Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost

 Video of Service

Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 27A)

November 8, 2026

Text: Matt. 25:1-13

            Ten virgins, which is to say, ten Christians… or, Church members, anyway.  That is, those who appear to be Christians.  One can see what is on the outside, right?  The outward indications of Christian faith, including confession and behavior… works.  But one cannot see what is on the inside.  Faith.  That is known only to the person him-or-herself, and to God.  So they all have lamps, these ten virgins.  They all have the exterior casing of faith.  Again, their works.  And that is good and important.  But what you can’t see is whether there is oil in their lamps.  Without the oil, the lamp is no good.  Right?  Just a piece of fragile clay.  Or, even if shiny, ornate metal… without the oil, useless.

            They are waiting for the Bridegroom.  That is, Christians are waiting for the Lord Jesus to return.  The Resurrection.  The Judgement.  The eternal Wedding Feast.  But now, the Bridegroom is delayed, and the hour is late.  Darkness descends, and so do the eyelids.  It is hard to wait, and to watch.  Like Peter, James, and John in the Garden of Gethsemane, the spirit, indeed, is willing, but the flesh is weak.  So, all ten virgins fall asleep.  All ten!  We should note that.  Because we all get sleepy.  We all fail to watch and pray.  We let down our guard.  Jesus hasn’t come yet, and we are lulled into a false sense of security.  He probably won’t come today, either.  We should repent of that.  Wake, awake, for night is flying, the watchmen on the heights are crying.  We all need to wake up!  But, be that as it may, the essential difference between the wise and the foolish virgins is not their immunity to spiritual drowsiness or excelling in vigilance.

It’s the oil.  That is the essential difference.  Again, faith.  Or, we might even say, the Spirit Himself, whose outpouring in the Means of Grace is the source of faith.  Oil often represents the Spirit in Holy Scripture.  

What do the Scriptures say of the foolish?  “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (Ps. 14:1; ESV).  Foolish Church members don’t have faith, or the Holy Spirit.  Like the virgins without oil.  They look good on the outside.  They just don’t believe all this on the inside.  And what of the wise?  “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Ps. 111:10).  Fear, not as in terror, but as in reverence.  Filial love.  Trust.  Faith.  Where the Spirit flows from God into a person, there is faith.  The lamp is filled.  Oil in abundance.  And divine light shines forth into the darkness.

Now, the virgins are awakened in the middle of the night.  The herald cries: “The Bridegroom is here!  Come out to meet Him!”  They weren’t expecting Him at this hour.  But here He is!  And the five with oil light their lamps, to see Him, and to go in with Him.  But the five without… their lamps are no good.  And the five who have the oil cannot share.  That is, one cannot believe for another.  See, one must have faith before the Bridegroom comes.  So, while the five foolish virgins go and try to find faith wherever they may, the five who already have it go into the Party with the Bridegroom, and the doors are shut, and now, for the five foolish virgins, it is too late.  Once the Bridegroom arrives, the time has passed to go get what you need.  They bang on the door, these five foolish ones.  “Lord, lord, open to us,” they cry (Matt. 25:11).  And what does the Bridegroom answer?  (It is chilling!)  “Truly, I say to you, I do not know you” (v. 12).  I mean, we’ve never had a relationship before.  You thought to impress Me with your beautiful lamp, but I’m interested in the oil inside.  Without that, you cannot come in.

What is the warning in this Gospel?  Receive Christ Jesus now, by faith, through His gifts in Word and Sacrament, that your lamp may be full.  Don’t put it off.  Don’t substitute other things, like your own good works, as the object of your trust.  Don’t presume upon the Lord.  “Ah, He’s not coming back anytime soon.  And I don’t plan to die today.  So, I have time.  I can get around to God’s Word and all this Church stuff later.  I have other things to live for now.  Anyway, I’m basically a good person.  Especially next to some people I know who claim to be Christians.  So, I’m sure if Jesus did come now, or if I did happen to die today, I’m safe.”  Such “faith,” Luther says, is “a manmade thing”... “it is just like foam on the water, or like the head on a bad beer.”  Lots of froth.  No substance.  

Beloved, don’t be an empty lamp.  That would be useless.   Be filled with Christ.  Be filled with His Spirit.  Be filled with faith.  How do you do that?  You know.  Be here.  Be here, where the Scriptures are read, where the Word is preached.  Be here, where the Table is set, and where our Lord Himself is both Host and Food.  Be here, where the Body of Christ is gathered, and do not despise your Christian brothers and sisters, whose mutual conversation and consolation is a Means of Grace to you.  This is the beginning of the Wedding Feast.  Right here at the altar.  And then, you take what you receive here out with you into your life in this world.  Make God’s Word the centerpiece of your life and your home.  Read His Word daily.  Read it to your family.  Talk about it.  Meditate on it.  Pray it.  Live by it.  By these Means, the Spirit flows into you, so that you are filled, that your lamp may burn bright.

So also, don’t be taken unawares by the Lord’s coming.  Remember, they all fall asleep.  We know how that goes.  So, wake up!  Watch, and pray.  Keep an eye, always, on that Day.  Look, the signs are all around us, that He is coming soon.  Every tragedy, every disaster, every incremental slip further down the slope into evil, and the marks of fallenness all around us… what are they?... They are calls to repentance.  To vigilance.  To faith in Christ, and hopeful anticipation of His arrival.  When you find yourself drifting off… living for the things of this earthly life… comfortably immersed in the luxuries of the flesh (or believing you’d be comfortable if only you had those luxuries)... concerned more with things temporal than you are with things eternal... call upon the Lord to deliver you, and to wake you up.  He will.  He is faithful.  Even when you are not.  He will send His Spirit whenever you cry out to Him.

So, that is the warning.  But what is the comfort of this Gospel?  Beloved, this Bridegroom who is coming… you know Him!  In fact, He is coming for you!  You wait for Him with eager longing and joyful anticipation.  You love Him!  Because He first loved you.  This is He who gave Himself into the death of the cross to make you His own.  To redeem you from sin and hell.  To rescue you from death and the devil.  And He is risen, and lives, and reigns for you.  You need not be in terror over His coming (don’t let anybody try to scare you about that with their silly doomsday premillennialism).  You already know the Judgment He will pronounce.  You heard it again a few moments ago.  Your sins are forgiven.  You are righteous, for His sake.  That is the Judgment.  Justified.  And now, the Wedding.  You are a member of His Bride, the Church.  And what does that mean for you?  It means that all that is yours, now becomes His.  And all that is His, now becomes yours.  The Great Exchange.  He takes away all your guilt and shame, your sorrow, your afflictions, your death.  He pays all your debts.  And to you He gives all His righteousness, holiness, purity… His Spirit, His life, and the very Kingdom!  He gives you to be a blood-bought, beloved child of His heavenly Father.  That is the comfort of this Gospel.

