Sixth Sunday of Easter

 Video of Service

Sixth Sunday of Easter (A)

May 10, 2026

Text: John 14:15-21

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

            “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15; ESV).  Simple enough, on the face of it, though perhaps we ought to pause and meditate on a couple of these words.  Namely, “keep.”  What does that mean?  Sure, it means to obey.  It also means to guard, or observe.  But when this verb (“keep”) has as its object the precious words of God (as it does in this case), we should think of it as, “to treasure.”  “If you love me,” Jesus says, “you will treasure my commandments.”  Which, of course, includes obeying, guarding, and observing... but so much more!  We follow the example of Mary, who treasured up all these things, and pondered them in hear heart (Luke 2:19, 51).  That is what we do with Words from God.  Treasure them. 

            And that leads us to the second word on which we should pause and meditate.  Commandments.  Not just the Law of God, the things we should do and shouldn’t do (like the Ten Commandments).  But all the things God says in the Scriptures.  All the things Jesus said and taught, and continues to say and teach in the Gospels, and through His Prophets and Apostles.  It is as we hear at the end of Matthew’s Gospel (28:19), that we go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and then what?  “Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you” (v. 20; KJV).  All things whatsoever.  So what do we treasure if we love Jesus?  All His Words.  Every last one of them.  Law and Gospel.  The things we like, and the things we don’t like.   The things we understand, and the many things we don’t understand.  We treasure them up, and ponder them in our hearts.  We hear them, read them again and again, mark them, learn them (memorize them!), and inwardly digest them.  Because they are precious to us.  Because they are the Words of the One we love more than anything, or anyone.  Because they are the Words of the One who loved us to His own sacrificial death for us on the cross, and who is risen, and lives, and gives us life, making us His own.

            I remember so well, when Sarah and I were first dating... long distance... the pure thrill of receiving a handwritten letter from her in the mail.  You kids these days...  I’m afraid you’re missing out on this.  I would go find a quiet place to open the letter.  And I would read it, and savor it.  And I would put it in my breast pocket, right next to my heart, for the rest of the day.  And I would take it out, whenever I had a minute, and read it again.  It was wonderful.  I must have been walking around with a stupid smile on my face whenever that happened, because I had one friend who would see me walking down the hall, and... “She sent you a letter, didn’t she?!”  Yes.  See, I loved her (still do, by the way).  So I treasured her words.  That’s what love does. 

            You and I, we love Jesus.  But we do have a difficulty with what He says in the rest of the verse, don’t we?  How are you doing at treasuring His Words?  How are you doing at keeping His Commandments?  You know, the Christian wants to... to treasure... to keep.  Why is it so hard?  Why do we always think we have better things to do than listen to, and ponder, all the things He says to us?  Why are we so impatient with the Word?  Why do we so easily turn our minds to other things while the sound of Jesus’ Words beats on our ear drums, or our eyes scan the page?  And why do we have so much trouble putting His Word into practice?  Why do we constantly do the things He says not to do?  And not do the things He says to do?  Well... you know why.  Though He has rescued you from sin, death, and the devil, by His own death on the cross, and resurrection from the dead... Though you are baptized into Christ, and so regenerated and renewed (that is why you love Jesus!  You wouldn’t love Him, otherwise.  You couldn’t!)... Though you are a beloved child of the heavenly Father, and an heir of the Kingdom of heaven... Though all of that is true... you know in your very bones the paradox of the Christian life in this fallen world: Simul iustus et peccator.  What does that mean?  Do you remember?  “At the same time righteous (justified, saint) and sinner.”  Perfectly righteous in Christ, who covers you with His blood and death and life.  But in and of yourself... sinner. 

            That is the difficulty, and it’s so frustrating.  Why did I do that?  I hate that about me!  And why didn’t I do that?  I know that’s what my Jesus wants of me!  We have this internal dialogue all the time.  St. Paul had it, too.  “I do not understand my own actions.  For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Rom. 7:15; ESV).  But too often it turns into plain old self-loathing.  Which is not repentance, by the way.  It’s actually a sin.  Why?  Because we’re trying to punish ourselves... to pay off our sins... or be sorry enough that we’ll deserve God’s forgiveness.  No.  Knock that off the minute you recognize it.  Instead, turn it into prayer.  Lament.  Complaint.  Lord, why did I do that thing you said not to?  Why did I not do the thing you said to do?  Why can’t I sit for fifteen minutes and listen to Your Word, when I’ll happily sit for three hours and watch baseball?  Forgive me, Lord.  Forgive me, my Jesus.  I love you.  You love me.  Give me to treasure Your Words, ponder them in my heart, and put them into practice in my life.  He will.  He hears.  It’s true, you won’t do it perfectly, this side of the veil.  But He will work in you.  Trust Him. 

