Come to Bethlehem

Our nation is filled with little towns that are famous. Places like Plymouth and Valley Forge and Gettysburg are tiny in comparison to our biggest cities, yet they remain well known, because things happened there that ought not be forgotten.

Today we hear of another little town on the other side of the world that has become well known. That’s understating it by quite a bit. Today the prophet Micah tells us about a little town in which God’s own Son will be born. Micah speaks and says: “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you were small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.”

Historians tell us that Bethlehem’s population was only in the hundreds at the beginning of the New Testament. Why not choose Jerusalem, the nation’s capital and largest city, the center of commercial and political power, where people of royalty and wealth and influence lived? Maybe it was to show that God was not sending a commercial Messiah, or a political Messiah—the glory of His Messiah would be His humility. The calling card of His Messiah would be servanthood.

God routinely uses people from the margins, voices from the edge, seemingly insignificant people to accomplish his ends. Think of Moses, wondering “why would God pick me to lead his people?” Who did Jesus choose to lay the foundation for His church? Fishermen, former tax collectors, a few radicals thrown in for good measure. In today’s Gospel, Mary is amazed that God would even want to bother with her, much less bless her in this most peculiar way.

God’s choice of the little town of Bethlehem is part of a bigger pattern; a pattern that continues right throughout the New Testament era right down to the present day. In 1^st Corinthians, St. Paul writes: “Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong…so that no one can boast before him.”

God’s choice of the little town of Bethlehem can remind you that you cannot be too little or too insignificant for God to bless you. Bethlehem is a reminder to you when you feel belittled by others; when you feel loaded with guilt; when you struggle with the consequences of bad decisions. God has chosen you and me, and we don’t deserve it. Your place in God’s kingdom, your place in His family, is a result of his greatness, not ours. That’s good news.

But this is also a warning to those of us who may be caught up in human greatness. We tend to apply the motto “bigger is better” to just about everything: military power, business organization, even our churches. We may come to trust in our accomplishments so much that we stop delighting in God’s activity in our lives. Standing at the threshold of Christmas today, we have yet another chance to stop and change direction; to repent and receive the forgiveness of sins and a new outlook on life; an outlook that boasts in the Lord; an outlook that trusts in His upside-down wisdom.

God’s choice of the little town of Bethlehem also has something to say about life here in the real world. What I mean is this: Bethlehem definitely had its share of tragedies and heartbreak. In Bethlehem there is a burial stone that was a monument to great love and great loss. Here Jacob’s beloved wife Rachel died. Jacob loved Rachel so much he worked 14 years for her hand in marriage. She died as she gave birth to their son Benjamin, whom she named with her last cry. Centuries later, when thousands of Israelites were led to Babylon as captives, the prophet Jeremiah would write that “A voice is heard in Ramah…Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because her children are no more.”

In today’s Gospel we see Mary rejoicing, but she will soon have to flee Bethlehem with Joseph as King Herod slaughters the innocent boys of Bethlehem in a crazed attempt to get at Jesus. And later, the mother of our Lord will weep at the foot of her son’s cross.

God’s choice of Bethlehem says this to you today: Right in the middle of inhuman cruelty and national failure; right in the middle of haunting grief and bitter disappointment; right in the middle of a world gone mad, Jesus comes to you, the living good news of God himself. The prophet Micah admits that Israel may appear to be abandoned, but there is no defeat. When the Ruler comes, the scattered people of God will be reunited, will have security, and will live in peace. While there are real problems around us and real pain inside, Jesus has come to set things right. He comes to console you with his unstoppable love, and to make you bold by his resurrection.

And last but not least, God’s choice of the little town of Bethlehem was intentional. It sent a clear message to those paying attention about the identity of the child. Bethlehem is the place where the shepherd boy David was born and where he was living when he was chosen to become the greatest king that Israel ever had. Under David, Israel conquered all its enemies, extended its borders, established peace, and brought about a time of spiritual renewal. Much later, a Roman census would bring Mary and Joseph to the town of David where the King of all Kings would be born.

God’s choice of Bethlehem can steady you in life’s uncertainties. God is in control, it says. All rulers and powers will bow before Him. Jesus will always use His Kingly power to direct all things for your good.

One of the oldest Christian churches in the world, the Church of the Nativity, allegedly covers the site that made little Bethlehem the greatest location in Judah. What is unusual about the church is that the once normal entrance to the cave area is now so small that only one person can enter at a time, and you must stoop as you go in. Why it is that way? Reportedly, at one time Islamic horsemen rode into the church and trampled the cave areas, so to prevent future desecration—certainly to block a horse and rider—the doorway was made much smaller, and now you have to stoop to get in.

As we go to Bethlehem in spirit today and tomorrow, this is what we need to do. Stoop down. Humble yourself. Block everything else out, if only for a few devotional moments, and kneel at the manger of Jesus. Bow at the bedside of God in the flesh. See the baby whose goodness fills your emptiness; whose love consoles you in your sorrow; whose power will steady you in all the changes of life. Where meek souls will receive Him, still, the dear Christ enters in.

A Choice to Rejoice

Do you know who said these words?

“I live in a world of fools…Merry Christmas after Merry Christmas…what is Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money, a time for finding yourself a year older and not an hour richer? If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own Christmas pudding and burned with a stake of holly through his heart…Merry Christmas! Friends! Love! What could be more idiotic? Bah! Humbug!”

That’s Ebenezer Scrooge, of course, introduced to the world in 1843 in Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” When you try to find joy in material things, as Scrooge did, everything is humbug, because it doesn’t work. Now, that doesn’t stop us from trying. Preparing for Christmas seems to bring this to the forefront. If you are looking for joy in material things, if everything has to happen just perfectly in order for you to have joy, then it’s inevitable: you’re going to be tired and disappointed, and not only that. If you buy into this idea that the path to joy is found in newer, bigger, faster, better stuff, you’re going end up being cynical. You will end up with a fundamental distrust of everything. Why? Because more stuff cannot soothe a guilty conscience. More stuff does not satisfy our appetite. And finally, more stuff cannot prevent your eventual death. Chasing after more stuff is a trap, as the character Ebenezer Scrooge finds out before it’s too late. Many more real people keep up the chase, and remain cynical, joyless, and isolated. I’m here today to tell you: God offers something different to His people.

The words of today’s Old Testament reading were spoken by a man who lived in the seventh century before Christ, a time much like ours; a time of power struggles and change. The prophet Zephaniah saw power plays in government, financial dealings in the marketplace, strife among social groups, debate about proper religious practices. In other words, business as usual; but Zephaniah is singing a sad song, because so few people are really seeking the Lord. So few are asking about the Lord God or even seem to care.

Zephaniah witnessed the cruelty of rulers, the dishonesty of merchants, the violence of neighbors, the complacency of the wealthy, the hypocrisy of the priests, and the willingness of the people to adopt any religion that would help them get what they want. When things get to that point, there’s nothing good to say. Zephaniah describes the people in total as “obeying no one” and “accepting no correction.” And the prophet proclaims that God’s judgment is near and coming quickly. Not a fun message to proclaim, but that’s the burden of being a prophet. The even deeper burden Zephaniah bore is that he knew that chasing after stuff could never bring true and lasting joy, and he had to watch as his people—his own people—kept racing after junk and racing toward their own destruction.

Now this is as good a point as any for me to stop and ask the question, “Does any of this sound familiar?” Yes, Zephaniah was talking about people in a long ago place. But when he describes people whose hearts have turned away from God and turned to satisfying themselves; when he describes people as disobedient to God, people who accept no correction; when he describes people who try desperately to find joy in more stuff, don’t we have to look around…and look inwardly? Like I said, not a fun message to proclaim. But it’s like breaking a bone in order to reset the thing. It’s necessary. Painful, but necessary.

There might be a little voice inside you saying, “I don’t know if I want to be different from the world.” But listen to Zephaniah. He’s speaking a warning that this world and its ways will fail you. This world and its ways will always take more than they give you. This world and its ways will one day come crashing down. What’s the alternative?

