Fourth Sunday of Easter

Fourth Sunday of Easter (A)

April 30, 2023

Text: John 10:1-10

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

            “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.  I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10; ESV).

            If Jesus is your Shepherd, you have eternal and abundant life.  If you follow anyone else as shepherd, you will be led to death and destruction.  It is as simple as that.  Anyone or anything else that may pose as shepherd is a thief and a robber.  He does not enter the sheepfold by the Door… and the Door is Christ!...  He does not enter the sheepfold through Jesus Christ, but comes in by another way.  And his purpose is to steal you from Jesus, and from His Church.  To use you for his own ends.  And finally, when he gets what he wants from you, to kill you.  To destroy you.  Which is a reference to damnation.  Beloved, whatever such a pseudo-shepherd may say to you, he doesn’t love you.  And he will never lay down his life for you.    

            He who enters by the Door, and is Himself the Door, Jesus, calls His own sheep by name, and they hear His voice, and He leads them out.  He knows them, each and every one.  And they know Him.  They know His voice.  He goes before them.  They follow.  He protects them.  Watches over them.  Cares for them.  He will die for them.  He loves them.  The sheep are always safe when they can hear their Shepherd’s voice. 

            This is a thing, by the way, to this day among shepherds in the Middle East (and probably many other places).  The shepherds bring their respective flocks to pasture all in the same field, and the sheep all intermix.  But when it’s time to go, each shepherd will call his sheep, and the flocks disperse to their own shepherd.  Sheep, by all accounts, aren’t the brightest animals in the barnyard, which is good for us to remember when Jesus calls us sheep.  He isn’t calling us that because we’re so cute and cuddly.  Sheep get themselves in all sorts of trouble.  And when they do, they can’t get themselves out again.  But they do have one thing going for them.  They know the voice of their shepherd.  A stranger’s voice they will not follow.  When their shepherd calls, the sheep follow him.

            Jesus is our Good Shepherd.  But who are the thieves and the robbers?  In the Old Testament, they are the unfaithful priests, the wicked kings, and the false prophets.  Both Ezekiel and Jeremiah (Ez. 34; Jer. 23) make a big deal out of the fact that those who should be faithfully shepherding the people of Israel, are instead exploiting the sheep for their own comfort and wealth.  Slaughtering the fat ones.  Clothing themselves with wool.  Neglecting the sick and the injured, and leaving the lost to fend for themselves.  Scattering the flock on every high hill, which is to say, leading them to idolatry, the high places, sacrificing the people to false gods, to demons!  “All who came before me are thieves and robbers,” Jesus says (John 10:8). 

            What about in Jesus’ day?  Clearly the thieves and robbers are the Chief Priests, which is to say, the Sadducees, who hold tremendous power over the sheep at the pleasure of the Romans, and profit from them in the den of thieves that is the Temple.  And especially the Scribes and Pharisees to whom Jesus is speaking in our Gospel.  They would be shepherds.  But they do not enter by the Door.  They do not enter by the Savior of sinners.  They enter by the hedge around the Law, the traditions of the elders, the pious practices promulgated by mere men.  They exclude sheep from the safety of the sheepfold.  They couldn’t care less about the lost ones.  Leave them to the wolves.  Unclean.  Unclean.

            What about in our day?  Who are the unfaithful priests, wicked kings, and false prophets among us?  There are many false teachers with megachurches and bestselling books at Christian book stores.  These are the ones about whom you say to me, “I know they teach false doctrine, but it’s okay, because I know what I’m doing, and they say things I like.”  But do they direct you away from Jesus?  To yourself?  To themselves?  Do you allow them to shape your faith and piety?  Beloved, this is the voice of strangers.  Repent.  Of course, it’s easy for us to identify the politicians we don’t like with the wicked kings, and we may be right.  But really, the problem is we actually think our politicians will save us!  We put them in the place of Christ.  And we believe every promise from their high priests and prophets on our favorite podcasts and cable news channels.  They are directing us away from Jesus to their own methods of salvation.  “Save the nation!  Save the earth!  Save the whales, but don’t save the babies!”  Beloved, this is the voice of strangers.  Repent.  The whole world would direct us away from Jesus.  And our sinful flesh is all-too-willing to follow.  Whoever, or whatever, would promise you safety and security, health, wealth, and prosperity… salvation!... heaven!... life, and that in abundance… apart from Jesus, is a false shepherd, a false god.  A theif.  A robber.  A demon.  And it will only kill and destroy you.  Don’t follow the voice of strangers!  Sheep get themselves in all sorts of trouble.  And when they do, they cannot get themselves out again.

