Sermon for Advent 4 Midweek Evening Prayer

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Jesu Juva

“The Blessing of Having the Way of Peace”

Text: Isaiah 40:1-5; John 20:24-29; Luke 1:57-79

 

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Guide our feet into the way of peace. 

Say that to any Israelite and they would think of God guiding the feet of Abram from Ur of the Chaldeans to the land which God promised to give his descendants. Or they would think of God guiding the feet of Jacob to his Uncle Laban’s house when he was fleeing his brother Esau after fleecing his brother Esau. Or perhaps most of all, they would think of God guiding the feet of Israel out of Egypt, through the Red Sea and through the wilderness with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night until they got to the Promised Land. God was always guiding the feet of His people.

People are looking for this today as well. Show me which way to go, God! Guide my feet to the right spouse, the right job, the right home. 

The thing is, while all of those things may be good, none of those ways is the way of peace. 

But Zechariah’s son, John, was all about the way of peace. Because of his preaching, people from all over went out into the wilderness - not a place you normally associate with peace! But there was. Peace, there. Peace in the wilderness. Because John was calling the people to a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. For that is truly the way of peace: repentance and forgiveness. 

Isaiah, as we heard tonight, said that part of John’s message would be that our warfare is ended. But what warfare is he talking about? We could do like the Pharisees, who claimed they had never been slaves of anyone, so how could Jesus set them free (John 8:33)? and say, we’ve never been at war with anyone, so how can it be ended? But just as the Pharisees were, in fact, slaves, slaves of sin, so have we been at war - war with God. Our ways warring against His ways, our thoughts with His thoughts, our desires with His desires, our lives with the lives He has for us. From the beginning, our sin has set us against God. 

So one of the things John would do is preach repentance, that is, enable us to see our sin rightly. For Isaiah also said that the forerunner would lift up the valleys and make low the mountains; he would make level and plain the rough places and uneven ground. And in our lives, that means that instead of making our mountain of sin into a mole hill, like it really isn’t that bad, instead of belittling our sin, we repent. That instead of making the mole hills of sins committed against us into mountains, instead of magnifying the sin of others, we forgive. Instead of tripping each other up, we help each other up. Instead of throwing each other down, we lift each other up. That in this world of trouble and strife, in this world of me-against-you and against God, there be a way of peace. A way of life. A way of forgiveness.

For without forgiveness, there really is no peace. Whatever peace we have is quickly disturbed with our regrets, with past mistakes haunting us, past social media posts like skeletons in our closets, with questions of what if? And if you’ve been there, you know how difficult and enduring those things can be. And how peace shattering.

So the one whose way John is preparing has come to give us the peace we cannot get or achieve ourselves. The peace that doesn’t come from us, it must come to us. So John prepares the way. The way of peace. He calls us to acknowledge and repent of our sin, and then hear that healing, war-ending word: I forgive you all your sins. And at peace with God, knowing that God does not hold our sin against us, that our past regrets and failures are atoned for, we can live at peace with each other. And that is a great gift, to have such peace.

Many people do not consider repentance a gift. It is, rather, an obligation, a burden they must endure. And if repentance was about what we must do to atone for our own sins, then perhaps that is the right way to look at it. But it is not that at all. Repentance, rather, is about acknowledging that we cannot atone for our sins, and turning to the one who can. And did. And receiving His atonement, His forgiveness, His peace. The very gifts He wants to give us. And considered that way, repentance really is a gift. The gift we need the most.

And so the way of peace starts at the manger, goes through the Jordan, ascends the cross, and then rises from the dead. That is the way of peace for us as we baptismally die and rise with Jesus to a new life. A life set free with His forgiveness.

That was the path of peace St. Thomas needed. Today, December 21, is his day of commemoration. And he did not have peace. For him, Jesus was dead and so was all hope, his hope. He was filled with fear and regrets and did not know what the future held. But then he heard those words from the lips of Jesus: peace be with you. And the once-dead-but-now-risen flesh of Jesus was his way of peace. The flesh that once lay in the manger, the flesh that once ate and drank with him, the flesh that hung on the cross - he now put his fingers and hands on that flesh and into that flesh, and his warfare was ended, his turmoil calmed. He had peace. The peace that only Jesus can bring. 

And that is our peace. We do not have the hands and side of the risen Jesus to put our fingers and hands into, but we do have the Body and Blood of the risen Jesus to eat and to drink. And as we do, our warfare is ended, our troubled consciences calmed, our sins forgiven. Your past can no longer haunt you when Jesus has taken that past, atoned for it, and left it buried and dead in the grave. All there’s left is peace.

And people are looking for this today. It’s a common wish this time of the year, heard in many songs and read in many cards: peace on earth! John points us to Jesus and says: there is your peace. That is the way. Be joined to Him. Die and rise to a new life with Him. Repent and be forgiven by Him. And this is the what all the other work of our Lord is all about, that we have been considering this Advent season - why we have been visited, why we have been mercied, why we have been enlightened: that we know and have the way of peace. That we know and have Jesus. These four weeks of Advent, of meditation on the Word of God and of prayer, have led us to this: to see in the manger far more than a baby, but a Saviour. To know there is peace on earth because that peace is lying in the manger. That we see the flesh and blood of Jesus in the manger and say: my Lord and my God! MY Lord and MY God. For this Great and Mighty Wonder (LSB #383) is born for you and me. To be our peace. That we might have a not only a Merry Christmas, but a blessed one, too.

