Sermon for the Festival of the Reformation

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Jesu Juva

“The Peace of Jesus in a World of Violence”

Text: Matthew 11:12-19; Romans 3:19-28; Psalm 46

 

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

Six years ago, in 2017, a big deal was made about the 500th anniversary of Luther’s posting of the 95 theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg - the event that kicked off the Reformation. Since then, there have been other 500th anniversaries for other Reformation events and milestones, some of which we have remembered. In 2020, it was the 500th anniversary of Luther’s three great theological treatises, including On the Freedom of a Christian. 2021 marked 500 years since Luther’s famous “Here I Stand” speech at the Diet of Worms. 

And this year, 2023, marks the 500th anniversary of another significant event - though one that is far less known than those others. On July 1, 1523, two young men - Hendrik Voes and Jan van Essen - became the first two Lutheran martyrs. Many, including the Pope and the Emperor, wanted that honor to go to Luther himself! And Luther thought he would be, but, he said later, he was not worthy. And this martyrdom wouldn’t even happen in Germany, but in Brussels, which was then a part of the Netherlands. Two young men were imprisoned, refused to recant that we are saved by grace through faith alone, and so were burned at the stake. When Luther found out about it at the end of that month of July, he wrote a hymn - the first hymn he ever wrote - to commemorate these young men and their memory. I won’t read the whole thing, but here are the first two verses:

A new song be by us begun,

God help us tell the story,

To sing what our Lord God hath done

Unto His praise and glory.

At Brussels in the Netherlands

Hath He made known His wonders

Through two mere boys, right youthful lads,

Whom He with heav’nly treasures

So richly hath adornèd.

The first right fitly John was named,

So rich he in God’s favor;

A Christian true and free from blame

Was Henry, his dear brother.

Out from this world they both have trod;

Their heav’nly crowns they cherished;

Like any pious child of God,

For His Word have they perished.

His martyrs they have become.

Notice how Luther writes not of this event as a tragedy or defeat, but as victory! That through this martyrdom, God has glorified and magnified His Name. It is the theology of the cross - that God does His greatest work by what appears to be the opposite.

And so it is with all that in mind that we come to the Holy Gospel for this day, where we heard Jesus speak of violence. [Jesus said:] From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force. For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John, and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.

Violence. There’s certainly no shortage of that in our world today. It is filling our TV and computer screens, from Ukraine to Israel to cities in our own country to the mass shooting just this week in Maine. And not just since the days of John the Baptist, but all the way back to the beginning of creation, when Cain killed his brother Abel because he was jealous that Abel’s sacrifice was accepted and his was not. Prophet after prophet sent by God suffered violence, were rejected and killed, the last of which was John the Baptist, who was beheaded by King Herod. Violence surrounds our celebration of the Reformation as St. James of Jerusalem and the apostles Sts. Simon and Jude - all martyrs - were commemorated this past week. 

Violence. It is the modus operandi of sin and satan. Take what God has created good, and violence it. Good gifts abused and misused, twisted thoughts and desires, life trampled into death. The book of Revelation (ch. 12) told us it would be so, that after the dragon had been cast down to the earth and he could not destroy the male child, the Messiah, he is now making war on the church. The means to his end is violence. And when Jesus says that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, he is including Himself there - for He is the Kingdom of heaven come down to earth who suffered the violence of the cross. Strike the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered (Zech 13:7; Matt 26:31). Perfect, thought satan. That’s what I’ll do.

But while violence is the modus operandi of sin and satan, it is not the goal. The goal is to undermine faith; to rob you of your faith. It is to scatter you; to separate you from Jesus. It is to make you doubt God and His words and promises. To make you think either God too weak and not able to help, or that He is able but too unloving to help. To make you believe that God is not really in control. To make you think Jesus is no Saviour. Look at all the violence, hate, and suffering in our world - you still think there is a God? Look at how your life is going - you still think God cares about you? Look at Christ crucified and dead - no life, no saving there This is how things work in the world. It is a dog-eat-dog world. And you better get on board or you’ll wind up the same way - on the wrong end of the violence.