            But listen.  Do you hear Him calling?  Jesus, your Good Shepherd, calling you by Name.  Seeking you out.  Leaving the 99 to find you.  Freeing you from the clutches of the evil one.  Binding your wounds.  Hoisting you on His shoulders.  Bringing you home.  To lead you in and out once again.  Out to the good pastures.  In to the safety of His sheepfold.  The Shepherd is the Door.  That is true, also.  A good shepherd will always lay his body down in the doorway, so that no one gets out, and no one gets in, unless they go through him.

            That is what Jesus does, isn’t it?  Lays down His body, His very life, for the sheep.  For you.  On the cross.  That is what is what brings you safety and security.  The true wealth and prosperity of knowing Him and being in Him.  And life, abundant, healthy, whole.  Death cannot touch you.  Because He died.  And because He lives.  Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. 

            Now He brings you here into His Church.  This is the sheepfold.  What, by the way, of the pastors?  The word “pastor” means “shepherd.”  If Jesus is the only Shepherd we are to follow, and all others lead to death and destruction, does that mean the pastors are really thieves and robbers?  Well, actually, they often are.  That is the problem.  When they think that they are the shepherd instead of Jesus.  When they preach their own words instead of the Word of Jesus.  When they fleece the sheep, slaughter the fat ones, and abandon the sick, the injured, and the lost ones.  Then they are thieves and robbers.  You must watch out for them.  You must watch that I not be one.  You must listen carefully, and determine whether I am speaking Jesus’ Word, in which you hear the voice of Jesus, or whether I am speaking my own words, with the voice of a stranger.  You should always flee the voice of a stranger.  When a pastor preaches false doctrine, show him his error, and call him to repentance.  Of course, extend him a little charity.  Maybe he misspoke, or maybe you misunderstood.  If he will not repent, do not listen anymore to his voice.

            But when he preaches Jesus’ Word, then you should listen to him as you would to Jesus Himself.  For it is the voice of Jesus, your Good Shepherd.  Jesus Himself is speaking when His Word is proclaimed in all its truth and purity.  The pastor is not THE Shepherd.  But he is an under-shepherd of THE Shepherd.  Perhaps we could even say, he is the gatekeeper our Lord says opens the door to the true Shepherd of the sheep.  He does it by preaching and Sacraments.  Faithful pastors are Jesus’ gift to His Church.  God grant that I be one.  You can’t see Jesus, for now, with your naked eyes, but you can see your pastor.  And when the pastor speaks the Word of Jesus, it is true, what Jesus says elsewhere: “The one who hears you hears me” (Luke 10:16).  When the pastor baptizes, it is Jesus calling you by name.  When the pastor preaches the Word, it is the voice of your Good Shepherd that you hear.  When the pastor absolves those who repent of their sins, and withholds forgiveness from the unrepentant as long as they do not repent, this is just as valid and certain, even in heaven, as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself.  And when the pastor hand-feeds you Jesus’ very body and blood in the Supper, it is Jesus giving you the Bread of Life, His own body, and the Cup of Blessing, His own blood.  It is His Supper.  He is the Host, and He is the Meal. 

            There are many false shepherds in the world.  St. John calls them antichrists (1 John 2:18).  Their speech is seductive.  But don’t listen to their voice.  They only want to use you, then kill and destroy you.  Listen only to the voice of your Shepherd, Jesus.  It is He, and He alone, who gives you life, and that abundantly.  Here is how He describes it over against the unfaithful shepherds in Ezekiel 34: “Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out.  As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness…  I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land.  There they shall lie down in good grazing land, and on rich pasture they shall feed on the mountains of Israel.  I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD…  And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd.  And I, the LORD, will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them.  I am the LORD; I have spoken” (Ez. 34:11-12, 14-15, 23-24).  And so it shall be.  And so it is.  The LORD’s Servant, David, has come.  It is Jesus Christ.  The 23^rd Psalm is our reality.  For Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  And so, in Him, we have life in abundance.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                        

Third Sunday of Easter

Third Sunday of Easter (A)

April 23, 2023

Text: Luke 24:13-35

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

            Two disciples walk the dusty road from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus.  One is named Cleopas.  The other is unnamed.  Since the early days of Church history, Cleopas has been identified as Clopas from John 19 (v. 25), the brother of St. Joseph, and therefore the uncle of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Could be.  Could be.  The tradition then speculated about who that second, unnamed disciple was.  Of course, he could be anybody.  But the tradition is that he is Simeon, the son of Clopas, cousin of our Lord Jesus Christ, and known to history as the second Bishop of Jerusalem, after the Lord’s own brother, James.  Bishop about the time Luke’s Gospel was completed, thus one of the eyewitnesses St. Luke may have interviewed in compiling his masterpiece, and one in a seat of authority who could vouch for the Gospel’s veracity, and sanction its use in the Church.  Again, could be.  Could be.  These traditions come from somewhere, maybe even from Simeon himself, or those who knew him, so we shouldn’t be so quick to discount the traditions as mere products of pious imagination.

