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.

Now Is The Time

For those who haven't read it, "Tuesdays with Morrie,” published in 1997, is the true story of how sportswriter Mitch Albom becomes reacquainted with his former college professor Morrie Schwartz. This happens shortly after Morrie is diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease, a terminal neurological illness. Morrie was Mitch's favorite teacher in college because he was so unconventional and insightful. Mitch decides that although he hasn't spoken to his favorite professor since graduation, he needs to go see him to say goodbye. Mitch's goodbye turns out to be a series of consecutive Tuesdays spanning many months. During that time, one of the things Morrie said to Mitch was this:

“Everybody knows they’re going to die, but nobody believes it. If we did, we would do things differently…
There’s a better approach than kidding ourselves. To know you’re going to die and be prepared for it at any time. That’s better. That way you can be actually be more involved in your life while you’re living.
Every day, have a little bird on your shoulder that asks, Is today the day? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person I want to be? … The truth is, once you learn how to die, you learn how to live…
Most of us walk around as if we’re sleepwalking. We really don’t experience the world fully because we’re half asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do…
Learn how to die, and you learn how to live.” So says Professor Morrie Schwartz.

Have you learned how to die? Can you deal with the thought of your own death? I’m here to tell you today that the Christian faith is uniquely able to help you wrestle with questions of death and life.

There is wisdom in what Morrie Schwartz said. He knew (as we all know) that when there’s something really unpleasant that we have to deal with (and what could be more unpleasant than thinking about your own death) a very common human reaction is simply to delay. We do this all the time. You have to have a really hard conversation with someone, you delay. You have a big assignment or project to do, you delay. You think about making some hard changes in your life, you delay. You think about the stone cold truth that one day you will be dead…how are you going to face that? How are you going to deal with that? Will you delay?

Don’t do it. Don’t delay. The Bible says, “Now is the day of salvation.” Now. Today. Why now? Why today? Because you know as well as I do that there are no guaranteed tomorrows. But not only that. It’s not just “act now, the deal ends tomorrow.” The package deal that God is offering you today will enable to make peace with that bird on your shoulder. The one Morrie Schwartz was talking about. The one that keeps asking, Is today the day? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person I want to be?  Those questions are terrifying, don’t you think? No, I’m not being the person I want to be. Are you? No, I’m not doing all I need to do, are you? Is today the day? I have no way of knowing. Am I ready? Are you ready to die—leave it all on the table? This is what makes Christian faith so persuasive and powerful and beautiful. You can say “yes.”

You can say, “Yes, I’m ready.” You can look at that bird on your shoulder square in the eye and say, “I am ready because Jesus lived, and Jesus died, and Jesus rose again and Jesus lives and rules. If today is my last day on earth, I’m ready, because my last day here is my first day in eternity. I’m ready for what comes next, and it’s more than just a quote-unquote better place. I will be with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in perfect love and happiness. He has paid for my way there. Yes, I’m ready.”

Do you have that confidence? You can. If you don’t, now is the day of salvation. Now is the time to shift your ultimate trust from yourself to Jesus Christ, who has secured your future with his suffering, death and resurrection. Think about it, now. The Bible says that God has made it possible for all people to live with Him forever. If you’re convinced that Jesus has opened this door for you, what is there to be afraid of? What is there to be worried about? Don’t you see? The promise of eternal life isn’t just about your final exit; it changes life now, today! You will live forever. You will have a resurrected body. That’s what all this means! So with all that taken care of by a gracious God, you can be fully engaged in what you’re doing. You can really live life.

None other than Martin Luther himself is quoted as saying, “Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.” Do you understand what he’s saying? Because Jesus has made you an eternal being, you can relax and do what needs to be done today. In fact, it makes what needs to be done today, planting a tree, for example, high and holy work. You can have this peace. You can welcome that bird on your shoulder. You can possess this sense of purpose and perspective, and you can have it now.