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

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Advent

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Jesu Juva

“Yes, Really! Immanuel: God with us”

Text: Matthew 1:18-25; Isaiah 7:10-17

 

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

I mean, would you have believed it? Immanuel. God with us. Really? That’s what they will call this child? That must have seemed like a cruel joke to Joseph. Because God certainly wasn’t with him! His betrothed was with child. Everyone knows there’s only one way for that to happen. He betrothed her and she betrayed him. Joseph wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to make a public example of what happens to such loose women, such adultresses. Oh, not that he didn’t think about it! The sweet taste of revenge. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. But at the same time he wasn’t going to take this slap in the face and pretend like nothing happened. He would divorce her quietly. If this is what she wanted, this is what she would get. And Joseph would move on. 

God with us. Yeah, right. With someone, somewhere, maybe. Whose life was going better than Joseph’s! Who was getting good things, and had joy in their life. But not with him. What had he done wrong? What had he done to deserve this? We wonder that, right? So Joseph probably did, too. He probably replayed that video over and over in his mind, trying to figure it out. Maybe it was this, maybe that. Maybe when he overcharged that person who could obviously afford it. Maybe when he hadn’t done his best carpenter work but passed it off like he had. Maybe it was when he lost his temper, or skipped synagogue because he was just too busy, too tired, his life too filled with concerns and worries. Maybe it was his falling short in his alms and tithing. What was it? What was it that had made God turn against him like this?

God with us. I wish, Joseph perhaps thought. So He could straighten this all out. Make it right. Undo this mess. Turn back the clock and change what had happened. Change what Mary did. Change what he had done. Work it out. 

That’s what God is for, after all, isn’t it? 

But his dream . . . it haunted him. Surely it was only a dream, wasn’t it? His own wishful thinking creeping into his brain and conjuring up this episode. An angel. That the child Mary was carrying was not the fruit of unfaithfulness but of God’s faithfulness. And that this child was being born to be the Saviour; the one who would save His people from their sins. It was wishful thinking, it must have been! For if God was going to do such a thing, why choose Mary? Mary! There were a hundred, a thousand other women God could have chosen - higher, more able, more worthy. Mary. His Mary. It was wishful thinking. You couldn’t even make up a story like that and sell it - it wouldn’t sell! It was too preposterous. Mary pregnant with God’s child. If only . . .

And yet . . . there was that passage from Isaiah . . . he’d heard it read in the synagogue just that week. That must have been where that word Immanuel had gotten stuck in his brain and come out in his dream. 700 years ago Isaiah had said that, told King Ahaz about the Lord’s deliverance, what the Lord was going to do. King Ahaz was like him. He didn’t think that God was with him. Because the king of Israel, the northern kingdom, and the king of Syria had made an alliance and were coming after him and his kingdom, Judah. God had made big promises, but where was He now? Now that Ahaz needed Him! 

So Isaiah told him that God was with him. He was. A child would be born and not too long after that, those two kings and their kingdoms and their armies and their might? It would all be gone. God was bringing in the King of Assyria to discipline them and save Judah. And it happened. King Ahaz was wrong . . . what he thought . . . what seemed to him . . . God was with him after all.

So could God be with him, Joseph, too? He was no king and had no kingdom. He wasn’t anyone important. So, nah. Why would God bother with him? Yet . . . that’s how God often worked. He chose people others wouldn’t. Unlikely people. Jacob was no prize, yet he got a nation named after him, after God changed his name to Israel. David was the youngest and most un-king-like son of Jesse, yet God chose him. Amos was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore fig trees (Amos 7:14), and God used him as a prophet. But him and Mary - ah, that’s different. It was just too much to believe.

But he also couldn’t believe that Mary would do that to him. That wasn’t like her. That wasn’t the Mary he knew and loved. Oh, he was so confused! God with us. God with HIM! That’s what he needed!

But what if it was true? What if it wasn’t just a dream, but more than a dream? What if just like at the time of Ahaz, God was now coming, coming to His people, to deliver them. King Ahaz then was worried about Israel and Syria; now the people were more and more upset with Rome. But this was different that that. Then the child was a sign. His dream had said that this child was going to do it! And that He would save his people from their sins. That’s what Joseph was worried about; why he thought God was NOT with him. His sins. That he had done something wrong to deserve this. That God was punishing him. Could this really be not punishment but deliverance? Deliverance for Joseph? A blessing for Joseph??

He knew that was possible, too. All those stories in the Old Testament, when it seemed hopeless for God’s people, and yet it wasn’t. God remained faithful to His words and promises and had delivered them. Things that seemed bad turned out good. And when everything was going good, that’s when bad things often happened! God with us wasn’t always the way people thought it would be like. In fact, it rarely was. It wasn’t all luxury and ease and comfort, peace, and joy. Sometimes it was God’s people under assault, yet God with them, sustaining them and providing for them.