            But why doesn’t Luke just name this second disciple?  Why name Cleopas, but not the other guy?  Oftentimes in the Gospels, when something is left open-ended, or a figure is left unnamed, it is because the hearer, you, are to place yourself there in the narrative.  Not just read yourself into the story as one who identifies with the characters, but understand that this is the reality as it pertains to you.  And it does.  For in the very same way Jesus draws near to the Emmaus disciples, and abides with them, and makes Himself known to them, so He does for you.

            Do you notice the pattern of Jesus’ interaction here with the disciples?  First there is interpretation of the Scriptures.  Teaching.  Preaching, even.  And specifically, a Christological preaching of the Scriptures.  “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27; ESV).  Preaching from these Scriptures (what we call the Old Testament), that it was necessary… divinely so… “that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory” (v. 26).  Teaching us how to read Scripture, to read it such that on every page we see Christ and His saving work for us. 

            And then, we should note, on the basis of this Christological preaching of the Scriptures, a brief interlude of entreaty… we might even say, prayer… Lord, “Stay with us” (v. 29), remain with us, abide with us, here in the besetting darkness and the evening of the day.  Dwell in our home. Do not leave us.  Followed by the second part of the pattern: The Meal.  Now, all at once, the One we’ve bid to come and be our Guest, sets Himself as the Host and Giver of the repast, as He “took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them” (v. 30).  And that sounds very familiar to us, doesn’t it?  We hear essentially those same words every Sunday, and every time we gather here in this House to hear the Christological preaching of the Scriptures, and recline together at this Table.

            What is the pattern?  Word and Sacrament.  Preaching and Supper.  This is what we mean when we call this that we’ve gathered for “the Liturgy.”  There are many different orders of service, some better than others, and they come in a variety of musical settings and maybe with slightly different renderings of the words, and with minor differences in order.  In our hymnal, we have five different orders for the Divine Service, but they are not different liturgies.  The Liturgy… The Divine Service… is Jesus drawing near to His disciples (that’s you) in the Christological preaching of the Scriptures and His Holy Supper.  (Incidentally, we also have some other very important orders of service, such as Matins, Vespers, Compline, etc., that are not the Liturgy in all its fulness, but emphasize the first part of the pattern, the Christological preaching of the Scriptures, punctuated by prayer, and [if we’re doing it right] eventually leading us to the Divine Service complete with the Sacrament.)

            Now, my purpose this morning does not include criticism of inferior orders of service which are, in spite of the claim that they are non-liturgical, nevertheless the Liturgy of preaching and Sacrament.  For that, you can see me virtually any other time, any day of the week.  I’m happy to criticize.  And incidentally, my criticism is not primarily concerned with the style of music (though there are some points to be made about that).  My criticism is primarily concerned with non-Christological preaching and the minimizing of the miracle that takes place in the Holy Sacrament.  But today the point is simply this: The Liturgy of the Church, Word and Sacrament, is the pattern set for the disciples (for us!), by the Lord Jesus Christ Himself.  He gives it to us, as a gift.  When you come to Church for the Divine Service, you are the disciple on the road to Emmaus.  And Jesus draws near to you. 

            And what is the result of the Preaching and the Meal, the divinely given pattern, the Liturgy?  Jesus Himself goes with you on the Way (v. 15).  Not just figuratively.  Not just spiritually.  Really… corporeally (that is, bodily, as in His conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, crucified and risen Body)… as He did with the Emmaus disciples.  Though your bodily eyes are, for a time, kept from seeing Him.  And into all your doubts and fears and misunderstandings, your own “we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (v. 21) moments… even when you’re going the wrong way (right?  They’re going away from Jerusalem instead of toward it)… into all of this… He speaks.  And as He interprets to you in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself, what happens?  You know this.  Your heart is burning within you. 

            Okay, your sinful nature often gets in the way, and your heart burns for lunch and an afternoon nap instead of the life-giving Word.  And Satan and the world cast any number of distractions before your eyes.  I know this from personal experience.  Okay.  Repent.  Crucify those enemies.  Drown them again in the Red Sea baptismal waters.  But you do know this, also, from personal experience.  When the Lord clears away all the dross, and gives you ears to hear His Word, and you have this God-given clarity that it’s all about Jesus Christ, and the salvation He won for you, and the life He gives to you… that all Holy Scripture is finally about that, and gives you that… Him!... your heart burns with faith, and love, and joy, and hope.  It is the Holy Spirit.  It is a Pentecost within your very body and soul. 

