Monday, August 26, 2019

Funeral Sermon for William Douthwaite

Here is the sermon I preached at my Dad's funeral. If you want to watch and listen to the service, here is the link to the video my brother made on his cell phone.

Jesu Juva

“The Promise of Nothing”
Text: Isaiah 55:6-13; Romans 8:26-39; Philippians 1:18b-26; Matthew 28:1-10

I wrote this sermon when Dad was put on hospice for the first time; when we were told he only had ten days to live. That was three and a half years ago! God gave us the gift of these extra years, which were so precious. So, with a little editing . . .

Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

If you go with us to Mount Hope cemetery today, you will see those words etched into my father’s headstone. Those were his words. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord

And I think the older he grew, the more precious they grew, because it seemed like he was being separated from everything and everyone else. All of his immediate family has been gone for some time now. When you’re the youngest child, I guess that’s to be expected to some extent. But that has been the case for quite some time now - not just that they were all taken from him, but that they were so soon. Too soon.

Of course, the separation that hit him hardest was when his Nancy was separated from him. Being ten years older, he said, he always thought he would go first. A not unreasonable expectation, we would say. But that our Lord called her home frist, and almost 15 years ago, is another indication of what Isaiah said: that God’s ways are not our ways, and His thoughts not our thoughts

Then for the past almost six years, he was separated from his home - from the home he had lived in for almost 50 years, the church, here, that he was a member of for over 50 years, and from some of you that he had been friends with for 50 years. That grieved him too. He loved it here. He loved all of you. He didn’t want to be separated from you, but knew . . . but knew that it was needed. A bum hip, a tired body, and a failing memory were making it too hard to stay.

So Dad, I think, was a lot like the apostle John in this regard. John was the last one too. At the end of his life, he was separated from his home, in exile on the island of Patmos. In the book of Revelation, John sees visions of the martyrs who went before him - and I always think he saw his friends in that group in heaven wearing white robes. Peter, his brother James, Andrew, and the rest - they all went before him, too. 

But then Dad was like the apostle Paul, too. For Paul’s words from Philippians that we heard were his words: My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary . . . Dad didn’t know why staying was necessary; he wanted, like Paul, to go home. He said it many times. All the separation was hard for him. Hearing another friend had gone before him - especially his good friend Jack Buss - was hard for him. He wanted to go to that place Jesus had gone to prepare for him.

So how very, very precious these words of Christ for him, and for us today. As he, and we, live in the midst of a world of separation: Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Nothing. Neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation. Nothing. Not even a failing memory.

And the answer why is very simple: we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. More than conquerors through Him who was separated from His Father for us; forsaken on the cross for us. More than conquerors through Him who loved us so much that He entered into our death with us, enduring the condemnation of our sin for us. More than conquerors through Him who then brok the seal of the grave for us and rose to life again. More than conquerors through Him who then baptized us into His death and resurrection, that we might rise too. With Him. And never be separated from Him. Baptism is that inseparable bond where Jesus binds Himself to us, so that nothing can separate us from Him. Nothing. Yes, His Word and promise combined with that little bit of ordinary water is . . . that . . . great.

And Dad knew it. Jesus had planted that faith in his heart and made it grow and flourish over the years, as Dad was fed by the Word he heard preached here by so many pastors over so many years from that third pew on the left - right in front of the pulpit. That was his pew. And as his faith was strengthened by the Word of Absolution he heard pronounced here so often, and as he was fed by the Body and Blood of the Lord at this altar. Jesus was holding onto him.

And that’s why a few years ago, Dad wanted to make sure of his baptism. One day he started thinking about the fact that while he thought he had been baptized, and was pretty sure he had been, he didn’t have a certificate, and all that had witnessed it were already gone. The church wasn’t even there any more. But he wanted to be sure. It was really important to him. To have the nothing of baptism - the nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus - that was so important to him. 

And so my sister started making phone calls and investigating and following up . . . and finally found a pastor who had the records from the old church that had once been there, and Dad made a copy of the page showing that he had been baptized on April 20, 1924. And just how important that was to him is shown by the fact that he kept that page in special folder all its own, which he kept in his fireproof lock box with all his other really important papers.

