JANUARY 2023
JANUARY 2023
1 January 2023 - Christmas 1 - Luke 2:22-40
St. Luke tells us that there was a “just and devout” man in Jerusalem named Simeon, who was “waiting for the Consolation of Israel.” Luke also tells us that “it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.”
When Joseph and Mary brought little Jesus to the temple, for his formal “presentation” to the Lord, Simeon was directed by the Holy Spirit to this family, and specifically to this child. Luke picks up the narrative there:
“He took Him up in his arms and blessed God and said: ‘Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the face of all peoples, a light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel.’”
With his physical eyes, Simeon saw Jesus - who was no doubt an ordinary-looking baby. But with the eyes of faith - faith in what God had revealed to him concerning this baby - Simeon saw the salvation of the Lord embodied in that baby.
Seeing this, and holding in his arms the Redeemer of Israel and of all nations, Simeon expressed in his prayer to the Lord his willingness now to depart from this world: “Lord, now you are letting Your servant depart in peace.”
Simeon was prepared to die. This readiness to depart, with a sense that he had experienced everything that he needed to experience in life, is the main reason why Simeon is almost always portrayed in sacred art as a very old man.
Religious artists throughout history, and we today, pretty much assume that a fulfilled life is a long life. We tend to assume that only those who are aged would have the kind of attitude that Simeon had.
But there’s nothing in the text that tells us that Simeon was an old man. He could have been a middle-aged man or even a young man.
St. Luke does not tell us that he was ready to die because he was old. St. Luke tells us that he was ready to die because he had seen the Lord’s Christ.
How old is “old” anyway? The Book of Genesis indicates that Noah’s grandfather Methuselah lived to be 969 years old. Abraham, many centuries later, lives to be 175 years old.
Today, when someone passes away at the age of 85 or 90, we would probably not consider that person to have lived a life that was too short. We would expect such a person to feel, as he was making his exit from this world, that he had lived a full life.
But is that really so, in comparison to the life span of the ancient patriarchs? Would Methuselah have thought that Abraham had lived for a long time?
From Methuselah’s perspective, Abraham’s time on earth was very short. And from Abraham’s perspective, a person who dies today, at the age of 85, would be seen as someone whose life had been very short.
In truth, death at any time is evidence of human sin, and of the fallenness of our human nature. “The wages of sin is death,” as St. Paul writes in his Epistle to the Romans.
Adam and Eve were created to be immortal. Anything short of immortality, is a very short life, according to the way things were meant to be.
But the way things were meant to be, is not the way things are. Instead of immortality, and instead of being in harmony with an immortal God, humanity’s experience in this world is colored and shaped by sin: inherited from parents, passed on to children, and enacted personally by all of us: every day, in thought, word, and deed.
But as St. Paul also writes, “the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Receiving this gift, and seeing this gift - as Simeon did - is what allows you to be ready to die, because those who live and die in Christ, live forever.
Christ forgives the guilt of sin. He breaks the power of sin. In the resurrection on the Last Day, he will reverse all the effects of sin. Then we will all know the immortality, in soul and body, that we were intended to have.
So, as far as life in this world is concerned - as we prepare for our life in the next world - it is not true that only a long life can be a full life. If Simeon was, say, 35 years old when he held Jesus in his arms, his life - for that reason alone - would have been a truly full life.
In the year 2012, my 24-year-old daughter-in-law passed from this world into the nearer presence of Christ, after losing her battle with cancer. This was the saddest thing that I, personally, have ever experienced.
But as God’s Word instructs us and comforts us, I would have to say that this was definitely not the saddest thing that she ever experienced. As a young woman with a deep and strong faith in Christ, and in the promises for eternity that he had made to her, my daughter-in-law departed in peace.
From the perspective of eternity, dying at 24, and dying at 104, are not really all that different. As she is now with the Lord - beyond the timeline and the tears of earth - she now has the perspective of eternity.
And so do the loved ones you have lost as an early age. If they died in the Lord, they, too, departed in peace, according to his Word.
God’s definition of a full life, is a life that is filled with his Son Jesus Christ: filled with his grace and guidance; filled with his promise of eternal life for those who have “seen” him; filled with the faith that his Spirit works in those who believe in him.