            And then what?  You pray…  Formally, we do this in the Prayer of the Church, and the hymns and canticles and liturgical petitions…  But you pray: “Stay with us.”  Remain with us.  Abide with us.  “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide” (LSB 878), a hymn I should have included today, but we can’t do them all.  “Come, Lord Jesus, be our Guest.”  Really, our Host.  Understand, it is a prayer for Jesus’ real and substantial presence.  His bodily presence.  When a child is scared in the middle of the night and calls out for Mom and Dad, is it enough for the parents to say, “It’s okay, my little one, for I’m with you in spirit… from my own bed across the house”?  Of course not.  I’ve tried it.  The child wants Mom and Dad’s bodily presence for shelter and protection from all the things that lurk in the darkness.  That’s what we need.  And that is what Jesus gives us.

            He takes bread, gives thanks, and breaks it.  “This is My body,” He says.  “And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him” (v. 31).  The eyes that were opened to evil and damnation and death at the eating from the forbidden tree in the Garden, are now opened to righteousness and salvation and life in the eating of the bread that Jesus gives, the fruit of the Tree of Life, the Tree of the cross, His crucified and risen Body.  Eyes opened, now, to recognize Jesus from now on in the Breaking of the Bread.  “And he vanished from their sight” (v. 31).  No, He didn’t go away.  That will never be the case again, now that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.  But we could translate this literally, “He became invisible to them.”  Present, but hidden from their eyes.  Because now, and until He comes again in glory, the disciples are to expect to see Him… not as he had appeared to them over the past three years, in a manner visible to the naked eye, what our Confessions call His “circumscribed corporeal mode of presence, as when He walked bodily on earth when He occupied and yielded space according to His size”[1] (so, like we see one another here today)… but now they are to see Him in the Breaking of the Bread, the Lord’s Supper.  Even as they hear Him in the Christological Preaching of the Scriptures. 

            And so you.  The Liturgy, Word and Sacrament, is simply and fundamentally Jesus drawing near to you on the Way, bodily present with you (Emmanuel, God with us!), to give you His Spirit and His gifts.  That is a reality that can only be because Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.  He is glorified, bodily now, with the glory He has shared from all eternity with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  So His body can be with all of us, always, and everywhere, and particularly in the Supper, where we eat that body, and drink His blood, as He bids us do.   

            So here you are, you and Cleopas… and Jesus’ cousin, Bishop Simeon… and Simon Peter, and the rest of the Apostles, and all of us, with the Christians throughout the world, with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, all the saints, all of our loved ones who have died in Christ and so live in Him… and here is Jesus.  Do you hear His voice?  Your eyes are kept from seeing Him, but He is speaking to you, all the things concerning Himself.  He is coming in to abide with you.  He is the answer to all your prayers.  He is about to take the bread, bless it, and break it.  And all at once you will see that He is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  And He is with you always… really, bodily… to the end of the age (Matt. 28:20).  Jesus abides with you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.        

                                 

 

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[1] FC SD VII:99; McCain, p. 577.

Second Sunday of Easter

Second Sunday of Easter (A)

April 16, 2023

Text: John 20:19-31

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

            “Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.’  And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld.’” (John 20:21-23; ESV).

            The Office of the Holy Ministry is given for this purpose: To distribute to you the Risen Lord’s Peace in the forgiveness of sins. 

            First, a little catechetical review.  “The Office of the Keys,” you’ll remember, is just a fancy term for the Office of the Holy Ministry, or “The Pastoral Office.”  So, “What is the Office of the Keys?  The Office of the Keys is that special authority which Christ has given to His church on earth to forgive the sins of repentant sinners, but to withhold forgiveness from the unrepentant as long as they do not repent.  Where is this written?”  Well, you just heard the Words in the reading of the Holy Gospel according to St. John, Chapter 20 (vv. 22-23), and as I quoted them at the beginning of this sermon.  And “What do you believe according to these words?  I believe that when the called ministers of Christ deal with us by His divine command, in particular when they exclude openly unrepentant sinners from the Christian congregation and absolve those who repent of their sins and want to do better, this is just as valid and certain, even in heaven, as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself.”[1]

            So why does God give you a pastor?  To exercise this Office in your midst.  And to apply what the Lord here gives by means of this Office, to you personally and individually.  And that is the forgiveness of sins. 

            Everything a pastor does is about the forgiveness of your sins.  The only tools he has available to him are the Means of Grace, the Means by which the Holy Spirit gives faith in Christ, and applies Christ.  The pastor has nothing else.  Not his own winsome personality.  Not his charm and good looks.  Not really even his skill or ability (though as St. Paul reminds us in 1 Timothy and Titus, the pastor must be “able to teach” [1 Tim. 3:2; Titus 2:24]).  All he has is the Word of God: Scripture, preaching… and the Sacramental Word (the Word in visible elements): Baptism, Absolution (which is always a return to Baptism), and the Holy Supper.  And he has prayer, to be sure, which flows from the Means of Grace, and leads back to the Means of Grace.  And that’s it.  The pastor has no sufficiency of himself.  God alone is his sufficiency (2 Cor. 3:5).  All he can do is preach and pray.  The whole thing is in God’s hands.

