Sermon for the First Sunday after Christmas

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“The Present-tation”

Text: Luke 2:22-40; Exodus 13:1–3a, 11–15; Colossians 3:12-17

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

What do you want for Christmas?

How many times did that question get asked this past month? And in how many different ways was it answered? We won’t hear it again for a while now, but it will come back. Next year. It always does.

But today I want to think about this: not how you answered that question, but how would Simeon have answered that question? The righteous and devout man we heard about in the Gospel today. This man waiting for the consolation of Israel. What did He want for Christmas?

Well, he wanted to die.

For, you see, he had been promised by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. So Simeon wanted to die, because that would mean this promise was fulfilled for him. He would have seen the Lord’s Christ, the promised Messiah, the Saviour of the world - His Saviour. 

So that day, the fortieth day after Jesus’ birth, when Joseph and Mary come into the Temple to do for [Jesus] according to the custom of the Law, Simeon received his present. Joseph and Mary came to present Jesus to the Lord, as it had been written in the Law since the day God brought His people out of Egypt in the Exodus, but it was Simeon who received the present. And that’s why he bursts out in joy, as we often do when receiving a special and much-wanted present. And so Simeon proclaims in joy, with his present in his arms, Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word. He was ready to die. Gift received.

Now, we don’t know when Simeon died, whether it was soon after this day or many years later. This is the last we hear of him. But neither does it matter - to us or to him. For he was safe in the arms of this one he now held in his arms. The arms not of a baby, but of the Almighty God who came in human flesh.

So while this day is called The Presentation of Our Lord, maybe we should say that a little differently today, and called it The Present-tation - the day Simeon’s present was given to him.

Of course, Jesus isn’t just Simeon’s present, He is ours as well. God’s Son is His gift to the world, to save the world. That all of us, like Simeon, may depart in peace when it becomes our time to depart this world.

And while that means death, it also means life. Because of Jesus, death is not the end of us, but the beginning of a new life. 

And maybe to understand that, we need to go back to the Exodus where, as we heard in the Old testament reading, this custom of the Law began. As you remember, Israel had been slaves in Egypt for some 400 years. They had gone down under the Pharaoh’s protection and with his blessing, but later Pharaohs forgot that, and it all quickly turned sour as Israel was subjected to a long, hard slavery. Which included death - not only under the harsh Egyptian whip, but also the commanded drowning of all the males babies born to Israel in the Nile River.

But into this life of misery and death, God came and rescued His people. Long before Simeon, they were the first to depart in peace - and joy! - as they departed the misery and death of Egypt for a new life. 

And now Simeon was following in their footsteps. His Christmas wish wasn’t really to die - he was already doing that! As we are. He wanted to live. Like Israel wanted to live. Simeon wanted to depart this dying world and live the new life God had for him. So when he talks about what receiving his present means, he is really doing what Moses told the people of Israel to do so many years before. For Moses said, as we heard earlier: when you are asked, hat does this mean? you shall say, By a strong hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery. So Simeon proclaims what Jesus in the Temple means. What does this mean? Jesus, as the Lord’s strong hand, is doing it again and rescuing his people, bringing us out of this world of slavery to sin and death to life. What He did for Israel in Egypt He is doing again . . . only on a much larger scale. And with the strong hand of this baby, His Son.

So that’s our Christmas present, too. Not just a baby and not just a Saviour, but life. A new life to live. Set free from our slavery to sin and death, and set free from the fear of death, to live. Because like Simeon, we’re dying. We don’t wish for it. It’s our reality. From the sudden and unexpected tornadoes in the south, to the pandemic in which people were so afraid of dying that they were afraid of living, to accidents, to all the other and myriad ways death comes upon us . . . the reality is that death is never far from us. We need life. And we need to be able to live without fear of what’s going to happen to us. 

So Jesus is born to give us just that. Simeon had his promise. So do we. Many, actually. Like, for God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). So when Jesus comes to us, like He came to Simeon that day, and we hold Him - not in our arms - but in our mouths as we receive His Body and Blood, we proclaim what this means: life! We sing Simeon’s very words and make them our own: Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word.

And since we can now depart in peace, we can also live in peace. Not in fear of condemnation, not in fear of death, but alive in Jesus. The kind of life St. Paul described in the Epistle today: where the peace of Christ rules in our hearts. Peace which overflows in forgiveness and love and thanksgiving. Lives filled with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Because of our Christmas present: Jesus, and His life. His life He gave for us on the cross, and the resurrection He promised us in His own.

That’s also the kind of life St. Stephen lived. Although we kept white on the altar today, we could have had red - for today is the Feast of Stephen, the commemoration of Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Maybe you know it from the song, that Good King Wenceslas went out on the Feast of Stephen. That’s today. The day after Christmas. And while I don’t know if Stephen died before or after Simeon, I do know he departed in peace, like Simeon. For after confessing What does this mean?, what Jesus’ birth and life meant (Acts 7), and while he was being stoned for that confession, he fell to his knees and cried out with a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” And when he had said this, he fell asleep (Acts 7:60). 

And Stephen received his Christmas present, and lived.