Ten virgins.  Ten Church members.  Five are foolish.  Five are wise.  What makes the difference?  Not the shiny exterior.  The oil.  Faith.  The Holy Spirit.  Wisdom receives Christ by His Word and Spirit.  God grant it to be so for each one of us.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                  

 

All Saints' Day

 

Video of Service

All Saints’ Day 

November 1, 2026

Text: Rev. 7:9-17

            There is but a thin veil separating this assembly from that of the angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven.  Such that we are one.  One assembly.  One Communion of saints.  And that Communion of Saints… a thing we know only by faith, not by sight… a thing to be believed and confessed… that Communion of Saints manifests most vividly to us on this side of the veil, in the Holy Communion.  That is, the bodily presence of the Lord Jesus on His altar, gathering us Christians from all times and places around Himself.  The Lamb, slain, but standing… crucified, but risen from the dead… giving Himself to His beloved Christians for the forgiveness of sins and eternal life.

That is to say, in the Divine Service, heaven comes down to us, as Jesus comes to us, really and truly, and bodily, in the Holy Sacrament.  St. John, still physically alive on this side of the veil, is given a glimpse of how it looks on the other side of the veil.  There he is, exiled on the Isle of Patmos for the Word of God and the Testimony of Jesus (do you remember this from Chapter 1 of Revelation?), “in the Spirit on the Lord’s day” (Rev. 1:10; ESV) when he has his vision, which is to say, participating in the Divine Service.  He’s doing the same thing we’re doing here.  But then, his eyes are opened to see the reality in ways we are not given.  

And so, we have our reading from Revelation 7 this afternoon.  What is going on on the other side, as we are gathered here on this side, lauding and magnifying the Lord’s Name, basking in His saving presence with us?  They are doing the same thing we are.  Only they see Him.  A great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, tribe, people, and language.  They see Him, as they stand before His throne (the altar), clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands.  They are crying out.  They are praising Him.  And we join them.  And they join us.  One Holy Communion.  

Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?  These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation.  That is, they are dying and going to heaven.  Now, this is a tremendous reality.  You know some in that number.  You love them.  You ache over the empty space next to you in the pew, or at the family table.  These are not just the great saints of history and the Bible: Mary, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Augustine, Martin Luther (though it is them, too).  These include your spouse, your brother, your grandparents, your mom, or your dad.  Those who died in Christ, yet they live.  John sees them.  You see them through the preaching of St. John (now, also, blessedly part of that number).  They are coming out.  They suffer no more.  They are caught up in the surpassing joy and beauty of heaven.

What qualifies them for this?  What makes them righteous?  What makes them pure and holy?  In other words, what gives them the right to be in this exultant throng?  Not their own works.  That’s not what the text says.  What is it?  “They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (v. 14).  They are baptized into Christ.  They are joined to Christ by faith.  They have died with Christ, and so live in Him.  He is their righteousness.  He is their holiness and purity.  It is for His sake that they are given to take their place around the throne, singing their praise.  His blood washes their robes whiter than any bleach or fuller’s soap could make them (remember Jesus’ robes in the Transfiguration?).  The palms they are holding are the symbol of His victory over sin (He atoned for it… all of it!), over death (He is risen from the dead), and over the very devil (the serpent’s head is crushed!).  

And what are they doing, these saints?  Standing (we thought they were dead, but they’re standing, just like the mortally wounded Lamb around whom they are gathered!)... standing before the throne, and singing.  Praising.  With the angels, and the elders (the Apostles and Patriarchs), and the four living creatures (the Gospel writers).  Falling on their faces and worshiping God.  It’s the posture of humility.  The same reason we bow, or kneel, before God’s throne here in this place.  Serving Him day and night.  He is, after all, the King.  We’re joining the heavenly reality.

And what is God doing for them?  This is beautiful.  Always remember this, when you wonder about your loved ones in heaven.  He is sheltering them with His presence.  Such that they hunger no more, nor thirst anymore.  Such that the sun no longer strikes them, nor any scorching heat.  They suffer no lack.  The things that once afflicted them, afflict them no longer.  And they are guided by the Good Shepherd.  The Lamb Himself is their Shepherd.  He guides them to springs of living water (in fulfillment of the 23rd Psalm).  That is, refreshment.  Like an ice-cold glass of water on a hot summer day.  Replenishment.  Life.  The Spirit (the Lord and Giver of life).

            And then, the image I find most comforting.  He is wiping away every tear from their eyes.  Our Father stoops down to dry the tears of His children.  All the pain and sorrow they suffered here… all the brokenness of sin, the thorns and thistles, and the curse of death.  All the heartbreak.  Broken bodies.  Illnesses.  All the crafts and assaults of the devil.  Because Jesus was broken for us on the cross, and made whole in His resurrection, He now makes His people whole.  There, on that side.   

            This is such a comfort for us, this side of the veil, as we suffer the tribulation of this earthly life.  This is our future we’re hearing today.  And, in some sense, it’s our reality, now, through the preaching of the Gospel, even as we wait for the veil to be removed so we can see it with our own eyes.  And it is a comfort for us as we grieve the death of saints we’ve known and loved.  There they are.  With Jesus.  Which is to say, here they are.  With Jesus.  For, wherever Jesus is, there is heaven, and so the angels, the archangels, and all the company of heaven.  Which is to say, our loved ones who have died in Christ.

            We love to comfort ourselves with all sorts of silly ideas about death.  “That star up there is Grandma, shining down on us from heaven.  She can always see us (yikes!  Creepy!  I’m in the shower, Grandma!).  She is always listening when we talk to her (Oh, so you are for praying to the saints, now?  Where is that one in the Bible?).  Heaven gained another angel (is that what you learned about angels in Catechism?  That they are dead saints?  Isn’t that more like Highway to Heaven, or Looney Tunes theology?).  Ah, Grandma loved the snow, and it’s snowing today, so that must be a special message from Grandma (granted it’s January).”  I’m not making light of these silly sayings to hurt your feelings.  But it’s harder to teach you these things when we’re sitting by the deathbed, or at the funeral parlor.  Beloved, you have a better comfort than all of this schlock.  You have real comfort.  Your loved ones who have died in Christ join you, really and truly, here and now, around the throne of the Lamb.  As heaven comes down.  Do you remember the old Swedish Lutheran Church architecture, confessing this reality?  The altar rail formed a half circle around which God’s people knelt for the Supper.  And the idea was, the circle is completed on the other side of the altar… the other side of the veil… by the heavenly host who join us here.  Heaven comes down.

