Third Sunday of Easter

Third Sunday of Easter (B)

April 14, 2024

Text: Luke 24:36-49

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!

            They thought they saw a spirit.  A ghost!  And so, they were startled and frightened.  Now, undoubtedly, they thought it was the spirit of the dead Jesus come to wreak vengeance upon them for deserting Him.  Just so, there is a profound theological truth latent in their fear.  If Jesus is still dead… or, perhaps, more to the point, if Jesus lives only as a spirit… then trouble and fear are the only alternatives.  For if Jesus is not risen from the dead, and that bodily, we are still in our sins.  And if we are still in our sins, God shall, indeed, wreak vengeance.

            But we know better… Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  Then again, do we know it?  We know it as an article of doctrine, but do we know it?  Don’t we, all too often, act as though Jesus lives only as a spirit, and that contained, safely, far away in heaven, with no real interaction with the flesh and blood reality of life in this world?  And don’t we sometimes even want that, because, if Jesus is just a spirit, we can ignore our doubts and fears until that day of reckoning is upon us.  We can do what we want, without His interference.  But then, what when we does appear?

            That is why, that first Easter evening, when Jesus is suddenly standing in the midst of His fearful disciples, He immediately speaks His Gospel, “Peace to you” (Luke 24:36; ESV), “Shalom” (and you remember what that means: Peace with God, therefore peace in your heart, sins forgiven, healing and wholeness, all things set right).  And then He shows them that He is not a mere spirit, not a ghost, but a Man, with a body.  See, here, my hands, and my feet.  Behold, the wounds, the holes left by the spikes.  I died.  I was crucified.  And that, for you.  But now I live.  Touch me, and see.  And not just, “it is I myself” (v. 39), but “I AM… Myself” (Krenz translation).  I AM… YHWH… God in human flesh.  Now, a spirit, a ghost, does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.  And that touches precisely the nerve of our doubt and fear.  Jesus does not live as a spirit, contained safely far away.  He is a flesh and blood Man, standing in our midst. 

            That is, at once, more frightening, and more consoling.  It is more frightening because of how real it all is.  Theology, religion, is not a system of theoretical concepts, much less soothing words of alternative reality to make us feel good and safe.  It is a concrete fact.  Our God is a Man, and He is here in the flesh, to deal with us in our flesh, and in real time.  If He does not come, therefore, speaking Peace, Shalom, we are, quite simply, doomed, and righteously so.  For all the times we have deserted Him.  For our every denial when faithfulness came at a cost.  For our every rejection of His will and His Word.  For huddling in fear of men, rather than God.

            But if He comes speaking Peace, Shalom, then a flesh and blood God is precisely the help and consolation we need.  A crucified God.  A Man, who is risen from the dead.  Because, if He is real, the Shalom is real.  It is as substantial as the flesh and bones of the Son of God. 

            And that means He is here, now, bodily, to touch your flesh with His own, thus to impart to you His life and his healing.  Incarnation: That God was born of the Virgin in our flesh…  Crucifixion: That the corpse on the crucifix is the dead body of God…  Resurrection: That the crucified Jesus did not merely arise to live in the hearts and minds of His disciples, or as a gnostic spirit, freed from the confines of the flesh… but in the body, now risen, glorified, eternally living and life-giving… These are of a piece, these creedal facts.  And they necessarily lead to the conclusion that, if our Lord Jesus is with us, as He says He is, He is with us in no less concrete a manner than bodily.  And that is to say, it really is His body and blood that you eat and drink in the Holy Supper.  And it really is His voice you hear in His Word.  Christology, what you believe about Christ, determines what you believe about the Sacrament, and the speaking and hearing of our Lord’s authoritative Word.  If Jesus accomplished your salvation, bodily, then He delivers His salvation to you, bodily.  There must be no Gnosticism about it, nor division of the Person who is at once divine and human, Spirit and body.  Even as He appeared, bodily, to the disciples on Easter evening, so He appears to you, bodily, here, under bread and wine, announcing His Peace, His Shalom.

            And then He eats.  “Have you anything here to eat?” (v. 41; ESV).  What on earth is the point of that?  Well, first of all, ghosts simply don’t eat food.  You need a body to bite and consume, right?  So, it is to prove He is really alive. 

            But it is more than that.  They give Him a piece of broiled fish, and He eats it.  Now, we may have expected Him to take bread and wine, and celebrate the Eucharist once more with His disciples.  That is certainly coming, and that will be the new reality for the congregation of disciples, from here on out, Sunday after Sunday.  He will join them (and us!) for the Feast.  This is assuredly a sign of that, but it is not that.  It is fish.  Why fish?  What is going on with the fish?