And that’s your Christmas present, too. That you can depart in peace and so live in peace. Maybe sometimes we think other Christmas gifts more important than this one. If so, we need to repent - which is really just to receive a far greater gift than the ones we think so important! And you if find yourself not living that new life that Paul talked about, and living in fear, not peace, take Jesus’ words and promises up again - in your ears and in your mouths - and with the people of Israel, and Simeon, and Stephen, rejoice in them. For that is the present Jesus has for you. A new life in Him. 

So after we receive the Lord’s Body and Blood today, sing Simeon’s words again today, and sing them like he said them - with gusto and great joy! Lord, you’ve done it! And I, I can depart in peace, according to Your Word. Gift presented. Gift received.

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

Sermon for the Nativity of Our Lord

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Jesu Juva

“The Word Became Flesh”

Text: John 1:1-14

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

Christmas is a time when people try to set aside and forget about the problems of life. At least for a day or few. Be merry, not grumpy. Generous, not stingy. It is a time to transcend the ordinary, the everyday, and fly above it all . . . for as long as you can, anyway.

But Christmas, for God, is exactly the opposite. For God it is not a day to try to forget about the problems of this world and life and fly above it all. Christmas is the day when God came down into the midst of it all. Into our trials and troubles, struggles and sins, grumpiness and guilt, doubt and death. Because today the Word became flesh.

John’s word are “the remedy against our making Christmas too heavenly.”* It’s easy to do. Even with Luke’s worldly account of the stable - we transform it into an idyllic scene, a Silent Night, a baby that doesn’t cry, as peaceful a night as there ever was, when the reality was exactly the opposite. God was born into a chaotic Bethlehem bursting at the seams with travelers who didn’t want to be there but had to be to register for a tax they didn’t want to pay. Strangers smelling like sheep burst into His delivery room to see Him - no security guards or doors that you need to be buzzed in. And a bone-tired Mary and Joseph who just wanted to go home. There, into a real world and real life - your real life - the Word became flesh. God is at home in the world.

Which is as it was meant to be. The God who made the heavens and the earth “was just as much at home in the Garden with Adam as He was in heaven with the angels.”* Until we decided we wanted to be the God of the Garden, but succeeded only in bringing darkness into the world. But the darkness, as John told us today, could not overcome the light. The light came into the world and shines in the darkness, for the Word became flesh.

John the Baptist came to point us to Jesus. To show us our sin and show us our Saviour. We shouldn’t have needed John, but when the Word became flesh, though the world was made through Him, we did not know Him. Our sin-induced spiritual Alzheimers means we look at Jesus and see only a man, a baby in a manger, a condemned criminal on a cross, like thousands of others had been. But John, the last and greatest prophet, and perhaps, we could say, the first apostle, said no! Not just a man - the Word. The Word became flesh.

But even with John’s testimony, some still did not receive Him. They scoffed at such a notion, that God would do such a thing . . . belittling God’s love and making Him a standoffish, demanding, angry God. 

But some believed John, and believing, marveled at God’s love for us. That God would be born a son of man so that we could be born as sons of God. Born, as we heard, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. God’s children, through Jesus, the Word made flesh.

But the Word didn’t just become a flesh, as in just a flesh and blood man - He became your flesh and my flesh and all flesh. In becoming flesh He took the sin of all flesh unto Himself. And with the sin of all the death of all. To say the Word became flesh is to say that He became sin for us - and not just little sins, but big ones, the worst ones. He became the worst of all sinners by taking the sin of all sinners. And He died the death of all. He died the death of and died for the sin of every person who ever lived, lives now, and will ever live. Your sin and your death, that it be yours no longer, but His. And in its place, give you His forgiveness and His life.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, John says. He didn’t just swoop in and swoop out, not really wanting to be here, getting it over as quickly as He could. He dwelt among us. Set up His tent here among us. Lived with us. It’s what He wants to do. Where He wants to be. With you. And so even when He ascended into heaven, said, lo I am with you always (Matthew 28:20). And not in some mystical, unknowable, omnipresent sort of way - though that is true. The Word is still flesh among us and He comes and feeds us with that Body and Blood He became for us. 

And with that, John says, we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

But this glory not an earthly glory. The glory of God is not in highness, but in becoming low. Is not in being served, but in serving us. The glory of God is the Word became flesh. That the almighty God would do that for you, for sinners, that’s glorious. And so every time a person is baptized, we have seen His glory. Every time His absolution sounds in your ears, we have seen His glory. Every time you eat His Body and drink His Blood, we have seen His glory. Every time the Gospel is proclaimed, we have seen His glory. The glory as of the only Son from the Father. The glory full of grace and truth. The glory of the Word became flesh.

So today, this Christmas day, we gather here in a place even more humble than where we usually gather, though far greater than where our Lord first came. Yet much remains the same. We confess our sin, we receive His absolution, we hear His Word, we sing of His mighty deeds, and we are fed by Him. Which means His glory is here, and we are filled with grace and truth. For we are filled with Him, the Word become flesh.

Whether we had a good year or a bad year.

Whether Christmas is a disappointment or a joy.

Whether our faith has been strong or weak.

Whether we’re healthy or struggling.

Whether rich or poor.

Whether the world thinks us anything or not.

Whether we’re praised or persecuted, glorified or vilified.

The Word became flesh where you are. No bidding you climb up to Him, but coming down to you in great meekness. To make His home with you, that your home be with Him. 