This is it: Zephaniah offers a clear invitation to seek the Lord again. The message coming through the prophets like Zephaniah and John the Baptist is the message of making a choice. The prophets urge you and me; they plead with you to choose to put aside pride, to put aside dishonesty, to put aside the other gods that we’ve chased after. Choose to put aside the things that block God from coming to you. Confess these things as sin. Hand over your cynicism, your disappointment, and your fear to him. Look to the Lord Jesus for meaning in life. Look to him for fulfillment. When you learn to enjoy God; I mean, really treasure who He is and what He’s done every day, you will finally have what you’ve been running after. You’ll have peace and purpose that can’t be changed by circumstance. You’ll have security that flows from a God who defeated death. You’ll have joy because the things that cause guilt have been removed from you. Listen to the prophets. Choose to turn around. The arms of your Father God are open and waiting. What’s this God like? Zephaniah tells us:

“The Lord has taken away your punishment; he has turned back your enemy.” This is the surprise of the Gospel; the twist ending that leaves us breathless. Just imagine you’re on death row, awaiting execution. You hear the steps of the guards. They are coming for you. They go past you. Somebody else is taken. The death hood is placed over that person, and he is marched out and executed. Then the guards appear at your cell and tell you that you’re free to go. They open the heavy door. Later you learn that the person who died in your place was guilty of no crime, and what’s more, they volunteered to take your place. Jesus did that by going to the cross. It is for that reason that Jesus came into the world. And get this. The Bible tells us that it was for the joy set before Him that Jesus endured the cross. What was the joy set before Him? It was the joy of knowing you forever. He wanted to enjoy a relationship with you so much it killed Him. The horror of his suffering and death was worth it to Him, because it meant that he could be with you always.

Listen to the prophets. Choose to turn around. But know this: Jesus chose you first. That’s where real joy comes from.

Don't You Like My Present?

As you do your Christmas shopping, there are many things to consider. Here’s two: How well do you know the person you’re shopping for? And how do you present the gift? It’s fairly easy to find the right gift if you know a person’s interests and hobbies. And the way you present your present matters a lot too; If you leave the price tag on or you say, “Here’s something I made, but I didn’t quite get it finished,” that’s not going to be very impressive.

There’s a lot of preparing going on this time of year in order to present things in just the right way. The question for you this morning is, are you preparing to present your heart to God? Is that even on your list?

The words disciple and discipline go hand in hand; a disciple of Jesus is going to use discipline to counteract the busyness of December with quiet moments. A disciple of Jesus will use discipline to carve out time for our eyes to see the Savior; our ears to hear of his love; our lips to sing his praises; our hands to serve those around us so that with our minds and hearts we might truly, truly celebrate the greatest birth the world has ever known. Are you preparing to present yourself to Jesus?

In this morning’s Old Testament Lesson, we meet Malachi, whose name actually means “my messenger.” And Malachi’s message is that the Lord is going a send a Messenger before Him. Did you get that? This is a prophetic reference to John the Baptist, whose ministry was all about preparation. But John the Baptist did not show up to say “Prepare the Christmas Goose” or “Prepare to shop for an iPad mini.” John showed up to say “Prepare your heart for the Lord to come in. Make a straight path for Him to come into your life and renovate.” How does your life line up with that message? Is there a straight path for Jesus to take to get into your heart? Or is it more like an obstacle course? What do you have to shove aside in order to clear the path?

Malachi continues: “The suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come.” I want you to realize that about 450 years after Malachi spoke these words, they came true in a most unlikely way. The Lord came to his Temple as an eight-day-old baby, brought by Mary and Joseph. The Lord came to his temple as 12-year-old boy and taught the teachers about God’s Word. And throughout his thirty-three years the Lord Jesus would return to His temple to participate and teach and finally to warn and to cleanse.

When the Lord shows up, things have to change. That’s where Malachi goes when he says “Who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears?” When Jesus appears in your life, one thing you have to let go of is the idea that your good deeds and performance are going to get you anywhere with him. The Lord is holy. You’re not. Something’s got to give. Furthermore, Malachi says “He will be like a refiner’s fire and a launderer’s soap.” The Lord comes to get rid of our impurities. He comes to clean us up. Going from impure to pure and dirty to clean is not an easy process. That’s why the Lord comes to do it to us. We could never do it ourselves. We’re working at a pretty deep level here, a long way from sentimental Silver Bells. But this is what it takes. It’s very easy for our Christmas preparation to slip into ritual and routine. What Malachi’s talking about is very different. It’s almost like the prophet is saying that the day is coming, faster than you can imagine, when it won’t matter that you found the right Lego set; it won’t matter that you left the pie in the oven too long. The only thing that will matter is: are you ready to meet the Lord Jesus? Did you prepare for that moment by living a life of faith?

What you present to God says a lot about how prepared you are to see Him. Again, the prophet Malachi says, “[The Lord] will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have men who bring offerings in righteousness.” That life of faith that I’m talking about is built on this foundation: we trust that Jesus purified and cleansed us with his blood at Calvary. This is God’s gift to you. He does not owe it to you. He does not have to give it. But He gives it because he loves. God’s present to you is a new life. What’s your present to him?

Might I suggest something He’d like? How about a change of mind? A change in attitude? A changed life? As much as the word “repentance” might seem foreign or strange to us, that’s what it means: a change for the better. A new emphasis on going God’s way. A new effort to really be a disciple of Jesus; a follower of Jesus Christ; making that straight path for Him to come in and take over. Then the Refiner can come in and purify you; then Jesus can come in with the strange soap of His blood and thoroughly clean your soul. All of God’s spokesmen, all the prophets, including Malachi and right up to John the Baptist and Jesus himself have said the very same thing: Repent and believe the good news! Change direction! Return to the Lord and receive the blessing that He can only give to those who admit their sins. Don’t stop him from the remodeling project he wants to do in you.

Have you ever given someone a Christmas present, and you can just tell they don’t really like it? It reminds of a story about a classroom of second graders that did a Christmas gift exchange. It was the old draw a name out of a hat type thing. Well, one little girl got the name of another girl in the class that she really did like and wanted to be better friends with. So the eight-year-old went through a lot of thought and piggy-bank expense (although Mom did chip in) to select just the right present for the occasion. She had high hopes that her classmate would take one look at the gift and a great new friendship would be born.

But on the day of the Christmas Party, with the second grade class decked out in red and green sweaters and Santa hats, and the time came for each child to open their presents, well, it happened something like this. The girl who had been so carefully shopped for calmly tore open the wrapping paper, looked at the gift with a blank expression, and tossed it to the side, where it fell off the side of the desk. Not even a fake “thank you.”

“But I picked it out just for you!” the little girl said, crushed by the rejection. As the teacher tried to salvage the situation, the girl stood in front of her classmate’s desk and asked, in disbelief, “Don’t you like my present?”

Sometimes I think that God’s heart breaks the same way. He looks at all the things we chase after and says, “Don’t you like my present?” Don’t you like the gift of my Son? Don’t you like having a new, clean, pure life?” What would you say to him?

One thing I know is He will never reject you. He will never toss you aside. This Christmas, He wants to give you the riches of heaven itself. Let Him. Amen.

Who Are These Saints?

Who are these clothed in white robes?

They are mothers and fathers, grandmas and grandpas, husbands and wives, sons and daughters. They are Asian, American, European, African, and all points in between. Some were famous. Some were virtually unknown. Some were successful. Some were failures by the world’s standards. But all have one thing in common; one thing that connects them eternally: Jesus, the Lamb of God, is their Savior, Lord, and King. For this reason and this reason alone they are rightly called “saints.”

This section of the book of Revelation is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring in all of the Bible. Here is the result of Jesus’ perfect life, sacrificial death, and transforming resurrection. The result is a countless collection of people, made holy by God. They’re wearing the white robes he provided. They’re worshipping and serving God, and at the same time He is tenderly serving them. The wonderful fruit of Jesus’ labor is brought to harvest. His people live with Him in Paradise Restored.

