when He died upon the tree, is the One who says to you through St. Paul: “There is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” This is the promise that you have despite all that the world does to you, despite the price it exacts from you, even if it declares you an outlaw like Luther or makes you a martyr like John. It is on this Word that you can rely, this is your rock in the storm; on this Word you take your stand.

The Reformation isn’t some moral parable about taking a stand on something and opposing the authorities that get you down. The Reformation is all about taking a stand against the world on the truth of the God’s Word. The Reformation isn’t just a call to confess anything, but a call to confess the Scriptures rightly. The world calls on you to change your confession, to change your life; to live and speak like those around you, to dance to its enticing tune. Dance, Lutherans, dance! Give up your confession, quit insisting on pure doctrine, acknowledge that all roads lead to God, or else! But the music you hear is Christ’s tune, and it speaks to you of victory even when all seems to be defeat: “And take they our life / Goods, fame, child, and wife / Let these all be gone, / They yet have nothing won; / The kingdom ours remaineth.” In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Trinity 18 (Deuteronomy 10:12-21)

“Circumcise therefore the foreskin of your heart, and no longer be stubborn.” 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 morning is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the tenth chapter of Deuteronomy. Dear friends in Christ, the First Commandment is the commandment of faith, the commandment that can only be fulfilled by faith. “You shall have no other gods. What does this mean? We should fear, love, and trust in God above all things.” This commandment cares little for the outward show, for going through the motions, for empty ritual without faith; circumcise your hearts, God says, for without repentance and faith, the circumcision of the flesh matters little. “And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments and statutes of the Lord, which I am commanding you today for your good?” This long list all comes down to the First Commandment: fear, love, and trust in God above all things. That is faith, without which none of the commandments can be kept. That is faith, apart from which any amount of good works, any amount of keeping the Law, is completely and utterly worthless. The good works of those who do not believe in the true God are simply a show and a mask, they are empty, hollow, hiding an uncircumcised heart.

They do not impress God, for He shows none of the partiality that we find in the world; He cares little for anything done outside of faith. The philanthropist, the benevolent ruler, the pious pagan receive none of His favor if they do not fear, love, and trust in Him above all things. Nor does He show favor to one with power, or riches, or worldly influence. It’s ridiculous, utter foolishness, to think that the things that impress men will ever impress God. “Behold, to the Lord your God belong heaven and the heaven of heavens, the earth with all that is in it.” All things belong to Him—all things. All riches, all power, all influence. All things belong to Him, and so He is not impressed by the little we possess. He shows no partiality; He bestows His grace not to those who are great in the eyes of the world, but to those whom He chooses. And know this, dear friends in Christ—He chose you. All things belong to Him, yet He chose you to be His child, He chose you, and in that choosing, He gave you faith.

“Yet the Lord set His heart in love on your fathers and chose their offspring after them, you above all peoples, as you are this day.” He chose Israel, selected her out from the nations, and gave to her the commandment that is also a promise: “You shall have no other gods.” They have no need of other gods, for the only true God, the Creator of the universe, is their God. He promised to be their God, and He promised that they would be His people. He chose them despite their lack of power, despite the sin they would commit, He chose them even though at their greatest glory they would only occupy a spit of land in a dusty corner of the world. In love He chose them, love for them and love for the world, He chose them in His love for you.

He to whom all things belong chooses the downtrodden, the weak, the insignificant; He shows no partiality, He does not operate as the world does. He chose a nation insignificant on the world’s stage to restore the cosmos, to even defeat death. He chose a peasant girl to bear in her virgin womb His Son, the Messiah, Jesus Christ. And in Christ, by His blood and merit, by His death and resurrection, He chooses the weak, those battered by their sins, those who despair of any aid, who are meek and mourning, those hungering and thirsting for righteousness. He shows no partiality. He does not give life to the rich, but to those who are poor in spirit; He does not give forgiveness to the powerful, but to the helpless; salvation He gives not to the one who believes anything sincerely, but to the one who believes in Him, who holds fast to His promises.

He chooses you. He chooses you in Christ, His Son, crucified and risen for the poor and downtrodden, crucified and risen for you. He saved you when you were poor in spirit, trampled upon by this cruel world. He saved you when you had nothing to give to Him; you may have worldly power, riches, or influence, but none of that means anything before Him, none of that can pay for your sin or earn you salvation. He died for you even though you had nothing to give Him, when you had nothing that He needed. So if you are a fool, a despairing and despised sinner, or if you have been judged and condemned—so what? Here is the God of gods, who does not regard persons or care for their gifts. He cares for you, a sinner and a fool. What could happen that might sadden you? What sin could oppress you, what could cause you to despair? Yes, what height, what depth, what present thing, what creature could either puff you up or humble you?