Or as we will now sing and confess:

The world may hold her wealth and gold;

But thou, my heart, keep Christ as thy true treasure.

To Him hold fast until at last

A crown be thine and honor in full measure (LSB #372 v. 6).

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

(* - Quotations from Dr. David Scaer, “The Word Was Made Flesh,” (Sermon for December 14, 1981) in In Christ: The Collected Works of David P. Scaer, Lutheran Confessor, Volume 1: Sermons (Chelsea, MI: Sheridan Books, 2004), 32-35.)

Sermon on the Eve of the Nativity of Our Lord

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Jesu Juva

“How Much??”

Text: Luke 2:1-20; Titus 2:11-14; Isaiah 9:2-7

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

Maybe this has happened to you: you open up a gift and find that the giver has accidentally left the receipt in the package. And not a gift receipt with the price hidden, but the real thing. And you can see what they paid for your gift - maybe in disappointment at how little they spent on you! Or the opposite - surprised at how much they spent on you; how much they thought you were worth. And maybe that’s a little embarrassing, if you don’t think anyone should spend that much on you. 

Tonight, we heard again how much God loves you and was willing to give, or pay, for you. And it is no disappointment, no little price. As creator of not only the world, but the universe and all there is, all that exists, He could have given any or all of that for you. But that was not enough. But what is there that is greater than all that? Than all that exists? Well, there is only one thing: God Himself. So God went into His innermost being, into what He is as God, and took what is dearest to Him - His Son, and gave Him as the price for you and me. To redeem us from our bondage to sin and death, so that we could have peace. Peace with God. Peace in our hearts and minds. 

That’s what the angels announced to the shepherds: For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Or in other words, the Lord - the Lord who created all things, the Lord who called Abraham, the Lord who rescued His people from slavery in Egypt, the Lord who came down on Mount Sinai, the Lord who led His people through the wilderness and into the Promised Land - that Lord, the Lord, is now lying as a baby in a manger! And because He is, glory to God on high and peace on earth to men. 

Because this baby isn’t going to stay a baby. He’s going to grow up and then do something even more surprising than lie as a baby in a manger - He’s going to hang from a cross. The Lord who created the trees will hang from one. The Lord who created all men will die at their hands. The Lord who gives breath to all life will breathe His last. For you. To redeem, that is, to purchase you. That is the price He will pay for your freedom. To pay for your peace. His death, your life.

Now, maybe you think God overpaid - if not for you, then certainly for the irritating person who lives next door to you, or bothers you at work, or cuts you off in traffic, or drives you crazy at school, or takes 5,000 items into the 10 items or less lane at the supermarket! They’re not worth that much! 

You think. But God thinks they are. And the people who think you’re not worth that much . . . they’re wrong, too. That baby in the manger proves it. When the shepherds looked into the manger, when we still do so today through the Word and the story Luke tells us, we see God’s receipt; how much He not only was willing to pay, but DID pay for us - that He gave His only-begotten Son. No matter what else you open this Christmas, no matter how much someone paid for your gift, you’re not going to beat that. 

So maybe that can help us look at others a little differently. Maybe that can help us look at ourselves a little differently. Unless God is wrong and made a horrible miscalculation! But I don’t think He did. At least, I’m not going to be the one to tell Him that! You? 

So maybe your value, your worth, your self-esteem, isn’t in what you do, your accomplishments, the name you make for yourself, how high you can climb the ladder, or how popular or admired you are. And not by how much others think you’re worth, or how they talk about you or treat you. And not by how good you are, how much you’re improving, or, that your value has gone down because, well, 2021 wasn’t such a good year for you, sin-wise. You messed up pretty bad. Again. And maybe again and again. But your value isn’t in any of that, because it came BEFORE any of that. That long before you were even born, God knew you, and thought you worth the life of His Son. That’s the receipt you get to see tonight, in the manger.

And true for you, that’s true for others, too. Jesus is their receipt as well. Which can help us look at them a little differently. I think that’s what Saint Paul was getting at in the Epistle we heard tonight, when He said that the grace of God - or, the gift of God, Jesus! - has appeared, bringing salvation for all people. Not just good people, or people that don’t irritate us, or people the world thinks worth something - but for all people. And knowing that, knowing how much God thinks they’re worth, and how much He think we’re worth, maybe we can start thinking like He does. Renouncing, Paul said, ungodliness and worldly passions - all the ways and thinking of the world and its values - and start living differently. Godly lives. Like Father, like Son, lives. Lives of love and good works for others. Not because it’s the Law and we have to, but because we saw the receipt, and . . . wow! That’s how much God spent for me? For them? Then maybe . . .

What do you think? That to us not only a child is born, but a son is given. That’s a pretty great light that helps us who walk in the deep darkness of this world see a lot differently. The light of God’s Son in the manger. The light of God’s Word spoken by the angels. The light of God’s receipt and the astounding realization of just how much He loves you.

And now that love will enter not only your ears and the eyes of your minds, but your mouths as we receive the Body and Blood that once laid in a manger, that once hung on a cross, but then rose from the dead, and now is here and given to you. For Jesus is not only the gift that keeps on giving, but the gift that keeps on being given to you as He gives you Himself and His forgiveness and His life and all that He is and has. That’s the gift He is for you. That’s the gifts He has for you. 