So who are these clothed in white robes? The storytellers and opinion-sellers of our culture are divided on the matter. Some suggest that the saints are easy to spot. They are the exceedingly rare, Mother Teresa types. Their good deeds make it obvious. The message that is sent between the lines is that if you’re not doing something spectacular, you’re not a saint. Not even close.

On the other end of the spectrum, you have those who insist that everyone is a saint, if by the word “saint” you mean that you’ll go to heaven when you die. The assumption from this perspective is that just about everybody ends up in heaven, unless you were just a horrible, despicable, evil person. Then that’s different.

It’s all too easy to let toned-down versions of these cultural ideas bleed into our own. A friend of mine pointed out once that it is instructive to hear what people talk about at the funeral home, and especially what they say about the deceased, in particular during calling hours. It’s instructive to hear how much time is spent praising the good qualities of the deceased, in contrast to the time spent talking about Jesus; talking about how the departed person trusted in Jesus for salvation; talking about the difference the resurrection of Jesus makes. That observation reveals a lot about human nature. It brings to the surface some of the thoughts we have about life and death and heaven that may or may not square with what God has said in His Word.

So what does God have to say about saints? Well, one thing’s for sure. Being a saint is not a matter of achieving some spiritual standard of excellence. If that were the case, there wouldn’t be any. The picture the Bible paints of people like Adam, Abraham, Moses, David, Peter and Paul is not flattering. Scripture unflinchingly puts their sins out there for the world to see. Imagine if your life was an open book in that same way.

On the other hand, Jesus claims, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” He also says, “if you don’t believe, you are already condemned because you don’t believe in the name of God’s only Son.” Heaven for everyone, regardless of faith, is an idea totally foreign to the teaching of Jesus.

So again, who are these saints? These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. They have made it through the tragedies of this torn-up world, and they have been cleansed. They have been purified. Their robes have been soaked in the blood of Jesus, making them holy. Their whole lives have been soaked in the blood of Jesus, making them acceptable to God. Jesus’ holiness and perfection was wrapped around them at their baptism. It is the garment they wear into eternity. You see, a saint is someone who trusts in Jesus and Jesus alone for access to heaven. That’s it. A saint is someone who knows that sin has disqualified them from the prize—yet they believe that Jesus earned the prize and gives it away as a true gift. A saint is someone who knows that there would be no white robe or multitude or living water or wiping away of tears if it were not for Jesus.

Who are these saints? I believe you know many of them. There’s one who tried to talk God out of making him serve, then led his people out of slavery. There’s one who prayed to the Lord for a son, and true to her word, gave him back to the Lord for a life of service. There’s one who denied even knowing Jesus three times, who would go on to preach thousands of people to faith. There’s one who fought and worked to get the true gospel message back into the Church. There’s one who risked her life doing the work of a missionary. There’s one who taught Sunday School for hundreds of children through the years. There’s one who never got to serve in the way he wanted, but whose faithful example led his son and grandson to became pastors. There’s one whose loving guidance of her son was the only godly example and pure relationship he’d ever know. There’s one who had his life totally tuned around by the grace of God. There’s one who visited the sick and shut-in just because she wanted to. There’s one who liked to build and fix things as his service to the Lord, who could care less about recognition. There’s one whose business prospered, but not at the expense of his faith and family. What other saints do you see in that multitude? There aren’t any superheroes in that crowd—just real people. People like you and me. People who had struggles and hurts, flaws and quirks, strengths and gifts. People saved by Jesus. People pulled out of the devil’s hands by Christ, the champion.

Let’s not be in a hurry to push this vision of the white-robed multitude out of our minds. After all, it describes your future. By God’s choice, you are part of the “all” in All Saints. This is your Day, too, through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Back to the Source

           It’s only about a half a mile. The monk walked from his cell in the monastery, past the university where he was a teacher, to the church at the other end of town. There he posted a notice on the door of the Church of All Saints. If any of the common people passing by were interested enough to look, they would soon turn away in disappointment. “It’s in Latin.”

            That’s the way it may have happened on October 31, 1517, in the town of Wittenburg, in the German Principality of Saxony. I’m talking about the publication of the 95 Theses by Martin Luther. Little did anyone realize that these hammer blows on the door of the church would change Western Christianity, not to mention the course of history.

            How could one man do it? He couldn’t, and he didn’t. Looking at all the events of what we’ve come to call the Reformation of the Church, it’s not really about Martin Luther; it’s not about the 95 Theses; it’s not about the right timing. The Reformation is all about the One Truth in Christ instead of the many “truths” around us.

            When Father Martin issued his 95-fold call to the Church, he was challenging Christians. Not just the high and mighty, like the pope and the cardinals and the bishops and so forth. He was challenging all Christians (at least in the Western Church) to come back to the source of faith and life: the Word of God; the Bible. It’s eye-opening to consider that at the time of Luther, the Church was doing fine—if your standard of “doing fine” is activity, people involvement, influence, and property. The Collegiate Church of All Saints at Wittenburg was worthy of admiration. Their seven priests conducted thousands of masses a year. That meant a sizable income for the clergy, and even more so, people received assurance for the quicker release from purgatory for both themselves and their family members. It was a good deal all around, of great economic benefit to the city. And along comes this monk, who said…well, what did he say?

            Father Martin did not say, “Don’t listen to the Church.” He did not say, “Believe whatever you want.” He said, “Let’s go back to the source.” What source? The Word of God. The Holy Scriptures. The Bible. Let’s get back to the source. Dare I ask, what have you done to get back to the source lately? How important is it to you to get God’s Word into your life? Because that’s what the Reformation was all about. Not about some mythical German hero named Luther, but about God’s grace, the real message of Holy Scripture. And here you have it. All of God’s mercy, packed in words; the whole Christ, crucified and risen for you, speaking His full message of repentance and salvation.

            But look around today. There will be Reformation services elsewhere. These days there seem to be, even in the Church, so many different views, opinions, philosophies, and convictions that others begin to ask, “What does the Christian Church stand for?”

            Jesus said, “If you abide in”—if you listen, stick to, remain with, hang on to—“if you abide in My Word, you are truly my disciples.” That’s a pretty big “if.” The best medicine prescribed by the doctor will be useless if you don’t take it! Jesus himself issues the invitation to abide in His Word, but that’s all it will be if you don’t take him up on it.

            How many baptisms have taken place at this font during your lifetime? And yet, do you see all of those blessed by water and the Word sitting here with you today? How many confirmands have vowed faithfulness to Jesus and loyalty to the Church at this altar? Where are they now, and do you care?

            How do you stick with it? How do you abide? I cannot possibly overstate the importance of Christian education, catechism instruction and regular worship attendance for the survival of each Lutheran in their Christian faith. It is nothing less than a threat to your spiritual survival to disregard the Word of God or to separate yourself from it. It seems so simple—staying plugged into the power source is necessary. But how often do God’s own people act like it isn’t necessary? How often do God’s own people pretend that getting God’s Word into themselves is an optional activity?

            Perhaps you had hoped today to hear more praises of Martin Luther and the other great men and women of the Reformation. But that’s not our greatest need. Our greatest need is for Christ’s Holy Word to strengthen us for the road ahead. We need Jesus with us as we move toward our final goal.

            Jesus said, “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” That truth we learned from men like Pastor Luther. And from those following him, including the teachers and preachers who have fed you with the heavenly food of the Gospel. That Gospel says: you cannot free yourself from what you are. The sinner, Jesus says, is a slave, tied up and loaded down. The truth that sets you free is that Jesus breaks the chains; Jesus leads you out into the light.

            Jesus also said “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” What a claim, and what a promise! For Christians, truth is not a theory or a philosophy or an ideology. Truth is a person. Jesus is truth. Jesus is God’s final and saving promise to you. Included in that promise is strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow; life constant and joyous in God’s presence that begins right now, and that is perfectly fulfilled in eternity. What do you have to do to realize that promise? Memorize the 95 Theses? Know your way around the LCMS handbook or Robert’s Rules of Order? Over-commit yourself on the church committee? None of the above. Remember Jesus’ words: “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” The Son has done it. You can be free from slavery to sin. You can be free from slavery to self. You can live free from fear. The Son of God offers you himself. He gives you all for nothing. He pronounces you free and loose from sin. He calls you into a new kind of life—a life in which He has connected Himself to you for good.