            Needless to say, each Means of Grace is given as a vehicle by which the Holy Spirit delivers Christ Jesus to you, His death and resurrection, and so the forgiveness of sins, reconciliation with the Father, eternal life, and salvation, and all that goes along with that.  The main job of the pastor is to hand over the Means of Grace.  But so also, everything else a pastor does, what we might call the secondary things, or even the tertiary things, and on down the line… all of it is in service to the handing over of Jesus in the Means of Grace.  All of it is in service to the forgiveness of sins.  Meetings, like the one yesterday, for example.  Filling out congregational statistics forms for Synod, like I did this past week.  Visiting the sick, the homebound, prospective members, others who ask for counsel and aid.  Fostering relationships.  Marriage counseling.  Community events.  Bible studies at breweries.  Meetings with other pastors and service to the wider Church.  Continuing Ed, and yes, even pastors conferences.  Even and especially my own prayer and study in my basement office (I’ll be honest with you… you wouldn’t know it, and synodical bureaucrats may deny it, but that is where much of the most intense spiritual warfare goes on, and the contested territory is you).  Above all, it is the bearing of the precious and holy cross, which touches every one of these things.  The list could go on, and there are probably some obvious ones I’ve missed, but you get the point: Everything a pastor does as pastor is in service to the prime directive: Deliver Christ and the forgiveness of sins… to you.

            I made some vows, to God and to you, the day I was installed as your pastor.  They are a repetition and reaffirmation of the vows I made at my ordination.  It is good, incidentally, whenever you make vows or take oaths, to review the things you promised from time to time, and give yourself an honest examination.  How is it going?  How faithful have you been?  Husbands and wives would do well to routinely review their marriage vows.  How about the vows made, or perhaps made in your stead by your sponsors, at your Baptism?  Vows spoken by your own mouth at your Confirmation?  And we could only wish our politicians would review their oaths of office every now and then, and take them to heart.  We should pray that they do. 

            Well, what were the vows I made to God and to you?  I vowed always to believe, teach, and confess the Word of God as recorded in the Old and New Testaments, as the inspired Word of God and the only infallible rule of faith and practice.[2]  I vowed always to believe, teach, and confess according to the three Ecumenical Creeds (the Apostles’, Nicene, and Athanasian), and our Lutheran Confessions as contained in the 1580 Book of Concord.  And see, all of this so far has to do with the doctrine, the words I speak, but it also has to do with life.  My own, and my ministry as applied to you.  I vowed that I would perform the duties of my office in accord with the Scriptures and these Confessions.  And that, as a result, I would faithfully instruct both young and old in the chief articles of Christian doctrine (that is why, yes, those of you who have already been through Catechism class, I still preach to you the same doctrine, and even the very same words you learned, probably as a child; you never outgrow them, and I promised to teach them).  That I would forgive the sins of those who repent, and never divulge the sins confessed to me.  That I would minister faithfully to the sick and dying, and be constantly at the ready to speak the Gospel into any and every situation that may arise (that is why the pastor has to constantly be studying God’s Word, so that he can be ready at any moment to speak it into the brokenness and fallenness of your life).  That I would admonish and encourage you to a lively confidence in Christ, and to holy living.  And that I, myself, would live a holy life, diligent in study, and constant in prayer for you.

            Dear brothers and sisters, I am a sinner, and I am weak.  Wherever I have sinned against you (and I have), I ask your forgiveness for Jesus’ sake.  Wherever I have neglected my Christian or pastoral duty toward you, spoken, or acted wrongly, I ask your forgiveness for Jesus’ sake.  In all my faults and weaknesses, I beg you that love would cover a multitude of sins (James 5:20; 1 Peter 4:8).  And if there is anything between you and me that has damaged our relationship, or prevents full and free communion in peace and joy and Christian love, please speak with me directly, that I may confess my sins to you and be absolved, and that we be reconciled. 

            You, also, made some vows, to God, to me, and to one another, at my installation if you were there, and if you weren’t there, you signed on to these vows when you were received as a member of this congregation at this altar.  What were those vows?  Well, first you heard the Word of the Lord in Hebrews 13:17 (NIV): “Obey your leaders and submit to their authority.  They keep watch over you as men who must give an account.  Obey them so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no advantage to you.”  Then you were asked, “Will you receive [your pastor], show him that love, honor, and obedience in the Lord that you owe to the shepherd and teacher placed over you by your Lord Jesus Christ, and will you support him by your gifts and pray for him always that in his labors he may retain a cheerful spirit and that his ministry among you may be abundantly blessed?... Will you honor and uphold your pastor as he serves Christ in all his God-pleasing responsibilities?  Will you aid him as he cares for his family?  Will you be diligent to ‘put the best construction on everything,’ recognizing that ‘love covers a multitude of sins’?”  To which you answered, “We will, with the help of God.”