And while I don’t know what you think, He does not think He overpaid. And while Christmas might please you, it pleases Him even more. Because that great joy the angels announced? It’s God’s joy, given to you. For He wants you to have a Merry Christmas. So He sent His Son. He left the receipt there for you to see. He wants you to know how much He paid for you, how much He thinks of you. So that you’ll join in with the song of the angels in great joy. Which, actually, sounds like a really good idea. So let’s do that now . . .

[Congregation sings LSB hymn #380, Hark! The Herald Angels Sing]

(Idea of the gift receipt and a few of the thoughts and phrases contained in this sermon from Dr. David Scaer, “The Most Extraordinary Time” in Concordia Pulpit Resources, Vol. 32, Part 1 (Nov 28, 2021-Feb 27, 2022) 58-59. Though I used this idea from him, you’ll also hear a few differences between our takes on it.)

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Advent

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Jesu Juva

“The Night Will Soon Be Ending”

Text: Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-56; Micah 5:2-5a;

Text of LSB hymn #337

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

Well that didn’t sound very Christmassy! The music, that is, that we just sang (LSB #337). It was rather haunting and stirring, not at all like the Christmas melodies we all love and know so well. 

But the words . . . the words are priceless. The words are exactly what Advent and Christmas are all about. Words of hope. Words of promise. Words of comfort. Words about real life and real salvation. And where that all lies for us. In Mary’s infant Son, as the last three words of the hymn said. 

That was true for the man who wrote this hymn 84 years ago yesterday, December 18, 1937 in Germany. And for him, the night the hymn speaks of was very deep and dark, as he was living through the struggles and afflictions of the rise of the Third Reich. But like many other great hymnwriters, such struggles and afflictions are the good soil in which the Word of God grows and gives true hope, as it did for Jochen Klepper. The world thought World War 1 was the “war to end all wars.” But in 1937, on the eve of another World War, the brutal reality of sin and death was raising its ugly head again. As it not only does on a world-wide scale like a World War or a pandemic, but also on a smaller scale, like when it comes to you, personally. Those are the times the devil tries to rob us of our faith, but also the times faith often grows and flourishes, as with no where else to turn, with no other hope, we turn to the only true source of comfort and hope. Mary’s infant Son. So as Klepper wrote . . .

The night will soon be ending; the dawn cannot be far. 

Let songs of praise ascending now greet the Morning Star!

All you whom darkness frightens with guilt or grief or pain, 

God’s radiant Star now brightens and bids you sing again (v. 1).

If Klepper thought the night that would soon be ending was the darkness of the Third Reich, he was sorely disappointed. After he penned these words, that darkness got deeper as the war began and destruction spread. And he never got to see that night end, as he died at the height of the war, in 1942. But of course, that was the dawn he was really waiting for, and, even in the midst of fear and guilt, grief and pain, was singing about - the dawn of the Morning Star, Jesus, and the new life He brings. Even in the midst of war or pandemic, or the struggles or oppression you are facing, we have this confidence: the dawn cannot be far. Our Saviour who came is coming again, and will take us from this valley of sorrow to Himself in heaven (Small Catechism, explanation of the Seventh Petition). And so we sing, as God’s people have always done, defying sin and mocking death with the joy of faith in Christ. For . . .

The one whom angels tended comes near, a child, to serve;

Thus God, the judge offended, bears all our sins deserve.

The guilty need not cower, for God has reconciled

Through His redemptive power all those who trust this child (v. 2).

Here is the pure Gospel: the almighty God comes as a child. The one whom angels serve has come to serve us. The one offended by our sins comes to bear our sins. This is what the words from Hebrews we heard today were saying: He would do the will of God (that we do not!) in the body prepared for Him. He would be the sinless one who lived a sinless life, and then offer His sinless body and life as the sacrifice for our sins. The Judge would take our judgment, as Klepper wrote, so that we guilty ones need not cower in fear before God because of our sin and guilt. This child, Jesus, has taken our sins away, redeemed us, and given us the promise of life. Once and for all time. So just as . . .

The earth in sure rotation will soon bring morning bright,

So run where God’s salvation glows in a stable light.

As old as sin’s perversion is mercy’s vast design:

God brings a new creation - this child its seal and sign (v. 3).

Just as the sun rises on us each morning, so the Son - of God! - has risen and come for us. And this was the plan ever since sin’s perversion came into the world. As soon as it did, God was there with His mercy, promising a frightened, divided, and dying Adam and Eve not a small rescue, but mercy’s vast design: a Saviour, and a new creation. A promise He would repeat down through the ages. Or as Mary put it: He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his offspring forever. And now He has come to fulfill that promise, Himself, as a child born into our world, to purify us and sin’s perversion in us.

Yet nights will bring their sadness and rob our hearts of peace,

And sin in all its madness around us will increase.

But now one Star is beaming whose rays have pierced the night:

God comes for our redeeming from sin’s oppressive might (v. 4).