            Martin Luther’s legacy is that he pointed people to Jesus with great clarity. That can be our legacy too. It will happen if we get back to the source. That will happen if we meet Jesus face to face in Holy Scripture. That will happen as you build your life on the fact that the Son has set you free.

Adapted from a sermon by Rev. Wilhelm Torgerson

Get Some Rest

A man named Frederick Taylor worked for a large steel mill in 1898. He was an ambitious executive and was one of the first to apply scientific methods to study the productivity of manual labor. Here’s what I mean: In those days there were no cranes to load steel bars onto railroad cars. It was backbreaking work, and after some experimentation, Taylor concluded that men could do more if they took rest pauses at definite intervals. He got some of the workers to try this new method by offering them a dollar a day more and flattering them by calling them his “high-priced men.” Under this system, a whistle was blown after the men had carried iron for 12 minutes. At the whistle, they were to sit down and rest for three minutes. At the next whistle they would resume working. The result: the amount of iron carried increased from 12 and a half to 47 tons a day. This seeming miracle ushered in the era of rest pauses, which just might be the forerunner of today’s coffee breaks.

            Thoughts of work and rest dominate our lives, don’t they? Our work and our identity are intertwined. Soon after meeting someone for the first time, you’ll probably ask or be asked, “So, what do you do?” The Bible reminds us, from the very beginning, that we were not created simply to exist. We were created to do something. A careful reading of Genesis chapter two shows God giving Adam jobs to do. Tasks to complete. This was before the fall into sin and death. Before the fall into sin, work was not “work” as we think of it. It was a joy. It gave purpose. But after the fall into sin, everything changed. That was one of the curses that God pronounced—the nature of work would be drastically different. Work might still have a good result, but it would be hard, toilsome, even exhausting, something you could easily come to resent. If your labor wears you out, there’s a reason for that. What happened in the Garden of Eden changed the nature of work in this world. And we find ourselves in need of relief.

            In other words, we need rest. It is a necessity. “Rest” is the word of the day, and you may have noticed it is all over today’s Epistle Lesson, the letter to the Hebrews. We truly need to pause periodically and rest from our labors. Our bodies need to catch up with our tasks and the great mechanisms of our bodies can’t do without some downtime. As Frederick Taylor’s steel mill experiment pointed out, we are more productive when we rest and replenish our vital strengths. But the writer of the letter to the Hebrews is going far beyond the idea of rest from physical labor. What this word from God is saying to you is that there is a deep soul rest that is available to you; an inner, spiritual rest that you really can have when you consider who Jesus is, what He has done, and why it matters to you.

            Here’s verses 9 and 10: “So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his.” There’s the offer. It’s there for you. Did you hear it? There is a deep rest of the heart and soul available to God’s people. How do you get it? Again, “whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his.” You enter God’s rest when you rest from your works. Let’s explore the dimensions of this because it really could change your life.

            Most of us live our lives trying to prove to everyone that we’re good enough. We try to prove, and sometimes this is very subtle, we don’t even know we’re doing it, but we work really hard to prove that we’re lovable—to prove that we’re worthy of respect—to prove that we’re competent and productive. In essence, we’re trying to justify our own existence, and we push ourselves to the limit in order to do this. And why not? It’s the way the world works, after all. The world says “prove it,” then you’ll be rewarded. So we try, and while you may get some rest and relaxation once in a while, deep, abiding rest of the soul is hard to come by. That’s hard enough. But then, again, without even being aware we’re doing it, we bring that “prove it” attitude into our spiritual lives; into our relationship with God.

            We think and act as if we’ve got to prove to God that we’re good enough. We try to prove to Him that we’re lovable, that we’re worthy of being blessed. We try to justify our existence before Him by producing our list of accomplishments; a track record that we believe should count for something. But do you want to know the truth? There’s no rest in that! Remember, the Bible says you enter God’s rest when you rest from your works. That means that God’s rest enters you and fills you when you stop making your works your trust; when you stop trying to work your way into God’s good graces because you realize that work has already been done.

            Jesus came down to earth precisely to do that hard work on your behalf. His perfect life; His sacrificial death; His resurrection; His ascension back into heaven, has all been applied to your record. It counts for you. That’s why He did it. There is nothing you can add to what He has done. True peace of the heart, mind, and soul is yours when you rest from your works and trust in the work Jesus did for you. That’s why Jesus, nailed to a cross, struggling for breath, said in his dying moments, “It is finished.” Trying to justify yourself before God is finished. He justifies you by giving you His performance record. Trying to prove to God that you’re lovable is finished. Jesus proved He loves you already by going through suffering and crucifixion to settle your account with God. Do you hear that? Do you believe that? That’s the Gospel—the news of a new reality! The announcement that changes everything! Can you work that into that self-talk that goes on in your mind every day? I think you can, with prayer and help from the Holy Spirit.

            Rest from your works. Don’t make them your trust. Don’t make yourself your trust. Make Jesus your trust, and enter a Sabbath rest for your heart. What He accomplished for you needs no more work. When you understand that, when you get that, the daily work you’ve been given to do takes on a higher purpose. With nothing to prove to God, your daily work can be done as a service to your neighbor. It’s a means through which God grants your daily bread. It’s a daily thank you letter written to your Lord and Savior. It’s there for you. You can have this. God’s Word promises it. “There remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God rested from His.”

Salted for Service

What is it about salt? There’s just something about a nice salty pretzel to put a smile on your face. I remember as a kid, when you’d get to the bottom of a bag of pretzels and you’d have all that salt there at the bottom, so what do you do? You lick your finger, stick it down in that salt and pop it in your mouth.

            What is it about salt? Salt adds flavor, or maybe it would be more precise to say that it enhances the flavor that’s already there. Salt also heals, having an antiseptic quality. Salt preserves. It’s what you used before the days of the refrigerator/freezer. And in the Bible, salt purified sacrifices in the Old Testament and indicated peace with God. It also indicated peace between parties and so Jesus adds in today’s gospel lesson, “Be at peace with one another.”

            What is it about salt? Jesus uses salt to talk about you and me today. In His Word today, Jesus tells those who follow him, “Be salty!” What does He mean by that? Well, think through the qualities of salt again: Jesus is saying to you: (1) Have a distinctive flavor. A Christian’s life should not be blah or bland. The greatest news of all time has entered your mind and heart, and if that’s not changing you, if that great news is not erupting out of you, then you might be losing your salt. But how could it not be? Death has no claim on you. Jesus died, yes! He dove into sin and hell for us, but He broke to the surface on the third day with life to give to you. Forgiven Life. New Life; New Priorities. Forever Life. A Resurrected Life to come. Nothing else tastes like this! Be salty; keep a uniquely Christian outlook. (2) Salt heals. What are you doing to bring healing into this world…into your relationships? That’s part of being a salty Christian too. That’s the unique Christian flavor. Your goal is to bring healing, not to destroy. You are after forgiveness, not revenge. You are looking to help put things back together again, not to tear down. Bring healing. (3) Salt preserves. Imagine what the world would be like…imagine what our country would be like…imagine what our community would be like if one day, all the Christians [poof] were gone. What would it be like? I’m bold to say that the impact would be huge and not pretty in the least. Salty Christians preserve their communities by doing things no one else wants to do. Salty Christians preserve communities by being Christ-like. Today Jesus says to each of us, “Be that salt.”

            Today we are highlighting the work of the Lutheran Women’s Missionary League, of which our Ladies’ Aid is a part. These groups take the command of Jesus to be that salt seriously. Along with our Lord they would remind you today that you are “Salted for Service.” It’s a message that the Bible sounds again and again. It’s become so important to us here at Trinity that our mission statement has become “We are saved by Christ to serve his creation.” It’s become so real that you have embraced servant events, serving at Christ’s Table, and in the case of the LWML and Ladies’ Aid, funding and supplying missionaries in foreign lands, sewing dresses for African girls to wear, supporting students in training for ministry, and so much more.