Because, this is the Promise: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth” (John 14:16-17).  That is the Promise fulfilled for the Church on Pentecost, in the sending of the Holy Spirit (notice, by the way, how these final Sundays of Easter are building up to the Day of Pentecost!).  And it is fulfilled for you, personally, in your Baptism, and in your every encounter with God’s Means of Grace, the Word and Sacraments.  “Another Helper,” He says... The word is Paraclete.  Which means Helper, certainly, but also Counselor, Comforter, Advocate... literally, the One you call to your side in time of need, when you need just that.  That is the Holy Spirit.  And what does He do for you?  Jesus says He dwells in you, and is in you.  So that you always have His help, and his counsel, and comfort, and advocacy.  And He is active in you, to work faith in Jesus.  To strengthen that faith.  To work love in you for Jesus, and so for the Father, and so for Himself.  And so, for your neighbor.  To remind you of all the things Jesus says.  To bring those things constantly before your ears and your eyes.  To work meditation on those things.  The treasuring of them.  The pondering.  And so, the practice.  Fruits of faith.  Works of love.  The Commandments. 

            The world thinks this is all ridiculous.  By “world,” here, we mean unbelievers.  Those who don’t love Jesus, and so don’t treasure His words.  Don’t let that be you, beloved.  The only reason we’re not part of that world is that this Spirit has called us out of it, taken possession of us, and given us faith in Christ, and ears to hear His Word.  The world doesn’t see or know the Spirit.

            But you do.  Because He has called you by the Gospel.  Enlightened with His gifts.  Sanctified and kept you in the one true faith.  All by grace.

            And Jesus?  Removed from your earthly sight, for a time, to be sure.  He told the disciples they wouldn’t see Him for a little while (His death and burial), and then they would (His resurrection), but this also applies to us, because He has ascended into heaven, where He sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.  So you can’t see Him with your eyeballs.  Still, you see Him by faith.  He does not leave you as orphans.  He manifests Himself to you.  He comes to you.  In fact, here He is.  His voice, speaking to you in His Word.  His body.  His blood.  Given and shed for you, now fed to you in His Supper.  He is in you.  And you are immersed in Him (Baptism). 

            And that is exactly what He says as He preaches to us in this text, isn’t it?  His very life is in us.  We live because He lives, because we are in Him, and He is in us.  And because He is in the Father, and we are in Him, we, too, are in the Father.  And the Spirit, proceeding from them both (notice, again, how these final Sundays in Easter are driving toward the Feast of the Holy Trinity!).  Beloved, look at your baptismal reality.  You’ve been taken up into the Life and Communion of our Triune God.  Loved by Him.  And so, loving Him.  And treasuring His every Word. 

            “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”  If you love me, you will treasure my Words.  We do.  We do, Lord.  Continue to grant us your Spirit, that we may love You more and more.  And so, treasure ever more deeply, every Word You say.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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

Fifth Sunday of Easter

 Video of Service

Fifth Sunday of Easter (A)

May 3, 2026

Text: John 14:1-14

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

            This is one of those Gospel texts so rich in the articles of our faith (Jesus is catechizing His disciples on the night before He dies), we cannot possibly do it all justice.  But for our purposes today, I’d like to call your attention to four particular points:

            First, the Lord Jesus has prepared a place for you in His Father’s House, in the Family of God.  We often read this text at funerals, because here is the surpassing comfort that Jesus prepares a place for us in heaven when we die.  That is wonderful.  But don’t just limit it to that.  He has also prepared a placed for you right here and now in the holy Church, in the congregation of His saints.  A home.  A family.  A place just for you at His Table, where He doles out His gifts, breathing His life and Spirit into you in His Word, washing you at the font and in the Holy Absolution, and feeding you with His true body and blood from His altar.  And He has prepared a place for you, eternally... not just as a spirit in heaven, but bodily, in the New Creation, in the New Heavens and the New Earth, when He raises up you and all the dead, and gives eternal life to you and all believers in Christ.  (These are not different places, by the way, but different phases, if you want, of the same place... namely, the presence of God!).  See in this why you need not be troubled (as Jesus says); why you can simply believe in God (trust Him!), and also in His dear Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.  You have a place where you belong, where you are wanted and loved beyond imagination, and even death cannot take it away from you (or you away from it).  Now, this is not simply a general invitation.  Jesus has prepared this place specially for you.  How?  By His coming into your flesh.  By His sinless life for you, fulfilling His Law.  By His sin-atoning death for you.  By His victorious resurrection for you.  And now, by His glorious ascension into heaven for you, where He sits, in flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone, in the Seat of authority, at God’s right hand, ruling for you, interceding for you, and guiding you by His Word and Spirit, so that you come to the place where He is.  He prepares your place by blazing the trail in His flesh... our flesh.  So, that is the first point.  Jesus prepares a place.  For you.  A Home.  With the Father.  With our Lord.  With the Spirit.  Where you belong.  Where God Himself wants you to be for the rest of eternity.