Well, Joseph felt under assault! So God with us, God with him . . . maybe it was after all. To be honest, he was still a bit doubtful and fearful of what he was going to do and what this meant for him, but isn’t that what faith is all about? Not knowing, but trusting. Not a lack of fear, but confidence in the face of fear? That God is with us. Even when it might not seem like it. Even when it doesn’t look like it. But if God’s Word says it, then it is so.

Joseph felt a little better. Because he wasn’t relying on his own thinking, he wasn’t taking matters into his own hands. This seemed better, right. Merciful. Like God. So he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him. He did not divorce Mary. He took her in. He wed her. He cared for her. And her child. This child that wasn’t his, but was his. This child that wasn’t from him, but for him. This child that . . . he found himself saying - and believing! - was God with us. 

And with you. All of you. Maybe it doesn’t seem so. Some people get spiritual highs and yes! God is with me! But then come the valleys, the lows, the ditches, and . . . what happened? For others, the ditches are the norm that they just can’t seem to climb out of. But for others - and I think this might be the majority of people - there’s not much of either. Not super highs or super lows, just ordinary. We go to church, we pray, but nothing seems to change very much. We see people suffer we think shouldn’t. We see people succeed we think don’t deserve it. We pray and wonder if God hears. God with us? We’d like to believe it . . .

And then there are our sins, too. Which you’re right - should make God reject you and be against you. When you’re less than honest, less than helpful, less than faithful, less than loving. All those things satan likes to remind us of, and run the video over and over in our minds to convince us that yup! You’re on your own, baby!

To which God says: No! No you’re not. Just as He sent His Word to Joseph through the angel, so He sends His Word to us today through different messengers, but the same Word. The Word of a Saviour. The Word that God is, in fact, with you. Yes, sinful you, unworthy you. Not because of you, but because of Him. Because He promised. And He keeps each and every promise. So yes, the virgin did conceive a bear a son, the Son of God. And yes, He went to the cross as the perfect Lamb of God bearing the sin of the world - which means your sin, too. And yes He died and rose from the dead to rescue you from those two great fortresses - sin and death - which try to keep you away from God and His life. They cannot. Because of Him. Because God came to be with us, fight for us, and win.

And then sent His Word to you in the water of baptism - that another child be miraculously born a child of God. You! You not born sinless like Jesus, but born again with the forgiveness of your sins. And that Word is sent to you in the absolution, in the Gospel, and in the bread and wine, because God doesn’t want to be your Immanuel, your God with us, only once, or here or there, but always. And so He is. Even if it doesn’t always seem like it. Faith says yes. Even faith that is still a little bit doubtful and fearful of what this means for you.

It didn’t mean an easy life for Joseph. This blessing would be work! Taking him to Bethlehem, then to Egypt, then back to Nazareth. And I’m sure a whole lot more than we’re not told. And I’m sure Joseph had more moments after this, when he wondered, when he doubted, when he feared. If it was up to him, I’m sure he would had fallen and failed. But on the foundation of the Word of God, God with him sustained him. 

And you, too. That’s our hope. That Christmas isn’t just one day of joy, but the day that shows us God with us, so that we’ll be with Him, forever. 

God with us. Some will mock that, mock us. Point to all kinds of things to prove that He’s not. That you can’t really believe that, can you? Do you? Well, yes, we do. Because a full manger and an empty tomb proclaims it so. That God is with sinners, to raise sinners, to give those dead in their trespasses and sins life in the forgiveness of their sins. For God is here. God with us. It’s true. For Joseph. And for you.

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

“The Blessing of Being Enlightened”

Text: Genesis 18:16-33; Luke 1:57-79

 

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

A big part of Christmas are the lights. The lights everywhere. On houses, on trees, colored lights, white lights, in our houses, as candles on our tables. At this time of year it is the house that is NOT lit up that is the exception. It is part of what makes this time of year special and brings joy to many people, especially as next week comes the day with the shortest amount of daylight in the year.

This is a theme that fits well with not just the world’s view of Christmas, but also with the Scriptures. We heard from Zechariah’s Benedictus tonight of light, that because of the tender mercy of our God . . . the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. But it’s more than that. We hear every Christmas Eve that the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone (Isaiah 9:2). Jesus calls Himself the light of the world (John 8:12; 9:5). And that at the consummation of the ages, there will be no more darkness, for the glory of the Lord will be our light (Revelation 21:23, 25; 22:5).

And that’s all good. For the darkness is the time of sin and evil. Darkness is the time of drunkenness and debauchery. Darkness is the time of fear and when imaginations run wild. You cannot see what is hiding in the dark. Jesus dies in the dark when the sun stops shining (Matthew 27:45), or as the early fathers of the church would put it, when the sun was ashamed to gaze upon its creator, though evil men were not. So to have light in the darkness is a good thing for us.

But that’s not the darkness that Zechariah was talking about here. He had in mind a much worse darkness than all of that. Not a darkness outside of us, but a darkness inside of us. When, as we say, someone is kept in the dark. They are left unknowing. They are left in ignorance. They do not have knowledge. They are on the outside looking in.

That is the darkness Adam and Eve found themselves in after they sinned. The sun was still shining, but they were in the dark about how God now looked at them, regarded them, what was going to happen to them, and what God was going to do. And so they were filled with fear. But God did not leave them there. He enlightened them with His Word and told them not just what would be the consequences of their sin, but also what He was going to do about it: send a Saviour. And there was light in the darkness. Hope. 