And then what?  Never forget what happens in the End.  The same thing that happened to Jesus on the Third Day.  When you attend a funeral, it is not a Christian funeral, unless this, specifically, is proclaimed.  What is it?  You know.  The resurrection of the body.  This body will rise.  The body of your loved one who died in Christ.  Your body.  Jesus, the Crucified but risen One, will call your body forth from the grave.  And all the bodies of all people.  Unbelievers to eternal death (Lord, have mercy).  But believers to eternal life with Him, in the New Creation.  And then, your empty, aching arms, will embrace your Christian loved ones again.  This is not a pious wish.  This is truth.  Even as Jesus, who is risen from the dead, is Truth.  

So, this day, you, too, get a peek behind the veil.  And it is beautiful.  Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and make it so.  Fully manifest.  Take away the veil.  We long for that Day.  We live for that Day.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.           

 

Reformation Day (Observed)

 Video of Service

Reformation Day (Observed)

October 25, 2026

Text: Rom. 3:19-28

            Five hundred years ago, Father Martin Luther had a son.  Not an illegitimate son, mind you, like so many priests and monks (and even a few popes) may have had.  A son with his lawfully wedded wife, Katharina.  Johannes… Hans… Luther.  Dr. Luther’s firstborn.  

            It is difficult for us to understand how revolutionary this was, and how important for the Reformation of the Holy Christian Church… for the cause of the very Gospel!  We’re used to ministers being married and having children.  At least we Protestants are.  It’s par for the course.  But we must remember that, for much of the Church’s history, and especially in the middle ages, there was this prevailing unbiblical opinion that married family life was less holy… and even, perhaps, a little bit dirty… compared to those “religious” (priests, monks, nuns) who took vows of celibacy.  Marriage had essentially become a Sacrament of concession for those who couldn’t live up to the requirements of Holy Orders (monastic and ordination vows).  Such that, by the time of Luther and the Reformation, it was more or less a given that monastics were far more likely to go directly to heaven when they died, as opposed to married people, who had less holiness, and more sin to purge in Purgatory (and, for the sake of clarity, let me just remind us all that Purgatory is not in the Bible, and is an anti-biblical, anti-Gospel doctrine, that robs Christ of His proper glory as the once-for-all-sufficient Sacrifice of Atonement for our sins.  He alone makes satisfaction!).  So, there was this distinction made between celibate monastics and the common people on the basis of works: Monastics are more righteous and holy before God by virtue of their works (including celibacy).  Married people are less righteous, because they need conjugal relief.  What would St. Paul say about such a distinction?  What does he say in our Epistle?  There “is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”... and that includes you Pharisees, and you monastics… and you good Christian folk (yes, we do it, too, whenever we think our goodness makes us more righteous than people who aren’t so good)… and all your shiny, holy works… you all fall short of the glory of God, “and are justified by his grace as a gift”... apart from your works, whatever they may be… “through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 3:22-24; ESV), and through that redemption alone.  There is no distinction.  All of us are in the same boat.  Sin, and therefore death and condemnation.  And if we are to be saved from that death and condemnation, and justified (declared righteous before God), it is the same way for all of us.  Grace, freely bestowed, by virtue of Christ’s redeeming work for us in His suffering and death on the cross.    

Now, there is no question that virginity is a high and holy calling.  And we’re all called to that unless, and until, we’re married (that is the expectation, beloved… that is God’s design, in spite of our culture-wide sexual brokenness, that we reserve sex for marriage, and keep our bodies, created and redeemed by God, pure).  But what does Jesus say on the subject?  Very few have the gift to remain celibate their whole life long.  When His disciples proposed that it is better not to marry, Jesus responded that not everyone can receive such a saying, but only those to whom it has been given by God (Matt. 19:10-12).  The usual law of nature, as St. Paul points out, is that men and women need to get married to each other, in order to avoid sexual temptation (1 Cor. 7:1-5).  For this reason, husbands and wives are not to withhold conjugal rights from each other, Paul says, unless for a short, agreed upon time, for the sake of prayer (v. 5).  And he says this, maintaining marriage as a high and holy calling of God, even as he holds up lifelong virginity as an extraordinary, albeit rare, gift of God (vv. 6-7).  

            Marriage is good.  We Lutherans don’t count it as a Sacrament, because it doesn’t bestow the forgiveness of sins, but marriage is instituted by God for our good: For mutual companionship and support, for procreation (children are good!), and for enjoyment of God’s good gift of sexuality.  Marriage even predates the Fall, doesn’t it.  God is the first Father to walk a bride down the aisle and give her away to a groom (Gen. 2:18-25).  And that bride and groom are already a picture of the Lord Jesus Christ and His Bride, the Church (Eph. 5:32), as are every Christian bride and groom since, such that Christian marriage is, in itself, a preaching of the Gospel!  High calling, indeed!  

And then, marriage even becomes a picture of the inter-Trinitarian life of love, when that love brings forth fruit… Babies!  Just as God, not out of necessity, but out of love, created.  Created man.  Created us.  In His own image.  To be the object of His love.  So He could love us.  When God gives a husband and wife to procreate (that is the word, by the way… let’s stop saying “reproduction.”  This isn’t a mechanized assembly line)… think about this, and marvel… that husband and wife are given to participate in God’s creative act!  To be instruments of it.  Can there be a higher and holier calling than that?

Now, of course, not everybody receives the gift of marriage.  And not everybody receives the gift of children, even if they are married.  And for some, this is a heavy cross, and so, very important that we say to you who bear such a cross: There is nothing deficient in you.  Yours, too, is a high and holy calling.  It’s not wrong to remain single, and not have children.  It’s also not wrong to pray that God would provide you a spouse and children, if you so desire.  Either way, your calling is to wait upon the Lord, and live fully, and faithfully, and joyfully, in Him.