            Second, Jesus is the Way to that place.  You know the Way, because you know Jesus.  Stick with Jesus, and you’ll go to the place He has prepared.  Thomas asks the question, how we can know the Way, and we’re glad he does, because now we can know.  Jesus answers with one of the seven great “I AM” statements in John’s Gospel (His claim to divinity), undoubtedly one you learned by heart in Sunday School or Catechism class: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6; ESV).  Now, He is the only Way.  This is why we want everyone to know Him, and why we want to make sure we know Him and stick with Him, because, as he says, “No one comes to the Father except through me.”  That is called the scandal of particularity in theology, the biblical teaching that only in Jesus of Nazareth do we have eternal life and salvation.  It is not the case (contrary to popular belief) that all religions lead to God.  There is only one, because it is the religion given by God, and that is Christianity.  Beloved, you’ve been given that.  That is an amazing thing.  Give it to those who don’t know it, by speaking it (confessing), praying for those who don’t have it, and inviting them here for an encounter with Jesus.  (And, of course, raise your kids in it!)  He is THE Truth.  Many things are true, but He is the very definition of Truth.  Whatever else is true is only true in relation to Him, and He is the Source of all Truth (even the quadratic equation and the second law of thermodynamics... all truth... He is the Source).  And He is the Life.  “In him was life,” John says, “and that life was the light of men” (John 1:4).  There is no life apart from Him.  Only eternal death.  Hell.  This is serious business.  So, stick with Him.  Be in Him.  Which is to say, always in His Word and gifts. 

            Third, when you do know Jesus, you know the Father.  Philip makes the request for us, here.  “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us” (John 14:8).  But we have to understand, we cannot see God in His unveiled glory, in nudas maiestas (His bare majesty).  If we did, we would die (“man shall not see me and live,” says the LORD [Ex. 33:20]).  But Jesus is God veiled in human flesh.  That is what we sing at Christmas: “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, Hail the incarnate Deity” (LSB 380:2).  Jesus is the revelation of the Father.  So, He says, to Philip and to us, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9).  Now, we understand that, in human terms.  We often say of a human father and son, when they look alike, or share very similar traits, “if you’ve met the father, you’ve met the son.”  But here, in Jesus and His heavenly Father, we encounter an infinitely more profound mystery, that of the Trinity in Unity, and Unity in Trinity.  “I am in the Father and the Father is in me,” Jesus says (v. 10).  Or, as He says earlier in John, “I and the Father are one” (10:30).  (And, of course, that is revealed to us by the Spirit, who is also one with the Father and the Son, and so, here is the Holy Trinity, a mystery beyond our comprehension.)  In Jesus, though... in the Son, the Second Person of the Trinity, who takes on our flesh... God becomes tangible and available to our finite and fallen senses. 

            Now, it is true, unlike Philip and Thomas and the rest, we don’t have the advantage of seeing Jesus with our bodily eyes.  But where do we see Him?  And how?  With our ears in His Words.  We feel Him with our nerve endings as we’re drenched in the water of life (Baptism).  And then there is the Supper, where we hear what He says of the bread and wine, that they are His very body and blood, given and shed on the cross for our forgiveness, life, and salvation, here and now given us to eat and drink.  And so we use our senses of sight and touch as we receive Him in our mouths.  And we taste and see that the Lord is good as we eat and drink.  And we even smell it, don’t we?  In the Cup.  In the breathing of our fellow Christians.  When I leave the altar with the Lord’s blood on my breath, I often think of something St. John Chrysostom said: “The Eucharist is a fire that inflames us, that, like lions breathing fire, we may retire from the altar being made terrible to the devil.”  Or, quite literally, what St. Paul wrote: “we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life” (2 Cor. 2:15-16).  He wasn’t specifically speaking about the Supper, but that is where the fragrance is infused.