We heard tonight of how God enlightened Abraham, that He was not willing to keep Abraham in the dark about what He was going to do Sodom and Gomorrah because of their sin, because He chose Abraham to become a great and mighty nation. So the Lord enlightened Abraham. But . . . not all the way? For while Abraham knew the Lord was just and right and light, it seems he did not know quite how much. Abraham starts at fifty and goes down to ten righteous people to save those cities, but stops there. 

But the truth that Zechariah confesses is that God spares not just a city or two, but the world, ALL people, of the destruction we deserve because of our sin, because of just ONE righteous person. The son promised to Adam and Eve. The son promised to Abraham. The Son of God who would come in human flesh to not only enlighten the darkness of this world and the darkness that lives in us, but to banish it entirely, once and for all. The sun shall visit us, he says. The sun shall rise on us in the darkness, and give us light. The light of the forgiveness of our sins, that we know we are not condemned, but absolved. The light of life, that we know death is not the end for us, and we need not fear the grave, for we shall rise with Jesus to a new and eternal life. The light of victory over all the forces of evil and the evil one, whose lies and deceit are exposed by the Word of God, that we know the truth that sets us free.

That is the light that shines from the manger, revealed to us at Christmas. It is the light that shines from the cross, scattering the darkness of Good Friday. It is the light that shines from the empty tomb, showing us that the bonds of the grave have been broken. It is the light that shines here from the Word and Sacraments, as our Lord enlightens us, makes us His children, and keeps us in His grace and care. That we not be in the dark. That we know. That we know beyond a shadow of a doubt of His love and all that He has done for us, and all that He has promised to continue to do for us. It is why the ancients called baptism illumination. Enlightening.

And so on the night when He was betrayed, Jesus told His disciples: No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you (John 15:15). The baptism of John was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins (Luke 3:3). Here, Jesus, in a sense, baptizes His disciples with His Word of illumination. And on Pentecost, they will be baptized with the Holy Spirit. But for you and me, we get all these together - water, Word, and Spirit, forgiveness, illumination, and Spirit,  all at once at the font. And we who were in the dark are no longer. We who were once enemies of God are His children and friends. We who were dead in our trespasses and sins and raised to new life. For as we’ve been singing this season, Jesus Christ is the Light of the world, the light no darkness can overcome. Let Your light scatter the darkness and illumine Your Church (Liturgy of Evening Prayer, Opening Versicles).

So the lights we see everywhere this season, that scatter the darkness of our communities and homes, while they give us joy and delight, are confessing to us an even greater joy that is ours, and that will not be taken down and boxed up on a cold January day - the joy of no created light, but of the uncreated light, the Son who has come to us and risen upon us. 

And our prayer this season is that His light shine on - and in - each and every person, that all know the Son and live in Him, and join us in that day that will have no end.

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

“The Way of Joy”

Text: Matthew 11:2-15; Isaiah 35:1-10

 

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

Why are they there? The disciples of John, I mean. Why aren’t they with Jesus? Why aren’t they following Jesus? They’re not with John as his friends; that I could understand. They’re still his disciples, we were told today.

John knows that’s not right, so he sends them to Jesus. With a question. A question to ask that Jesus might help them and teach them. John had already pointed to Jesus and said: Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29)! He had already said that Jesus must increase and he must decrease (John 3:30). John had already confessed that he was not even worthy to loose the strap of Jesus’ sandal (John 1:27). But maybe that’s why. Jesus didn’t look the part. You sure you got the right guy, John? The carpenter’s son? From Nazareth? His sandals? You sure?

So John sends them to Jesus. Maybe John knew his time was short. That Herod, who had imprisoned him, soon had to fish or cut bait. And releasing him was unlikely. So his disciples needed to go. As much as John must have appreciated having them around, this was more important. They needed to leave him and go to Jesus.

So Johns sends them to Jesus. And he tells them to ask: Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?

Jesus could have just said yes. But words weren’t enough. Jesus’ lowly appearance made the words hard to believe. So Jesus gives them more. He points to the Word of God in the Old Testament, in the prophet Isaiah. This is what would happen when God comes to save. And this is what is happening now. But not just these things. Even more. Jesus goes beyond what Isaiah said. For in addition to the eyes of the blind being opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped, more than the lame man leaping like a deer and the tongue of the mute singing for joy, He says this too: the dead are being raised up and the poor have the good news preached to them. Go and tell John.

So that when they did, tell John, John could say to them: then why are you still here? Go! GO! Follow Him! You need to be His disciples. Not mine. My time is up.

What Jesus added there is important. That the dead are raised up could be a reference to when Jesus raised back to life the son of the widow of Nain (Luke 7:11-17) - which Luke records right before this episode of John in prison! Or it could mean those who are dead in their trespasses and sins, which would go along with what He says next, the poor having the good news preached to them. I think we usually think of the first because it’s a miracle like the rest. But maybe it is the last, the preaching, that is the greatest for Jesus. The proclamation, the good news that He is the dead one who will be raised. And because He is, so will we, the poor and lowly, He wants us to know. We won’t all be healed, but we will all be raised. And even those healed now will have to face death later. So that’s the real foe here. The Messiah is here to deliver us from death and hell. The healings, the miracles, are the little signs of the greater work. 