Klepper was no starry-eyed, head-in-the-clouds, rose-colored-glasses, reality-denying, romantic. How could he be with the rise of Hitler, the spectre of war, and the nightmarish times he was living through? He knew that the darkness and night and madness of sin was powerful, bringing sadness and robbing hearts of peace. He was probably speaking from personal experience. But in this darkness is a light, he wrote. The light of the world. The light of God’s Word. For the Son of Mary isn’t just in a manger, but ascended onto the cross because of the madness of sin, and now risen from the dead is the light that shines wherever His Word is proclaimed and His Sacraments given. And so Luther called the bread and wine of the Supper the mangers of Jesus for us today, where He is for us today. Coming to us with the power of his forgiveness to redeem us and free us from sin’s oppressive might. And if Bethlehem was not too little for Jesus, neither is any little church, wherever even only two or three are gathered in His Name - there is He with them, for them. To be their peace in a mad, mad, mad, mad world. For . . .

God dwells with us in darkness and makes the night as day;

Yet we resist the brightness and turn from God away.

But grace does not forsake us, however far we run.

God claims us still as children through Mary’s infant Son (v. 5).

God is not a light that shines on us from far, far away, but dwells with us in the darkness. But all around him, Klepper saw people resisting the light, turning away from God, either in pride and idolatry and the thirst for power, or in hopelessness and despair. But he knew, too, as we know, those same tendencies in us. To turn away from God instead of turning to Him. To be full of ourselves instead of full of Him. To think our situation hopeless. But, he says, grace does not forsake us. Though we may be faithless, he remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13). God keeps His Word. Always. No matter however far we run. I wonder if with those words, Klepper was thinking of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15), who was welcomed back, not as a servant, but as a son. Because of Mary’s infant Son. Because of our Saviour, born for us.

Our Saviour who, as Mary confessed, scatters the proud in the thoughts of their hearts, brings down the mighty from their thrones, and sends the rich away empty - even us, when that describes us. But then this, too: He humbles in order to exalt, and fills the hungry - those without - with good things. With faith, forgiveness, love, mercy, joy, peace, and life. No matter how deep the darkness or how mad the sin raging around us. For God has claimed you as His child through Mary’s infant Son, in Baptism, and isn’t going to take it back. He comes and calls and will not forsake you.

That’s the promise Klepper clung to in trying times, and the promise we cling to as well in our own trying times of pandemic, of persecution, and of the personal trials you are facing. The world has its joy this season, but our joy is deeper and far more lasting. For it is not just for a season, but eternal. That whether or not we ever see the night of sin and death over in our own lives, we know the faithful and true Morning Star will rise upon us and we will live in His light and life, rescued and redeemed and at peace. It is true, The Night Will Soon Be Ending for all of us, though we know not when. But when it does, it will be glorious, and a celebration far greater than when a World War ended. For the “war to end all wars” was really fought - and won - on the cross, and the peace and victory we will celebrate will be the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, which will have no end. 

So we’ll do as Jochen Klepper did, when he wrote: run where God’s salvation glows in a stable’s light. Of course, living some twenty centuries after Jesus was born, Klepper didn’t mean the little town of Bethlehem. He meant more like what Luther wrote, to run where God’s salvation glows for us today, and that is here, to the altar, to the manger of bread and wine that hold Jesus for us today. To receive Him, His Body and Blood. And with Him, all that He has done, all His gifts. Forgiveness, love, mercy, joy, peace, and life. So that no matter how deep the darkness, how mad the sin, how raging the world, we sing our songs defying the darkness, scorning sin, and mocking death, in praise of the one who breaks the darkness. 

For The Night Will Soon Be Ending. The Son has risen and is coming soon. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel (LSB #357)!

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

Sermon for Advent 3 Midweek Evening Prayer

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Jesu Juva

“Waiting in Wonder (Joseph)”

Text: Matthew 1:18-25; Isaiah 64:1-9

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

The time of Christmas really is “A Great and Mighty Wonder” (LSB #383). It is a great and mighty wonder that God would love sinners and rebels like us. Who sin not just a little, but a lot! Who are stubborn and slow learners. Who doubt and fear. It is a great and mighty wonder that God would then send His Son into this sinful and rebellious world, to save it. To save us. And it is a great and mighty wonder that God comes to us today with His gifts and gives us His life. Our God is truly a wonder-ful God. That is, a God full of wonder - wondrous deeds, wondrous love.

And I think that wonder is what Joseph must have felt. His world had just been rocked. He was betrothed to Mary and awaiting the day of their marriage when he found out the awful news that she was with child . . . and not his. No doubt hurt and perhaps a bit angry that he has been thus dishonored and shamed, he nevertheless does not return the hurt, vent his anger, dishonor or shame her. He resolves to divorce Mary quietly. And if Joseph’s anything like us, wondering what he did to deserve this.

But in his wondering, the God of wonder sends his angel to him with wonder-ful news. Things are not as they seem. In fact, just the opposite. Mary has not been unfaithful, God has been faithful! And you, Joseph, have not been dishonored and shamed, but honored by God and chosen by Him to care for and be the guardian of His Son, coming into the world in this wondrous way. His Son whose name you will call Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins. He will save YOU, Joseph, from your sins. 

At this point, Matthew simply records and reports that Joseph woke from sleep, [and] did as the angel of the Lord commanded him. But surely there was more to it than that. Surely Joseph wondered. Why him? He was just a tradesman, not person of standing in the world or in the community. And why Mary? Mary was just a young maiden no one had ever heard of. They had no wealth with which to care for the Son of God! What is this great and mighty wonder being revealed to Joseph?