            I thank God for every single one of you, and for the love and care you extend to me and to my family.  Your generosity is unbounded.  And you do cover over a multitude of sins with the help of God.  But above all, I thank God when you eagerly and joyfully receive the gifts of our Lord Jesus Christ in His Means of Grace.  A brother pastor once said to me, when he was experiencing difficulties in his congregation, “I just want them to rejoice in the gifts!”  That’s right, and I way it without frustration: I just want you to rejoice in the gifts.  And then live in them.  Be the Church.  I am not the Church.  I am in the Church with you, a fellow member and brother in Christ.  But I am not the Church.  You are.  Together.  One body, the Body of Christ, and each one an individual member of it.  So, as the Church, receive.  And then live.  Confess Christ.  Speak the Word.  Love your neighbor.  Provide for this ministry and this congregation.  Build a building… or don’t (that’s not my decision, that’s yours).  Go be salt and light and, leaven the lump of this world.  Be faithful in all you do and say… faithful to Christ, faithful to your neighbor.  And keep coming back here, often, and always, every chance you get, to receive the gifts.  The forgiveness of sins.  The Holy Spirit.  Life and salvation.

            I love being a pastor.  I love being your pastor.  What a privilege.  What a joy.  This text gave us a chance to think about that a minute, which is especially timely after a very intense Lent and Holy Week and Easter.  To take stock.  Give thanks.  Rejoice in the gifts.  Now this has gone a little long, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me.  And above all know that God forgives you all your sins for Jesus’ sake.  He’s given you a pastor for this reason, to tell you so: In the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins, 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!                       

 

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[1] Catechism quotes from Luther’s Small Catechism (St. Louis: Concordia, 1986). 

[2] See “Installation of a Pastor,” Lutheran Service Book: Agenda (St. Louis: Concordia, 2006) pp. 174-84.

The Resurrection of Our Lord

The Resurrection of Our Lord (A)

April 8, 2023

Text: Matt. 28:1-10

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

            It is earth shattering, right?  The death of God on a Roman cross for sinners, for the forgiveness of sins.  The resurrection of this Man, Jesus of Nazareth, who was dead, but now lives, bodily, and is declared to be what he has been from all eternity: The Son of God. 

            It is literally earth shattering.   That is what we read in the chapter previous to this morning’s Gospel, in Matthew 27.  When Jesus dies, the curtain of the Temple is torn in two from top to bottom, heaven to earth.  The earth quakes, the rocks split, and… what is going on over there in the cemetery?  The tombs are opened!  And there is activity inside.  A little confusion about whether it is time to get up.  And sure enough, the next morning, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, another earthquake, and an angel descending from heaven, rolling back the stone of Jesus’ tomb to show that it is empty!  Well, the saints think, must be time for us to come out, too.  So they do, and they go into the Holy City and appear to many.  Surprise!  See, they thought it was the Last Day already.

            Now, I’m convinced the angels in the various Gospel accounts of the resurrection are different angels.  Or, if not, perhaps they appear, now here, now there, in various positions to underscore the point that Jesus is no longer in the tomb.  The angel in last night’s reading from Mark was inside the tomb (16:5).  Pretty specific about his location.  On the right side.  Clearly eye-witness testimony.  Mark, or whoever told Mark, heard it from the women themselves.  Two men, angels, in dazzling apparel, greet the women in Luke (24:4).  And in John, as Mary Magdalene stands weeping outside the tomb, she stoops to look in and finds two angels sitting inside, one at the head, and one at the feet (John 20:12), and now we have the Ark of the Covenant, don’t we?

            But this angel in Matthew, he’s got an attitude, that one.  He’s a bit cheeky.  He sits there, smug, on top of the stone seal… you know, the one he’s just rolled away from the tomb, when the guards saw him and dropped to the ground, basically dead.  He just rolled it away and sat on it!  And I’m certain he’s sitting there now with his arms crossed, and a big grin, as if to say, “Ha!  You lose, death!  You lose, grave!  Jesus wins!  Just try keeping anybody in now.”  As it is written, “‘Death is swallowed up in victory.’  ‘O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?’” (1 Cor. 15:54-55; ESV). 

            Well, he may be smug.  But the angel is preaching, as angels are wont to do.  Angel, remember, simply means messenger.  Sometimes the word refers to majestic spiritual beings sent from God to protect us from harm and danger and direct our eyes to Jesus.  That is what it means here in our text.  Sometimes the word is used of pastors, believe it or not, as it is in the opening chapters of Revelation (2-3): “To the angel of the Church in”… Ephesus, Smyrna, wherever.  John is writing to the pastor of the congregation, who is to preach the content of the letter to his people.  And then, as we know, especially in the Old Testament, the word is often used of the Son of God Himself, the preincarnate Christ, the Angel of the LORD.  Angels preach a message from God.  That is what they are sent to do.  And this is no exception.