Ironically, while we were looking at some of his old papers on Tuesday, we found his baptism certificate - it was on the display you saw when you came in. He had it all along. He just forgot. Toward the end, he forgot a lot of things. But Jesus never forgot him. Jesus never forgets his children.

Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Which is why he could say so often, with Paul, and pray for the Lord to take him home, to that place prepared for him. It wasn’t because he was so strong, so faithful, or so good - but because he had Jesus’ promise. Nothing can separate me from you, Bill. Nothing. Tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword . . . or dementia? Nah. I beat it all. I am your Good Shepherd. You shall not want . . . and you shall dwell with me in my house forever.

So now Dad has been separated from us - but just for a little while. The Father who did not spare His own Son but gave him up for us all, has now answered Dad’s prayers and called our father home. As He graciously gave him all things here in this life, so now still graciously giving him all things - including rest and peace and no more pain, as we await the day of the resurrection of all flesh. Our grand reunion with Dad and Mom, Bill and Nancy - Uncle Bee - and All the Saints who from their labors rest (LSB #677).

So we will do as Paul said, and rejoice today. That’s not the same as being happy. We’re not happy to be here today! It’s better than that. It’s that because of Jesus, because of His death and resurrection for us, because of His promises, because of His forgiveness . . . we can rejoice even in the midst of sadness and separation. Because He conquered them. Because He is greater than them. Because We Know that Our Redeemer Lives (LSB #461).

And we’ll also do what Paul says in another place (1 Thess 5:18), and give thanks. Thanks for Jesus and all that He has done for Dad and for us. But also thanks to God for giving us this man for so many years, as father, grandfather, and great-grandfather; as uncle and friend; as His blessing to us.

So thank you, Father, for this our earthly father, and friend. For giving us a father who loved us, especially when that love showed itself as a leather belt across my disobedient and rebellious butt. For giving us a father who took us to church faithfully, who had us baptized, and showed us the importance of faith and being in the Word. Who showed us by devotions every night after dinner, lighting a candle and reading the Scriptures.

Thank you, Father, for giving us a father who showed us what love is as he took care of Mom in her last days. For giving us a father who prayed - the image of that I will always remember is of him sitting in his recliner in the morning, before work, before the sun came up, with his Bible on his lap, his eye closed, and his hands folded.

Thank you, Father, for giving us a father who was a sinner and showed us how important your forgiveness. For giving us a father who struggled, to help us learn from him and giving us a chance to care for him and love him and understand that when we are weak, you are strong (2 Cor 12:10). For giving us a father who wasn’t afraid to cry, and who taught us the importance of family.

But thank you most of all, Father, that You put him in Your family. That You adopted William as Your son. That You baptized him, redeemed him, forgave him, and at 2:17 am Monday morning, took him home to be with You. And thank You for the confidence that we now have in Your Word, not only that he is with You, but that we will be too, one day. That the “nothing” that was so precious to him is also for us. That it is true: Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Nothing.
For Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


Sunday, August 25, 2019

Pentecost 11 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Disciplined for Holiness”
Text: Hebrews 12:4-29; Luke 13:22-30; Isaiah 66:18-23

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.

At my father’s funeral, my brother, his son, and I all mentioned discipline in our sermons. My nephew talked about something my father had written, which referred to the strap that ended all foolishness in my father’s house when he was growing up. I mentioned the leather belt my father sometimes used on my butt, thankful that he loved me enough to discipline me. And my brother said that even though Dad disciplined us like that, he always made sure to tell us he loved us.

Now, the thought of a strap or a leather belt may horrify you. That kind of discipline isn’t done much today, if at all. As times change, discipline changes. In the same way, we cringe over how God disciplined Old Testament Israel, and perhaps think what we read in those pages as barbaric. But as times change, discipline changes. The methods change - from armies, to straps and belts, to time outs today. The methods change, but the discipline continues. Because love continues. And the Lord disciplines those he loves.

And the reason for dicipline is to instill a discipline. Discipline isn’t just to stop a bad behaviour, but to instill a good one. My father disciplined his children to instill in us the discipline of telling the truth and not lying; to instill in us the discipline of honesty and not stealing; to instill in us the discipline of respect and not dishonoring those around us. And those are good things. At the time, as we heard from Hebrews today, it seemed painful and not good. But looking back, I can see (hopefully) the fruit that it yielded, the good that such training did in my life.