            One of the iconic images of the LWML is the Mite Box. The Mite Box is nothing more than a small cardboard box into which you can slip your mites—your loose change—and then when your box gets full, you bring them in and pool those funds at local, national, and international levels. But when I say it’s nothing more than a cardboard box, that’s understating it by quite a bit. That fact is, that all those mite boxes down through the years have funded millions of dollars worth of mission activity. Hundreds of projects in the Ohio District alone have been at least partially paid for by those Mite Boxes so that the Gospel of free forgiveness in Jesus is shared everywhere. Let me put a real face on that for you.

Pastor Matt Harrison, president of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, writes the following. “Over the past decade, I’ve visited dozens and dozens of places in the world and had a recurring experience—like I did for example, in Ambur, India. There I was touring a large and bustling Lutheran hospital compound. Hundreds of people are treated there daily. Babies are born and people are cared for by pastors and deaconesses and doctors. As I rounded a corner on the walk, I came face-to-face with something profound. A plaque on the hospital building stated, “Built with the assistance of funds from the Lutheran Women’s Missionary League.” Every time this occurs I think of all the women I’ve met in all the churches over the years. I think of all those faithfully-filled Mite Boxes. I think especially of those women now with the Lord. And I’m profoundly thankful.”

It would literally take all day to tell you about current LWML projects around the district, the United States, and the world that are caring for the poorest women and children, fighting malaria and other diseases, assisting the addicted, and supporting crisis pregnancy centers. The list could be multiplied, and in all these instances, Jesus is being shared with those in need.

The LWML is an example for us all. We are all “salted to serve.” How do we do that? Forgiven by Jesus, we bear witness to Him in our everyday lives. We care for those in need, just like He did. We live a life together of love and forgiveness, where healing is top priority. And in all this service, through every victory and every disappointment shared, there is joy in the Lord, joy in what He is doing through you and me. Be that salt, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Adapted from Pastor Matt Harrison's sermon for LWML Sunday 2012

Greatness

Who is the greatest athlete of all time? How about the greatest entertainer? What is the greatest movie ever made? The greatest person you ever met? It’s a human pastime to come up with our list of “greatests,” and there’s nothing inherently wrong with it, as long as we understand that God’s definition of what makes a person great is far, far different than ours.
Jesus’ disciples found that out in an embarrassing way in today’s gospel. Jesus had been teaching them about himself; telling them in plain language about his rescue mission. Jesus said: “The Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And after he is killed, He will rise on the third day.” To you and me, this is dangerously close to “old news.” To the disciples, it didn’t make sense, and they were afraid to ask questions. Instead, as they walk along the road to their next destination, the conversation shifts, and has nothing to do with what Jesus was talking about. Instead, they start opining about who of them was the greatest disciple! Some translations say they were disputing this issue. When they get to the house where they were staying, Jesus asks them, “What were you talking about on the way?” You probably could’ve heard the proverbial pin drop in the silence that followed, as the disciples thought it over. Jesus had just told them he was going to be betrayed and executed, and they had responded by cutting him out of the conversation and debating who is the greatest among us. What an uncomfortable silence that must have been. How patient of our Lord Jesus to keep teaching these guys who couldn’t seem to see past themselves. We might as well say the same thing about ourselves. How patient Jesus is with us, who so desire worldly greatness, recognition, and status. He never stops instructing us through his Word.
To understand God’s definition of greatness, we have to understand God. By nature, the almighty God of heaven and earth is a servant. He created Adam and Eve so that He might care for them. He created them in His image to serve one another and to take care of what God had made. When they sinned, He did not respond with raw power, instead, he promised to serve them again by sending a Savior who would crush the serpent’s head, decisively defeating death and hell. That’s the plan Jesus is talking about in today’s gospel—a plan to serve. That’s God’s nature. Therefore, when God measures greatness, he measures it in terms of serving. In God’s eyes, the one who is great is the one who serves others.
Sinful humankind measures greatness in exactly the opposite way. Our culture says greatness is when you have so much power that you are served by others. Greatness in our culture means you have some talent or quality that sets you apart and make you worthy of being admired, glorified, and yes, even worshipped by others. That’s why movie stars, musicians and professional athletes are idolized. Think about it: the word “idolized” says it all. Natural man looks at wealth, publicity, and power and says, “that’s what life is all about.” But lest we point the finger too easily at Hollywood or Washington D.C. or your local sports arena, we also need to look in the mirror, and ask: “in what ways have I been seduced by a need to be thought of as great? In what ways have I craved recognition or power or control? What has my need to be number one caused me to do? Even Jesus’ own disciples couldn’t help jostling for the number one spot. It is a constant human temptation.
And that creates some tension, to say the least. Jesus says, “In service to the people of the world, I’m going to suffer and die to buy back what is already mine.” This is the greatest service of all. By their discussion, the disciples said, in so many words, “Suffering and dying isn’t great. Gaining power and influence is great. So which one of us will be the greatest of Jesus’ disciples? Which one will have the power and authority?” By their discussion, the disciples betray how far away they are from thinking God’s way.
What follows is what educators call a “teachable moment.” Jesus sits the twelve down in response to their embarrassed silence and says, “If anyone desires to be first, he shall be last of all and servant of all.” This would have been a startling statement to the disciples, and in truth, it is still startling to the sinful nature. Greatness is found in service? Being best is a matter of being last? What is that supposed to mean? To God, it makes perfect sense, because he is the servant who created us to serve; to man, it sounds ludicrous.
The “teachable moment” continues. A child toddling by is scooped up in Jesus’ arms as He says, “Whoever receives one of these little children in my name receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but Him who sent me.” This, too, would’ve been so far away from the disciples’ conventional wisdom: the lines were clearly drawn, childcare was for the womenfolk, men did manly stuff like catch fish and fight wars. Yet Jesus declares that service to children is great service. He has come to save all people, children included. But this goes way, way past Jesus telling his disciples to serve the cute little boys and girls because they’re so doggone adorable. Jesus is saying: to be great means to serve those who can’t serve you back. Serve those who might not say thank you. Serve those who are in no position to reward you. You can almost see the disciples casting sideways glances at each other, with a mixture of shame and confusion in their eyes. They didn’t get it yet. But they would, after Jesus had made good on his promise to serve by suffering dying, and rising on the third day, and the Holy Spirit filled them on Pentecost.

 That means there is hope for us, too, as we grapple with God’s definition of greatness.
There is wonderful clarity in this idea; The Lord remains the Servant. He went to the cross and died for the sins of all people in service to all; and he still comes here to serve us by his means of grace, his Word and Sacraments. The Lord is a servant who sets you free from sin to be a servant. The Lord has placed you where you are to be a servant in that place. Parents; children; husbands; wives; employers; workers; retired; just getting started; teachers; students; wherever you are, God has placed you there to serve. The Lord may give you skills, assets, and wealth; should he do so, rejoice that t the Lord has entrusted these things to you so that you can serve others. On the other hand, if you have little in the way of resources, rejoice that the Lord has put you where you are, to serve with what you have, even if that’s just your two hands. This is the life of a Christian: thanks to Jesus, you are set free to serve wherever the Lord has put you. Make it your goal to serve as Jesus would serve, and do so knowing that you are fully and freely forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Funeral Homily for Deborah S. Bagent

“Therefore encourage one another with these words.” We could sure use some encouragement today, couldn’t we? You may still be in shock over Debbie’s death. You may be experiencing a shifting kaleidoscope of emotions in the wake of her passing. That’s normal and natural. It’s the way we’re built. Yes, we need encouragement, and the Bible has it.