            What do you see (hear, taste, smell) of the Father when you see Jesus in this way?  That He is not, for you, a God of wrath and vengeance, out to get you for your sins.  But a God who loves you.  He is your Father.  And you are His child.  So that He sends Jesus... gives His only-begotten Son, Jesus... as the price for your redemption, to save you and make you His own.  You would not know that God apart from Jesus.  Jesus is the only Way to know that.  Jesus is, as Dr. Luther says in the Large Catechism, a “mirror of the fatherly heart.”[1]

            Okay, fourth, and finally... Whoever knows Jesus, and so knows God... Whoever is on the Way, and in the Truth, and a liver of the Life... Whoever has such a place in the Father’s House, prepared by Jesus Himself... that one will do the works that Jesus does, and even greater works than these.  Now, in terms of the Apostles, we see this in their ministry in the Book of Acts.  They literally do the things Jesus did during His earthly ministry, complete with signs and wonders, miraculous healings, spiritual gifts, and even sacrificial deaths.  The apostolic ministry is a continuation of Jesus’ ministry.  But this is also true (albeit in an often dramatically less spectacular way) of the ministry of the Church.  You.  We, who have a place here in this House, continue the ministry of Jesus... how?  As we preach the Gospel, and serve as His hands and feet... His masks... in our various vocations and stations in life.  In other words, when we speak His Word, and love with His love.  This is what He means, by the way, when He says that whatever we ask in His Name, He will do it (John 14:13-14).  It’s not a promise to be a divine vending machine, or some kind of genie granting wishes.  He’s talking about whatever glorifies the Father in the Son (v. 13).  He is promising to bless His continued ministry among us, and through us.  To accomplish His merciful and saving will among us, and through us.  Greater works than His, He says, not because they are better or more powerful, but exploding out on the world stage, not just confined to Israel.  The Gospel is preached to the ends of the earth.  That is the great thing.  And God does it through us.  What an honor.  What joy!

            So, those four things.  Remember them today.  1. Jesus prepares a place for you.  2. He alone is the Way to that place.  3. In knowing Him, you know the Father.  And, 4. He is working through you, and through His whole Church, to bring many more to know Himself, and so, to know the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

            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.                     

---

[1] LC II: III:65 https://bookofconcord.cph.org/en/large-catechism/part_2/article_iii/#article-iii

Fourth Sunday of Easter

 Video of Service

Fourth Sunday of Easter (A)

April 26, 2026

Text: Psalm 23; John 10:1-10

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

            You really ought to just learn the 23^rd Psalm by heart, if you haven't already.  I think maybe this is one of those passages to memorize from the King James Version, so that the poetry of it can captivate you.  Now, we’re singing several hymn versions of the Psalm today, including the beautiful Hymn of the Day, “The King of Love My Shepherd Is” (LSB 709), but other than that, we don’t actually get the Psalm on this Good Shepherd Sunday.  It is the Psalm appointed for the day, though we don’t often use that lectionary option.  But you have to hear it, so, here it is, in the King’s English: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.  He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.  Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” 

            When I was a teenager (this may come as a shock to many of you) I was a bit of a dork.  And at school, I had what one might call a “poor man’s Trapper Keeper,” one of those three ring binders with the clear plastic sleeve all around it.  And, as teens often do, I made it my own by displaying things in that sleeve that were important to me.  On one side, I had an Oregonian newspaper concert review of a Ray Charles concert I had attended (one of the great moments of my life, God gave me to see Ray Charles, still in his vigor... Beloved, always thank God for First Article gifts.  They are never trivial.  He loves us, and He gives us many good things to enjoy).  So, that was one side (the back), but on the front... Bible passages.  Chief of which was Psalm 23.  King James.  In public school, no less, carrying it around.  Printed in dot matrix!

            I wish I could say it was because I was wise that I did that.  But like so many things, from my perspective, it was by happy accident.  I liked it, so I printed it.  But from God's perspective, it was by grace.  It was His providence.  So that it was daily before my eyes.  I read it constantly because it was there (and it was more exciting than algebra).  I internalized it.  Turns out, that's the way to do it.  And now that I think about it, that was probably a lesson caught from my dear mother, who had all sorts of random bits of paper, with Bible verses, taped all around her desk at my parents' hardware store.  Thank God for those, too, because I learned some of those verses by happy accident (which is to say, divine providence).  In fact, when I hear or recite some of those verses, I can still see those scraps of paper in my mind, clear as day, complete with stupid rainbow and unicorn stationary (it was the 80s, okay?).  It doesn't have to be an accident, though.  You can do this intentionally.  And you should.  Write down passages.  Hold them before your eyes.  Read them often.  Mark them.  Learn them.  Inwardly digest them.  So that they become a part of you.  Woven into the fabric of your being.     