“God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” God chose you in Christ; He chose you at the baptismal font, He chose you in the call of His Word, He chose you when you had nothing to give Him in return. He does not operate as the world operates, He doesn’t follow the pattern we set. “The Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who is not partial and takes no bribe.” He doesn’t defer to the mighty, He doesn’t show His grace only to those who can afford it. He is no respecter of persons, even those who ‘live a good life’ in obedience to His Law. Without obedience to the First Commandment, without faith, such things have no effect upon Him. We cannot bribe our Creator with our good works; He can only be clung to in faith. “Circumcise therefore the foreskin of your heart, and be no longer stubborn.” If you are hoping that your church attendance, or your offering totals, or your church offices held will make the difference on Judgment Day, you will be sorely mistaken, as mistaken as if you trusted in your wealth, your power, or your influence among men. The only thing that matters on Judgment Day is Christ, and His love to the downtrodden, His love to you, received only by faith.

God will not be bribed; He shows no partiality. He loved you when you were weak and helpless, sentenced to death by your sin. He loved you and He chose you, claiming you as His very own child by pouring water upon your head. You had nothing to give Him, and He gave you everything; He to whom belong heaven and the heaven of heavens, the earth with all that is in it gave to you forgiveness, life, and salvation. He is not the God of the rich and mighty, but of the downtrodden and the stranger. “He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving Him food and clothing.” Not only the spiritually poor does He provide for, but also the physically poor. The God who chose His people Israel when they were insignificant, the God who chose you when you were insignificant, sends forth His people to provide for the insignificant around us.

God is consistent throughout both the Old and New Testaments: His people are called upon to care for the fatherless and the widow, the poor and the stranger. Why? Because they too were once outcast and they were chosen in grace, delivered in mercy by the God who loves strangers. “Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.” Love the downtrodden, for you were downtrodden by your sins. Love the stranger, for you were estranged from your God. Love the poor, for you were poor in spirit. Love the fatherless, for you had no father before your baptism into Christ. Love the outcast, for you were an outcast. It is for this very reason that God gives you riches or influence; not to impress Him, but to serve the less fortunate around you.

Too long have we let politics distract us from our responsibility to the downtrodden, either letting the government take care of this task or forgetting our command from God to care for the poor as we argue against the welfare state. Christians who are political conservatives or progressives forget that whatever the government’s role might be in providing for the needy, the Church has a role given by God Himself. Too long have we let bad theology by others keep us from caring for others. Too long have we abandoned the poor, leaving the needy to shiver in the cold, too long has what was such a large part of the early church’s work been reduced to a small line-item in the congregational budget, if it appears at all. The Church is not only the place of welcome for the spiritually downtrodden, but it should also be a place of welcome for the physically downtrodden People should not leave this place with full ears but an empty stomach. “Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.”

It all comes back to the First Commandment, the identity of your God. “You shall fear the Lord your God. You shall serve him and hold fast to him, and by his name you shall swear. He is your praise. He is your God, who has done for you these great and terrifying things that your eyes have seen.” What kind of God do you have? Your God is the God of the poor and downtrodden, the meek and humble. Your God is the God who saved you, who delivered you when you were beaten down by your sins and condemned to death, when you had nothing at all to give Him but your corruption. Your obedience to the Law, even your service to the poor, means nothing to God without faith. The downtrodden are served in many places, but there is only one place where this service flows from faith: the Church. Only in the Church are the poor served by good works that are not hollow and empty, but filled with faith. The world simply points the finger, or makes more laws, when people fail to serve the downtrodden; the Church gives forgiveness, saying to those, to you and me, who are humbled by our sins of commission and omission: “I forgive you all your sins in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” That is our God, a God of forgiveness for the sake of His Son’s shed blood, who has done great and terrifying things, even dying and rising again for His poor, downtrodden people, even for you and me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Installation of the Rev. Jesse Burns (Isaiah 52:7-10)