The Lord’s discipline, too. We heard today that God disciplines us that we may share his holiness. That’s a good reason. God wants to share His holiness with us. He wants to give it to us. The problem is that we keep going after other things that look better to us than holiness. You know what they are for you. I know what they are for me. God knows that those things are not good for us, as my father knew my misbehaving was not good for me. And so His discipline. He treats us as His children. His children that He loves enough to discipline. 

But if the goal is that we share His holiness, how is that done? How does God make us holy? There isn’t a discipline of holiness - that is something from God, that He shares with us, gives to us. So the discipline that God seeks to instill in us with His discipline is the discipline of repentance. The discipline of putting our faith in Him and turning to Him for every needed thing. For if sin is turning away from God and getting for ourselves, then repentance is turning toward God and receiving from Him. Receiving from Him what we need, namely, forgiveness for our sin. The forgiveness that makes us holy again. That is the gift Christ freely gives, through the gifts He freely gives us here (LSB #602). The gift earned for us by Jesus and His cross, His death and resurrection for us.

Which makes the cross the narrow door Jesus was speaking of in the Gospel today. The narrow door through which one is saved. Doing good isn’t enough. Stopping sin isn’t enough. We have to receive a holiness we cannot achieve for ourselves. A holiness only the holy one can give. And wants to give. And so He disciplines us. To instill in us the discipline of repentance, of coming to Him to receive His holiness in the forgiveness of our sins.

You may wonder, though, why this door is narrow. If God loves us, why not make the door wide and easy to get through? 

Well, first of all, be thankful that there is a door at all. When Adam and Eve brought sin into the world, it wasn’t like a wall had been built between us and God, brick by brick, little by little, sin by sin. It was more like an iron curtain that had suddenly crashed down and divided us from our heavenly Father. But immediately, God made a door in that iron curtain. A cross-shaped door. His love wouldn’t let Him wait. He promised them a Saviour. And He disciplined them, too. They would have trials and troubles, that they repent and rely on Him; turn to Him for whatever they needed. And He would provide it. As He always had, so He would continue to do. Even the forgiveness they needed for their life-changing, world-ruining sin. So first of all, be thankful that there is a door for us at all.

But second, understand this too: narrow isn’t a bad thing. Rather, the door is narrow because God’s forgiveness, His salvation, His gifts, aren’t given en masse - they are given individually. To one sinner at a time. Baptism isn’t by fire hose, but one person at a time. The Body and Blood of Jesus are placed into your mouth, one at a time. Even absolution, pronounced here all together, is meant to be heard as your Saviour speaking to you. The individual, private, one-at-a-time absolution extended here as we gather together as one body of Christ here is this place. And so narrow isn’t to keep people out, it is to love them one at a time. Each person, each individual, loved, forgiven, cared for, died for.

The Gospel today mentions Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Individuals, who God spoke to individually. And perhaps you wish God would speak to you in the same way. Well, He has. You’ve heard Him. I baptize you. You, take and eat. I forgive you. You, My child. And though you be last in the eyes of the world, despised, neglected, mocked, ignored, you are first in His eyes. Whether you come from the east or west, the north or south. There is a spot at the table in the kingdom of God for you.

So strive to enter through the narrow door, Jesus said. The word there in the Greek for strive is a good one: agonizomai. Agonize. It’s used in other verses for struggle, fighting, or the agony of an athlete. Or in other words, it’s not easy. For repentance is not easy. You will struggle against many temptations to sin. You will fight your own urges and desires. To pray and repent every day, to come here and repent every week, is like an athlete in training that wakes up every day at 5 am to work out. Agonizomai. Agony. But in the end, worth it. Or is your sin worth getting shut out of heaven for? Is getting what you want now worth going to hell for? So your Father disciplines you, to instill in you the discipline of repentance, that He share His holiness with you. For He loves you.

But maybe what makes such repentance a little easier is again what we heard in the reading from Hebrews. For when you pray and repent, when you come here and repent, you are not coming to a fearsome God, a punishing God, a God you must cower before and beg for a forgiveness you do not know if you will receive or not. No, you are coming to Mount Zion. And Mount Zion is the place of God’s grace poured out for you. It is the place of innumerable angels is festal - joyful - gathering. To join with those who have already passed through death to heaven and the presence of God. It is the place where Jesus, your mediator, is. And whose blood poured out for you, poured on you in the water of baptism, and poured into you with the wine of His Supper, cries out not for vengenace, but for your forgiveness. For your every sin. And it is so. You are holied. 