            It calls to mind, does it not, the disciples’ miraculous catch, when, at the Word of Jesus, they let down their nets, now so full that they began to break.  Henceforth, Jesus told them, they would be catching men (Luke 5:1-11).  It calls to mind the loaves and fishes with which the Lord fed the hungry crowds.  Five thousand here, four thousand there, not even counting the women and children, basket upon basket of pieces left over (Luke 9:10 ff; Matt. 15:32 ff.).  There is the parable of the net in Matthew 13 (47-50).  And, of course, there will be the repetition of the fishing miracle on the Sea of Tiberius… “Cast the net on the right side of the boat” (John 21:6), He will say, and, though the nets do not break, they will have trouble hauling the catch ashore… 153 large fish, and the charcoal fire, and Jesus, with His invitation, “Come and have breakfast” (v. 12).  Catching men like fish.  Feeding men with fish.  Fed by Jesus with fish.  This is why the fish became one of the earliest Christian symbols.  The Greek word for fish, ἰχθύς, became an acronym of Christian confession: Ἰησοῦς Χρῑστός Θεοῦ Υἱός Σωτήρ; that is, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.”  It was an identifying symbol, that the ancient Christians might recognize one another. 

            But there is even more than that.  Don’t forget the sign of Jonah (Matt. 16; Luke 11), the great sign of our Lord’s death and resurrection.  As Jonah was swallowed by the fish, so our Lord was swallowed up by death and the grave.  And just as the fish spat Jonah out after three days, so, from the belly of the earth, our Lord emerged alive after three days.  And now, the risen Jesus swallows the fish.  Do you get it?  It is the great joke of Easter.  Death and the grave have been swallowed up by life.  And now, just as Jonah went and proclaimed the Word of the LORD to Nineveh, and they repented and believed, so Christ is proclaimed throughout the world, and many repent and believe.  And so live! 

            But not if Jesus is just a spirit.  Get that through your head.  It is only true if God’s dead body has been raised. 

            This is what all the Scriptures are about.  All His Words.  The Law of Moses.  The Prophets and the Psalms.  “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead” (Luke 24:46).  And that is what the Church proclaims for repentance and forgiveness to all the nations.  Because that is the preaching of the Holy Spirit, the Promise of the Father, the Power from on High. 

            Jesus died for you.  Jesus is risen for you.  Repent of your sins.  Believe this good news.  Your sins are forgiven.  Your death is undone.  Receive the Holy Spirit.  Be restored to the Father.  And behold the Lord Jesus Christ Himself.  It is no mere spirit on the altar, in your midst.  It is a Man with flesh and bones.  Touch Him, and so see Him.  Eat Him and Drink Him.  And live no longer as though He is a God far away.  He is a God so near to you, His body invades yours.  And in that, there is life and Shalom.  Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.    

 

Second Sunday of Easter

Second Sunday of Easter (B)

April 7, 2024

Text: John 20:19-31

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!

            St. Thomas missed Church.  On Easter Sunday, no less!  Now, perhaps it was for a legitimate reason.  We tend to judge Thomas a little too harshly.  “Doubting Thomas,” and all that.  As though the other disciples had no doubts.  As though you’ve never doubted.  As though you don’t have any doubts right now.  Never mind where Thomas ends up at the conclusion of our Gospel.  In any case, Thomas was absent.  And what did he miss?  Nothing less than an encounter with the risen Lord Jesus Christ.  And note: It is because he missed that encounter, that he speaks his anti-Creed… “Unless!... Unless I see the marks… Unless I touch the wounds and poke around in them… Unless the Lord meets my conditions… I will never believe!” (Cf. John 20:25).

            We must not miss that, upon our risen Lord’s Sundy evening visit, all the components of the Christian Divine Service are there.  The gathering of disciples, the congregating, not of sinless saints, but forgiven sinners, still huddling in doubt and fear.  Then, all at once, the presence of the Lord.  The Holy Absolution: “Peace be with you” (v. 19; ESV).  And don’t miss what that is.  That is Shalom.  “Peace,” yes, but more than that.  “Wholeness,” we might say, the very thing, the very state of being, Israel had been longing for through the centuries, now present in this Man.  The showing and telling of His mortal crucifixion wounds (as Paul says to the Galatians, “It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified” (Gal. 3:1).  He is talking about the preaching.  The breath of Jesus, imparting His Spirit, speaking forth His Word, the Word of life.  The Holy Ministry.  Here we have its institution, the sending and the charge: “If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld” (John 20:23).  We know from Luke’s account of this same episode, that Jesus even eats with the disciples (Luke 24:41-43) (we’ll hear about that next week).  Now, it is not the Lord’s Supper.  Just a little bite of fish.  But, of course, it alludes to the eating that will happen now every Sunday, every Lord’s Day, in that Supper, at the weekly celebration of Easter.  And now, this is the pattern, isn’t it?