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news!” 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 joyous afternoon is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the fifty-second chapter of the prophet Isaiah. Dear friends in Christ: the feet are dirty, dusty, smelly. They are caked with mud, covered in callouses, afflicted with blisters. Every mile is revealed in those hardened soles, every step is reflected in the filth that dwells between the toes. The feet are a horror to look at, their stench causes many to recoil, it drives some people away. But not those who were waiting for just such feet. To them, these feet are the most beautiful sight of all. The mud and dust is a delight to the eyes, the stench is a pleasing aroma, for these feet carry a voice. The filth doesn’t matter, in fact, these feet are treasured despite their dirt and grime because it was their task to take a voice to those who were appointed to hear it, to those who needed to hear it. The voice carries words that he has been sent to speak, words that are not his own, but have been given to him. These feet are treasured, they are beautiful, because they carry a voice that publishes peace, bringing good news of happiness, publishing salvation. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news!” 

This voice, carried upon beautiful feet, speaks to ruins, to a desolate waste. This voice speaks to eyes that can only see destruction, a city that has become a desert. Eyes look around them and see tottering buildings, steeples falling, pews emptying, budgets getting tighter and youth groups dwindling. Eyes see a culture that has become a wasteland, that swallows up the unprepared and kills them slowly with its promises of freedom, freedom that is actually bondage. Eyes see a church that is increasingly marginalized, that is driven out of the public square into the wilderness. Then eyes look closer to home, and see the wasteland that is their own life. Their relationships are a barren land, torn by anger and enmity, shattered by divorce and break-ups. Their body is a ruined city, as their health fails, as they live in the bondage of disease and addiction. And every day spent trying to get ahead in the wilderness, trying to provide for their family, just shows how parched the desert really is. The eyes can see no hope of salvation; the ruins cannot resurrect themselves, the wasteland cannot make itself a fertile field. Scaffolding cannot save a tottering church or society, any solution that the ruins propose is doomed to failure. Government cannot legislate away the desert, medicine cannot overcome the wasteland, the church finds each of its own solutions futile against the wilderness.

It is to those very ruins, the ruins of a shattered society and shattered church, the ruins of shattered lives, that God sends a voice, a voice to speak His Word: “The voice of your watchmen—they lift up their voice; together they sing for joy; for eye to eye they see the return of the Lord to Zion.” The voice is the voice of the watchman, who declares the return of the Lord to His people, who calls on them to make themselves ready for His coming. The voice calls for paths to be made straight, for mountains to be laid low, for rough places to be made a plain. In short, the voice calls for repentance. The voice calls on eyes who see the desolation around them so well to see the wasteland within and turn away from it. The voice calls out sins by name, specifically warning his hearers from the paths of the desert, from the bondage of the wilderness. He has a solemn charge from God: “Whenever you hear a word from my mouth, you shall give them warning from me.” Woe to the voice who does not speak! The wicked will die in his sins, but the voice will be held accountable; he is compelled by God Himself to speak.

But the voice is not only compelled to speak a word of warning; he prepares for the coming of the Lord by calling for repentance, but as a watchman on the ruined walls, it is his joy to announce the coming banners of the King. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’” The voice cannot bring salvation, any more than the ruins can resurrect themselves, but it is his great joy to announce it. The King has returned, He has come in the flesh, and He has returned to resurrect the shattered walls, to renew the desert, to make the wasteland a fertile field. The voice announces that the King, Jesus Christ, came into the wilderness to overcome it, that He gave Himself up into death, even death upon a cross, to destroy the power that the desert of death had over you. He bore your sins, every one of them, to the cross; He laid them on His own back, and then exposed that back to the scourge and the whip for you to break your bonds. Jesus Christ came to His people, He came to you, in the midst of your distress, in the wasteland that fills your life, and He conquered it with His death and victorious resurrection. He comforts you in your distress, for He has redeemed you, He has paid the price for you with His own blood; the wilderness could not overcome Him, to the King belongs the victory, “Your God reigns!”

God reigns despite all the desolation that eyes see; God reigns, and the victory of Christ is given to all who are baptized into His Name. That is the message that the voice has been sent to speak into your life, in every situation: God reigns; look to the cross, not to the wasteland, to see the truth: sin, death, and hell, the wilderness, the wasteland, the desert, have been overcome, triumphed over by the King who returned, Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen One. That is what the voice declares: Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again! The voice tells you who dwell in the wilderness of sin that your sin is forgiven; when specific sins are condemned, the voice speaks specific forgiveness: Christ died for all sins, and the voice who hears your confession tells you that Christ died for that sin, too. The voice tells you, as hands splash water on your head, “I baptize you in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” and it declares to you with the words of Jesus, as hands place bread into your mouth and hold wine to your lips, “This is my Body; This is my Blood.” This voice comes into the midst of your lives lived in the wilderness, into your living room, to your bedside, holding your hand at the point of death and declaring, “Your God reigns!” The voice doesn’t bring salvation; all he can do is announce it, suffer for it, and die because of it. He cannot heal disease, fix every problem, or ‘save your congregation.’ He is only a voice, but a voice speaking of the victory that overcomes the devastation of sin.