            What we’re talking about is the doctrine of vocation.  Our callings from God.  We all have many vocations.  Our vocation is not just our job, but every relationship in which God has placed us in our station in life (your station in life is the place and the circumstances in which you find yourself).  Our number one vocation, of course, as Christians, is that of baptized child of God.  But then, flowing from that, just to take myself as an example, I am a husband, a father, a pastor, a son, a brother, a friend, a neighbor, a citizen… and the list goes on.  Same with you.  And one of the great truths recovered by the Reformation is the doctrine that those vocations, those divine callings, are as significant and holy as the calling into the priesthood or the convent.  Because there is no distinction.  Our righteousness comes from Christ.  Our good works do not contribute to our righteousness before God, but are done for the sake of our neighbor, in vocation!      

So again, think what a revolutionary thing it is, living, as he did, in this spiritual/cultural environment of the Middle Ages, that as a confession of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, Father Martin Luther took a wife, and they conceived a son.  Because being married, and raising a family, faithfully, according to God’s Word in Holy Scripture, is just as high and holy a vocation as clerical celibacy.  

We should add, by the way, that Rome has taken a higher view of marriage, thank God, since the Reformation (the Reformation was very good for Rome).  Although they’d do well to get rid of the requirement of priestly celibacy and monastic vows, because priests and monastics (as has been amply demonstrated, scandalously and publicly over the years) are all-too-human, and have all-too-human needs and desires.  Beloved, for a masterful treatment of this topic, go read our own Apology of the Augsburg Confession, Article XXIII, on the Marriage of Priests.  It is phenomenal, and surprisingly relevant to other issues of marriage and sexuality current in our time.  And let me say, here and now, before God and everybody: I thank God I’m a Lutheran pastor, and therefore lawfully (and happily!) married, with children.  And I thank God for my wife, without whom I couldn’t possibly be the pastor I am today, and for my children, who teach me every day how to be a better pastor and father (two vocations which very much go together!). 

Which is to say, that Martin Luther married and had a son 500 years ago, directly and substantially affects my life and ministry, and the life of the Christian Church, which is to say, the life of every Christian… your life.  Because, we can get married, or stay single.  We can have children, if God so blesses us.  And if God does not bless us in that way, we are just as blessed.  Church work is a blessed and holy vocation.  But you don’t have to do Church work to be just as righteous and holy before God as pastors, priests, monks, or nuns.  Every true Christian vocation is as holy as every other true Christian vocation.  Because our righteousness and holiness comes from Christ alone.  “For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight… For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law” (Rom. 3:20, 28).

Martin Luther had a son.  Oh, how he loved little Hans.  A gift of God, given by grace, for the exercise of faith, and faithfulness.  So it is with our vocations.  All praise and thanks to God.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.     

 

St. Luke, Evangelist

 Video of Service

St. Luke, Evangelist

October 18, 2026

Text: 2 Tim. 4:5-18

            “Luke alone is with me” (2 Tim. 4:11; ESV).

            St. Paul is in prison.  He is under the sentence of death.  This letter to Timothy is almost certainly the last writing we have from his pen.  He is already, he says, being poured out as a drink offering, an image that evokes both the Old Testament sacrifices upon which a libation was poured (thus a thing joined to the sacrificial victim), and the imminent pouring out of Paul’s own blood (the self-sacrifice of the Christian, joined to that Sacrifice which alone atones for our sins, the Lord Jesus on the cross).  He has fought the good fight.  He has finished the race.  Now, the waiting.  Waiting to see with his own eyes what, in his present circumstances, he only knows by faith.  The Lord, the Righteous Judge… crucified, but risen from the dead… living and reigning… awarding Paul the crown of righteousness… the righteousness of Jesus Himself, bestowed upon Paul as a free gift… and thus bestowed upon all what have loved His appearing, which is to say, you, who long to see Him (the Lord Jesus), and yearn for His coming.

We know we will see Him soon.  But the waiting can be awfully lonely.  “Luke alone is with me.”  Paul begs Timothy to come to him soon.  His other friends have been called away to ministry.  Crescens.  Titus.  Tychicus.  Or simply deserted him.  Demas was in love with this world, and so presumably scandalized, or terrified, by Paul’s chains.  Paul wants Mark to come, too.  And that is gratifying to hear.  Because this is John Mark, and last we heard, Paul and Barnabas had separated over the issue of whether to take Mark with them, he who had withdrawn from the mission when the going got tough (Acts 15:37-40).  Clearly, they were reconciled, now, before the end, before it was too late.  Let that be an example and inspiration to all of us. 

But now, Paul sits in his dungeon.  Lonely.  And cold.  Apparently winter is setting in.  Timothy, please bring my cloak!  And the knowledge that the time is short.  Bring my books and parchments.  There is work to be done.  And the reflection.  And the hurt.  Watch out of that Alexander, the Coppersmith.  He did me great harm.  God help him.  

And God help me.  He does.  Not even Luke was with me at my first defense.  No one came to stand by me.  Everyone here deserted me.  A little taste, I suppose, of what it was like for Jesus in the garden, when all His disciples fled.  A little taste of what it was like when the Savior stood alone before the Sanhedrin, and Herod, and Pontius Pilate.  And no one goes to the cross apart from the experience of utter abandonment.

“But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me” (2 Tim. 4:17).  Never forget those words, beloved.  When everything has been taken from you… when everyone else has abandoned you… Jesus has not.  He was forsaken on the cross for you, that you never be forsaken.  He stands by you in the time of trial.  He stands by you always.  And not just in spirit, whatever that may mean… as if He’s up in His heaven, far away from you, telling you He’s really rooting for you, and hopes you’ll make it.  No, no.  He is your Immanuel, “God-with-us.”  And He is a God of flesh and blood, so if He is with you, He is with you in the flesh.  You are never alone.  The Man, Jesus, who is Lord and God, and who loves you, stands by you.  Doing what?  Strengthening you.  By His Spirit, who is in you.  Reminding you of His Words.  So that you bear up.  So that, in you, Christ be seen by others.  That you bear witness to Him.  Even as Paul was strengthened to fully proclaim the Gospel to the Gentiles… to all who would hear it.  

And He rescues, this Lord who stands by you.  He rescued Paul from the lion’s mouth.  He rescues you, until the time appointed, when your death will bring Him glory, and deliver you to salvation.  He rescues from every evil deed, to bring you safely into His heavenly Kingdom.  That is the Promise.  That is the Lord you have.