This is what Simeon knew. This is what Simeon said.
“Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the face of all peoples.”
The Christmas season is a time when we think about living in peace. The angels sang: “Glory be to God on high; and on earth, peace, goodwill toward men.” We, too, sing this.
And in the words of Isaiah the prophet, we confess Jesus as “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
But as today’s text reminds us - with sobriety, as well as with a joyful hope - the Christmas season is also a season to think about what it means to die in peace, when the time for our departure from this world does come.
We might wonder, though, if we can compare our encounters with Christ, such as they are, with the encounter that Simeon had with Christ in the temple. Are we able to have the same kind of confidence in God, and the same degree of submission to God’s will, that he had - in view of the fact that he physically held Jesus in his arms, and really saw him? We haven’t done that!
Well, how does today’s text describe what Simeon did see? Does Luke report that Simeon sang a song with a line that says: “For my eyes have seen Mary’s baby”?
No, that’s not what he sang. Simeon, with the eyes of faith, saw a lot more than that, and sang about a lot more than that.
According to the Lord’s Word to him, Simeon in faith saw much more than what his physical eyes would have allowed him to see. “For my eyes have seen Your salvation,” Simeon prayerfully chanted to his God.
Simeon saw a human baby, but he also saw the promised Seed of the woman, crushing the serpent’s head. He also saw the Lamb of God, taking away the sin of the world.
He saw, and heard, an invitation - to him, to Israel as a whole, and to all the Gentiles - to believe and trust in this Savior, and to be enlightened for eternity by the truth of this Savior.
Can you see Jesus in this way? Can you in this way be prepared to depart in peace: whether your time of departure comes when you are young, when you are middle-aged, or when you are old? You certainly can!
It is customary in traditional Lutheran congregations - such as ours - to sing the song of Simeon immediately following the communicants’ reception of the body and blood of Christ, in the Sacrament of the Altar. Putting that song at that place in the Liturgy was not an arbitrary decision by our forefathers in the faith.
Rather, they knew that what Simeon had experienced in the temple with the baby Jesus, according to the Old Testament promise that God had made to him, is what we experience in the Lord’s Supper, according to the New Testament promise that God has made to us.
With his physical eyes, what Simeon saw was an ordinary-looking baby, and nothing more. But with the Word of God ringing in his ears and resting in his heart, Simeon saw more. He saw the Lord’s salvation.
With your physical eyes, what you see here is ordinary bread and wine, and nothing more. But with the Word of God ringing in your ears, and resting in your heart, you, too, see more. You, too, see the Lord’s salvation.
In his consecrating Word, God’s Son reveals to you and to all communicants what is actually going on, and where it is going on. He tells us: “This is My body, which is given for you; This cup is the New Testament in My blood, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins.”
The body of Christ that was given in death to liberate you from the Serpent’s power, and the blood of the Lamb that was shed to take away your sin, are not physically visible to you in the sacrament.
The divine glory and Messianic character of the baby Jesus was not visible in a physical way to Simeon, either. In spite of what we usually see in sacred art, there was no glowing gold nimbus or halo circling his head.
But Jesus’ divine glory and Messianic character were there nevertheless - in, with, and under the humble humanity of that special baby. God’s eternal Son, who came to save Simeon - and you, and the world - was in that baby. And God’s eternal Son is in this sacrament, under the earthly forms of bread and wine.
To be sure, Christ is available to us whenever and wherever his gospel is available to us - in preaching, in absolution, or in reading and meditating on the Sacred Scriptures. If need be, a Christian can know Jesus, and be forgiven and saved by him, without the Lord’s Supper, if for some sad reason a Christian never has an opportunity to receive the Lord’s Supper.
There were many faithful and pious Jews in the time of Simeon who also believed in the coming Messiah - as promised in the Hebrew Scriptures - and who were saved in that faith, without having had an opportunity to take Jesus into their arms.
But Simeon did have that opportunity. Simeon did have that special blessing and privilege.
And that’s one of the reasons why the Lord’s Supper was instituted by Jesus as a special gift for his church. In this Supper Christians like you and me have the blessing and privilege of holding Christ, of receiving Christ, of seeing Christ.
In this death-prone world, and in the death-prone life that we live in this world, faith often falters, and commitments often waver. Temptations to sin, which are always there, sometimes overcome us.