            So, what great grace that the very next Sunday, eight days later (John 20:26), when Thomas was with them, the Lord Jesus once again appeared.  To the disciples who were still wallowing in fear.  Still announcing the peace (Shalom) of His Absolution.  Still showing and telling of His sin-atoning wounds.  Bodily present in the midst of His congregation.  And now, because Thomas is at Church, where the risen Lord Jesus appears to distribute His gifts… his anti-Creed becomes the model Creed.  Seeing the wounds (we aren’t told whether he touches them with his hands and fingers), Thomas exclaims (mind you, concerning this flesh and blood, obviously executed, but risen and vigorously living Man standing before him), “My Lord and my God!” (v. 28).  He no longer disbelieves.  He believes.  What brought him to this faith and confession?  The same thing that happened for the other disciples the week before.  The encounter with the risen Lord Jesus Christ.

            And what happened there and then, two weeks in a row, from that time forward, has not failed to happen among the congregated disciples of Jesus, every time they gather together in His Name.  There is Jesus among them.  Absolving sins.  Speaking His Word.  Showing His wounds.  Imparting His Spirit.  Enlivening with faith and confession.  And, yes, eating with them.  Is it not true, here and now?  It is true.  Though we do not see it with our eyes.  We hear it with our ears, and so believe, and so confess.  And Jesus says that, in this way, as those who have not seen, and yet have believed, we are blessed (v. 29).

            That is why you come to Church.  Not to fulfill an obligation, or do your Christian duty (though it is your Christian duty, according to the Third Commandment).  Not to learn new things you didn’t know before (though that certainly may happen, and it is wonderful when it does; nevertheless, the Church Service, and even Bible Study, is not an academic lecture).  Why do you come, then?  To encounter the risen Lord Jesus Christ, who is bodily present, here and now, to give Himself, and all His saving benefits, to you in Word and Sacrament, for your forgiveness, life, and salvation.  Jesus is here.  You have come to visit with Him.  If you knew Jesus was going to arrive at some location, visibly, and invite you for a personal audience with Him, and bestow eternal gifts upon you, of course you’d come.  You wouldn’t miss it!  Well, except for the visible part, that is precisely the case for you at this very moment… and whenever we come together for the Divine Service.

            And see, that is what bestows faith and confession.  In the absence of the encounter, seeds of doubt and fear begin to grow.  That is what happens when you don’t come to Church.  But in the encounter, at the Word and touch of the risen Jesus, you are given to believe, and so, your lips are opened to confess the very words of St. Thomas: “My Lord and my God.” 

            You need this encounter, always.  Luther preached, “The devil is ever on the alert to insinuate all kinds of wickedness into our hearts, and would fain make them as cold as ice. Where God’s Word is not repeatedly proclaimed in sermons, in hymns, in private conversation, so that we may not forget it or become callous towards it, there it is impossible for our hearts, which are burdened with many an earthly pain and sorrow, with wicked purposes and the devil's malicious instigations, not to fail and to fall from Christ. Thus it is an urgent necessity that the preaching of the Gospel continue among us, that we may hear and retain it, otherwise we would soon forget our Lord.”[1]  In other words, we need to hear the same old Gospel preached to us again and again, because we always forget that same old Gospel.  And, of the Sacrament, St. Ambrose famously said, “Because I always sin, I am always bound to take the medicine” (AC 24:33).  Preaching and Sacrament.  That is how our risen Lord continues to hold His crucifixion wounds before our eyes, and sustain us in the one true faith.  And that is how He continues to grant us the peace (Shalom) of sins forgiven.

            We could say a word, here, too, about our new crucifix.  The crucifix is not, in itself, a means of grace, as are the Word and Sacraments.  But it is certainly a picture that calls to mind the Words of Christ, isn’t it?  And it does hold before our eyes the crucifixion wounds and the death of Christ.  And so, we might say, it is a visual aid for our faith.  That is how we should regard all Chrisian visual art, icons, crosses and crucifixes, statues, paintings… as a visual preaching.  Now, some may object to the crucifix, because, after all, we worship a risen Christ, not a dead one.  Yes, that is true.  And we also worship a grown-up Christ, not an infant one, but that doesn’t prevent you from putting up your manger scene at Christmas.  More to the point, it is admittedly strange to decorate our churches and homes with pictures of a condemned criminal’s execution.  It isn’t because we are morbid.  And, we must note, it is only this execution of this Man that we commemorate in such a way that we hang it around our necks and hold it before our eyes.  And there is a singular reason we do so.  Because this dead Man rose.  And so, His death is our life.  We have a crucifix precisely because we worship a risen Jesus.  It would be a symbol of hopelessness if He were still dead.  But now that He is risen, it is the sign of victory.  And for the same reason, the risen Jesus shows His disciples His hands and His side.  This is why He still has the crucifixion wounds.  “I died, but behold, I am alive forevermore!”  If the crucifix depresses you, repent and look again.  The corpse lifted up upon that pole is no longer dead.  Jesus lives!  And so, dear Church, lift high the cross! 