But until then, the waiting.  And, yes, the loneliness.  “Luke alone is with me.”  But Luke is with him.  Beloved, the Lord gives us each other.  Do not despise that gift.  No Christian can do it alone.  Our Father sets the solitary in a home (Ps. 68:6).  In a Family.  The Church.  Your congregation.  Everyone around you at this moment is a gift from Jesus, whether you believe it or not.  You may as well believe it, and act like it, and receive them with thanksgiving, because, one day you will know the gifts you’ve taken for granted.  And you’re going to spend eternity with these dear people, and you will rejoice in them.  

So… dear Luke.  Luke is with him.  St. Luke, whose Feast we observe this day.  A physician (Col. 4:14).  Perhaps of the body.  And think how helpful that may have been to Paul, after all the beatings, stonings, shipwrecks, near-death (and maybe even real death and resurrection) experiences.  And now prison.  Hard time.  Doesn’t sound like comfortable house arrest anymore.  So maybe God gave Luke to Paul for the care of his bodily wounds, a worthy Christian enterprise, indeed.  In any case, Luke is a physician of the soul.  An evangelist.  A writer of the Gospel that bears his name, as well as authoring the Acts of the Apostles, the continuation of Jesus’ ministry in the life of His Church.  A careful historian.  He did his research.  He interviewed the sources.  The Apostles and other participants.  St. Mary (who else do you think gave him so many intimate details of the Christmas story?  Who else could tell him what Mary pondered in her heart?  What it was like to be sitting there one day, probably contemplating Isaiah’s prophecy about the virgin bearing a Son, and all at once, there’s Gabriel, saying to Mary, “that virgin is you!”  The head-scratching “how can this be?”  The frustration of no room in the inn.  The terror of losing 12 year old Jesus in Jerusalem.  These are Mom’s stories!).

From Luke, we get so many accounts of healing miracles.  That’s what we would expect from a medical doctor.  And the inclusion… the bringing in… of the outsider: Tax collectors and notorious sinners… women… foreigners (Gentiles).  Luke’s Gospel is actually a Catechism for Gentiles, like Theophilus, written precisely for the purpose of bringing those on the outside, in.  Undoubtedly Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, had something to do with this.  Luke, we need an account of Jesus’ ministry, death, and resurrection for all these people who are coming to faith from the nations.  Get busy!  Luke was not an Apostle, but he wrote his Gospel under the Apostolic authority of Paul.  Thank God!  

And there is this endearing detail in the Book of Acts that we should never miss.  Luke is writing the history of what happened to others.  Especially Peter and Paul.  When, suddenly, the pronoun switches from the 3rd Person (“he,” “they”) to the 1st Person Plural (“we”).  That is to say, Luke is with Paul.  A companion of Paul.  Given to Paul.  As a gift.  

“Luke alone is with me.”  Because it is not good that Paul should be alone.  Jesus gives Luke to Paul.  A friend.  A brother.  It’s a beautiful thing.

He gives Luke to us, too.  In his ministry, and in the words Luke wrote for us by inspiration of the Holy Spirit (more than one third of the New Testament!).  The physician, doing what he does, and what he is given to do.  Healing our souls by the Gospel.  Prescribing the blood of Jesus Christ as the Medicine of Immortality.  Saving our lives for eternity by immersing us in the death and resurrection of Christ.

And suddenly, it’s not so lonely.  For in hearing St. Luke, we hear the living voice of Jesus.  Jesus is with us.  Standing by us.  Strengthening us.  And the Word goes out.  And we are rescued from every evil, as Jesus brings us safely into His heavenly Kingdom.  “To him be the glory forever and ever” (2 Tim. 4:18).  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.                        

 

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

 Video of Service

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 23A)

October 11, 2026

Text: Matt. 22:1-14

            Who are these, so bold, so audacious, as to tell the King they have better things to do than attend the Wedding Feast of His Son?  The immediate audience for our Lord’s parable is once again made up of the Chief Priests and Pharisees.  This is the continuation of the sermon we heard Him preaching last week.  Only now, he is riffing on this morning’s Old Testament reading (Is. 25:6-9).  “Remember, dear shepherds of Israel, the Mountain of the LORD of hosts from the Prophet Isaiah?  The feast of rich food and well-aged wine?  We all know the Prophet is speaking of the Messianic age.  That is what will happen when the Kingdom arrives, when God’s Messiah comes.  Well, dear friends, guess what?  Here I AM!  And I have sent servant after servant, prophet after prophet, to tell you the Feast is prepared.  But now that it is here, you refuse to come in.  You have no desire.  And, in fact, you seize my servants, treat them shamefully, and kill them.  That’s what you do.  So, fine.  I won’t make you come in.  I won’t force you to rejoice and feast with Me in My Kingdom.  But be warned.  The troops are on their way to destroy you murderers and burn your city,” again, a reference to the coming destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70.  “But that won’t stop Me from giving My Feast.  I will invite others to take your place.  And they will rejoice and be satisfied with the good things from My Table, while you find yourself in the outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

            So, the original audience was the Jewish clergy.  But the Holy Spirit has preserved this parable also for our learning.  What is the application, what is the warning for us who hear it anew here this afternoon?  Of course, don’t seize your pastor, treat him shamefully, or kill him.  And don’t do that to any of the Lord’s servants, be they preachers of the Gospel, or other Christians who speak the Lord’s Word to you.  There are places in the world at this very moment where that is a very real danger.  And it may be here, too, in time to come.  But perhaps more to the point for us here and now, when you receive an invitation from the King, which is to say, from God, to the Wedding Feast of His Son (and you have, that’s why you’re here!)… don’t make excuses why you can’t come.  “Oh, sorry, business, you know,” or “family time,” or “I’m too tired.  Maybe next week.  I’ll get around to it one of these days.”  Or just, “I don’t want to!”  Whatever it is.  Guys, God invites you to His House to feast with His Son at His own Table.  That is what you believe, isn’t it?  I realize it’s all hidden under the ordinary, and unremarkable, and often downright scandalous, forms of words and water, bread and wine, a sad sack of flesh up in the pulpit, and a bunch of sad sacks sitting next to you in the pews.  But you know that things are not as they appear.  Not in Christ.  So, don’t excuse yourself.  Don’t miss this.  Because you don’t have to come.  God will not force you.  And you know what happens to those who refuse.  So, that is the warning.  Come to Church.  Come into the presence of Jesus.  Come into His Wedding Feast.  This is the foretaste.  This is the appetizer.  This is the vestibule to the Royal Estate.  Soon enough you will see the splendor in all its fulness.  It is just the other side of the veil. 