Have you ever thought about what the word ‘encouragement’ really means? Sometimes it seems like encouragement is nothing more than a pat on the back, or a few words of friendly support. But look at root of the word. What’s there at the center? The word “courage.” Nothing soft about that. Courage is required to face the seemingly impossible situations in life. Christian courage says, “This new reality terrifies me, but God will help me through it.” And so to en-courage someone means to actually put this determination into someone else. God’s Word has the power to do exactly that. So in a moment, we are going to take a close look at what the apostle Paul meant when he said, “Therefore encourage one another with these words.”

But first, let’s apply this word to Debbie. We could all say many things about her today, and we will, as we support and comfort each other with kind words and fond memories. What I would like to say about Debbie is that she was an encourager at heart. No one could love to teach the way she did without having that quality. One of her life’s defining passions was encouraging children to learn and grow and reach their full potential. It will come as no surprise to any of you who knew her well, that in one the last conversations we had she was encouraging me from her hospital bed. I had gone there as the minister, but I was the one being ministered to. That is a gift I will always treasure.

“Therefore encourage each other with these words.” We encourage each other with words about Debbie; about how she touched our lives; about how she inspired us to do more than we thought we could. And the apostle Paul has words of encouragement for you today as well. Listen to these words and take them to heart.

We start with verse 13: “…we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” The first thing Paul says here is very important. He says to those who are grieving the loss of a loved one in Christ: go ahead and grieve, but understand that your grief is different. Without Jesus, the only way to grieve is without hope. Without Jesus there is no promise of seeing your loved one again. Without our resurrected Lord, there is no journey to a heavenly home; no heavenly home to go to. Without Christ, death is it. It’s the end. Shut the book. Paul says to the Christian person, by all means, shed your tears, feel the loss, give yourself permission to do so. But do so in light of this fact: Jesus died and rose again and those who have fallen asleep are with Him now and He’s bringing them along when He comes again. So Christian, your grief is different. Underneath it is the truth that your loved one—Debbie-- is still alive in Jesus. Behind our grief is the truth that your separation from Debbie is temporary, not final. Next to our grief is the truth that you will be reunited with her and with all those who have fallen asleep in faith. Christians mourn. Christian feel it. We’re not immune. Paul says Christians grieve, but Christians grieve with answers. Christians grieve with the truth in hand. Christians cry while knowing that the events of that first Easter Sunday totally redefine what we’re doing here today on September 13^th, 2012. We’re not here to say goodbye to Debbie. We’re here to say, “We will see you later in the presence of the Lord Jesus.” “Therefore encourage each other with these words.”

Paul goes on to talk about Jesus’ triumphant return to earth at the Last Day: He writes: “For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven…with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first.” According to Paul, what’s going to happen at the Last Day? Jesus will return, bringing with Him the souls of those who have fallen asleep in faith, and their souls will rejoin bodies that have risen from the grave, one great big Easter Sunday. Do you see the encouragement in that? In this imperfect world, our imperfect bodies betray us. They break down. They host diseases. They wear out. Debbie had to deal with that throughout her life. But the Bible promises that a day is coming when she will stand in a perfect body, free from disease, free from pain. Paul does not want you to forget that this is a direct result of Jesus’ resurrection, and it holds true for all of our loved ones who suffered the vagaries of disease and aging and chronic pain. Because Jesus rose from the dead, all of those will be eliminated. Believers will love and serve and praise the Almighty God and Father of our Lord Jesus forever, in body and soul. “Therefore encourage each other with these words.”

Finally, the apostle says: “Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.” What Paul seems to be saying is that believers who happen to still be alive at the time of Jesus’ return will undergo some type of transformation and will miraculously meet the King of Kings as He is descending. That’s amazing stuff there, but what I really want you to notice is that last phrase, “and so we will always be with the Lord.” And so we will always be with the Lord. That is the most succinct description of heaven that I know of. It’s the goal of faith, isn’t it? Maybe even more than that, it is the answer to the cry of our hearts. It’s the longing for home that’s deep inside all of us, a thirst that will only be quenched when we are at Jesus’ side in eternity. Deborah Susan Bagent is there right now. Her Lord Jesus has welcomed her to her place at the feast; He has shown her the place he has prepared for her; the praise and love and light that surrounds her are things we can only dream about in an incomplete sort of way. But that’s Debbie’s reality. From now on she is always with the Lord. You can live your life today knowing without a doubt that someday you will join her. How is that possible? Jesus made it possible. We could never be good enough to get there. But Jesus was. His life, death, and resurrection will count for you when you stop trusting in your own performance and make Him your trust. When you do that, the pressure is off, and so is the doubt, because it’s not about you. Life centers on a powerful, merciful, loving Savior, giving strength for this day and confidence for the life of the world to come. I am deeply thankful to be able to say that Debbie held dearly to this faith and made Jesus her trust. You can have the same faith and peace and poise that she did. You can know that a happy reunion is coming.

 Therefore encourage each other with these words. And be encouraged by God’s strong Word as you wait to see Debbie again. The courage that is necessary to face the journey home is yours: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; Amen.

I Believe; Help My Unbelief

It is horrifying for any parent to consider. Your child is sick. Worse than that: Your child is actually possessed by a demon, an evil spirit. It controls his behavior. It tries to kill him. The parent who approached Jesus in today’s Gospel lesson was living every parent’s worst nightmare. Something’s terribly wrong with my child and I’m powerless to do anything about it.
The father of the possessed boy speaks up and reaches out to Jesus. He’s heard the miracle stories; he fumbles for words as he formulates his request: “If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus replies: “If you can? All things are possible for one who believes.” And in that moment the boy’s father, desperately battling his own doubts and fears, says just about the most honest thing a human being ever says in the Bible; he says: “I believe; help my unbelief.” There was something Jesus responded to in that wrestling, awkward, transparent request—and he honors it. He does what his disciples could not—he extracts the demon from the boy; he gives the boy and his family a new life to live. Through Jesus, God is putting His broken creation together again one person and one family at a time.

“I believe; help my unbelief.” What a simple way to describe the war that goes on in our hearts and minds. It is a classic Christian paradox. We believe and we disbelieve. We trust and we trust no one. We build on the Rock and we build on sand. That’s us. And it’s not necessarily bad news. Well, unbelief is bad, but a spiritual struggle—an inner tension—is proof that faith is fighting for life. Faith that is gasping for breath is still faith; the thing we ought to really fear is no struggle—the fool’s gold of disbelief and the ethic of service to myself as the highest good.

In other words, to have faith in Jesus is to experience spiritual turbulence, because faith that trusts in God goes to war with the sinful self, and the sinful self doesn’t appreciate being fought against. It hates being exorcised. Only Jesus can cast out our sinful nature and fill us with something far better. And as I said, spiritual turbulence is better than no spiritual turbulence. Spiritual turbulence means that faith, which the Holy Spirit gave me through the gospel of Jesus and baptism, is alive and is beating down my sinful impulses. A complete lack of spiritual turbulence is bad news. It means I’m foolishly confident in myself, or I just don’t care about the things of God at all. Both those ways lead to destruction and finally separation from God.

There is an upside to experiencing spiritual turbulence. What is that upside? It opens you up to being nurtured, fed, and strengthened by a word from God. When we admit to our double-mindedness—“I believe; help my unbelief,” we are confessing sin, and when we confess sin, well, you know what God promises: “If we confess our sins, God, who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Jesus is quick to apply his mercy to our doubts. He is quick to forgive us our lack of trust; the prayer “help my unbelief” is one that it pleases Him to answer. But how? How can the Lord help our unbelief? The answer is elegantly simple. He wants to talk to you. Listen to these words from Isaiah, and imagine that it is Jesus speaking these words. It really is; he is the servant speaking in chapter 50. He says: “The Lord God has given me the tongue of those who are taught, that I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary.” Here’s a slightly different translation: “The Lord God gives me the speech of the learned, so that I know how to talk to encourage the weary.” The encouragement and the knowledge that we need are found in the words of Jesus. The Word of God is the thing that is going to sustain our faith and keep it vital. Holy Scripture gives us the prequel to Jesus’ arrival; the main event of Jesus’ rescue mission to earth; and the sequels, where his followers take His good news into the surrounding world. The Holy Spirit breathes life into us through this story of Jesus! The Word of God is the antidote to fear, doubt, and worry. The Word of God replaces those things with peace, trust, and faith. The Word presents Jesus to us, inviting us to trust in Him not only for eternal life in the future, but also for the forgiveness of sins and help in our battles today.