            Lift it in honor of the One who is here, bodily present, for you.  Lift it in confession and proclamation of the One who died on that cross, but who is risen from the dead.  Lift it that your eyes may behold your salvation in the body given into death, the blood poured out, for your forgiveness, life, and salvation.  Let it drive you to the Altar, where this very Lord is now enthroned, and gives Himself to you..

            And don’t miss Church.  There are legitimate reasons to miss, I suppose.  Sickness, certainly.  Hospitalization.  When you are on a trip, though in that case, try to find a Missouri Synod Church to visit.  I’d be happy to help you.  Of course, there are some folks, like police officers, or ER doctors, for example, who have to work on Sundays.  Like our shut-ins, we should always make sure they have a way to receive Jesus’ Word and Sacrament.  What else for legitimate excuses?  Not much more.  Don’t let old Adam convince you that you are too tired, or that you have too much going on, that you just need a break, that there are more important things to do.  Don’t let him poison your heart against the people here, in their own sins and weaknesses.  You, too, have your Thomasian doubts and fears.  Don’t let him convince you that the weakness and insufficiency of the pastor will prevent Jesus from showing up.  Don’t let old Adam keep you away.  Not for any reason.  Drown him.  Crucify him.  Which is to say, repent.

            Why would you want to miss this?  If you want to miss it, you just don’t get it.  And if you get it, you’ll never want to miss it.  Here is Jesus.  He is here for you.  Receive His peace.  Shalom.  Receive His Spirit.  Hear His Word.  Behold His wounds.  Be no longer disbelieving, but believing.  And confessing!  “My Lord and my God.”  These things are written for this very reason, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31). 

            Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                          

 

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[1] https://books.google.com/books?id=3KXvDmuEO3EC&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&dq=%22martin%20Luther%22%20forget%20the%20gospel%20preaching&pg=PA46#v=onepage&q&f=false

The Resurrection of Our Lord

The Resurrection of Our Lord (B)

March 31, 2024

Text: Mark 16:1-8

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!

            “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?” (Mark 16:3; ESV).  Who, indeed?  Death is the last great enemy to be defeated (1 Cor. 15:26).  Our graveyards are marked by stones.  And it is the stone that seals the tomb.  Like the great stone sealing Daniel in the lions’ den, like the stone vaults enclosing our remains, the stone of death shuts us in.

            We know that stone.  We know the darkness its shadow brings.  We know the crushing weight of it.  Mourning.  Grief.  Loved ones taken from us all too soon.  Disease.  Tragedy.  War.  Terror.  “(I)n the day you eat of it you shall surely die” (Gen. 2:17).  So our first parents were told in the Garden.  But take, they did, and ate the fruit.  Eve first, at the serpent’s prompting.  And then she told Adam, and Adam believed her sermon, rather than God’s.  And so, here we are, in our own mortality.  Sons and daughters of Adam and Eve.  Naked and ashamed and fleeing God.  But knowing justice will get us in the end.  The stone is very large, and we cannot move it.  Who will roll the stone away?

            But look up, now, with the spice-laden women, Mary, and Mary, and Salome, these three.  Peel your eyes away from your own navel.  Look up!  Look up, and what do you see?  The stone has already been rolled back!  And then, what appears as you look inside?  Not a corpse, as you, and they, supposed.  But a young man, sitting on the right side, robed in white, and I’m certain he is smirking.  And now, listen up!  What do you hear?  A sermon!  Proclamation!  This man is a preacher.  An angel from heaven, sent from on high. 

            What does he preach?  The death and resurrection of Jesus for you, and the end of all your fear.  “Do not be alarmed.  You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He has risen; he is not here.  See the place where they laid him” (Mark 16:6).  If Christ has died, your sins are forgiven.  If Christ is risen, then you, too, shall live.  Now, “go, tell his disciples and Peter” (v. 7).  The women are the first to see and tell.  They are the Church.  They are undoing old Eve’s telling to old Adam.  They bring a better Word to the men huddled in fear.  Jesus lives.  The stone has been rolled away.  He goes before you into Galilee.  There you will see Him, just as He told you.  And you will be sent to the whole world.  The Apostles are the pastors.  They are to preach this to all who will hear.  Church and Ministry; confessing and preaching.  And in the day you hear of it, and believe the good news, you shall surely live.

            Now, the first thing the women do is flee the tomb in trembling and astonishment.  Their first instinct is to tell no one anything (v. 8).  And, no wonder.  We know from the other Gospels, the disciples dismiss them as telling idle tales.  And anyway, can this possibly be true?  Dead men don’t rise… do they?  And Mark, in this text, leaves us without a resurrection appearance.  I think he does that, by the way, as a nod to us.  We know the Apostles, and before them, Mary Magdalene, are given to see the risen Lord.  But we are not.  Not with our eyes.  At least, not yet, not this side of the gravestone.  We can only see the absence of a corpse.  But we are given to hear the angel’s sermon.  Yes, Jesus of Nazareth was crucified for your sins, the perfect Sacrifice of Atonement, the very Lamb of God.  But if you are looking for Him in a crypt, your search will be in vain.  That is not where He is!  He is risen, as He said.  And that is your righteousness and life.  So, trust not what your eyes may, or may not see.  Trust your ears as the Spirit gives you to hear the Gospel of life, that casts out fear. 