            And think about this… Who are these others, these tramps on the road, invited, now, to take the place of the original guests at the Son’s Wedding Feast?  These are, of course, the Gentiles, to whom the Gospel is preached, now brought in and included in God’s people, Israel.  Well, that’s you.  See, both Jews and Gentiles, all who do not refuse Him… even, Jesus says, “both bad and good” (Matt. 22:10; ESV), that is, notorious sinners and respectable citizens, these are invited into the Kingdom, into the Feast, by the preaching of the Gospel, that the hall may be filled with guests.  That is, by the way, the program of the Kingdom.  Preach the Gospel to all, without distinction.  Bring in more guests.  All who will come.  Now, whether they come, or not, that’s up to the Spirit, not us.  But we’d love to fill this place to capacity, and then some.  Baptize them.  Catechize them.  Bring them into the fulness of the Feast.  That’s what we’re given to do as Christ’s Body on earth.  That’s why He hasn’t already come years ago and put an end to all of this.  For the sake of those who have yet to hear, and believe, and come into the Feast. 

            The “bad,” though… they are not left bad.  And the “good” must not be left in their own goodness.  One and all must come to see that their own clothes… be they soiled, torn, and tattered (the bad), or brand new, dry-clean-only, designer brand (the good)… their own clothes are insufficient, unsatisfactory, inappropriate for this Feast.  But, not to fear.  In the world of the Gospels, when one was invited to a prestigious wedding feast, the host would provide the appropriate garment for his guest.  The host would cover the guest in fitting apparel.  That is what God does for you in Holy Baptism.  That is what you receive by faith.  The analogy is this: You come to God’s Kingdom with your own garments, soiled with obvious sin, or as clean as human works can get them, it doesn’t matter.  You fall somewhere on the righteousness spectrum.  But it isn’t good enough.  You are a sinner.  You have sin.  You are not perfectly righteous, which is what God demands.  Your clothes aren’t good enough.  So God strips you of your shameful garments, your pitiful unrighteousness, and covers you instead with the spotless robe, the perfect righteousness of His Son, Jesus.  St. Paul puts it this way: “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Gal. 3:27).  And again, “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires” (Rom. 13:14), that is, don’t pick up again your old, ratty clothes.  Even the designer ones are nothing but filthy rags before the Lord.  And the Lord Jesus has taken them away, to be put to death in His flesh on the cross.  Those are clothes of death.  But here are resurrection clothes, robes of righteousness, washed white in the blood of the Lamb, which the Lord Himself freely gives you.  Be covered.  Be cleansed. 

            Well, this explains the man found without a wedding garment, doesn’t it?  It’s not that he wasn’t legitimately invited in, and the Lord even calls him, “Friend” (Matt. 22:12… Reminds us of someone else the Lord called “Friend,” doesn’t it, who had thrown away the Savior’s invitation, to conduct his own business [thirty pieces of silver worth], to go to his own place?  Matt. 26:50).  It is also not that he was expected to have a wedding garment of his own.  The King had provided the garment for him.  So it must be that he cast it off.  Or refused even to put it on.  He insisted on wearing his own clothes.  Like the Chief Priests and Pharisees, like the self-righteous among us, he insisted he attend the Feast on his own merit.  But it doesn’t work that way.  Everyone here is here at the King’s mercy.  Everyone here is here by grace, that is, by the King’s unmerited favor.  Your own righteousness will get you thrown out into the outer darkness.  But Christ’s righteousness, freely given, distributed to one and all alike in His preaching and gifts, will get you a place at His Table at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb in His Kingdom which has no end. 

            Rich food and well-aged wine.  Flesh full of marrow, and aged-wine well-refined.  Nothing but the best.  And the Bride in all her blood-bought splendor, which is to say, Lady Church.  And then, the Bridegroom.  He has swallowed up death forever, and all that goes along with it.  All violence.  All sickness.  All sadness.  All pain.  Here He is, our Bridegroom, the Royal Son, present with us at the Feast.  And we join the festal shout: “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation” (Is. 25:9).

            Beloved, to be a Christian is not to balk at the invitation to this Feast, or to list off the reasons why you can’t (or more accurately, don’t want to) attend.  No.  It is to “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice” (Phil. 4:4).  “The Lord is at hand” (v. 5), and so, in spite of all that our eyes may see, we are well, and all is good.  Do you know what is true, what is honorable, what is just and pure?  Do you know what is lovely and commendable, what is excellent and worthy of praise?  It is all from the Lord, and it flows from the altar.  Think about these things.  Set your mind on them.  And then, clothed with Jesus, receive them from His hand.  This whole Royal Feast is for you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.         

 

Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

 Video of Service

Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 22A)

October 4, 2026

Text: Is. 5:1-7; Matt. 21:33-46

            “What more was there to do for my vineyard, that I have not done for it?” (Is. 5:4; ESV).

            The Master of the House is God.  The Vineyard is Israel.  And the tenants who lease the Vineyard are the leaders of the Jews: The scribes, the Pharisees, the priests… as well as the kings, in days of old… those from whom God should rightly expect fruit.  Faith.  Total dependence on Him.  To the exclusion of all other gods.  To the exclusion of self-reliance and self-justification.  And love.  Love for God.  Love for the neighbor.  Love that therefore lives, and orders the whole life, according to God’s will as revealed in His Commandments.  Love that orders the whole life toward self-giving service to those around you.  Do you see what the fruit, finally, is?  The whole self, rendered to God, not as slave, but as son.  

But the tenants rendered God no fruit.  So, He sent His servants… the prophets.  Prophet after prophet.  To call the people back to Himself.  Back to faith.  Back to love.  Some they beat.  Some they killed.  Some they stoned.  They were rejecting… not just the men God sent… but God Himself.  Rejecting His Word.  Rejecting His right to the Vineyard and its fruit.  And, it’s befuddling, isn’t it?  What should God have done after even one servant was abused, never mind killed? Obliterate those wretches! Fire and brimstone.  Righteous wrath.  But He doesn’t.  He just keeps sending.  Prophet after prophet.  Preacher after preacher.  Calling to repentance.  Calling to faith.  

And, so longsuffering is our God, that finally, what does He do?  He sends His Son.  He says to Himself, “They will respect my son” (Matt. 21:37).  Now, we know how this is going to end.  But the great mystery is, so does He!  But He does it, anyway!  Jesus comes.  The Son of God.  He comes to the tenants, pleading for fruit.  How many interactions does Jesus have with the Pharisees and the Sadducees?  Why all the confrontations?  Because He loves them!  He is calling them back.  He wants them for His own.  