And surely, over the course of the next months, Joseph’s wonder continued as he waited in wonder for the Son of God, for this gift of God, and for God’s plan to unfold. As he talked with Mary . . . as they traveled to Bethlehem . . . What a wonder-ful thing God was doing. A thing full of wonder.

For usually, when one thinks of God coming, it is more as the prophet Isaiah described: 

Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down,
    that the mountains might quake at your presence—
as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil—
to make your name known to your adversaries,
    and that the nations might tremble at your presence!

Like when God came down on Mount Sinai, and there was fire and the earth shook (Exodus 19:18). Or when God sent fire down on Elijah’s sacrifice in his contest with the prophets of Baal and consumed not only the water-soaked beast, but the wood, the altar, and the ground all around (1 Kings 18:38)! Or when the angel of the Lord came down and slew 185,000 enemy soldiers in one night (2 Kings 19:35). But now God coming like this? As a baby? Who needs to be fed and changed and carried about? And not with a king or queen or prophet as father and mother, but two lowly and unknown folks from Nazareth? Is this not a great and mighty wonder?

I wish we knew more about Joseph, his thoughts as he went through this time and waited in wonder. But that we don’t . . . well maybe that’s the point. All Joseph had to rely on was the Word of God as he waited for this birth, and even after. The Word would sustain him, as it had before this day. 

And that is true for us as well. God is doing wonder-ful things, things full of wonder, all the time. Some of them we know, many we do not. And surely many in ways we do not expect, as with Joseph. And we wonder; we wait in wonder for God. What is He doing? When will He act? And how? Where? Through whom? And then there are the wonders He is doing for you, and through you for others. If we do not see them, is it because we are too preoccupied with other things? Or simply because these great and mighty wonders are too wonderful for us to know? But God has given us His Word, and on that we rely. And His Word sustains us. That even if we do not know and cannot see and fall short in our understanding, our wonder-ful God is doing wonder-ful things. And we wait in wonder at His loving and saving work for us.

But this does not mean waiting idly. Joseph didn’t. He did as the angel of the Lord commanded him. As he waited in wonder, he did those things God had given him to do. He took care of Mary. He prepared for this birth and to be a father to this child. And so we do what the Lord has given us to do as we wait in wonder for our Lord to come again in glory. Maybe those things we are given to do seem small, maybe tiresome, maybe not really what we’d rather be doing. But God is working His great and mighty wonders through ordinary things and ordinary folks. Like Joseph, Mary, and you and me. He is the potter. We are the clay, Isaiah said. He is at work, working wonder-ful things. Whether they look it or not. 

So I think Joseph can teach us a bit as we wait for our Lord to come this advent season, and beyond. Even as Zechariah taught us about waiting in silence, and Mary and Elizabeth taught us about waiting together, so with Joseph, we wait in wonder. Wonder at the marvelous works of God. Wonder at His love and mercy. Wonder at His forgiveness. And most of all, wonder at the sending of His Son like this: the mighty God as a small and helpless baby. The greatest and mightiest wonder of all.

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

Sermon for the Third Sunday of Advent

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Jesu Juva

“Better than Christmas”

Text: Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 7:18-28

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

Do not be anxious about anything. That’s what the apostle Paul said today. He wrote that to the Philippian Christians, but also to us. I don’t know, I’m not sure, all that the Philippian Christians had to be anxious about, but it was likely many of the same things you and I get anxious about: personal problems, family troubles, the decay of society, the threat of persecution, sickness, financial difficulties, uncertainty with work and employment. Our world today is far different, yet at the same time not much has changed.

But this isn’t just a grown-up problem. You’re never too old or too young to be anxious. This pandemic has revealed that. One of the biggest problems that continues through this time isn’t physical health but mental health. It was a problem before, but this time of fear, separation, and isolation has revealed its scope and increased it exponentially. My wife has told me multiple times that the biggest issue facing the pediatric units at the hospital wasn’t and isn’t covid, but attempted suicides. And medical studies are backing that up now, just how much mental damage covid - and all that has come with it - has done to people of all ages. 

Add to that all the shenanigans going on in our culture, playing with people’s minds. Issues of identity and gender, who you are and who you should be, and can you even know? Can you be sure? And talk of all this as being fluid, ever-changing, so you can never be sure, never have a firm foundation. 

People are anxious. Almost all the time. Anxious about matters of life and death. Anxious about who they are. Anxious about the future. And now add to all that the pressures and expectations of the holiday season! Being told to feel a certain way when they don’t. Told be jolly and they aren’t. Being filled with hopes and expectations, and then disappointed when those hopes and dreams aren’t fulfilled like they are in all the holiday movies. And so many think: what’s wrong with me?

No wonder so many are lost and confused and depressed. Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you are there. Anxious, and yearning for peace.

Maybe like the disciples of John the Baptist who came to him one day, seemingly very anxious about all that Jesus was doing while John was languishing in Herod’s prison. Some think John was anxious, too. Maybe. But John doesn’t seem like the type. He was bold and brash, calling the Pharisees who came out to the Jordan a brood of vipers (Matthew 3:7), fearlessly railing against King Herod and his sins, and very confident in Jesus, on whom he saw the Holy Spirit descend in the form of a dove (Matthew 3:16) and to whom he pointed and said, Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29)! 