            And now, you don’t need to flee in trembling and astonishment.  When your ears are filled with resurrection preaching, you, dear Church of God, may go and tell it to everyone… in all the situations where the stone looms large.  What should the Christian cry out in time of grief?  Nevertheless, Christ is risen!  Jesus, the Crucified, lives!  What should you say when lowering the body of a loved one into the ground?  Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, therefore, this body shall rise!  What about when you are sick, smothered in the inevitability of your own mortality?  I know that my Redeemer lives!  And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh, I shall see God!  My eyes shall behold Him, and not another (Job 19:25-27).  In the face of tragedy, of war and terror, confess… do not deny, but confess… Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!

            Look up!  Look up, now, and what do you see?  The stone has been rolled back forever.  A new Stone reigns, the Stone the builders rejected.  This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes and ears.  Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life!  The tomb is empty.  Jesus lives!  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                 

Vigil of Easter

The Vigil of Easter

March 30, 2024

Text: Mark 16:1-8

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!

            We’ve been keeping vigil here tonight, in anticipation of this very news.  Keeping vigil.  Keeping watch.  “Watch and pray,” says the Lord, “that you may not enter into temptation” (Matt. 26:41; ESV).  Such should be the disposition of all Christian disciples until we see the risen Lord.  Waiting in faith.  Waiting in hope.  On the lookout.  But not idle.  Doing what, then?  Listening for His voice.  Hearing the Scriptures.  As we have tonight, a vast swath of salvation history, from Creation to Exile, to redemption and fulfillment in Christ.  Praying.  Meditating.  Immersed in the concrete reality of our Baptism into Christ.

            The readings we heard from the Old Testament this evening, are the four always included in the Easter Vigil service: Creation, Flood, the Red Sea, and the Fiery Furnace.  If we really wanted to get serious about our vigiling, there are eight more suggested selections, plus the apocryphal song of the three young men in the furnace following our last reading.  There are two versions of it in our hymnal, hymns 930 and 931, if you want to check them out. 

            What do all the readings have in common (at least those we’ve heard tonight)?  Water.  Well, all except one, the Fiery Furnace.  But this is, after all, a baptismal service, the Vigil.  For the Baptism of infants, yes (we had the Baptism of James Ford only a couple of years ago), but especially of adult converts, and even when there is no Baptism, for all of us to recall and live in our own Baptism into Christ.  In the Early Church, and through much of the Church’s history, the Season of Lent was observed as a time of intense catechesis for baptismal candidates and catechumens.  It all culminated on this night, as, for the first time, the catechumens (the adults, at least) recited the Apostles’ Creed, received Holy Baptism, were clothed in a white robe, anointed with holy oil (Confirmation), prayed the Lord’s Prayer, and joined the congregation for the Lord’s Supper.  This service is all about that.  It’s possible you and I became bored, and shifted nervously during the Service of Readings tonight, but think how those newborn Christians would have hung on every word of the Holy Scriptures, as they were hearing them… maybe for only the second or third time in their life, assuming they heard them during catechesis, or perhaps for the first time, if the catechist only summarized the teaching… hearing them, now, applied to their own life and salvation.  God grant us to hear the Scriptures afresh in this way!

            So, water.  The Spirit, hovering over the waters of Creation, even as He hovers over the waters of New Creation at the font.  The Flood, washing away all sin and evil, but delivering Noah and his family, eight persons in all (1 Peter 3:20) in the floating ark, even as Baptism now saves us and washes us clean, delivering us through the Flood of God’s wrath in the Ark of Holy Church.  The Red Sea, Pharaoh and his host swept away and drowned, while Israel walks across on dry ground, even as we are delivered from our enemies… the devil, the world, and our own sinful nature… in the blood-red Sea of Holy Baptism. 

            And, what about the three young men in the fiery furnace, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego?  This, too, has to do with Baptism.  “I baptize you with water for repentance,” St. John confessed in the wilderness, “but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matt. 3:11).  Though the world throws us into the pit of death, the fire will not harm us.  The Lord Himself will deliver us (who is that fourth Man walking, like a son of the gods, in the midst of the flames?  You know it.  This is no mere angel.  It is the Son of God, Himself, the pre-incarnate Christ!).  The fire, we might say, is that of the Refiner (“he is like a refiner’s fire,” sings Handel, in the words of the Prophet Micah [3:2]).  The fire cleanses, purifies, how?  By burning away the dross, our idols, our unfaith… all that is not Christ.  That necessarily comes with Baptism.  And it is a gift.  Though, it can hurt beyond anything.  Still, our Lord is with us in it, doing His saving work. 