And I think that’s where we sometimes get confused, like John’s disciples. We think the little signs are the greater work, and the greater work, the preaching . . . well, not so much. 

Or maybe our problem is that we don’t see ourselves as poor. And certainly we aren’t when it comes to the things of the world - we are quite wealthy. Christmas has become a holiday of great wealth and spending. But how about spiritually? Do we see ourselves as poor? I don’t want to be poor! I want to have a faith that cannot be moved! I want to be strong and steadfast. I want to stand on my own two spiritual feet and not need rely on God so much. Isn’t that what growing up is? And isn’t that what God wants? 

Well, no, in fact. That’s not what God wants at all. He doesn’t want you to think you need Him less and less and thereby grow away from Him. He wants you to realize that you actually need Him more and more and so grow more in Him. That you know it is better to be washed by Him than to wash yourself. It is better to be fed by Him than to feed yourself. It is better to be forgiven by Him than it is to forgive yourself. He wants His strength to be your strength, for His riches to be your riches. So you are and must be poor, or as Luther said it: We are beggars, this is true. And while poor is not good in the world, it is just right for Jesus.

So if that is true, where would you expect to find Jesus? In a palace or a hospital? In a five star restaurant or in a prison? He’s out with the blind, the lame, the deaf, the lepers, the sinners, the outcasts, the prostitutes, the tax collectors, the homeless, the people we avoid, the people we step over as we hurry on our way. That’s not where you’d expect someone whose sandal John, the great John, the no-one-greater-born-of-women John, to be! But that’s how God rolls. The Son of God had the palace, the five-star restaurant, and more, in heaven. And glory beyond that. He left that. To come down to you. 

So if you’re looking for Jesus, don’t look up - look down! That’s where He is and will be FOR YOU. Not far away in heaven, but here, washing you, feeding you, forgiving you. You who are poor. You who need all those things. And especially He came down that you would see Him from where all those things come - on the cross. Bloody Jesus. Dying Jesus. Whipped Jesus. Abused Jesus. Mocked Jesus. Rejected Jesus. Thrown out Jesus. That’s your Jesus. Great Jesus. The Jesus who didn’t say: clean yourself up, get better, and maybe I’ll let you into my heaven. But who came to die for the dead, the spiritually dead, to scoop us up from the grave to rise to life with Him. 

John knew that, so go! GO! He tells his disciples. Follow Him! That’s where you should be.

But there’s something else Jesus said, too . . . And blessed is the one who is not offended by me. Offended by the kind of Saviour He is. Offended by who He is hanging out with. Offended by how He sees us. 

But people are offended by Jesus. Then and now. They don’t like His teaching. They want what He says is wrong to be right. The want to believe there are other ways to heaven than Him. They don’t want to be saved by grace but by being good. They don’t want to be poor, humble, and underserving, but rich, proud, and admired! They don’t want to live by faith, what they cannot see, and so have to believe and trust, but to live by what they can see and feel. That way they are the arbiter of truth, not Jesus, and they can believe what they think, what they know, not what Jesus tells them. 

And this kind of thinking . . . it lives in us, too. It’s part of the sin we inherited. To put our thinking above God’s thinking, our word above His Word, our wants and desires over His, to make myself something, not nothing. But to be offended by Jesus and so to turn away from Him, His Word, and His truth, is to then also turn away from His blessing and lose it. 

So if John were here today, what would he need to clear out of the way for YOU to follow Christ? What false loves, what idols, what wrong thinking, what sins, what twisted desires? Where are you that he would say to you: why are you still here? Go! GO! 

But you don’t want to lose those, right? Those things John would clear away. But you must. You must be dead to be raised. You must be poor to have the good news preached to you. You must be empty to be filled. You must be sinner to be forgiven. 

So listen to John, and go! GO! Go to the font and remember you are a baptized child of God. Go to absolution and hear those words of forgiveness. Go to the Supper and eat and drink not earthly food, but heavenly. Go to the Word and hear all that your God has come down from heaven and done for you. And is still doing. These are His Christmas gifts to you. The gifts He came in flesh and blood to give. 

So go! GO! Here, but then out there. To the deaf, the blind, the sick, the lame, the sinners, the dead in their trespasses and sins. Not to those who can repay you, but to those who can’t. Help them, do good to them. For that’s what Jesus has come and done FOR YOU. That’s Jesus living in you.

A lot of people struggle at this time of year. It’s supposed to be a season of joy, but for all kinds of reasons, some people, maybe many people, aren’t very joyful. Maybe it’s because we’re looking for joy in the wrong place. I’m sure John wasn’t joyful in prison, but if his disciples left him and went to follow Jesus, that would be a source of joy to him. Which seems backward, and yet that’s the way of Jesus. So maybe the path to joy is to bring such joy to others. Not to seek it for ourselves, but for them. The author of Hebrews said this of Jesus, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross (Hebrews 12:2). The cross wasn’t joyful, but the joy it would bring us gave Jesus joy. Joy to go there and endure that. FOR YOU.