Yet despite all the violence of sin and satan from the very beginning and throughout time, the Church is still here. Because while you have a crucified Saviour, you do not have a dead Saviour. You have a Saviour who descended into the violence of our world, took it, suffered it Himself in all its brutality and strength, and then rose triumphant over it. That violence and death not have the last word - He would. That once His lifeless body was taken down from the cross and sealed in the tomb and His opponents said: Thank God we don’t have to hear Him anymore . . . we did hear Him! His voice of peace, not violence. His voice of forgiveness, not condemnation. His voice of hope, not fear. His voice of life, not death. 

That was the voice Luther heard loud and clear from the Scriptures. Every page! That yes, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God - that was loud and clear everywhere he looked, especially his own heart, so filled with sin. But that was not the last word! Yes, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Through the redemption. That is, through the payment. That is, through the death and resurrection. That in Christ Jesus, triumphant over sin, death, and the devil, there is life again.

The key is to be in Christ Jesus. The key is not in what you do, how many good works, how many prayers, how faithful - for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. No hope there! But in Christ Jesus, you have a refuge. You have a fortress - A Mighty Fortress! - protecting you from sin, death, and the devil. So that though we live in a world of violence, a world where satan is raging against Christ, His Church, and His Christians, and a world up to its neck in sin and rebellion against God and His Word, a flood of sin getting deeper every day . . . 

we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

Because

The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

The Lord of hosts is with us in the flesh and blood of Jesus. Flesh and blood that was not once here but now gone, but is still with us. For it is the flesh and blood not just of a man, but of God. The God who fills all time and space. The God who fills every font, pulpit, and altar with His forgiveness and life. The God who doesn’t say from afar: I hope you make it through the violence! but: I am here to take you through the violence. To take you through it safely. Be still, and know that I am God.

Once Luther heard that voice, that truth, that calmed his troubled mind and gave peace to his troubled heart, that voice became his voice, that truth, his truth. And nothing the Pope, the Emperor, or any opponent could threaten could trump that. 

And take they our life, goods, fame, child, and wife, 

though these all be gone, our victory has been won;

The Kingdom ours remaineth (LSB #656 v. 4).

That is the truth that also steeled young Hendrik Voes and Jan van Essen when they were not just threatened with violence, but when the fire was lit that would consume them. In Christ Jesus, they were confident. In Christ Jesus, they were safe. In Christ Jesus, they had a life that no one could take away.

And that is the life you have. The life you have been baptized into. The life that is proclaimed to you here, to enter your ears and then your heart. The life in the Body and Blood of your crucified, risen, ascended, and still with you Saviour, which you eat and drink. And satan says: This? You think this - this water, these empty words, this tiny piece and bread and sip of wine - is going to protect you from me and my hoards, my violence and threats, my sin and destruction? . . . Yup. . . . What’s wrong with you? You’re insane! You’re on the wrong side of history, you can’t win. . . . Well, satan, actually, we already have! Jesus’ tomb is empty. You’re the loser! And nothing you do to me can change that. 

We all believe in one true God . . .

We all believe in Jesus Christ . . .

We all confess the Holy Ghost . . . (LSB #953)

You can’t have us. We belong to Him.

That kind of confidence, that kind of faith, that kind of hope, may seem far above what you are able - and you’re right! They are! Only the Holy Spirit can work that in you and give that to you, and He does, and has. And so like Hendrik Voes and Jan van Essen, you are different. For you are in Christ Jesus. When the world plays the flute, you do not dance, and when the world sings a dirge, you do not mourn. Because you are different. You march to the best of a different drummer! You’re joy and hope, your confidence and faith, and not here in the things of this world and life - but in Christ Jesus. And in Christ Jesus, in good times or bad times, in violence or peace, you are safe, secure, and loved. You are forgiven and saved. You have hope and a future. Whether you have a death sentence hanging over your head like Luther, flames at your feet like Hendrick and Jan, or any others threats or violence. 