            But what else do all the readings have in common?  God bringing life out of death.  Salvation out of suffering.  Well, the first reading, Creation, is not so much life out of death, but really, same miracle.  Because, in that reading, He brings life out of no life, creatio ex nihilo, creation out of nothing.  No one but God can do that.  We can make things out of other things, and in this way, we reflect God’s image, but only God can make something out of nothing, by mere utterance of His creative Word.  And that same Word delivers Noah, and Israel, and Daniel’s faithful companions out of mortal danger.  That same Word becomes flesh and dwells among us (John 1:14).  It is the Word crying out on the cross, and silenced for our sins.  It is the Word that bursts forth alive from the tomb, and will call us back to life at the time appointed.  In fact, already has called us to life in our Holy Baptism into Him.

            He is the fulfillment of it all, isn’t He?  Cross and Resurrection are writ large over all the Hebrew Scriptures.  But we miss it, apart from the light of Easter Dawn.  We miss it, apart from the Spirit’s enlightening, when we are washed in water and the Word.  That is why the women come to the tomb, expecting to find a corpse.  But an angel has rolled away the stone.  And upon his preaching, the women run away, seized by trembling and astonishment.  Can we believe our eyes and our ears?  Can the angel’s words possibly be true?  If so, the whole world has been turned upside down, not to mention our own lives. 

            That’s right.  All of history hinges on this moment.  And your life, too.  All that came before is fulfilled in this.  All that comes after either rebels against it, or is redeemed by it.  You either rebel against it, or are redeemed by it.  The fact is, it has flooded your life and being in the bloody baptismal water.  It is poured down your throat in the wine of the chalice.  Grace.  Pure grace.  “This is the night when all who believe in Christ are delivered from bondage to sin and are restored to life and immortality.”  For “This is the night when Christ, the Life, arose from the dead.  The seal of the grave is broken and the morning of the new creation breaks forth out of night.  Oh, how wonderful and beyond all telling.”  And yet, we tell it.  Our vigil has been rewarded, and we tell it, in joy; we tell it in faith, and in hope, and in love: Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  Life has come forth out of death.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.              

 

 

 

Good Friday Tenebrae

Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday (B)

March 28, 2024

Text: 1 Cor. 10:16-17 (my translation): “The cup of blessing, which we bless… is it not a koinonia of the blood of Christ?  The bread, which we break… is it not a koinonia of the body of Christ?  Because there is one bread, the many are one body, for we all partake from the one bread.”  

            Koinonia.  I’ve left the word untranslated for a reason.  “Participation,” as our ESV has it, is an excellent translation.  But it is only one facet of this many splendored jewel of a word.  Is it not a koinonia… Is it not a sharing, a being united together with, a fellowship in, a communion by means of… the blood, the body, of Christ?

            That is, a koinonia with Christ Himself.  Union with Him.  Reception of His blood, and of His crucified and risen body.  The Lord Jesus, invading you bodily, taking possession of you, becoming one with you.  His blood, coursing through your veins.  His body, nourishing and enlivening your body.  And, of course, your soul.  You in Him, and He in you.  One body.  One Lord.

            And what is the result, then, between you and those with whom you kneel at the altar?  Koinonia… a sharing together in Christ, united together as one, in fellowship, in Communion (thus the name of this Sacrament)… “Now you are the body of Christ,” Paul will say a little later in this Epistle, “and individually members of it” (1 Cor. 12:27; ESV).  It is not that you lose your individuality.  But you are now, individually, members of the body, united as one.

            And see… The sacramental presence of Christ’s body and blood under bread and wine creates the mystical body of Christ that is the Church.  Mere bread and wine cannot do this.  Nor can our faith (this is not a miracle we can do for ourselves).  It is the Lord who does it, and He does it here and now, in the flesh.

            The cup of blessing, which we bless… That is, the consecrated cup, that over which the Lord has spoken in His Words of Institution: “This is my blood of the covenant” (Mark 14:24)… It is a koinonia, a participation in, a reception of the very blood of Christ, shed on the cross, for the forgiveness of your sins.  The bread, which we break… That is, the consecrated bread, that over which the Lord has spoken His performative and creating Word: “this is my body” (v. 22)… It is a koinonia, a participation in, a reception of the very body of Christ, given into death on the cross, that you may have eternal life.

            And we all receive from the one loaf, the one cup.  There is one bread.  It is the body of the Lord Jesus.  When we partake in the one bread of Jesus’ body, we ourselves are united as one.  And there is one chalice.  When we drink of the one cup, it is a covenant of blood with our Lord, and with one another.  And so, the very life of our congregation… the very life of the holy Christian Church (the Church catholic… all believers, of all times and places)…  that life flows from the altar.  It flows from Christ.

            This sheds light, by the way, on another passage where Paul speaks of the body of Christ in the Sacrament, namely, 1 Corinthians 11:29: “For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself.”  What is the meaning of the word “body,” in this case?  Is it the body of Christ sacramentally present under the bread?  Or is it the mystical body of Christ, which is to say the Church?