And if you’re still not so sure about that, look again to the cross. Look at the blood of Jesus there, and hear what Jesus cries out there. He does not cry out for venegance, but for your forgiveness. For that’s why He’s there. As mediator. Taking your sin and unholiness and giving you His forgiveness and holiness. So that when the time comes, as Isaiah spoke about, to gather all nations and tongues on the Last Day, you will sing the praises of Him who did such great things for you. For yes, He knows you. You are the one He baptized. You are the one He forgave. You are the one He fed. You are the one who prayed: Lord, have mercy! And though He disciplines you now, for a while, for your good, and though you struggle now, you will recline at His table in the kingdom. And when you do, the discipline, the struggle, the agony of death, will not even be a distant memory. They will be gone. Along with your sin. And all there will be is joy - the joy of being in the presence of God, and His joy in you, His child. And you’ll be home - at last, and forever.

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sunday, August 4, 2019

Pentecost 8 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Relax, Eat, Drink, and Be Merry! Yes!”
Text: Luke 12:13-21; Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-26; Colossians 3:1-11

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

The rich man in the parable Jesus told today was exactly right. Maybe you’re surprised to hear me say that. Because Jesus criticizes him. Jesus calls him a fool. Jesus holds him up as an example of what not to do. And that’s right, too. But the rich man’s desire to relax, eat, drink, and be merry is spot on. That’s exactly what God wants for you. Now. As His baptized children, you can relax now in your Father’s love and care for you. You can eat and drink here and now at His Table. And you can be merry now because you have an inheritance in heaven that your brother, Jesus, provided for you with His death and resurrection. An inheritance that doesn’t end or go away when you die, but one that will never be taken from you. 

So this rich man was a fool not because he wanted this, but because he could have been doing this all along, but didn’t. He missed out because he misunderstood life. And the man who came up to Jesus that day was in danger of doing the same thing. He was playing the part of the fool in this parable. And maybe he’s not the only one. But this man, he had an inheritance he wanted divided. That means someone died - most likely, his father. And maybe his father was a rich man. Maybe a rich farmer. Who maybe just had an amazing harvest, had built huge barns, and thought he had it made for the foreseeable future. But no. Suddenly he died. And now . . . was it his son who came to Jesus, wanting his share of these riches his father never got to enjoy? His son, making the same mistake? Looking for life and happiness and security in the wrong place? His son, the foolish apple not falling far from the foolish tree? Imagine if that was the case, and Jesus is telling a parable here, based on real life events? Think that might wake this man up and change his thinking in a hurry?

But we’re not this man, and so the impact of this parable is perhaps less for us than it was for him. For we know it’s right. We know it’s true. We know we shouldn’t be like that. But . . . do we still play the fool? Are we missing out on our relax, eat, drink, and be merry life until it is too late for us? Are we forgetting who we are? If Jesus were to tell you this parable today based on your life, how would it go? What do you think you need, what are you asking Jesus for, so that once you get it, then you can relax, eat, drink, and be merry? A certain job or amount of success? Financial security? Family peace? The right friends, popularity, or achievement? How would your parable go . . . ?

Well, however it would go for you, all our parables end the same way: death. And if your life is wrapped up in the things of this world, then death is the end. Somebody else gets your stuff. All that you worked so hard for, all that you lost sleep over, all that you sacrificed for, that you didn’t get to relax, eat, drink, and be merry for - somebody else gets it. And they may or may not appreciate it, or you. They may waste it. That’s what vexed Solomon when he wrote Ecclesiastes. Why am I doing this, he asked? What’s the point? This kind of life that ends in death is, as he described it, vanity and a striving after wind.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, your Father in heaven doesn’t want it to be that way for you. And so He sent His Son - not to dish out justice in this world, to divide inheritances and make sure we get our fair share. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have more than others, maybe others will have more than you. Jesus isn’t here to make sure you get what’s coming to you, what you deserve - He’s here to make sure you get His inheritance. He’s here to be the rich man who has it all and dies, so that you can inherit His riches.