500 years ago, two young men who no one had ever heard of before, confessed that faith with their lives in Brussels. Maybe you will, too. Maybe unlike Luther, you will be found worthy to give your life for this truth. But whether you die a martyr or not, by violence or at peace, you will awaken to life in your Saviour. You will awaken to life with Martin, Hendrick, and Jan. You will awaken to a life that will not and cannot end. In Christ Jesus. Justified by His deeds.

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

Sermon for the Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost

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Jesu Juva

“A Tale of Two Kingdoms”

Text: Matthew 22:15-22

 

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

Do not be deceived! What you heard today is not about coins, but about kingdoms. It is not about taxes, but about truth. It is not a real question, it is a trap. They are trying to bait Jesus into saying something they can then use against Him. The Pharisees didn’t even go themselves. They cloak their malice by sending their disciples. They’re just students, Jesus! They just want to learn, Jesus! Teach them, Jesus! ‘Cuz you’re a good guy. You always want to help people. You’re not swayed by what other people think of you. We admire that. We do. So help these poor, ignorant students out. Just tell them: Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?

Do not be deceived. This is not about coins, but about kingdoms. And the Pharisees are thinking about and looking for the wrong kingdom. 

It’s like this: You know how when you’re looking for something, you have a picture of what you’re looking for in your mind. But if that picture is wrong, if that picture in your mind is incorrect, then you maybe did see what you were looking for - you just didn’t know it. Like in a store, when a company changes the packaging of that thing you buy all the time - you’re looking for what you remember it looked like, so you can’t find it anymore. Or sometimes this happens with people - they change how they look, their hair color, or they shave their beard, or they lose a lot of weight, and . . . is that . . . ?

So the Pharisees, and the other Jewish leaders as well, were looking for the wrong kingdom. They pictured and were thinking about the kingdom of Israel in a certain way - like it was in David and Solomon’s time: big, wealthy, powerful, secure, at peace, and glorious! And that, they thought, was the kingdom the Messiah would restore, for he would be, after all, like Solomon, the son of David. That’s was God’s promise - that one of David’s sons, one of his descendants, would sit on his throne forever. So that meant he would restore his father’s kingdom, right? So that’s what they were looking for. That’s what they expected their Messiah to do.

Well, they got it partially right. Jesus is, in fact, restoring His Father’s kingdom. But not the kingdom of His father David, but the kingdom of God the Father! A new Israel. But they weren’t looking for that . . .

You see, the Jewish leaders forgot (or didn’t want to remember) that the kingdom under David and Solomon was the exception, not the rule. For more often God’s people were not like it was in those days. They were small, oppressed, harassed . . . anything but glorious. And while being at peace sounds good . . . look at what happened to both David and Solomon with peace - they both fell into grievous sin. So that didn’t work out too good . . .

But that’s what they had in mind, so when Jesus comes along and He’s not doing that . . . 

And worse, He seems to working against it. Against them. As we’ve been hearing the past few weeks, He’s telling parables against them when they (they thought) should have been the heroes of these parables! The Parables of the Two Sons, the Laborers in the Vineyard, and the Wedding Feast. This isn’t right! Jesus is tearing down what they’re trying to build up. So instead of repenting, instead of changing their minds, their thinking, and their actions, they need to get rid of Him. 

So, Jesus, what do you think: Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?

Now in the Pharisees’ world, according to their thinking of the kingdom, there are only two answers to give to that question, and neither of them good! Say NO and upset Caesar, or say YES and upset the people following you. Either way, the Pharisees win.

Wrong kingdom. That’s why Jesus, instead of giving them one of the only two answers they thought were possible, gives them instead another. And very gently, really, points them to another kingdom. A far greater kingdom than what they have in mind. Far greater than even the way it was under David and Solomon. Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s. And they marveled. They marveled, but they wouldn’t give up! In fact, right after this the Sadducees take their shot. But looking for the wrong kingdom, they couldn’t see the kingdom of God that was coming to them and was, in fact, right in front of them, in Jesus.