            Yes.  It is first the sacramental presence of Christ’s body under the bread.  That is demanded by the context of this verse, following, as it does, upon the heels of Paul’s own recitation of the Words of Institution, wherein Christ has just said of the bread, “This is my body” (v. 24).  And, as we are reminded in our text this evening, such eating is a koinonia in the body of Christ, and that must be the sacramental presence of His body, because he also says, in the same place, that drinking of the cup is a koinonia in Jesus’ blood, and the Church is never spoken of as “the mystical blood of Christ.”  Therefore, He is not using the word “body” in this passage to speak of the mystical body of Christ.

            But this sacramental presence of Christ is what gives birth to the mystical body of Christ, what brings it about.  So, when one eats and drinks without discerning (believing, confessing) the sacramental body of Christ under bread and wine, he also fails to discern the mystical body of Christ, the Church, in communion around the sacramental body of her Lord.     

            In any case, think what this means.  Imagine, if you will, that this very night, quite suddenly, and apart from any open door, or window ajar, our Lord Jesus Christ, turns up right here, in the very center of things.  Visible.  Audible.  Tangible.  Very much alive, but showing us the mortal, crucifixion wounds.  Speaking with us.  Announcing His peace.  Breathing on us (“Receive the Holy Spirit” [John 20:22]).  …. Eating with us! …

            And we can tell Him anything, all that is on our minds and hearts.  Our sorrows, our fears… our sins.  The sad divisions within Christendom that prevent us from communing together.  The sad divisions that may afflict us in our own congregation, or in our families, or even in our own hearts.  Our guilt.  Our shame.  Our failures.  Our griefs.  Our broken bodies.  Our broken souls.  Others for whom we are concerned, those we love, those who bear their own afflictions, or who walk in danger, and especially those who, perhaps, are not in Christ.

            And here He is, Christ our Lord, front and center, and we come to Him, and kneel before Him, and lay all of this out for Him, together as His Church, and one by one as members of His body.  And He reaches out to each one of us and touches the brokenness, wherever death infects us, wherever sin has held sway.  He touches us with the same body that healed the sick and cast out demons, cleansed lepers and raised the dead.  The same body that gave sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, that set the lame on their own two feet.  With a touch that goes right to the heart of us, to the very core of our being.  Cleansing.  Enlivening.  Healing.  Making whole.  Uniting us with Himself, and so, with the Father, and the Spirit.  Uniting us with one another, as one body… His body… to be His hands and feet in the world.  Imagine it.  Imagine it.

            But, of course, you know… you don’t have to imagine it.  Because it is, as a matter of fact, the case tonight.  And every time we gather.  “This is my body… This is my blood.”  Eat it.  Drink it.  It is a koinonia in God’s own flesh.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Palm Sunday/ Sunday of the Passion

Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion

March 24, 2024

Text: John 12:12-19; Mark 14 & 15

            The Passion of our Lord essentially preaches itself.  But as we meditate upon this heaping helping of Gospel, perhaps it would be edifying to ask: Where do you see yourself in each of these Passion scenes?  With which person, or persons, do you identify? 

            Beginning already with the scene on Palm Sunday.  Where are you in that pilgrim throng?  Are you strewing your palm branches and spreading your cloak, a royal carpet to welcome your victorious King?  Are you singing Hosannas (“Save us now, O Lord”) with the frolicsome children?  Or befuddled with the disciples, who do not understand?  Or, perhaps, you are filled with righteous consternation over the crowd’s raucous praise for this self-styled Rabbi from Galilee. 

            Or, maybe, you are Lazarus, just happy to be alive.

            As Chief Priests plot with stealthy scribes to arrest Him and kill Him, are you Simon the Leper, who sups with Him in your house, undoubtedly cleansed by His touch and His Word?  Or are you the woman with the alabaster flask, anointing His sacred and soon-to-be wounded head, in love, doing what you can to prepare Him for burial?  Indeed, to this very day, and in this very place, “wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done” is “told in memory of her” (Mark 14:9; ESV).

            Or, maybe, you are among those grumbling at the expense.  Why spend so lavishly, when you can worship the Lord for free?  After all, there are poor people who require our care!  Maybe, your Judas-ized heart thinks you can serve both God and Mammon.  But, look where that will lead you, unless you repent.

            Then, you find yourself in the Upper Room.  It is the first day of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrifice the Passover Lamb.  Are you, perhaps, the servant carrying the water jar, humbly undertaking the tasks no one else will do?  Or the Master who subsidizes the venue for the Feast?  Do you sit with the disciples in disbelief, that by your sins you could ever betray the Lord with whom you dip your bread in sop?  “Is it I, Lord?  Could it be?” 

            Or, maybe, you protest with Peter: “Even though they all fall away, I will not” (v. 29).  We shall see.  We shall see.  In any case, the Lord feeds you, graciously, by His own hand.  “My body.  My blood.  Given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.”