            What does he say in his sermon?  “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead” (Matt. 28:5-7).

            The angel is the first to preach it, and the preaching reverberates through the whole world, through the centuries, from generation to generation, right up to the present moment.  And every sermon since is an aftershock, just as powerful as that from the angel’s stone pulpit.  The Word goes out.  Jesus is no longer in the grave.  He is risen from the dead.  As He said!  Bodily.  The body crucified for you, for your forgiveness and redemption.  Still bearing the mortal scars.  Go and tell it.  Confess it.  Preach it. 

            You know what it does, this preaching?  It puts an everlasting crack through death.  A fissure that cannot be re-sealed.  I mean, the saints can’t help but tumble out of their graves and bear witness.  Because Jesus has blown a crater into Sheol.  There is no stopping it now. 

            And that is why the angel begins his sermon with the application: “Do not be afraid” (v. 5).  Beloved in the Lord, do not be afraid.  Christ Jesus is risen from the dead.  And that is the end of the death. 

            When you think about it, our fears, whatever they may be, are essentially iterations of the fear of death, and of eternal death in hell.  What is that you fear?  Sickness?  You are afraid that if you fall sick, you won’t recover; that, in fact, you will die.  But do not be afraid.  Christ Jesus, the One who cured all manner of sickness and disease and pain, is risen from the dead.  Whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life and perfect healing in the resurrection of all flesh. 

            Do you fear failure and rejection?  You are afraid that the value other sinners place on you is a reflection of your place in God’s esteem.  And what will that mean for the Day of Judgment?  But do not be afraid.  Christ Jesus, the One who receives sinners and eats with them, is risen from the dead.  What are you worth to God?  He answers with the blood of His only-begotten Son. 

            Do you fear financial problems, political instability, war, famine, plague, or pestilence?  You are afraid God will suddenly stop giving you each day your daily bread, that the eternal fountain of good will dry up without warning, and you’ll have to provide for your own needs, or die trying.  But do not be afraid.  Christ Jesus, the one who fed 5,000 men, plus women and children on five loaves and two fish, with twelve baskets full left over (Matt. 14:13-21)… and again, who fed 4,000 men plus woman and children on seven loaves of bread and a few small fish, with seven baskets full left over (15:32-39)… and who said, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (4:4)… that One is risen from the dead.  Your Father knows what you need before you ask, and gives it to you for Jesus’ sake.  Even as he feeds you here with the Bread of life that is the crucified and risen body of Jesus.

            Do you fear your sins?  Satan?  Hell?  Do not be afraid.  Christ Jesus, the One who bore your sins, and the sins of the whole world, to the cross, and who died for them, is now risen from the dead.  Your debt to God is paid in full.  Satan can no longer accuse you.  In fact, the serpent’s head is crushed (Gen. 3:15).  And hell has no claim on you. 

            You see, whatever suffering you experience in this life (and you will, for awhile, for a short time)… even if things go wrong and you die… even if they kill you because you are a disciple of Jesus… you won’t stay dead.  In fact, you’ll never actually be dead in any real sense.  That is over, now that Christ is risen.  So do not be afraid.  “I am the resurrection and the life,” says Jesus.  “Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die” (John 11:25-26).

            Do you see how earth shattering it all is?  But Jesus doesn’t only have it preached to you by men and angels.  He Himself meets you, as He met the women.  And so there is the Supper.  The women came up to Him and took hold of His nail-pierced feet and worshipped Him (Matt. 28:9).  You come up to Him and take hold of His body and blood with your mouth and worship Him.  And in both cases, He, Himself, the Risen Lord, preaches to you: “Do not be afraid” (v. 10).  He takes the fear out of you.  And then He puts the courage into you: “go and tell,” He says.  Go and tell “my brothers” (v. 10).  And so we do.  We tell one another, and we tell the world, until the saints come tumbling out of the tombs for good.  It goes like this: Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  That’s it.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                  

Vigil of Easter

Vigil of Easter

April 8, 2023

Text: Mark 16:1-8

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

            At first blush, the response strikes us as odd.  The young man (a holy angel) no sooner preaches His Easter sermon, that the Lord is risen, indeed, and the women flee the tomb in fear, with trembling and astonishment, and say nothing to anyone.