But there are others who did see it. Those who weren’t looking for the wrong kingdom, the wrong packaging, a kingdom that used to be much larger. The blind who regained their sight, they saw it. The deaf who regained their hearing, they heard it. Those who were set free from demons, they lived in it. Those who were forgiven their sins were welcomed into it. The prostitutes and sinners, the diseased and outcast and less-than-perfect - they all saw it. The God who had come to them in human flesh. The God who was setting things right again. The God who wasn’t rebuilding an earthly kingdom, but growing a heavenly one. So they cried out: Jesus, Son of David! Jesus, promised Messiah! have mercy on us. And this King, who charges no taxes but freely gives, had mercy on them. And in so doing, rendered to God the things that are God’s. For these people, made in the image and likeness of God, belonged to Him. Satan tried to claim them, sin tried to ruin them, but Jesus saw through that and reclaimed them and set them free. Free in the kingdom of His Father.

And Jesus has done the same for you. He set you free and made you His own in the waters of Baptism. He has taken you from the kingdom of satan, of sin and death, and put you in the kingdom of His Father, the new Israel. With His cleansing forgiveness He is restoring you to the image and likeness in which you were created and how you were always meant to be. Do you see it? Do you realize it? Or are you looking for the wrong kingdom?

That happens, doesn’t it? Maybe you remember life in the good ol’ days, and want them back. Maybe you look around at things in the world and think: I want that, or, I want to be like that. Or maybe you have a picture in your mind of how life should be as a Christian - and, well, your life isn’t living up to that. I want fewer problems. I want to be more successful. I want less stress, fewer worries, an easier go of it. Why isn’t God answering my prayers? Why isn’t God taking care of me? Why aren’t churches more full? Why is the world so immoral? Where is the kingdom of God? 

But maybe that’s the wrong packaging. Maybe that’s not what the kingdom of God looks like at all, and so we miss it. Or we go where we think it is, or where we want it to be, and how we want it to be, to those things we want, and . . . like David and Solomon, fall into sin. . . . Think we ever do that? Think you ever do that? 

So we prayed in the Collect of the Day earlier that we may so pass through things temporal (that is, earthly) that we lose not the things eternal. And so we come here every week, through the earthly, through one kingdom, to another. To once again hear and see the eternal. The eternal Son of God, the Son of David, come here for us. To mercy us. To see and hear the kingdom of God, and be reminded that it doesn’t look how the world - and sometimes our own hearts - wants it to look or thinks that it looks, but that it looks like THIS: a crucified man. Pontius Pilate didn’t know how right he was when he brought Jesus out and said: Behold, your king! (John 19:14) Or when he wrote the charge against Jesus that was put over Him on the cross: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews (John 19:19).

That’s why we put this crucifix here, right next to the pulpit, to see every week. Here is your King, on His throne, for you. Here is a King that doesn’t demand from you, but gives to you. Who gave His life for you. Who took all your filth and sin and uncleanness, all the thoughts, words, deeds, and desires that you are ashamed of, and told His Father, make them mine. And all His righteousness, perfection, and forgiveness - give it to them. That they may be yours, and live under you in your kingdom (Small Catechism, Second Article). A kingdom not like anything in this world, but far greater, far better. And one that is not passing away, but is eternal. For you, Jesus says. For you, your King says. And AMEN! So be it, we say. We say when we hear those baptismal words in the invocation. AMEN! We say when we heard the words of absolution. AMEN! We say when the Body and Blood of Jesus are placed into our mouths. AMEN! We say when Jesus sends us back out into the world and into our vocations to live in the image and likeness in which we were made and now restored. AMEN! So be it. May I render to God the things that are God’s. My heart, my mind, my life, and not give them to another.

And seeing and hearing that kingdom, that life, having a King such a that . . . that changes everything. What you hear in the world doesn’t sound so good anymore. What you see in the world doesn’t look so desirable anymore. And your crucified King looks more glorious than ever. 