So to do that, a couple of things have to happen. First, the Son of God has to die so that you can have His inheritance. For that how inheritances work - someone dies and leaves their stuff for the heirs. So the Son of God comes down from heaven and becomes man, Jesus. And He comes not to show us how to live, how to be good or to be our example - He comes to die. And so die He does. His whole life is a journey to the cross. His whole life is to do this for you. So that you can have what’s His. And since He knows His life this way, notice how Jesus lives. Isn’t He usually (or always) relaxed, eating and drinking, and being merry? And with sinners! Because that’s who He’s dying for. That’s who needs His inheritance. And He wants them to know it. And to rejoice. That’s His joy.

So Jesus dies. That’s the first thing. But He also needs sons to receive His inheritance. But He knows we’re fools. Adam and Eve proved that, throwing away a perfect world in search of something more, better. And down through the centuries, to you and me today, we keep proving it too. So we’re not going to be sons if left to ourselves. We can’t. We are by nature fools. So the second thing Jesus does is make us His children. Children of God. He baptizes us and we become sons of God by this new birth. Our first birth is a physical birth, sons of men, fools. Our second birth is a spiritual birth, as sons of God, in faith. Since we couldn’t do that ourselves, Jesus provides that for us, too.

So at the end of His life, on the night when Jesus is betrayed, and with just hours until His crucifixion, what does Jesus do? He gives His children, His disciples, their inheritance. His last will and testament. This is the new testament in my blood, He says as He gives to them. And look at the disciples - how are they, what are they doing at this moment in the upper room, receiving this inheritance from Jesus? They are reclining at the table (relaxed), eating and drinking, and (we could say) being merry. Not merry in the sense of being gleeful, but being glad in the presence of Jesus. And glad receiving from Him this gift - which is not just His Body and Blood, but everything that comes with that: the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. Soon, they’re going to witness what Jesus had to do to provide that for them - His death of the cross. But then they would also be witnesses of His resurrection. Witnesses that in Him, death need not be the end of a foolish life, but the beginning of a life without end. The beginning of a life that death can no longer touch. 

That’s the life now here for you. For your rich man is here, His testament is here, His Body and Blood is here, His forgiveness is here, for you. And for this you do nothing but receive it. He is the one who died. He is the one who is the host at the meal. He is the one who gave you life, both physically and spiritually, to receive it. He simply now says to you: relax, eat, drink, and be merry! This is all for you.

And so it is. A simple meal in the midst of mixed-up, cluttered lives, to cut through all the clutter and give us what we really need. And really want. We just keep looking for it in the wrong places. So that whether we have much or little, whether we are young or old, whether there are still things we want to achieve in this life or we think we’ve made it - no matter where you are in life, Jesus is inviting you to relax, eat, drink, and be merry. Now. Not in the things of this world, which betray us, let us down, and come and go, but in Him who never will. In Him who gave Himself and all that He has, for you. 

It is sad that so many people spend their whole lives in the pursuit of all kinds of wealth, only to come to the poverty of death. The picture of life that Solomon saw. But Jesus is exactly the opposite - the one who became poor in life for us, and with His death made us rich. And you are. Now. Whether you know it or not. And so while death is waiting for all of us, so is Jesus and His inheritance and His life. So relax, eat, drink, and be merry, He says. I’ve got it covered for you. 

Which doesn’t mean don’t do anything. That would be a rather boring and unfulfilling life. Rather, do everything with this mind, knowing who you are, what you already have, and where your life is. And so enjoy what God has given you. Use your talents and abilities. Strive to be the best you can be. Be a blessing to others. But know that these are things in your life, they are not your life. Christ is your life, as St. Paul told us today. Nothing else. For nothing else can give you life. Everything else, if you look for life there, only takes away life. But Christ gives life. He gives you His life. He gives you eternal life. And when Christ who is your life appears, Paul says, then you also will appear with him in glory. You will receive your inheritance in full.

So yes, relax, eat, drink, and be merry! Quite right. But not only when . . . this or that . . . but now. Because you’re a child of God - even in the midst of trouble, in the midst of death, in the midst of whatever you are going through and this sinful world is dishing out. Jesus is here with you in the midst of it all, providing for you, serving you, saving you. So come eat and drink, Him, and depart in peace, relaxing and rejoicing in Him. 

For you’re a child of God and the inheritance is yours. 

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.