So I rather see John like a wise, old teacher, advising his students. They come to him anxious, breathless, questioning. And John, calmly, like one who has been through this before, points them to their answer. Go ask Him, he says. Go ask Him, Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another? That is, are you the promised Messiah or not? 

Their answer is in what Jesus did and had been doing. The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. All these are things the prophets said the Messiah would do. But not just to hand out Messianic goodies on a chosen few, taking away the sting of sin here and there - these were just the prelude to the main thing: taking away the sin of the world on the cross. We tend to focus on the goodies, that’s what we want. But Jesus - and John - are all about the main thing.

And you know, before John was in prison, while he was still baptizing at the Jordan, I’ll bet there were people like the ones Jesus healed who came out to him to be baptized. I never really thought about it before, but of all those people who came out, surely not all were in good health. There must have been those who were sick, lame, blind, diseased, outcast . . . and they went out there for a healing greater than just that of the body. The healing of the soul. The forgiveness of sin they needed. And John was happy to give it.

But now that Jesus had come and begun His work, the forerunner’s job was over. He had done it well. He had prepared the people. Now, it was time for him to move over, to retire. Jesus gives him high praise: among those born of women none is greater than John. Think about that. Not the Jews’ great Father Abraham, not the great King David, not the great prophet Elijah, or Moses - no, the guy in prison! None is greater than John. 

But it’s that next line that really, then, jumps out: Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he. Kinda puts things in perspective. That maybe the things in this world that we obsess about, the people and things we think so great, and that we want or want to be, aren’t really so great after all. And can’t give us what we need, what we’re looking for. Can’t give us that firm foundation we need to live a life of contentment and peace. A life where we aren’t anxious about anything.

But that’s exactly what Jesus had come to do. Give us that firm foundation we need to live a life of contentment and peace. That we not be knocked around and swayed and become breathless and anxious when the next thing happens. And there’s always a next thing. But instead know that your life is safe in Jesus. That you are among those greater than John! For by your baptism, you are a member of the kingdom of God, the family of Christ. Your sins have been washed away, which means they’re not going to condemn you and they’re not coming back to haunt you. And if your sins have been washed away, then death has also been taken care of, for the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23) - so while you’ll die, even as Jesus died, you’ll also rise to life again as He did. And live. 

And all of that is sure, accomplished, done by Jesus and given to you. So our life now is kinda like this . . . Say there was one really great Christmas present you wanted, more than anything else, ever. And you know, for certain, that you’re going to get it. That’s it’s been purchased, wrapped, and is sitting under the tree just waiting for you to unwrap it on Christmas morning. It might be hard for you to wait, but already now, waiting, you would be filled with joy knowing that the day is coming . . . 

That’s our life now as Christians. Our eternal life in the kingdom of God is purchased, wrapped, and just waiting for us to rise from the sleep of death on the Last Day to receive it. And while it might be hard to wait, and we might have bumps and troubles while we do, it is waiting for you. Guarded and kept for you by your Saviour.

Which changes how we live now. For the joy we have now, knowing the gift that is waiting for us, dwarfs all the trials and troubles satan can gin up and throw at us. And he’s got a lot! And tries a lot! And at times, succeeds in pulling our attention away from Christ and His victory and drags us down into this anxiety causing world. But as Paul said, the Lord is at hand, too. It’s not God up there, far, far, away, and satan down here, fighting us. The Lord is at hand. In flesh and blood. Flesh and blood that touched and healed many in the days of John, and His Body and Blood that touches and heals us today of our sins. And re-focuses us, and puts us back on the firm foundation we need. So that in this world of anxiety, change, challenge, and attack, we not be knocked around or knocked down, but rejoice! Rejoice even in the face of these things. Rejoicing always, as Paul said, because the Day our gift is to be opened is drawing ever closer.

Even ol’ John, stuck in prison. I don’t think he was happy about being in prison! But happiness is different than joy. And you may not be happy, and maybe not feeling very jolly. But you’re not great in the kingdom of God because you feel great, but because Jesus said you are. Feelings come and go, but the Word of Jesus stands forever.

I’m not sure how long John had been in prison when these things we heard about today took place, and John didn’t know it, but he was now very close to receiving his gift and becoming even greater - when he would lose his head because King Herod lost his and made a foolish promise. And I’m not sure how close any of us are, or what prisons or troubles you are languishing in right now as you wait. But as we wait, the Lord is at hand. And not just for others, but for you. So let your requests be made known to God, prayers and supplication, with thanksgiving. With the thanksgiving that re-focuses you away from the troubles and back onto Christ, His victory, and His gift.

And that thanksgiving isn’t just something to come up with in your heart, something else for you to do! It is actually something very concrete. For the word for thanksgiving there is eucharistias - eucharist, which is one of the names given to the Lord’s Supper. So Paul is calling us, in the midst of a world of anxiety, here. A place of peace. A place where we repent and receive he forgiveness we need. A place where we hear the assuring Word of God. A place where we pray together and for one another. And a place where we eucharist - give thanks for the gift of Jesus and at the same time receive Him, His life, and His peace.