            But you know what it really was... my binder... my mother's notes...?  It was our Lord Jesus, shepherding me.  Calling me by name.  Leading me in and out of the sheepfold (and what is the sheepfold?  The Church!  Leading me into the Church, and back out again into my life and vocations!  Armed with His Word!).  Always with me.  Feeding me.  Tending me.  Protecting me from the fang and claw of predators (the devil, the demons).  At His own peril.  To His own harm (the cross!).  So also, the robbers and thieves (the false teachers).  The muddied and poisoned waters of my own sins.  He keeps me from all that is harmful and deadly.  And when I am lost, He seeks me, and finds me.  And when I am wounded, He binds my wounds, and He keeps me close, and extends to me His healing touch.  And when He brings me back, safely, to the sheepfold at night, He protects me, then, too.  He becomes the Door.  He is, of course, in truth, the Door... we enter His Church (His Sheepfold) by our immersion into Him in Holy Baptism.  But there is also a pastoral (as in shepherding) image here (pastor is just Latin for shepherd).  At night, the shepherd lays himself across the entrance of the sheepfold.  That’s what Jesus does for me, and for you, and all the sheep.  Why?  So that I can’t get out apart from His knowledge and care.  And if a predator wants in, it’ll have to cross over the crucified and risen body of the Lord Jesus Christ.

            What about the images we are given in Psalm 23?  What does our Lord do for us there?  Since the Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.  I was always confused, as a kid, what that means.  Because I wanted plenty of things.  Yeah, but not really.  I didn’t want in the true sense of the word, as in lacking the things that I need.  The things that kept me alive.  Physically, yes.  But also, and especially, the things that kept me alive spiritually, in Christ.  That is what the rest of the Psalm is about: Those things that keep me alive by faith in the Good Shepherd.  And that, by the way, includes the crosses God sends me, because He knows they are good for me.  In other words, I may suffer the lack of some bodily necessity at one time or another.  But when that happens, I can be sure of two things: 1. The Good Shepherd is feeding me spiritually by my bodily lack, shaping me by the cross into His cruciform image.  And 2. He will, in the time and way He knows best, relieve me of that bodily want.  Either by providing here and now (as He so often does), or... frankly, death.  But either way, I can trust Him.  He knows what I need.  And, in any case, you and I haven’t suffered much of that.  Certainly not to the degree many of our brothers and sisters have, and do, in other places in the world, and at other times in history.  But our Shepherd will always provide.  You can absolutely count on Him.  I shall not want.

            How does He provide for our wants in the Psalm?  He makes us lie down in green pastures.  That is to say, His Word!  That is what is happening here, in the Divine Service.  And in your daily reading and meditating on the Scriptures.  Beloved, read the Scriptures every day.  And put up your scraps of paper, or whatever you need to do to hold those Scriptures before your eyes, your heart, your mind.  You’re resting in His verdant meadow!  He leads you beside still waters.  Think of all the wells in Scripture.  Or the river that comes from the throne of God, and gets deeper and wider as it goes.  With the Tree of Life on either side, the leaves of which are for the healing of the nations.  The pure, fresh water that heals all that it touches, all that is stagnant and dead.  Think of the Living Water Jesus pours out for the Samaritan woman, and for you.  If anyone is thirsty, come to Him and drink.  Think of the baptismal font, where that water touches you.  The healing bath of regeneration and renewal.  The water pouring forth with blood from the Savior’s pierced side.  He leads you to that. 

            He restores your soul by that.  And He leads you in the paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake.  Now, that is vital.  Because you’ll get lost otherwise.  But His Name is on you in Baptism.  You are precious to Him.  He does not want to lose you.  So He keeps you close, and leads you in the Way you should go.  His doctrine.  And His Commandments.  That you live in faith toward Him, and fervent love toward one another.  He leads you through the dangers.  All the dark and perilous places.  Even through the valley of the shadow of death.  He knows the Way!  He’s been there!  He is the Way!  He can lead you through, and out the other side again, alive, because: He is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  You need fear no evil.  They can’t get you when Jesus is with you.  Let His rod and staff be your comfort.  Again, His Word.  And His cross.  The fulfillment of Moses’ staff.  It has a crook in it, that God may yank you away from the dangerous messes you get yourself into.  And stave off the devil and the false teachers. 