Here’s another place where it would be right to pray: “I believe; help my unbelief.” We might very well pray, “Lord, I believe that it is important to study your Word; help my unbelief that finds all kinds of way to prevent that from happening.” There are plenty of excuses for not being in the Word—I’m not going to go through them all, because we know what they are, and we know they are excuses, not reasons. Will we as individuals—as families—as disciples of Jesus—make learning the Word our top priority in the months to come? Will we as a congregation allow Jesus to speak to us in His own words? There’s an awful lot at stake, as our gospel lesson makes abundantly clear. Evil is real. The devil wants you to be his possession. He wants our children, too. And the stark reality is that you’re either Satan’s slave or God’s dearly loved child. There’s no neutral space. We’re either filling ourselves and our children with poison or purity; garbage or grace. We can fill ourselves and our children with junk that kills faith, or holy things that cause faith to grow deeper roots.

Listen to the encouraging Words of our Lord Jesus. If you’re not doing that at all, make a fresh start. If you’re doing a little, push past that and do more. See what happens when you really listen to and act on the words of your Lord Jesus Christ!

Faith is Never Alone

The New Testament letter of James is challenging. It’s challenging because it pulls no punches as it describes the way Christians ought to be. It’s challenging because James insists that good works—not to mention an overall attitude of godliness—have a place in the life of a Christian. James goes so far as to say that faith without works is dead. Who was James to talk that way? Well, he was Jesus’ half-brother, a natural child of Joseph and Mary. He rose to prominence in the Jerusalem Christian Church. James had been a skeptic of his brother’s claims, and that’s probably saying it nicely. Yet seeing his dead brother come back to life convinced him that Jesus was in fact the Son of God, the promised Messiah. James built the rest of his life around this fact. So this challenging letter has authority, even today.

            It’s no coincidence, then, that when you read this letter as a whole, it sounds an awful lot like Jesus. Like Jesus, he tells stories and paints word pictures to get his point across, and like Jesus, his point hard-hitting: you need to repent. You need to go in a different direction. If you don’t turn away from sin you will destroy yourself. Yet with God there is mercy. There is forgiveness of sins; there is a new beginning. James’ message is unsettling because Jesus’ message is unsettling. Jesus isn’t really interested in your comfort; what He wants is a new you. James is trying to tell you that. Do you want to hear it?

            The author Mark Twain once wrote: “Most people are bothered by those passages in Scripture that they cannot understand. The Scripture which troubles me most is the Scripture that I do understand.” James is troubling, yet he isn’t saying anything different than the rest of the Bible. He knows that we are saved not by our performance, but by Jesus’ performance. James knows that we are saved from destruction by faith in Jesus alone. You could not possibly earn the status of being a child of God, but it has been given to you. It has been declared of you. It has been implanted in you. God’s choice. It belongs to you by faith alone. All James is saying is that faith is never alone. Active service always follows along behind.

            Do you see what James is fighting against? It’s this idea that all “faith” consists of is saying the right words, or in my head, agreeing to a couple fine points of doctrine, and once I’ve done that, since I’m not saved by doing good works, I don’t have to do any. James comes along and says, “that’s not real faith.” If you have no desire to serve your brother; if you’re not really concerned about taking care of the people in your life, James says check your pulse. Your faith may be dead.

            So what’s the solution? What are we supposed to do? Try harder to be a better Christian? Dig down deep inside to strive for more integrity? No, that won’t work. We’ll just disappoint ourselves, feel guilty about it, and beat ourselves up, or stop trying. No, the solution is to become a sponge. Yes, you heard me right. We need to become sponges.

            Just imagine for a moment that you are holding a dry sponge in your hand. I mean, bone dry. Now imagine that you are squeezing that dry sponge as hard as you can. How much water are you going to get out of it? You’re right. None. That dry sponge can’t give what it doesn’t have.

            At different times in our lives, we let our faith become a dry sponge. We let all kinds of other things take precedence over getting that sponge wet with the Word of God. We let all kinds of other things take priority over sticking that sponge into God’s bucket. And then we actually wonder why God feels so far away. We actually can’t figure out why we feel so lifeless, even though we’re so busy. If you’ve let your sponge go dry, there’s just one solution, and it isn’t difficult. Get your sponge back into God’s life-giving water. Fill your sponge on the Word of God.

            When you fill your sponge, what do you get? When you soak up the Word of God, it almost goes without saying, you get God! You get Jesus! You get the blessing of sins forgiven. You get the relief of not having to try to earn enough points for Him to notice you—He loves you already! And even more than that, you get His status applied to you. Everything he did counts for you. Everything He is is true of you—you are treasured by the Father, you are perfect in His eyes—you are eternal. This is what you get in your sponge when you fill up on God’s Word.

            So do you see what that means? In life you are going to get squeezed. It’s guaranteed. But if your sponge is full of the precious gospel of Jesus, look at what’s going to pour out. If your sponge is dry, it’s going to hurt a lot. If your sponge has soaked in the promises of your Baptism and the identity of Jesus, pressure and stress, as unpleasant as they are, will cause the grace of God to overflow from you, you’ll get squeezed and it’ll flow out, and there’s the works that James was talking about. That’s why, as strange as it always seems, Christian people rise to the occasion—they lead the charge to help others in need. Some great trouble or tragedy occurs and it squeezes the sponges of Christian people. Those Christians take action. Not to save themselves. Not to earn points. It’s who they are. It’s who we are. It’s who we can be when we keep soaking up God’s Word.

            Educator William Cunningham tells the following story. It’s not about sponges, but it’s close. A man was out walking in the desert when a voice said to him, “Pick up some pebbles, put them in your pocket, and tomorrow you will be both sorry and glad.” The man obeyed. He stopped down, picked up a handful of pebbles, and put them in his pocket. The next morning he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of diamonds and rubies and emeralds. And he was both glad and sorry. Glad that he had taken some; sorry that he hadn’t taken more.

            God has priceless riches for you in His Word. He pledged those riches to you in your baptism. He serves those riches to you in Holy Communion. Don’t end up sorry you hadn’t taken more. Soak up God’s gifts and let them flow out of you. Be a sponge. Absorb the perfect love of Jesus. Squeeze it out and repeat. Not to save yourself. Not to earn points. It’s who you are now, in your connection to Jesus.

Funeral Homily for Nelda Allinson

Nelda J. Allinson was born Saturday, May 27, 1911 in Indiana. She was received into the Church Triumphant on Monday, July 23. Nelda was the daughter of Emil and Marie Polzin and attended Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church.

Nelda was a professional pianist starting at the age of 6 playing for her minister father for church services. She will be remembered as a truly vivacious lady.

Nelda is survived by one son-in-law: Robert Szczesny of Thornville; granddaughters: Sue & Phil Peters of NY; Jill Marie & Tim Salzler of Plain City, Jana & Bob McCarthy of Granville, Jenifer & Paul Schildwachter of Fallston, MD and Sandra Smith of Somerset; two grandsons: Robert & Cynthia Szczesny of FL and Jonathan &Ya-Fen Szczesny of Wisconsin and 32 great grandchildren.

In addition to her parents, Nelda was preceded in death by her husband: Stanley Allinson; one son: Allen G. Wem; one daughter: Gail Szczesny; and one grandson: Stephen Christopher Szczesny.

Imagine the changes that have taken place over the past one hundred and one years. Nelda didn’t have to imagine; she was an eyewitness, and a sharp-eyed one at that, observant to the end. She could tell you how much has changed and how much has stayed the same, and would not be shy about giving you her take on things. That’s just one of the qualities that I’m sure you’ll miss in her.