So, rejoice in the Lord always? Do not be anxious about anything? That’s not Paul telling us to do the impossible, but inviting us to a better way. To the life Jesus has for us. Which is why we lit the rose-colored candle on the Advent wreath today. It is the joy candle. The candle that reminds us that Advent is half over now and our gift is that much closer. So we will eucharist today, give thanks, and receive His gift here while we wait for the Day of the BIG unwrapping. No, not Christmas! Better!

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

Sermon for Advent 2 Midweek Evening Prayer

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Jesu Juva

“Waiting Together (Mary and Elizabeth)”

Text: Luke 1:24-45; Isaiah 11:1-10

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

It is not good that the man should be alone (Genesis 2:18). A woman either. What was true at creation for Adam has been true ever since. We were made to live in community. Together. Just as God is not a solitary God but a trinity of persons, so man made in His image is to be a community of persons. There are to be husbands and wives. There are to be families. There are to be churches.

In the beginning, as we heard from the prophet Isaiah tonight, all creation was in unity and community. The wolf with the lamb, the leopard with the young goat, the calf and the lion, the cow and the bear, the nursing child and the cobra. And so peaceful, so united was all this that even a little child shall lead them. Until, that is, a serpent rose up, a serpent possessed, and struck the hand - and heart - of one of God’s little children, and shattered the perfect community of God’s creation.

But God would restore it. That was Isaiah’s message. What once was will be again. When a shoot will come forth from the stump of Jesse - the chopped down tree of Israel. But He will be not only a shoot from Jesse, but also, Isaiah says, the root of Jesse. Both branch and root - which isn’t the norm. To both come from a tree and be the source of that tree is quite unusual. Impossible, some might say. But not for God, of course. Such would be God’s restorer. One who is both man from Jesse’s tree, and Jesse’s source as God. And He would come as a little child to lead us back into community with God and with one another. That once again, as Isaiah said, the earth be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

So in the fullness of time, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. For David was Jesse’s son. And so Mary’s son, conceived in her not by Joseph in the natural way, but by the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit, would be both God (Jesse’s source) and man (from Jesse’s family tree). And He would begin His work not just as a little child, but as the most littlest child of all - a one-celled child in the womb of His mother. 

And it was when He was not much bigger than that, that Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to await this birth, along with the birth of the baby of her relative Elizabeth (Luke 1:36). To wait with Elizabeth. To wait together for God to fulfill His Word.

They could have waited alone. Apart. But the Lord brought them together in a special way - each with their own story to tell, each with a miraculous birth. The forerunner and the Messiah. And so Mary and Elizabeth waited together for about three months, until the time came for Elizabeth to be delivered. And for three months they blessed each other; were the Lord’s blessing to each other. Elizabeth blessed with the presence of her Lord. Mary blessed with the Word of God and encouragement from Elizabeth.

And so it is for us as well. We can wait alone, apart from each other, for the Lord. Every man, every woman, for himself, herself. Everyone on their own. But far better to wait together. To wait together in the community, in the church, God has miraculously brought us into. And yes, it is miraculous. It is God’s doing, not our doing, that we are all here, together, in this place. People from different places, different walks of life, different backgrounds, nationalities, and with different interests. In a little church that doesn’t look like much and is hard to find. Yet here we are. And not just for ourselves. But for one another. To bless one another. To bring the presence of Christ to one another, and to speak His Word and encouragement to one another. 

For there is not one of us here who doesn’t need that. Especially during the pandemic, when people were forced apart and isolated, what a blessing it was to have this church, to wait together, not alone, and to encourage one another. 

Which is exactly what satan does not want us to do. The one who possessed the serpent in the Garden to bite the hands and hearts of God’s children would bite us still today, in the places he hides today. Now, as then, he would divide us to conquer us. But the Spirit of God who miraculously created life in the womb of a virgin, miraculously creates life here as well, and brings us together in that life. To counteract the aloneness and separation that makes us vulnerable. To counteract the lies of satan with the truth of God’s Word. That we wait together for our Lord’s coming, when we will leap for joy in His presence when He comes to us - not in humility, in the womb of His mother, but in glory.

When He comes, as Isaiah said, with the fullness of the Spirit and judging in righteousness for the poor and the meek. For God has a special place in His heart for the lowly, the widow and orphan, the poor and the meek. Or as Mary would later confess, He scatters the proud in the thoughts of their hearts and brings down the mighty from their thrones, while He exalts those of humble estate, fills the hungry with good things, and send the rich away empty (Luke 1:51-53). We’ll sing those words again in just a moment, too, and make them our confession as well.

And while those words may be true physically, even more are they true for us spiritually, as our Lord exalts those who in lowliness repent with His forgiveness, and feeds those who hunger and thirst for righteousness with His Body and Blood. If you come here thinking you’re something, you leave with nothing. If you come here thinking you’re nothing, you’ll leave with everything. 

So tonight, really, not only did we hear about Mary and Elizabeth waiting together, but they waited together here with us as well, as we heard their stories and words. For they are part of the church, with us. They are part of the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, waiting together with us for the great and awesome day of the Lord. And that is good. For it is not good for the man to be alone. Women either. We belong together. We are together. For we are together in Jesus. We are now. And we will be forever. 

Come, Lord Jesus!

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