            Then, all of a sudden, a change of metaphor.  The Table well-laid in the presence of your enemies.  Right here in this fallen world, and much to the vitriolic terror of the demons.  Christ’s true body.  Christ’s true blood.  For you, for the forgiveness of sins.  And the anointing oil.  The Spirit.  You are anointed with the Spirit at your Baptism, just as He was at His.  And the cup that runneth over.  That’s like Luther’s “and the like” when he’s listing all the First Article gifts God provides us.  So, if all this is true (and it is!), you can know for certain that goodness and mercy will follow you all the days of your life... this life... and into the next.  You will dwell in the House of the LORD forever. 

            That is an unimaginable comfort to you as you slog your way through life in this fallen world, with your own fallen flesh.  So, just memorize it.  Learn it by heart.  What am I always saying to you Catechism students?  Why do I want you to learn all this by rote?  So that you know it by heart!  And you carry it with you all the way to your death bed, and beyond.  It is the Voice of Jesus, your Good Shepherd.  Calling you by name.  Listen.  Hear Him.  Believe Him.  Follow Him.  Because, with Him, you have life.  And you have it abundantly.  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.      

Third Sunday of Easter

 Video of Service

Third Sunday of Easter (A)

April 19, 2026

Text: Luke 24:13-35

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

            Sorrowful and sad, disappointed and dejected, they plod the Emmaus path.  Their Lord, crucified, like a common criminal.  Those closest to Him in hiding.  Roman and Jewish authorities both on high alert.  So much for the messianic dream of an independent Israel, delivered from Roman tyranny.

            Step after step.  It’s a seven-mile journey.  When, all at once, they are joined by a Stranger.  He inserts Himself into the conversation.  “What is this that you are talking about along the way?”  “What is it?  What do You mean?  Where have You been holed up this whole Passover Feast long, that You’re the only Visitor to Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things that have happened?”  “What things?” the Stranger persists.

            Now, you and I know who this is.  What is Jesus doing, playing with them like this?  Why is He asking these questions?  We know good and well that He knows the answers.  Well, think about it.  This does have a familiar ring to it, this line of questioning, doesn’t it?  “Adam, where are you?”  “Who told you you were naked?”  “Did you eat of the tree from which I commanded you not to eat?”  “What things?” Jesus says.  “Tell Me.  Say it out loud.  Work it out, guys.  What has happened?  Confess.” 

            You and I know what He’s up to, but they don’t.  Their eyes are kept from recognizing Him.  Kept by what?  Or whom?  Jesus?  Probably.  Everybody has a hard time recognizing Him, now, in His risen and glorified body.  Until He gives them to recognize Him.  We see this throughout the post-resurrection appearances, and He has His purposes in it.  But also (and this is very instructive for us)... their own spiritual blindness.  The inability of their minds to comprehend even the possibility that the rumors might be true: That this Man, who was crucified, dead and buried, is risen.  Impossible.

            So, they trod and plod, and they try to explain: “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him.  But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:19-21; ESV).

            One of them is named Cleopas.  Perhaps he is the Clopas from John 19 (v. 25) (Cleopas being a Greek name, Clopas, Hebrew).  That’s what the early Church thought.  In that case, this is Jesus’ uncle, Joespeh’s brother.  But who is his companion?  Scholars have debated, as they are wont to do.  Some say Clopas’ son, Simeon.  Others have suggested Mary, the wife of Clopas (one of the many Marys in the Gospels).  Whoever it is, doubtless, the early disciples knew.  They are in on the joke.  But Luke doesn’t tell us.  Why?  It’s a literary device.  Who is this unnamed second person?  Literarily speaking, the second person is you.

            On the road with Jesus.  Walking the wrong way, as it turns out.  You should be walking toward Jerusalem.  Toward the gathering of disciples, not away from it.  But there He is, and your eyes are kept from recognizing Him.  Kept, perhaps in some sense, by His design, but certainly by your own spiritual blindness and the inability of your mind to comprehend that the risen Lord Jesus Christ walks with you.  He is present with you, you know.  He promises it.  But you act like He is not.  Like He is gone.  Far removed.  Like you’d hoped that He would help you and be with you, but there’s no way that could be true now.

            You silly Christian.  You know better than that! 

            But, there He is.  He is faithful.  With you always.  In the flesh.  And in spite of yourself, and your silly, stupid doubts.  Doing what?  Calling to mind His Word.  The Scriptures.  Moses and the Prophets.  And more, with you, who live in the New Testament.  The Apostles and Evangelists.  The fulfillment of the Old.  Every page... every Word... it is all about Him.  His coming in the flesh.  His sin-atoning death for you.  His resurrection on the Third Day, as He said.  His ascension.  His rule at God’s right hand.  His coming again to judge, and to raise you from death... to life.  This is why you should daily be in the Scriptures at home.  Because this is Jesus, speaking to you, even when you can’t, for the life of you, see it.  He is breathing His Spirit into you by His Word.  Turning you around.  Drawing you to Himself, and to His heavenly Father.  And to His body, the Church.  To His body, the Supper.