John wants that joy for his disciples, and that is his joy. And on this Sunday when we lit the rose-colored candle on the Advent wreath, this Sunday of joy, that is our joy as well. The joy of Jesus, His gifts, and His life. That life we now get to live. A life that because of Him will never end. And a joy that because of Him lasts more than a day or even twelve. So as we sang in the Introit: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Which, think of it this way, is not just an exhortation, but a promise. That not when you stay, but when you go! Go! you will rejoice. Not when you stay where you are, not when you stay in your sins, but when you go! Go! to Jesus, you will rejoice. For going to the one who came to us as a baby, and who comes to us now with and in His gifts, you will go to Him in the end, on that day He comes again for you. That day there will be only joy. That’s where you need to be. That’s where Jesus wants you to be - with Him, in His joy. To rejoice in Him, always.

So go! Go! To the one who advents, comes, for you.

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

“The Blessing of Being Mercied”

Text: Exodus 25:10-22; Luke 1:57-79

 

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people . . . to show the mercy promised to our fathers.

Mercy is certainly a frequent and important word, an important action and disposition in the Scriptures. God is described as merciful and gracious (Psalm 103:8). Christians are told to be merciful, even as our Father [in heaven] is merciful (Luke 6:36). During Jesus’ public ministry, people are crying out to Him constantly, Lord, have mercy (Matthew 20:30)! And mercy is a prominent word in the Benedictus, the words of Zechariah that we are considering this Advent season.

Mercy, though, comes in many shapes and sizes. It is a big word. Many different actions can be counted as mercy. Mercy has many different looks; it can be manifested in countless ways. People who have suffered the destruction of a natural disaster need mercy. Criminals are said to throw themselves on the mercy of the court. Mercy is something everyone needs at some point in their life. 

Zechariah received mercy. When he doubted the Word of God, the good news brought to him by the angel Gabriel that he and Elizabeth were going to have a child in their old age, God could have turned His back on Zechariah and chosen someone else from whom the forerunner of the Messiah would come. But He didn’t. He had mercy on Zechariah. He still used him and blessed him.

Zechariah mentions David in the Benedictus, a man who certainly and repeatedly received mercy, especially after his adulterous relationship with Bathsheba and murdering her husband to cover it up and get away with it. God could have rejected David, thrown him off the throne, and put his son there in his place, but He didn’t. He had mercy on David. He still used him and blessed him.

Zechariah also then mentions Abraham, who received the mercy of God when he was an idolator in Ur of the Chaldeans when God revealed himself to Abram there, promised him he would have a son, be the father of many nations, and that from his descendants would come the Messiah. And even when Abram took matters into his own hands and tried to fulfill the prophecy himself, having a son through his wife’s maidservant Hagar, God didn’t reject him. He had mercy on Abram, renewed His promise to him, renamed him Abraham, and blessed him.

In fact, if God was not a God merciful and gracious, if He did not have mercy and instead only gave out what was deserved, there would be no human race. Adam and Eve would have been exterminated, childless, and that would have been the end of that. Perhaps God would have started over, created a new man and woman, but who knows? Instead, God did what He does, God did what He is - He had mercy.

But Zechariah really isn’t talking about any of those mercies. For he said that God was now acting to perform THE mercy promised to our fathers. One particular kind of mercy that would far overshadow the rest; that really was the cause of all the rest. The mercy of sending His Son to be the promised Messiah. The mercy that would save us from our enemies. The mercy that would deliver us from the hand of all who hate us. The mercy that would be shown, that would be embodied, enfleshed, when God remembered his holy covenant, and acted to fulfill it. God was doing that now, Zechariah said. His mercy appearing in the flesh and blood of Jesus. Mercy unparalleled.

That holy covenant had been made concrete and visible before with God’s presence among His people in the Tabernacle and the Temple, and even more specifically, with the mercy seat - the cover that went on top of the Ark of the Covenant. It was the place where, so to speak, God sat, enthroned, to show mercy to His people. If you asked an Old Testament Hebrew or a first century Jew where God’s mercy was, the mercy seat would be high on the list of responses.

But as with all things having to do with the Tabernacle and Temple, the mercy seat was not the ultimate, but the penultimate. It was not the end-all, be-all, but the pointer, the representation, the shadow, of what was still to come. What God was planning to do to truly show all people just how great His mercy really is. And so with his words, Zechariah is testifying that there is a new place, a new dwelling, a new seat for God’s mercy. The Lord is coming in human flesh and blood. Because of the tender mercy of our God, he says. 

Tender mercy. The word translated as tender there is that word used for gut-wrenching compassion. Mercy isn’t always tender. Mercy can be severe, too. But God sent His Son because He couldn’t not. His love compelled Him. The sin that threw down His children, the sin that brought death upon them, the sin that divided the first man and wife, that induced the first murder, and that has been turning us against one another and against our Creator ever since, God couldn’t not act upon. So from the moment it came into the would, He promised to do so. A promise He would repeat to our fathers down through the ages, as Zechariah said. The mercy that would now be born, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger. The mercy that would after that be rejected, stripped of His clothes, and hung on a cross. And the mercy that though ascended, would remain, wrapped in water, words, and bread and wine, and given to us. To us who need mercy. Who need Him. This mercy. Embodied mercy. The forgiveness of our sins mercy.