            But if we think about it, we can understand.  What the angel has said about the empty tomb, and the body that should have been there, is beyond anything they’d ever experienced, and so, beyond their wildest imagination.  And we all think seeing is believing, but we have to remember that in these first moments of Easter Dawn, all these women had to go on was the angel’s preaching.  All they had was the Word.  The risen Jesus had yet to be seen by anyone.  But they had seen, these women, the dead Jesus.  Blue and bloodied.  Cold.  Limp.  Lifeless.  Laid in this very tomb, sealed with this very large stone. 

            And now this News!  Go and tell His disciples and Peter.  Well, who would believe them?  Wives’ tales!  Silly women with their flights of fancy.  That’s what they’d say (that’s what they did say [Luke 24:11]).  I mean, come on! 

            So they said nothing.  They said nothing to nobody, the Greek literally says.  Uh uh!  No way!  At first, that is.  We know from the other Gospels, and from the longer ending of Mark, that the women were privileged to be the first to see the risen Jesus.  The women who had faithfully cared for Jesus throughout His earthly ministry, and provided for His needs form their own means (Luke 8:1-3).  The women who were not ashamed to wait and watch with Him in His dying hours on the cross (Mark 15:40-41).  The women who followed Joseph of Arimathea and the Savior’s corpse to the rock-hewn tomb, carefully noting where the body was laid, that they might come again when the Sabbath had passed, to give Him a proper anointing (vv. 42-47).  They are the first to see the risen Jesus, and the first to tell the Good News to the Apostles.  And it is no wives’ tale.  When the risen Jesus invades your life, He unseals your lips, and casts out your fear. 

            But there were other things that were silenced that day… silenced forever!  Grief.  Sorrow.  Sin.  Guilt.  Shame.  The damning sentence of the Law.  The accusations of the devil.  Death.  Hell.  And so… fear!  The risen Jesus, with His mortal crucifixion wounds, stops all those things in their tracks.  He shuts their mouths.  They may no longer boast.  They have no claim on you.  You belong to Jesus.  You are bound for life and resurrection with the risen Jesus.  But those things are death-bent and hell-bound.  The Lake of Fire awaits them.

            This evening, the angel preaches to you.  You came here tonight in the darkness of a sealed tomb, but now the stone is rolled away, and the angel declares it: “Do not be alarmed.  You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He has risen; he is not here.  See the place where they laid him” (Mark 16:6; ESV).  Now, what are you to do with that?  Do you run away in fear?  The response, actually, would be understandable.  Let it sink in that the Easter account is not just a nice story to give us positive feelings in the early spring.  This News is as shocking as if Grandma clawed her way through the coffin and the sod to cook the Easter ham (well, she might.  You probably don’t do it right).  In fact, this is more shocking, because Jesus is not a zombie.  He is alive.  He is Life.  Your Life.  And the Life of the world (John 6:51). 

            This is beyond your experience, and even your wildest imagination.  And who would believe you, anyway?  Especially these days, when people think all this religion stuff is silly and superstitious, and makes a claim on them that no silly superstition has a right to make.  That is why you’re so afraid to talk about it with friends and family members who deny Jesus, or are in the process of walking away from Him.  It’s easier, and safer, to say nothing to nobody.  You may well tremble, and be silent…  At first.

            But when the angel’s preaching sinks in…  When you hear the Gospel accounts, and in them, the voice of your living Lord…  When the risen Jesus appears in your midst in the Upper Room, fears and locked doors notwithstanding, and shows you His fleshly wounds: “Take, eat; this is My body!  Take, drink; this is My blood!”…  Your lips are unleashed and your fears put to flight.  You were here Good Friday, and you saw Him crucified, dead, and buried.  Just like the women, only you saw it with your ears.  As Paul says, it is through preaching that “before your eyes… Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified” (Gal. 3:1).  But now the 8^th Day has come, the Day of Resurrection, of New Creation.  And it is that Day into which you are baptized, and that Lord, the Risen One.  And it is He who is now preached.  Who can keep silent?  The very stones will cry out (Luke 19:40).  Especially the large one rolled away from the tomb.  “O Lord, open my lips,” like you did the mouth of the sealed sepulcher, “and my mouth will declare your praise” (Ps. 51:15).

            Go and tell… “go, tell his disciples and Peter” (Mark 16:7).  Go, tell your brothers and sisters in Christ.  Confess it to one another.  Go, tell your loved ones who don’t believe that He is risen, or live as though He is not.  Don’t you dare live as though He is not.  Preach it to the world.  Who will believe you?  What is that to you?  That is God’s business.  Whatever happens, when you go and tell, the Holy Spirit will ride on the wind of the words to do what He will do.  Do not bury this News in the ground.  Speak it.  Speak it if it means the death of you.  Because, in reality, it means the life of you.  And the life of all who hear it and believe. 

            Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  Run with it.  And perhaps tremble.  But do not be afraid.  Rejoice.  And take a big breath of fresh resurrection air.  New Creation is already breaking in.  The tomb is empty.  Jesus lives.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.