Do not be deceived. Your kingdom is not of this world. So if you’re struggling, if you’re dissatisfied, if you think things aren’t working out as you want - good! Fix your eyes instead on Jesus and His kingdom, and marvel. Marvel at your King and His words. Marvel at His cross and His love. Marvel at His promises and the cross He hung on to fulfill them. Marvel, at your King, who would do this for you.

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

Sermon for the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

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Jesu Juva

“Royal Robes, Royal Joy”

Text: Philippians 4:4-13; Matthew 22:1-14; Isaiah 25:6-9

 

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

Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 

Thus said the apostle Paul in the Epistle we heard today. Which are words I need to hear. Words of admonition, of encouragement, I need. Because while I don’t know about you, my mind doesn’t seem to work that way. 

Instead of anything worthy of praise, my mind instead tends to dwell on things criticized - how others have criticized me, or how I criticize others.

Instead of lovely, my mind is often filled with how I have been unlovely. Those times when my ugly, selfish, sinful side has come out, and I’ve done things I now wish I hadn’t, or said things I wish I could take back. 

Instead of honorable, my mind keeps remembering those things I regret, and how I wish I could go back and do those things again. Better. More helpful. More loving.

Instead of pure, my mind thinks impure thoughts. Instead of just, jealousy. Instead of virtue, vice. And I could go on, but you get the point. 

Now, I don’t want my mind to be that way! I want to remember and think about the good and forget the bad. But that doesn’t seem to be the way it is. Maybe for you, too. And I don’t just mean things from the past year or so, but my mind dredges up things from many years ago, all the way back to when I was a teenager, and maybe younger. Why do I remember those things? Why does it seem so easy to remember the bad and so hard to think about the true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy? I wish forgiveness meant not just that my sins were wiped out before God, but that they are wiped out from my own memory as well! 

But maybe it’s good they’re not. To keep humbling me. To keep me repenting. To keep me from being like the man in the parable we heard from Jesus today, who thought he could attend the wedding feast without the proper clothes. Who thought he had arrived! That he was good enough the way he was. He wasn’t, and what he got for that belief was being bound hand and foot and cast into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 

But God doesn’t want that. For anyone. How do we know? Well, from the king in the parable. The king was filled with joy at the marriage of his son. So he held a feast. And no ordinary feast, this. This was a royal feast. A feast, as they say, fit for a king! There would be only the best of the best, and that in abundance. It would be the talk of the town. And as we heard from Isaiah, this is the kind of feast the Lord is preparing for us. A celebration with joy unimaginable.

Except some did not want to come. Either because they didn’t like the king and didn’t want to be with him, or thought they had better things to do, more important things to do. They couldn’t take time out of their busy schedules to celebrate with the king. This doesn’t make the king happy, but his joy is so great that he cannot not celebrate! So he invites more people, from everywhere. Both good people and bad people - it doesn’t matter who they are. The king wants them at his feast. They don’t have to be good enough. They don’t have to have the right credentials or clothes. Just come. The king will take care of the rest.

And he does. But then another twist . . . that one man who was there with no wedding garment. It wasn’t because he was too poor or just couldn’t get one. The king provided them. But he wouldn’t wear it. He rejected the king’s generosity. He would come and be there on his own terms, wearing his own clothes, not the king’s. But that’s not the way it works . . . You must have the king’s wedding garments for the king’s wedding feast.

This is what the kingdom of heaven is like, Jesus says. The kingdom of heaven which is the marriage feast of Christ and His Bride, the Church. Or as we say in the liturgy, as you will hear again in a bit, the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, which has no end. And you are invited! All people are invited. Our heavenly Father, the King of the universe, wants to share His joy with all people. And it is a feast and joy that starts now, and that will never end.

But sadly, some people don’t come. They don’t like God and His Word, they think they have better things to do, more important things to do. They look for joy in other things and places and people. Which is sad. It’s not what God wants. God wants all people to be saved, all people to come to the feast! And His invitation is still going out, to people everywhere, good and bad. It doesn’t matter who you are. The King wants you at His feast.