In our grief and weakness - in our shame and penitence - we yearn then for something objective and concrete to remind us of Christ’s mercy. We yearn for something tangible and certain, actually to deliver Christ and his forgiveness to us: so that we will once again be able to live in him; and so that we will once again be ready to die in him.
This is precisely what the Lord’s Supper does for communicants. This is precisely who the Lord’s Supper presents to communicants.
When you pray after communion, “Lord, now You let your servant depart in peace,” that’s not a reference to departing from the communion rail and going back to your pew. That’s not a reference to departing from the church building and going back to your house.
That’s a reference to departing from this world, and dying. “Lord, now you let your servant die in peace.” That’s what you are saying.
Regardless of how old you are - whether 15 or 50; whether 18 or 80 - you, like Simeon, are now ready in Christ, and because of Christ, to depart in peace, when the time of your departure comes.
You have seen the Lord’s Christ. You have touched him. He has touched you, has justified you, and has renewed his claim on you as one whom he has redeemed. And so you’re ready to go, when God is ready to take you.
According to the Lord’s Word to us, we have seen the Lord’s salvation. And so we sing:
“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” Amen.
6 January 2016 - Epiphany - Matthew 2:1-12
The Festival of the Epiphany of Our Lord is one of the four major festivals of Christ in the church year. The other three are Christmas, Easter, and Ascension.
The word “epiphany” means “manifestation.” The theme of the Festival of the Epiphany, which commemorates the visit of the Magi to the boy Jesus, is the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles.
Now, God had established his chosen nation - to which he had entrusted his written Word and his oracles - from the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But most of us are, according to our ethnicity and family heritage, gentiles. The patriarchs of Israel are not our ancestors.
Yet this does not mean that God forgot about our forbears, or about us. When the Messiah of Israel was finally sent, he was sent also for us.
Thirteen days ago, we heard in the Christmas Gospel from St. Luke that when Jesus was born, an angel announced to the Jewish shepherds outside of Bethlehem that their Savior had come. “Fear not,” he said, “for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
We are also told that “when the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.’ And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.”
They walked the few miles that they needed to traverse, to find their Lord, and to worship their Lord.
But Jesus came into the world not only for those who were close to him – religiously, culturally, and geographically. He came also for those who were far away. He came also for our ancestors, and for us.
The story of Epiphany is the story of the star announcing to the Magi in the East – many, many miles from Bethlehem – that also their Savior had been born. And so they launched out on a major trek, traversing deserts and plains, crossing rivers, and exposing themselves to all kinds of danger, so that they could find, and worship, the Redeemer of the entire human race.
St. Matthew reports in today’s Gospel that “after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.’”
When these wise men had been told that, according to the Prophet Micah, the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem, they went there. And as Matthew goes on to report, “the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him.”
Epiphany - which commemorates these events - is, in a sense, the Christmas of the gentiles. It is, in a sense, our Christmas.
Those in the world today, who are invited by the story of Epiphany to come and worship Christ today, are indeed often very far away from him when they receive that invitation.
Their hearts are enslaved by the fear of death. Their minds are darkened by the satanic lies they believe.
Their wills are perverted by a self-destructive yearning after sin. Their consciences are twisted by a hatred for that which is their only hope.
But these “gentiles” of today are nevertheless invited by the star of Bethlehem to come and find Jesus, and to worship Jesus, as he makes himself available to us today in his Word and sacraments. Even if they must come, as it were, from a great distance, they are still invited to come.
The star of the gospel draws them, and energizes them, to come. That star invites all gentiles – and all Jews as well! – to receive Christ into their hearts, minds, wills, and consciences. The star offers to all gentiles – and to all Jews! – the liberation, the enlightenment, the purification, and the peace that only Jesus can give.
The visit of the Magi was an important event in the life of Christ on earth. The Festival of the Epiphany is, accordingly, an important observance in the church year for us.
If your walk of faith has been blessed by God in such a way that you have remained close to Christ - dying to self in daily repentance, and rising in Christ by a daily embracing of his promises - you are still invited to come to Jesus today, yet again.