But what do they do?  They say, “This is the heir.  Come, let us kill him and have his inheritance” (v. 38).  “If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation” (John 11:48).  They’ll take away the inheritance.  Ah, but if we kill Him, the place and nation will be ours.  So… “Crucify, crucify him!” (Luke 23:21).  And that’s what they do.  They lead Him out of the city… they cast Him out of the Vineyard… and kill Him!  Therefore, what will the Owner of the Vineyard… God… do to them?  The Jews themselves testify: “He will put those wretches to a miserable death and let out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the fruits in their seasons” (Matt. 21:41).  And so it is.  In AD 70, the Romans come and take away their place and their nation.  Jerusalem is sacked.  The Temple is once and for all destroyed.  

Bad news for the Jews.  But good news for us.  Christ, who was crucified, is risen.  And now the Gospel goes out to the whole world… to the nations.  And all who believe in Him, Jew and Gentile… those who will give Him the fruits in their season: Faith toward God, and fervent love toward one another, which is to say, Christians, who surrender their very selves to God… they get the inheritance!  We get the inheritance.  Because the Son was killed.  Yet, behold, the Son lives.  God will let out the Vineyard to others, the Jewish leaders prophesy.  We are the others.  

Now, a warning here: Don’t let this text (or any text in the Bible) become an occasion for arrogance over against the Jews.  First of all, God loves the Jews.  God chose them to be His holy people in the Old Testament.  As Paul reminds us, what advantage has the Jew?  Much in every way: To them belong the oracles of God (Rom. 3:1-2)... the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the Law, the worship, and the promises (9:4)… “To them belong the patriarchs, and from their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is God over all, blessed forever.  Amen” (v. 5).  And “the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable” (11:29).  Second, many Jews came to believe in Christ, including the Twelve and St. Paul and the whole Church immediately post-resurrection, while many Gentiles were included in the killing of the Son: Pontius Pilate, the Roman soldiers… us!  (There is the excruciatingly beautiful scene in Mel Gibson’s, The Passion of the Christ, where the hand that drives in the nails is his own!  That is profound.  We crucified Him by our sins).  Third, we Gentiles must always remember (as St. Paul says, using another illustration from husbandry) that, though some branches of the olive tree of Israel were broken off, that we may be grafted in, nevertheless, the roots are the children of Israel.  And we were grafted in by grace.  By no merit or worthiness of our own.  And if the natural branches were broken off for failing to bear fruit, the same will assuredly happen to the wild olive branches (us!) grafted in if we forsake our God-given faith.  And we pray that those natural branches will be grafted back in.  The Church used to regularly pray for the conversion of the Jews.  Maybe we should start doing that again!  

And the point is this: There is no room in the Christian Church for antisemitism.  Take that deeply into your heart, because antisemitism is a trend these days among people both left and right, and we are so deceived by our political allegiances.  We can argue about policy toward Israel versus the Palestinians, but you are not to hate the Jews, whom God loves.  Jesus Christ is a Jew.  Enough said.

When we hear this parable, we are to marvel at God’s great grace, not only toward the Jews, but toward us!  The Vineyard has been given to us… all Christians, Jew and Gentile.  And now, His longsuffering is directed toward us.  He sends His servants: Preacher after preacher.  The Gospel is proclaimed.  Sinners’ sins are washed away as one-time rebels are baptized into Christ.  The Absolution is declared.  The body and blood of Christ… the fruit of the Vine… the cup of blessing, the wine of joy… these are distributed right here at this Table, and on Altars throughout all Christendom.  We keep sinning, but our Lord Jesus Christ keeps calling us back, in repentance and faith, by His Word and Spirit.  He keeps forgiving.  Keeps grafting us in.  Keeps restoring us to the Father.  

Those who receive His Word, receive Him.  They fall upon the Stone the builders rejected.  Yes, they are crushed to pieces.  But that is to say, they die to themselves in repentance, to be raised up to new life in Christ.  But woe to those who reject this Word.  They join the builders in rejecting the Lord Jesus.  And on them the Stone falls, and crushes them in eternal damnation.

Oh, beloved… let us sing for our Beloved our love song concerning His Vineyard (Is. 5:1).  What more could He have done for her… for us?  “For us… For us… For us…”  “For us baptized, for us He bore His holy fast and hungered sore; For us temptation sharp He knew; For us the tempter overthrew.  For us He prayed; for us He taught; For us His daily works He wrought, By words and signs and actions thus Still seeking not Himself but us.  For us by wickedness betrayed, For us, in crown of thorns arrayed, He bore the shameful cross and death; For us He gave His dying breath.  For us He rose from death again; For us He went on high to reign; For us He sent His Spirit here To guide, to strengthen, and to cheer” (LSB 544:3-6).  What more could He have done?  He does it all.  

And so, here you are in the Vineyard.  How the Lord loves you!  He brought you here.  Never take that for granted.  And, for God’s sake, don’t reject it.  Here, God has planted you.  Here, He tends and nourishes you.  Roots grown deep.  Branches of the Vine.  Life-giving sap flowing to you, and through you, in the means of grace.  And fruit.  Faith.  Fervent love.  Your very self… a son in the Son of God, Jesus Christ.  So it is in the Kingdom of God.  This is the Lord’s doing.  It is marvelous in our eyes.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.          

 

Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

 Video of Service

Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 20A)

September 20, 2026

Text: Matt. 20:1-16

            They were picked first, early in the morning, 6 am.  They went into the Vineyard, and they got to work.  As a matter of fact, they worked twelve hours straight.  They bore the burden of the day, and the scorching heat.  If you’ve ever worked sunrise to sunset on a farm (I haven’t, but I have it on good authority), you have some idea of what that is like.  The dust.  The heat.  The aching muscles.  This was no walk in the park.  

And at first, perhaps, they were relieved when, at 9 am (the third hour), more workers came into the Vineyard.  And again at noon, and 3 pm, and even some more an hour before quitting time.  Because there is this pressure to get as much work done as possible during the daylight hours.  More workers, more to share in the burden.  Although the first workers, naturally, felt they had some seniority.  And humanly speaking, they were right.  

What they forgot, though, is that apart from the grace of the Master who called them, they’d still be standing in the marketplace, idle, unemployed, and probably starving.  Destitute.  These were day laborers.  That meant they had no permanent employment situation.  They came to the marketplace each day, hoping someone would pick them.  This Master came along and hired them all.  He agreed with them for a denarius a day.  And that is just.  A denarius is the typical day’s pay for a laborer.