            Sometimes, by grace, it does dawn on you that He is speaking to you.  Those are marvelous moments of clarity.  Embrace them.  Revel in them.  But most often, not.  Lest we be too elated by the surpassing greatness (2 Cor. 12:7).  But also, because of our own dullness.  “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!” (Luke 24:25).  When that is the case, God, open our blind eyes.  Melt our hard hearts.  Give us ears, that we may hear!

            So, this is what our Lord does.  He comes alongside Cleopas and you, and leads you deep into the Truth.  It’s hard to see Him, isn’t it?  But just listen.  He is inserting Himself into your life and conversation.  Speaking to you, here and now, in the Scriptures and the preaching.  Showing you from all the Scriptures that it was “necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory” (v. 26).  He opens your mind to understand.  And, as He does, your heart burns within you.  Doesn’t it?  Sometimes it doesn’t.  That is your own hard-heartedness.  Repent of that.  But often it does.  When the truth of it… the beauty of His love for you, and His redemption of you… hits you in new and different ways, as if for the very first time.  You see Him so clearly where you hadn’t before.  Or you seem Him again where you have in the past, but in a way that is new and fresh.  And not theoretically, as an abstract idea, or a Savior far-removed.  No... Incarnate.  Tangible.  Embodied.  Near.  Present, as He promised.  Present for you.

            And when that happens... O, Lord Jesus, will you not stay?  “Abide with us, our Savior,” you plead.  “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.”  Come in, and dwell with us.  “Come, Lord Jesus, be our Guest.”  And He does.

            And then, you go to the Table, and the Guest becomes the Host.  He “took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them” (v. 30).  That is what He does for us!  We know those words!  And what happens?  It’s like scales fall from our eyes.  There He is!  We recognize Him in the Breaking of the Bread.  From here on out, that is where He’ll be for us.  That is where He will always be for us, until the Day He comes again in glory.  This is how we’ll see Him.  The body given.  The blood shed.  Now risen from the dead.  Living and life-giving.  Absolving and cleansing.  Comforting and encouraging (literally, putting all the courage of the One who has conquered sin, death, and Satan, into us!). 

            It turns our feet back to Jerusalem, to the holy Church of God, where we know we belong.  It turns our sorrow into joy, our disappointment into hope and confidence.  We run to the assembly of our fellow believers, and proclaim the truth continually to one another: Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  And now we go His way, about His business, knowing ever and always that He is with us on the Way, the risen Lord Jesus.  Never mind if it’s often hard to see Him.  You and old Cleopas, just keep listening as He speaks to you in His Word.  And just like the first disciples, devote yourselves “to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42).  And in that, your eyes will be open to Him.  Because He is here!  For you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

 

Second Sunday of Easter

 Video of Service

Second Sunday of Easter (A)

April 12, 2026

Text: John 20:19-31

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

            The wounds.  He still has them.  Why?  That we may know.  This is the Lord Jesus who was crucified for us.  Dead and buried.  Our punishment, for our sins.  Our cross.  Our hell.  Our tomb.  See the scars.  He was mortally wounded.  Yet, behold, He lives.  The Lamb of God, slain, but standing.  Victorious.

            The wounds.  They are, for us, the wells of salvation.  Pierced for our transgressions.  Crushed for our iniquities.  Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace (Is. 53:5).  Peter preaches, as did Isaiah before him: "By his wounds you have been healed" (1 Peter 2:24; ESV).  The Rock of Ages, cleft for me.  Let me hide myself in thee.

            The hands. The feet.  The riven side, whence flowed the water and the blood.  Be of sin the double cure.  Cleanse me from its guilt (justification) and power (sanctification).  It all flows from His wounds.  Into font and chalice.  And so, into you.  And so, into me.

            So, when I am tempted, I flee to the wounds.  They are the stronghold, my protection from Satan’s flaming darts. 

            When the guilt of my sins overwhelms me, I run to the wounds.  There is forgiveness in the blood.  The blood is the propitiation, the atonement, and the purifying agent.