Like the shepherds, though, the “distance” you would need to travel to be blessed by him yet again, in Word and Sacrament, would be, as it were, a short distance - since by faith you are close to him already, believing his Word, accepting his guidance, bearing the fruit of his Spirit.
But if your walk of faith has suffered of late - perhaps in ways that no one else knows about - through doubts and fears; through temptations to sin which you have not resisted, and to which you have succumbed; through human weakness and spiritual discouragement in general - then you may be feeling pretty far from Jesus.
But you, too - just as with the distant Magi - are invited to come to him today. Your longer pathway to Bethlehem is the pathway of a renewed repentance, and the pathway of a revitalized faith, which are being worked in you by the convicting and regenerating power of God’s Spirit even in this very moment.
And it is a pathway you are invited to traverse - a pathway on which the Holy Spirit himself will draw you and carry you, all the way to where Jesus is to be found for you today: in his Holy Absolution and in his Holy Supper, where he will cleanse you, and restore you.
Whether you are, in mind and conscience, the equivalent of the Jewish shepherds, who were close to Jesus; or the equivalent of the gentile wise men, who were far away, Jesus is here for you tonight.
Jesus beckons you to come to him tonight, so that he can give you grace and forgiveness, life and hope. Jesus brings you to himself tonight, so that you can know his love and salvation.
If you are like the shepherds, then today you can join them in saying: “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”
If you are like the Magi, then today you can join them in saying: “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Amen.
8 January 2023 - Baptism of Our Lord - Matthew 3:13-17
In his baptism, Jesus became, in a very clear and decisive way, the friend and companion of sinners. The baptism that John the Baptist had been sent by the Lord to administer, and that Jesus also wished to receive, was a baptism for sinners.
But of course, Jesus himself, in his own person, was not a sinner. And this is why John hesitated to administer it to him. In today’s Gospel, St. Matthew reports this exchange between them:
“And John tried to prevent Him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by You, and are You coming to me?’ But Jesus answered and said to him, ‘Permit it to be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he allowed Him.”
God’s Son was not sent into the world to live a sanitized existence, never having to see or deal with the pain and suffering of the world, or with the wickedness and evil of the world - which was the cause of that pain and suffering. During his time on earth, Jesus was, instead, right in the middle of all of that.
To be sure, he himself never sinned. He never partook of the wickedness that surrounded him. But he came to be the friend and companion of many who had in the past partaken of it in one way or another, and who had been victimized by it in one way or another.
He came to be their Savior: to deliver them from the judgment and condemnation that they had earned for themselves before God’s bar of justice, and to deliver them from the inner pain and grief that had been inflicted upon them by the cruelty and callousness of others.
But, while Jesus was indeed the friend and companion of sinners - which was demonstrated clearly in his willingness to receive a baptism that was for sinners - Jesus was not a friend and companion of sin. He was an enemy of sin. He was the most severe and deadly enemy that sin would ever encounter.
And God’s Son did not come into the world only to deliver people from the eternal consequences of sin in the next life. He came to deliver them from the power and mastery of sin in this life.
Jesus loved the human race, and therefore he hated that which had corrupted the human race and filled it with misery and death. He hated sin.
He hates sin now. He hates your sin, not just because it is an offense against his holiness, but because it is your enemy, and is harming you.
Some people misconstrue and misapply the truth that Jesus is the friend and companion of sinners, by thinking that this means that they, even as Christians, can willfully continue in sin, without trying to change or resist temptation, and without seeking to grow in faith and in the fruits of faith.
Jesus forgives all manner of wickedness, selfishness, laziness, and pride, it is thought. And so all manner of wickedness, selfishness, laziness, and pride can be freely indulged in, with impunity.
There are many who think like this, or at least they act as if this is the way they are thinking. The rhetoric of the Christian religion may be learned and repeated. But the essence of the Christian religion is absent - or nearly so.
Is this the way you act? Is this the way you think?
This kind of thinking is not actually an acknowledgment of Jesus as the friend and companion of sinners. Instead, it seeks to turn him into a friend and companion of sin. But that is not what he is.
That is not what he was for you, on the day he was baptized. And that is not what he became in you, on the day you were baptized - when you were baptized into him, and into a relationship with him.
In his Epistle to the Ephesians, St. Paul both encourages and warns us, and all Christians:
“Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds. They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart. They have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. But that is not the way you learned Christ!”