            What happens in the Garden when your Jesus bids you, “Watch!”?  Can you will yourself to pray with your distressed and troubled Savior?  Or are your eyelids too heavy?  Have you lulled yourself to sleep?  Ah, the spirit is so willing, but the flesh is oh, so weak.  Or perhaps you suffer with Jesus, crying out to your Father in heaven, “Remove from me this cup!  Yet Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

            Then, here comes the mob, with swords and clubs, led by the betrayer, who has given them a sign: “The one I will kiss is the man. Seize him and lead him away under guard” (v. 44).  Not only is Christ’s body pierced for our salvation… His heart is broken by the betrayal of a friend.  Perhaps you’ve been there, yourself betrayed.  He takes your sorrow into Himself. 

            Or, maybe, you, yourself, have kissed the Son while plotting treachery in your own heart.  How often my own lips have pressed His sacred flesh, only to turn and give myself over to evil.  “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” 

            How often have you fled when the going gets tough?  Abandoned Jesus for fear of reprisal?  Like the young man, like old Adam himself, naked in a garden, running from God. 

            Well, we know what happens next.  Bound as the sacrificial Lamb, He is led (appropriately) before the High Priest, the one responsible for the sacrifice.  Peter follows, but at a distance, not wanting to get too close.  Timid, lest he actually have to suffer with his Lord.  And, boasting aside, Jesus’ prophecy rings true.  In the moment of decision, when everything is on the line, does Peter boldly confess His faith?  Invoking curses, he swears to God: “I do not know this man” (v. 71).  Now, is that you?  Has it ever been?  When false witnesses arise to testify against you?  When they accuse you of all manner of evil, falsely (“You hater!  You bigot!”)?  When rejection, or persecution, or pain are the wages of your devotion?  Therefore, send not to know for whom the rooster crows.  It crows for thee (with apologies to John Donne).  It’s enough to make you break down and weep.

            Listen to the Lord, though, as He speaks the truth, and seals His fate.  “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” (v. 61).  “I am, and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven” (v. 62).  So, the High Priest tears his robes.  And they all condemn Him as deserving of death.  Then, the spitting and the striking, the mockery and the blows. 

            From this point on, it all happens so fast… for us, though, not for Jesus, the forces of hell on His back.  There is the trial before Pilate.  The bloodthirsty crowds.  The purple cloak and thorny crown as the battalion beats and berates Him.  And then, the dragging of the beams along the Golgotha Road.  Are you with Simon, carrying His cross?  Or are you with the soldiers who pierce His flesh, who lift Him up, and gamble for His clothes?  Are you among the thieves, crucified with Him?  Or with the wagging heads, crying “Aha!  Aha!” 

            Or, maybe, you are Barabbas, surprised to be alive and free.  Barabbas means, “son of the father.”  The Father’s Son dies, that you may live as sons of God.

            What about when you confess the Creed?  Suffered under Pontius Pilate.  Crucified, dead and buried.  Are you the centurion, upon seeing these things?  “Truly this man was the Son of God!” (15:39).  Are you among the women looking on from a distance?  Those who loved Him and cared for Him in His every bodily need?

            Or, maybe, you are Joseph, looking for the Kingdom of God… (Is there ever an unfaithful Joseph in the Bible?)… who, whatever else you may, or may not, know, you know the Kingdom is found in this precious body.  Therefore, you take courage, and, in the sight of all, embrace the Crucified.  You care for His body, the Supper, the Church, the Communion in His body and blood.  Perhaps you’ve buried a loved one recently, hoping in, believing, trusting that that Communion means you will see the beloved again… that the beloved joins you here, in the Kingdom of God, with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. 

            Beloved, think on these things as you hear, and read, and meditate upon our Lord’s Passion throughout this week.  Where do you see yourself in the story?  With whom do you identify?  Who are you in the Passion?  At some point, we should, each of us, undoubtedly see ourselves in every one of those who play a part.

            But do not fail to recognize this, and hold it forever in your heart and soul.  Do you know where God sees you in the Passion of our Lord?  He sees you in Jesus Christ, His Son.  Your sin atoned.  Your debt paid in full.  Forgiven.  Cleansed.  Righteous.  Free.  God’s own redeemed and beloved child.  Therefore, see yourself in Him on the cross, clothed with Christ, tucked into His wounds.  After all, you are baptized into Christ.  And “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” (Rom. 6:3).  And, think what that means for us, very soon.  If we have been united with Him in a death like His, well…  The Third Day is coming.  To be in Christ, then, immersed in His death and resurrection, makes a better-than-Barabbas, better-than-Lazarus, of us all.  Not only do we not die eternally in hell.  We live eternally, risen with the risen Jesus.  So, whatever else we may do this day, let us wave our palms, sing with the children, and rejoice with the holy angels: Hosanna to the Son of David!  Hosanna to our coming King!  Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the LORD!  Hosanna in the Highest.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.