There is only this one stipulation: you must have the King’s wedding garment. 

Now, in our day and age, many people might hear or read this and think: What’s the big deal? What difference does that make? It’s just clothing. Because our attitudes toward clothing have changed. Casual Fridays at work have become casual everydays, as is what most people wear on airplanes, to restaurants, to church, and other places people used to dress up for. And this even before the pandemic, when people started working from home in their pajamas. Comfort is the name of the game now. So this fuss about clothing? It must be just another case of a stuffy, old fashioned, doesn’t-get-us, God.

But it’s just the opposite, actually. God does get us. He knows us, in fact, better than we know ourselves. My mind might keep remembering all my sins and shortcomings and things I don’t want to remember and wish I could forget, but God knows all that and more! He knows all the sins I do forget! And all the sin I’ve done that I didn’t even know or realize was sin, or that I’ve done so much I don’t even think of it as sin anymore. That’s the problem. That’s who I am. And so based on who I am, I cannot be at the wedding feast. I cannot be in the presence of God, the King. I am unworthy. 

But still God wants me there, and so God clothes me. We sang of this in the Introit this morning: he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness. And that righteousness you and I are now clothed with is the righteousness of Jesus. So that when our heavenly Father looks at us, He doesn’t see the ugly, twisted, selfish, covered-with-filth sinner that I remember and can’t seem to forget. No, when our Heavenly Father looks at us, He sees Jesus. He sees His righteousness. For Jesus has clothed me and covered me with Himself. So I can have a place at the feast. Without that? Without Jesus? Bind [me] hand and foot and cast [me] into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. And that is, as we know from other places in the Scriptures, a description of hell. That’s where I’m going, on my own. Without Jesus. Without being clothed by Him, or in Him. But with Him is joy, and the feast unimaginable. A feast not just fit for a king, but fit for God! A feast without end.

And that feast and those clothes Jesus provided for us when He Himself was stripped of His clothes and He was bound hand and foot with nails and when He was cast out into the darkness and forsakenness of the cross. That place we deserve, He took. So that place He had, we could have. He taking our unrighteousness and giving us His righteousness. He the Bridegroom who laid down His life for His Bride, for His Church, for us, for all people, that we be His and live in His kingdom of peace and joy, now and forever. For He didn’t just lay down His life for us, He took it up again, He rose from the dead, that we be not widows, but joyful, dearly loved Brides. Loved beyond what we deserve or could ever imagine.

So still the invitation is going out to all the world - come to the feast! But it is not come as you are. It is come as He is. Come in Jesus. Clothed in Him and His righteousness. Come to the waters of baptism and be washed and clothed. Come to the words of the Gospel and the Absolution, and be clothed with His forgiveness. Come to the Supper to feast on the Body and Blood of Jesus and be clothed with His righteousness. There are wedding garments enough for all. They are yours, by grace through faith.

And thank God they are! That God doesn’t look at all the stuff my mind remembers, but sees you and me in Jesus. And that all the stuff I remember and all the sins I keep adding to them that keeps me coming back to Jesus, to receive from Him the forgiveness and righteousness I need. That I know that on my own, I have no place at the heavenly banquet. But with Jesus, in Jesus, clothed with Jesus, I have a place. 

So when Paul said to think about all those things that are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy? And as I said, my mind keeps remembering all the stuff that is not? When we come here, we do. For when we come here, we think of Jesus. And Jesus is all those things Paul said. I am not! But He is. He is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy. With that list Paul is directing outside of ourselves, to think of Jesus. And then by grace through faith in Him, that is what you and I are, too. What we could never be on our own, we are, in Jesus.

And then we can do that other thing Paul said as well: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. And rejoice we do, here, in His gifts. And rejoice we will, when we finally arrive at the heavenly feast, in the joy of the Lord, forever. When finally, my mind will think of nothing else. Just the joy of a wedding day. The joy of Bridegroom and Bride. So come and be fed. Come be forgiven and clothed. Come and rejoice!

With the joy of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.