In a world of change and instability, there are some things that remain the same, no matter what. One of those things, the chief thing, is the Word of God. It is especially at a time such as this that we need the permanence of God’s Word; we need to be reminded of what’s true; we need the unchangeable realities that God speaks to us to break through our grief and minister to us. The great hymns of the church are an outgrowth of God’s Word, like sermons that we sing; the combination of music and message makes a deposit deep within us. So to honor Nelda’s memory and her beginnings as a church musician, and to give the gospel of Jesus Christ entrance into our troubled hearts, let’s consider some of the hymns that meant so much to her, hymns which she played, hymns that convey God’s truth to us.

The first is “I Know That My Redeemer Lives,” which we have sung today. It is a triumphant hymn that I recall from my earliest Easters, a hymn that gives voice to faith in a risen, living Savior. For me, it doesn’t really feel like Easter unless we sing this, and the converse is true too: singing it brings Easter here today. How we need to hear it: Jesus, my Redeemer--He lives and grants me daily breath; he lives and I shall conquer death. The brilliant and surprising thing about this hymn is that the portion of Scripture on which it is based is from the Old Testament, not the New, and what’s more, it’s from one of the oldest books of the Old Testament. “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end, he will stand on the earth” comes directly from the book of Job. In fact, it is Job who speaks these words of hope, in the midst of a terribly bleak situation. How amazing to consider—the thing that kept Job moving forward was the expectation that he would see his Redeemer in a resurrected body, and he held to this conviction centuries before Jesus emerged from his tomb! You see, a physical resurrection from the dead is not a New Testament innovation—it has been the Spirit-led outcome of faith from the very beginning! This was Nelda’s faith, the faith her father preached, the faith we cling to today; in the face of death, risen life is coming. It is coming because Jesus rose in a physical body, never to die again.

It is said that a seminary professor was once asked: “Over the course of his studies and academic career, what was the most profound thing you’ve ever heard?” He thought for a moment, and then replied sincerely: “Jesus loves me, this I know; for the Bible tells me so.” Nelda evidently thought so, too, as it was her wish that we sing this simple hymn today. Let’s be clear; it’s not easy to make things simple, but “Jesus Loves Me” does it. By singing it we are reminded that God’s fundamental posture toward me and all humanity is love. How do I know? The Bible tells me so. Yes, sin is real; it is deeply serious; and it must be punished. Yet in love, Jesus is the one to bear our punishment. The little and the weak belong to Jesus, and it is no matter; He is the strong one. And then the wonderful clarity of the second verse: “Jesus loves me, He who died/heaven’s gates to open wide/He will wash away my sin/Let His little child come in.” Nelda has entered in through heaven’s gate, the gate thrown open only by Jesus’ sacrificial death and resurrection. She has joined the white-robed multitude that the apostle John glimpsed in his vision of revelation: the white-robed multitude waving palm branches, surrounding the throne of the Lamb with endless praise. How do we know? The Bible tells us so. Another of our hymns for today, “How Great Thou Art,” captures the majesty of this experience, saying: “Then I shall bow in humble adoration, and there proclaim, my God, how great Thou art.”

We have gathered in this hour not only to grieve Nelda’s death, but to give thanks to God for her life among us and for her eternal life now with God.

We have gathered, not only to mourn over how different life will be without her, but to give thanks to God for how full life was when she was here with you.

We have gathered not only to think about the shortness and uncertainty of life, but to give thanks to God for His gift of eternal life, offered to all who are washed in baptismal water; upon whom He writes His holy Name; who thereby believe in Jesus’ sacrifice and resurrection.

May this good news come to you through the songs of the Church. May these songs lead you to the One about whom they sing: the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, Jesus Christ. May these songs prepare you to say, as Simeon did, as he held the infant Jesus in his arms, “Lord, now let your servant depart in peace; your Word has been fulfilled, for my eyes have seen your salvation.” And may these songs ready your heart for the day when you will sing at Nelda’s side; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

God's Great Faithfulness

“It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” Lam. 3: 26

You want to know what bugs me? I will admit this bothers me. I get a little perturbed when I go to a restaurant and someone who was seated well after me gets their food first, and I’m still waiting, sipping my water. Now, that kind of waiting is trivial. There are other kinds of waiting that can really break your heart and put your faith to the test. “Waiting quietly” is not something we normally think of as a Biblical virtue. Love, kindness, compassion, and yeah, maybe patience…but “waiting quietly”? Now that’s something (A) we probably don’t think of and (B) aren’t very good at, if we’re being candid.
The way the world is geared, combined with our human nature, doesn’t place much of a premium on “waiting quietly.” We are infinitely more interested in instant gratification; instant messaging; instant results. We prefer fast checkouts; fast food and faster service. And there is no slowdown in sight.
That means something has got to give when we don’t get our way right away. It can become confusing when we bring our hurry-up attitude to our relationship with God. One thing the mature Christian has learned by experience (not to mention the Word of God) is that God’s timing is always perfect—and it usually bears little resemblance to the timing we would prefer. It can be a hard lesson to learn (and re-learn), but the payoff is a peace of mind and heart that money can’t buy—as we grow to trust in the loving character of God.
The prophet Jeremiah wrote Lamentations, from which our Old Testament lesson is drawn today. And I’m willing to bet that Lamentations is not at the top of your list of inspiring reading material—after all, it is a book of lamenting—of crying! It’s a sad book. Jeremiah’s country, Judah, had just been destroyed by a foreign nation. His favorite city, Jerusalem, was ruined – just a pile of rocks now, with smoke rising up to the sky. It was truly a “9-11” type of situation for Israel, but worse. Most of the people of Israel were either dead or had been taken prisoner, and Jeremiah was one of those prisoners.
What makes it doubly sad is the fact that God’s people—leaders and normal folks together—had brought it on themselves by ignoring God and doing their own thing. It’s not easy reading, in part because it might mirror a little too accurately the way we live our lives. Yet having said all that, there is something inspiring here; something beautiful. Jeremiah is inspired to write, in the face of all the suffering, loss and grief that you could imagine, the following words: “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.”” “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” And a few verses later, “For the Lord will not cast off forever, but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love; for he does not willingly afflict or grieve the children of men.”
God’s people had been put in a situation where the only thing they could do was wait for the Lord to provide a solution. They had no power whatsoever. All they could do was trust that the Lord would deliver them. It is that thought that gives Jeremiah great hope and courage. Why? Because Jeremiah knows what the Lord is like. He knows the Lord’s personality. He knows that God longs for things to be good between himself and his creation. And because Jeremiah knows the Lord, he trusts that God will do the right thing.
And God did. He used the tragedy of Judah’s destruction to bring the survivors back to him—many of the survivors of Israel would repent of their sinful lives and come back to God. And years later, the survivors returned to Israel, and rebuilt the city, and eventually the Messiah was born right there in Bethlehem, just as God had promised. God never fails. But He works at His own speed. It is rarely the speed that we want him to work at, but it is the perfect speed. He gives us all the time we need to look in the mirror, to study that reflection, to see where the problem might be me and my sin. We are not to deny that sin or try to cover it up, but just confess it. Own it. Admit it. When you do that, then God can give you what His people waited so long to receive—the blessing of His Messiah. The full pardon and forgiveness created by Jesus’ death on the cross. Life the way it was meant to be lived that flows from our risen Lord Jesus. Those precious gifts can be yours today—no waiting necessary—by faith; by believing Jesus purchased these things and would give them to you. I have waited for things that just never came, and I’m sure you have too. But God never fails. He always has a plan. And when we are under adverse conditions, we don’t have to lose heart. Instead, we wait, and we wait confidently. Because we know, just like the prophet Jeremiah, what the Lord is like. We know the Lord’s personality. And because we know the Lord, we trust that He will do the right thing. If God sacrificed his Son for me, will certainly take care of me as I go through whatever problems come my way. It is good to wait quietly for the Lord, because we are waiting on someone who always shows up and always follows through in just the right way and at just the right time. Great is our Lord’s faithfulness to us.