For like with Zechariah, Abraham, David, and more, God could have - maybe should have - turned His back on us and rejected us for all we have done. For our disbelief, for the hurt we have caused, for taking matters into our own hands instead of trusting in His. But He didn’t. Instead He calls us to the font, to the pulpit, to the altar, to these mercy seats, and He mercies us. He forgives us, He raises us, and still He uses us and blesses us. That’s what He does. That’s who He is.

I don’t know how old Zechariah was when John was born. I wonder if he ever got to see Jesus. If he, like Simeon, got to take the baby Jesus, the mercy of God enfleshed, in his arms and rejoice. He was probably well too old to see John begin his forerunning activity, or to see Jesus in action after He began His ministry. Yet Zechariah did see it all. By faith. Hebrews chapter 11 is the great faith chapter in the Bible, mentioning all those saints of the Old Testament who lived by faith. It doesn’t get into New Testament saints, but if it did, Zechariah would have to be one of the first. He who started out faithless and mute, but who the mercy of God transformed into a faithful and vocal saint. 

You too. That is the blessing of being mercied. That through all our ups and downs, times when we’re strong and times when we’re weak, times when we’re faithful and times when we’re not, it is the mercy of God that see us through. The strong, dependable, never-ending mercy of God. The mercy promised to our fathers and now fulfilled. In Jesus.

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

Sermon for the Second Sunday of Advent

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Jesu Juva

“A Kingdom Unlike Any Other”

Text: Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12; Isaiah 11:1-10

 

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

You probably know that in Bible times, Jews and Gentiles didn’t get along. The Gentiles thought the Jews beneath them, the Jews regarded the Gentiles as unclean. The Gentiles thought the Jews atheists because they didn’t have idols in their synagogues or Temple, the Jews though the Gentiles idolaters because they did. The Gentiles thought they and their culture were superior, the Jews thought they were, for they were God’s chosen people, after all! So there was conflict, as you can imagine.

And it became a matter of some importance in the early church, after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, to figure out how to have a Christian church with both Jews and Gentiles in it. Especially those churches popping up in Gentile territory, like in Rome, the emperor’s own backyard. As we’ve learned in our day and age, ancient hostilities just don’t vanish or easily go away - they often burst out after years of being suppressed, stronger than ever.

So in the verses we heard from St. Paul’s letter to the church in Rome today, that’s the context. Those age-old prejudices and hostilities didn’t just magically go away when one became a Christian. They needed to be addressed. Paul does that in different ways throughout this letter, but here he is encouraging them to live in harmony with one another, that they may with one voice glorify God, and to welcome one another as Christ has welcomed each of them. But then he reminds them of this, too: that what was written in former days - that is, the Old Testament - was written for our instruction. 

Now, normally, when we hear that, I think we think of stories like the Exodus, the giving of the Ten Commandments, the prophets of God fighting the false prophets, David and Bathsheba - stories like that. And that’s not wrong. But there’s more. Lots more. And part of that more was what was said about the Gentiles. And Paul says, guess what it says? It says that Christ became a servant to the circumcised - that is, the Jews - to show God’s truthfulness, and in order to confirm [His] promises, yes. But this, too: in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. And then he quotes from the books of Deuteronomy, 2 Samuel, the Psalms, and Isaiah. That was written for your instruction, too, Paul says. Because whether you are a Jew or a Gentile, you need a Saviour. You might think you’re superior to one another, look down on one another, criticize and condemn one another, but from God’s point of view, from God’s throne, from where He sits, as He looks at you, y’all are sinners! Y’all are condemned! Which is why He planned, promised, and then sent you a Saviour. Jesus. So get over yourselves! 

Get over yourselves. We could also say it this way: humble yourselves. You’re not so great. You’re not so good. Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

That was John the Baptist’s message, as we heard today. John, the one who was sent to prepare the way of the Lord. For the way to prepare for the Lord is to repent. You welcome a Saviour by confessing that you need saving. If you don’t think you need saving, then you don’t care about a Saviour. Just like you don’t eat if you’re not hungry. You don’t stop at the gas station if your tank is full. You don’t change a lightbulb that isn’t burned out. So to prepare for Jesus is to confess we’re hungry, empty, and burned out. We are not righteous. We need forgiveness. We need changing. We need filling. 

And evidently, John was pretty good at this, this preaching of repentance, because people from Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region about the Jordan were going out to him, confessing their sins and being baptized by him.

But not everyone. Some were still sticking to their guns, the old prejudices, their superiority. So when the Pharisees and Sadducees came out, full of themselves, John lets them have it. They claimed their lineage as children of Abraham, but John calls them children of the serpent! A brood of vipers, that is, the offspring of the devil. They need to get over themselves! Because the axe of God’s Law doesn’t discriminate. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 

Now that’s an image with which they should have been familiar. Isaiah referred to it in calling Israel the stump of Jesse. A stump is a tree that has been cut down. And Israel, God’s chosen people, had been cut down because they did not bear good fruit. Instead of good grapes there were wild grapes. Instead of faithfulness there was idolatry. So God wielded the axe of the Assyrians against them, because they wouldn’t repent.

So what about you? We heard of Israel, cut down to a stump. We heard of the people in John’s day, called to repentance by him. We heard of Paul’s words to the Christians in Rome to get over themselves . . . Now what about you? I’m not going to call you a brood of vipers, because you are baptized children of God! But we still need to repent. That is still the way to prepare for the coming of Jesus, which is what this Advent season is all about. That we be prepared not only to remember and celebrate Jesus’ coming at Christmas, but be prepared for His coming again in glory. 