And this voice calls on the ruins to rejoice in the salvation brought by Jesus, to celebrate the resurrection in the midst of the valley of the shadow of death. “Break forth together into singing, you waste places of Jerusalem, for the Lord has comforted His people; He has redeemed Jerusalem.” The voice calls on the ruins to rejoice even now, even in the midst of the wasteland, because salvation has come, victory has been won, and the day of vindication is near. God reigns, despite the desolation that fills this world; it is not what the eyes see but what the ears hear that is true: Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. The fact of the cross and empty tomb stand against the wilderness, they testify that the wasteland will one day be made fertile again, giving you hope as you walk in the desert. And so the ruins rejoice, they sing praises to the King, to Jesus Christ, their crucified and risen Lord, because they know that a Day is coming when eyes will see what voices speak and ears hear, when the victory proclaimed by the voice is seen clearly by the entire world. “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.”

The feet are dirty, dusty, smelly. They are caked with mud, covered in callouses, afflicted with blisters. They have traveled from Montana to Nebraska, from Nebraska to Indiana, from Indiana to Iowa to Indiana and back again, then from western Iowa to central Iowa. Every mile is revealed in those hardened soles, but there is more to this grime than the lengthy journey. These feet are those of a sinner, they carry not only the dust of the miles but the corruption of the Fall, they are in as need of the absolving Word of Christ as you are. The feet of a sinner cause many to recoil, they drive some people away; they cannot imagine that God would use such an instrument to speak His Word, and so many reject such earthly means. But not those who were waiting for just such feet. To you, the saints of Redeemer Lutheran Church, these feet are a beautiful sight. These feet are treasured despite their dirt and grime because it is their task to take a voice to those whom God appointed to hear it, to those who need to hear it. He brought the voice to you, for the voice is His instrument, to stand as a watchman on the ruins, warning from sin and proclaiming the Savior who has overcome it. This voice carries words that he has been sent to speak, words that are not his own, but have been given to him by Jesus Christ Himself. These feet are treasured, they are beautiful, because they carry a voice that publishes peace, bringing good news of happiness, publishing salvation. Rejoice in these feet, rejoice in the family that these feet have brought with it, but rejoice even more in the message the voice speaks. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news!” In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Kyle and Sarah Peters wedding (Genesis 2:7, 18-24)

“Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” Kyle and Sarah, friends and family gathered from near and far: Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. Our text on this day of joy is the Old Testament lesson you selected from Genesis chapter two, the creation of man, the creation of woman, the creation of marriage. Dear friends in Christ: like a cadence, like a drumbeat, on each and every day of creation we hear the refrain, “And God saw that it was good.” The moon and the sun are good, the animals are good, the land and the seas are good. But on the sixth day of creation, when God is at the very end of His work, he finds one thing, and one thing alone, that is not good, that is incomplete. His creation is not yet finished. “Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone.’” The entire universe has been put in place; the planets have been set in order, the laws of physics have been established, the ecosystem is in perfect balance. But yet creation is incomplete, it is not yet very good, because the man is alone.

Notice that it isn’t the man who voices this concern; it is God who sees this deficiency and promises to take action to rectify it. “I will make him a helper fit for him.” Man doesn’t know it, man doesn’t quite realize it, but he is alone, utterly alone. He is one half of a whole, he is fundamentally incomplete, he needs a “helper fit for him.” He needs companionship in this world, one like him, but yet different, to be an object of his love, his care and compassion. He needs a helper, a savior from his loneliness. He needs assistance in fulfilling the great command of the Lord, which will be given by God Himself, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it.” It makes little sense for God to give such a command, such a privilege, if the man is left alone. He cannot bring forth the next generation by himself; he, like most of God’s creation, needs a partner. And after the Fall into sin, there is another reason man needs woman: he needs her as an antidote to sin, to help him control sinful lust.