Now, those who came late to the marketplace received even more grace, it is true.  They’d really missed the boat.  With each succeeding hour it is less and less likely there will be any employment that day.  Maybe that’s the point.  Maybe their heart just wasn’t in it.  Maybe they didn’t really want to work. Still, here comes the Master, and He hires them all.  He calls them into the Vineyard.  Gift.  Grace.

But it’s when the time comes to distribute the wages that things really take an unexpected turn.  Those who worked only one hour?  They are given a full denarius!  They haven’t earned it, and everybody knows it.  Even they, surely, expected far less than a full day’s pay.  Now, this tells us something extraordinary about the Master.  He’s crazy!  He is recklessly generous.  Gracious.  Gratuitously distributing His gifts to those who don’t deserve it.  

Those who worked three hours, six hours, nine hours… same thing!  A full denarius.  A full day’s pay.  Amazing!  And then… those who worked the full twelve hours, backbreaking labor under a hot sun.  Surely the Master  will give us even more.  But what do they get?  A denarius.  A day’s pay.  The wage they agreed to in the beginning.

“It’s not fair!”  What’s not fair?  That you were called into the Vineyard, when otherwise, you would have been left standing in the marketplace, idle all day, hungry and penniless?  That the Master gave you a place and a purpose and a wage you otherwise would not have had?  Yes, you worked harder and longer than the others.  Don’t think that goes unseen.  There will be more work tomorrow, and if you want it, you will have a place here again, and more wages.  You will be well provided.  Perhaps those who came late will show up early, now, too.  They were given more grace, because they needed more grace.  The Master has been exceedingly gracious to one and all.  He didn’t have to hire anyone.  But He did.  He hired you.  Now, if you begrudge Him His generosity… literally, if your eye is evil because He is good… that is, when you see His goodness toward others, you begin to think evil of Him… then fine.  Take what belongs to you, and go.  But you know what belongs to you?  Apart from the Master?  Idleness.  Unemployment.  Destitution.  The denarius will be spent, and then what?  You’ll be left with nothing.  

Well, that’s all great, but how does this apply to us as we hear it today?  The Vineyard is the Kingdom.  The Master is God.  We are the workers, called into the Vineyard by the Holy Spirit in the Gospel.  Some of us were called when we were baptized as babies.  And we never left.  We’ve been here from the first hour, and we’ve served here in the Kingdom all along.  Giving our offering.  Boards and committees.  Ushers.  Sunday School teachers.  You name it.  We’ve done it.  Some of us came later, as youth, or adults.  Maybe we didn’t serve in all those capacities.  Maybe we left and, by God’s grace alone, were called back again in repentance.  Some even came in the eleventh hour.  That is, at life’s end.  Like the thief on the cross.  We shouldn’t count on that, by the way, but we should rejoice when it happens.  One hears the Gospel, and heeds the call, so very late.  And they enter the Vineyard, and do what they can.  But perhaps that isn’t much at this point in their life.  Still, they’re in it.

And to be in it, that’s the point.  Beloved, you don’t want the Master to be fair.  You don’t want God to treat you as you deserve.  The most chilling words in our Holy Gospel are these: “Take what belongs to you and go” (Matt. 20:14; ESV).  What belongs to you?  Apart from the Master?  Sin.  Death.  Eternal condemnation.  “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 6:23).  The free gift of God is to be given a place, and a purpose, and a life in His Kingdom.  You don’t want what belongs to you.  You want what belongs to Christ.  You don’t want to be told to take your things and go.  You want to be told to take Jesus’ things and stay.

And the work?  You’re not earning anything by it.  The work, too, is actually a gift of the Master’s grace.  You are given to tend the Vineyard, to steward the Kingdom, like Adam and Eve in Paradise.  You are given to do this in your daily life and vocation, as you live, love, and serve those around you in your areas of responsibility.  And here at Church. Beloved… look what you’ve been given!  In addition to the treasure that is Augustana Lutheran Church, and the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, and the holy Christian Church of all times and places… you’ve been given to be a steward of it.  A caretaker.  As though it’s your very own.  Because, in Jesus, it is.

That looks different for every one of us.  A couple of us in the room are pastors.  But there are also elders and council members and Sunday School teachers in our midst.  There are those whose work is to pray for their pastors, and for the Church, for their brothers and sisters in Christ, and for the world (and oh, how we need that!  What a precious and holy work!).  There are those who toil, and those who sing, and those who bring an offering, and those who show mercy and compassion to dear people in need.  And so much more.  Every last one of us has a place.  Every last one of us is given a position from which to steward.  And it is all gift.  It is all grace.  Don’t look with a jealous eye toward somebody else and the grace God has given them.  Never resent a brother or sister in Christ.  Rejoice in them.  Rejoice your common salvation.  Rejoice in the death of Christ that takes away all your sins.  Rejoice in His resurrection from the dead that brings you into His life and Kingdom.  

He built this, right?  He bore the burden of our sin and the heat of God’s wrath.  Behold Him on a Friday afternoon, beaten, bloodied, languishing.  Pierced for our transgressions.  Crushed for our iniquities.  He takes what belongs to us and goes… to the cross.  Water and blood seeping from His sacred body into the accursed ground.  Penetrating the clay.  Hydrating the dust.  Softening the hard heart.  Driving out thorn and thistle.  Enlivening dead seeds so that they sprout.  Roots grown deep.  Life shooting up from the belly of the earth.  The Lord is risen.  Branches now growing from the Vine.  Nourishing sap flowing to the extremities.  Pruning, yes.  The cross touches every branch.  That is, there is suffering to be borne.  But now look.  Blossoms.  Fruit.  Luscious fruit.  Clusters of ripe, juicy grapes.  Overflowing wine.  Christian love.  Faith and hope.  Joy.  Life!

Well… what a gift it is, simply to be here.  You know, the Vineyard, as it is manifested here, in this place… it’s a beautiful thing.  The Gospel preached and heard and believed.  Nourishment from the Altar.  Zeal in witness.  A loving Church Family.  A House (even if it is just a rental at this point).  A Home.  No room for grumbling about what God gives others.  No room to resent those likewise called.  Beloved, whenever you enter this Sanctuary, say this prayer (or one like it): Lord, I’m just thankful to be here.  With everyone else, who is thankful to be here.  Thank You for calling me.  I don’t deserve it.  But Jesus does.  Let me take what belongs to Jesus and stay, for His sake.  And God says to you, “Friend… Yes!  Enter into the joy of your Master.  Welcome Home.”  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.