So to help us with that, I’ll take a page out of Paul’s playbook and ask you: who are the “Gentiles” today? Who are those we look at today and think ourselves superior? Those we maybe shake an accusatory finger at and say unclean! Condemned! 

Are the “Gentiles” today those caught up in sexual sins? And those who want to drag us and our children into their mixed-up ideology? That seems pretty rampant today. But what about our own sexual sins? If not in deed, then in our thoughts and desires? Or our acceptance of them in our society? Staying quiet. Going along to get along. Are we any better?

Are the “Gentiles” today those who don’t go to church? What about those who do - in the body, anyway - but our hearts and minds aren’t here? When we wish we were somewhere else. When we’re thinking about what we’re going to do, or need to do, later today . . . Are we any better?

I know! That person in Idaho who killed those college students. Awful! The devil incarnate! And while we haven’t done anything like that, isn’t there hate we harbor in our own hearts? Those people we wish were dead? And people who are hungry, cold, homeless, destitute, outcast and we fail to help . . .

Or how about Sam Bankman Fried. He’s got to be one of those “Gentiles” today, huh? Big time thief! Swindler, cheat, liar! Horrible! But what have we done with the riches God has so abundantly blessed us with? Do we keep wanting more, too? Even, maybe, if others need it more than me?

Sometimes our actions hurt others, sometimes it is our inaction. And the thinking that my needs come before theirs, my time is more important, I matter more . . . Really? Do we, do you, do I, need to get over ourselves? And realize that the darkness, the sin, the uncleanness, isn’t just “out there,” in them . . . 

Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. 

Our Saviour is coming. To save us not just from a world of sin, but to save us from ourselves. That we be chopped down by God’s Law now, for the cleansing fire of the Spirit, before the axe is laid to the root of the trees for burning in the unquenchable fire on the Last Day. That we be wheat, not chaff. That we produce good grapes, good fruit, not wild, untamed, sinful, sour grapes.

Now that sounds hard and painful, and maybe it is. But here’s the thing: from those God chops down for repentance now, growth happens. That’s what happened with Israel. Isaiah tells us that there shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit. From what looked like nothing, something. Something started to grow. A Saviour came from, grew from, that stump of a kingdom to grow into a kingdom that would include all people of all time, Jews and Gentiles, and be a kingdom that would have no end. A kingdom where things are as they were meant to be - with justice, peace, and righteousness. 

That’s the kingdom, the branch, John proclaimed in the wilderness, when he said: Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. A kingdom greater than Israel and greater than Rome. Those kingdoms would fall, as do all kingdoms of this world, sooner or later. But His would not. For His kingdom is not built by men or their might, but by this branch. This branch who was born in lowliness and died in humility, but rose from the dead, that all grafted onto Him receive from Him that life that will never end. 

That is the life you have received, and continue to receive. You were grafted into Him and His life in your Baptism. You continue to receive Him and His life when you repent and are absolved, forgiven all your sin. You continue to receive him and His forgiveness as your food and drink in the Supper of his Body and Blood. For the kingdom of heaven is at hand, here, literally, at our hands, in our hands, in these lowly things that are, really, anything but lowly. For they are a king coming to lowly people in lowly ways to lift us from our lowliness, our sinfulness, and into His kingdom. To give us life now, and a life to live forever.

So when John calls out to repent, what that means is for us to stop living a life that’s going to end, and start living that life that’s not going to end! And those two lives look very different and have very different priorities. They are as different as darkness and light, as selfishness and selflessness, as a tree filled with fruit and a tree with no fruit. Bear fruit in keeping with repentance, John said. That is, be who you are. Who you are in Christ Jesus.

And what might that look like? Well, what if Isaiah’s vision were not just of heaven, but maybe, already, a bit, started even here and now? The wolf dwelling with the lamb . . . the calf and the lion together - the devourer and the devoured reconciled and at peace. Children playing over the holes and dens of snakes and vipers without fear, for the life we have been given the bite of satan cannot take away. And a little child leading us. So little He could fit in a manger. This child who took the serpent’s bite and venom to give us the cure in His blood. This child who brings people who bite and devour like wolves and lions into the peace of His kingdom, His church. This child who came to make you and all people His children, no matter who you are, what you have done, and give and all people this life. His life.

Advent proclaims to us that this child, this king, is coming! Even now. Even here. So if that kind of kingdom sounds good to you, a kingdom of justice, peace, and righteousness, which it seems like people want and are fighting for, just in all the wrong ways, that is a kingdom of repentance. A kingdom not of accusing others but getting over ourselves. A kingdom not of getting but of receiving. A kingdom not with me on the throne, but with Jesus on the throne. So repent, humble yourself, get over yourself, and receive Him and His gifts. And when He comes in glory, when all is fulfilled, you won’t be full of yourself, but full of Him, full of Jesus. Full of His life, His love, His fruit. And that person next to you on that day just might be one of those “Gentiles.”Saved and welcomed, just like you, by grace through faith, by the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29). Wouldn’t that be something? 

And I’ll give the final word to St. Paul: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, - believing this! - so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you - your life - may abound in hope.

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