It is God who notices this deficiency, not the man, and it is God alone who provides for it. For some, He provides with a gift of grace, the gift of celibacy, the gift of remaining unmarried without being overcome by lust. But for most, He provides as He did for the first man, with the gift of a wife, a bride, a “helper fit for him.” This is a helper corresponding to him, like him, yet unlike, like two sides of a coin, two pieces of a puzzle. It is a helper that fits together with him, that complements him in every way. God brought all of the animals to Adam, one after another, so that he could make an exhaustive search for the helper that God said he needed. “But for Adam there was not found a helper fit for him.” No animal, no matter how beloved, could complete humanity, no animal could provide for all that the man needed. God must give to him a special creation, taken from him to be the perfect complement. “So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man He made into a woman and brought her to the man.” God gives the woman as a gift to the man; he does not take her in the passion of sinful lust, but he receives her as she is: a gift.

And the man receives her with joy, breaking forth into poetry: “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of Man.” She is the perfect helper, the perfect complement, the perfect savior from loneliness, because she was taken from the man himself. They are one flesh, and in their life together, and the lives of all their children, they will proclaim that reality. Moses reflects on this great mystery as he concludes our text: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” Even though sin has corrupted this relationship of husband and wife, it does not destroy it. Woman was taken from man to be the helper corresponding to him, and thus for the rest of creation women and men will be joined together as one flesh for mutual companionship, for the bringing forth of children, and for restraining sinful lust.

This day, you, Kyle and Sarah, intend to enter this blessed estate, established even before the Fall into sin. This day you leave father and mother, separating from their households to form your own, publically taking up new vocations, husband and wife. You, Kyle, take up the vocation of loving your wife as Christ has loved the Church, giving up your life for her, sacrificing yourself, with your selfish desires and sinful passions, for her good. You, Sarah, take up the vocation of submitting to your husband as the Church submits to Christ, in love and joy allowing him to lead your household, knowing that he sacrifices himself for you. Here before God and the world you publically declare that you will live together as husband and wife, making promises, taking vows. It is this public act, this objective fact, that remains true throughout all of the ups and downs of your marriage, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. God has joined you together, here, in this place, on September 19th, 2015, and what God has joined together, let not man separate.

This day you declare your love to one another, just as Moses teaches us that a man leaves his father and his mother and holds fast to his wife. You hold fast to one another in love, and not just any love, but the very love of Jesus Christ Himself. It is this love that sustains a marriage, for this love comes from outside of you, from the cross itself, from the wounds of Jesus. It is a love that is self-sacrificial, always placing the other and their needs ahead of your own. It is a love that is forgiving, founded on admitting sin and forgiving it. This is the love that all Christians are to show to their neighbors, and this day you are publically declaring that you have a new closest neighbor—each other. You will love each other by denying yourselves, by putting your pride to death. Don’t think you can do this on your own. You cannot give to each other what you haven’t first received. Therefore it is in this very place that you will receive from Christ the love and forgiveness which you then pour into your marriage, loving and forgiving each other.

Moses teaches us that after a man leaves his father and his mother and holds fast to his wife, “they shall become one flesh.” This day, you publically declare that you will live together as one flesh. Only once man and woman have publically left their father and mother and have been joined together in the sight of God and man, do they become one flesh. They do not come together in the passion of lust, in impurity, but only as those joined by God. A man does not take a woman whenever he wants, but he receives his bride as a gift from God’s hand. And together man and woman then bring forth new life, they give expression to the Lord’s commission in the Garden, “Be fruitful and multiply.”

Saint Paul was right when he said of marriage, “this mystery is profound.” The mystery of woman taken from man, only to be joined back to him as one flesh, is profound. But then he quickly adds, “I am saying that it refers to Christ and the Church.” The mystery is that from this day forward, Kyle and Sarah, you are publically showing forth in your own lives the very Gospel itself. Man was alone on the sixth day, but humanity was left alone after the Fall, estranged from the God who created us and subject to death and eternal damnation. But the Bridegroom sought His bride, God’s lonely people, and Jesus Christ took flesh to buy us back from the bondage of sin and death, paying this price with His own blood. Now risen from the dead, our Bridegroom washes us, pure as Sarah’s dress, in the waters of Holy Baptism, and He presents us to Himself as a radiant bride, invited to the marriage supper that will have no end. This promise is for you, Kyle and you, Sarah, and your marriage proclaims that reality to a world trapped in the darkness of sin. You love each other as Christ loved you, and gave Himself up for you, dying and rising again to abolish sin and death for you and for the entire world. In His Name, Amen.