            When I have been sinned against, behold, the wounds.  Suffered also for my neighbor.  For the forgiveness of my neighbor.  The same mercy.  The same blood.  It covers me.  It covers my neighbor.  If God forgives my neighbor, how can I not forgive him?  If God forgives me... at the cost of these precious wounds... Forgiveness flows from these wounds, to me, and through me, to my neighbor.

            So, when I am given to judging my neighbor in his sins... as though his sins are not as qualified, as are mine, for the mercy of the Lord... look at the wounds.  And bury that nonsense deep within them.

            When I am weak, or sick... When I know the brokenness of everything... When I am grieving, or sad... When I am lonely...  When I am dying...  There is healing in the wounds.  Only in the wounds.  The Strong One, weak, with my own weakness, in order to make me strong with His strength.  His body broken, that I be made whole.  His sorrow, His tears, turning mine into joy.  Forsaken by all, that I never be alone.  Not even in death.  In which, even then, I will live.  Because He died.  But He lives.  And I live in Him.

            See how His wounds give meaning to my own.  Mine are joined to His.  His redeem and consecrate Mine.  St. Peter tells us how.  Though now, for a little while, if necessary, you are grieved, these various trials are gifts of God, given, why?  That “the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 3:7).  What does it mean?  What kind of test could this be?  It is not an academic test, or a fitness qualifier.  This is metallurgy!  The purifying of gold.  It is melted into liquid.  Surely, being melted is not a pleasant experience!  But what happens?  As the precious metal is melted down, all that is not gold is brought to the surface, and skimmed away.  So it is with faith.  That is the testing.  The melting down.  So that all that is not faith... all that is not Christ... be exposed and removed.  Your wounds.  They have purpose, now.  United with those of Christ. 

            And what happens to the wounds over time, as they heal?  They become scars.  Scars are important.  They are reminders.  Signs.  Signs that the wounds are real.  That the hurt really happened.  But also, signs of healing and life.  Signs that God does not forsake you in your woundedness.  In that case, there would be no healed scars.  So... signs of God’s absolute faithfulness to you.  And a Promise, as you behold them through the lens of Jesus’ sacred scars: God will raise you from the dead, too.  And what is the proof?  The crucifixion wounds.

            It is Easter evening, and the disciples are locked away for fear.  Having sinned, and been sinned against.  Weak and broken.  In lonely prisons of their own making.  Sorrowful.  Grieving.  When all at once, He appears.  He is in their very midst.  No, He didn’t use the back door, or climb in through the bathroom window.  Here is a great Easter revelation: He’s been with them the whole time.  As He always is with His disciples, now, in His risen and glorified body.  And that, means us, beloved.  He is with us.  There He is, and you can imagine their surprise.  Startled.  Confused.  Doubting their own eyes.  Now, even more afraid.  What if He’s come in judgment?  What if He’s come in wrath? 

            But He speaks forth His peace.  Shalom.  And then, what does He do for His doubting disciples?  What gift does He give them, that makes everything right?  Then He showed them His hands and His side.  The wounds!  He still has them.  That the disciples may know.

            Now, Thomas was not with them.  Doubting Thomas, we say.  And it is true, he should have believed his brothers’ resurrection preaching.  But his instincts are right.  What does he demand to see?  The wounds.  That will do it.  They are the only cure for doubt.  Contact with the wounds of our Lord Jesus Christ.  “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe” (John 20:25).

            Eight days later, there He is again (He has this way of appearing in the flesh on Sundays, wherever His people are gathered).  And what does He say?  Thomas, here are My wounds.  Go ahead, poke around.  Here is the cure for all that ails you.  “Do not disbelieve, but believe” (v. 27).  And it works, doesn’t it?  In place of doubt, faith!  And creedal confession.  Thomas says to Him, “My Lord and my God!” (v. 28).  And then, as though turning and looking at us, the Lord says to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me?  Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (v. 29).

            It is true, we haven’t seen, and yet we believe.  But we have come into contact with those blessed wounds.  The Rock is cleft for us in altar and font.  We hide ourselves in those wounds in the blest baptismal waters, and every time the Absolution is spoken, as Jesus here gives it (“If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven” [v. 23]).  The blood covers us in the body given and the cup poured out, cleansing us, purifying us, forgiving our sins.  And we believe.  And we confess.  “My Lord and my God!”

            That is the power of Jesus’ wounds.  He doesn’t bear them such that they still hurt Him.  Now they are trophies, witnesses, signs.  These things were written, first, in the flesh of God’s Son.  “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” (Is. 49:16).  And then they are written in the Gospel, the Scriptures: “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 20:30).  And so it is.  Behold, the wounds.  The Lord Jesus bears these wounds for you.

            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.