And further on in the same Epistle, Paul continues this thought:
“Be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.”
“For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience.”
If you willfully and knowingly decide to disobey and defy God, and to embrace what God forbids, Jesus will not be your friend and companion in such a thing. You will walk that pathway, into the darkness, alone.
In your baptism - which unites you to his baptism, and to everything that his baptism means - Jesus does not become like you. But you, by his redeeming and regenerating grace, do become like him. In his Second Epistle, St. Peter writes:
“His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.”
“For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love.”
In the new nature that Christ’s Spirit births within you, you, like Jesus, become a hater of sin. You become one who hates your own sin, because of the harm it does in your relationship with God, in your relationships with other people, and inside of yourself.
According to who you are in Christ, you will always fight against sin. Now, you may not always win. Indeed, in this life, if we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. But you will always fight.
In your new nature, which bears the image of Christ, you will always hate your sin, even as Jesus hates it. And you will always love him, even as he loves you.
Jesus was baptized, with you and for you, because of his love for you - and indeed because of his love for all men. On account of that love, he became the friend and companion of sinners: penitent and hurting sinners; weak and struggling sinners. He became your friend and companion.
Under the mystery of God’s righteous demands, and of God’s redeeming mercy, Jesus took your sin - your damnable and miserable sin - off of you, and allowed it to be hung upon himself. He did this in his baptism: in a way that pointed forward to his coming death and resurrection; and in a way that was mystically connected to his coming death and resurrection.
In a sermon that Martin Luther preached on today’s Gospel, the reformer offers a deep and thoughtful explanation of the saving work that was accomplished for all of us, by and through the baptism of Jesus our substitute.
He explains why it was indeed “fitting” for the righteous Jesus to be baptized with a baptism intended for unrighteous sinners, in order to fulfill all righteousness. Let us listen:
“Isaiah 53 says: ‘The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.’ For since we...‘all like sheep have gone astray,’ God found this remedy: He took the sins of all human beings and hung them around the neck of Him who alone was without sin. He thus becomes a great sinner - indeed the greatest sinner of all and the only sinner on earth - so that there is no other. ...”
“Because He has become the Sinner who has all of our sin placed upon Him, He truly does need Baptism, and must be baptized for the forgiveness of sins - not with respect to His own person, which is innocent and spotless, but for the sake of us, whose sins He bears. He plunges them into His Baptism and washes them away from Himself (that is, He washes them from us, since He has stepped into our person), so that they must be drowned and die in His Baptism.” So far Luther.
In his baptism, Jesus was humanity’s substitute and Savior - even as he was humanity’s substitute and Savior in his death and resurrection.
Jesus earned, and in himself established, an objective forgiveness of all the human sins that he carried into the waters of his baptism, and that he plunged into those waters - leaving them there as he arose from those waters.
And he now distributes the blessings of that plunging and that arising - and the transforming reality of that forgiveness - to the world, and to you, in his Word and Sacrament.
Jesus took upon himself the sins of the world, and therefore also your sins, and drowned them in his own baptism. And this lays the foundation for the personal drowning of sin that happens again, and at another level, every time a Christian is baptized today, is called to faith today, and becomes a new creature in Christ today.
In his own baptism, Jesus drowned your sins. In your baptism, which he administered to you through the hands and lips of one of his called servants, he drowned your sins yet again.
And he drowns them still, whenever the power of baptism - his and yours - is manifested in the daily repentance to which your conscience impels you, and in the daily faith to which God’s Spirit calls you.
From one perspective, you might think of your baptism as a “re-enactment” of Jesus’ baptism. And from another perspective, you might think of Jesus’ baptism as a “pre-enactment” of your baptism.
Through your baptism, you are drawn up into Jesus’ baptism, and into everything that was done there, for you and for everyone. And through your baptism, by God’s design, Jesus is drawn down into you. As St. Paul writes to the Galatians:
“For in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.”
There is a reason why the divinely-given formula of Baptism is repeated at the beginning of the Rite of Confession and Absolution in which we participate every Sunday, pretty much before we do anything else in the service.
It is indeed “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” that we presume to approach God, in humility, and with sorrowful hearts to implore his forgiveness.
It is because of Baptism - the baptism that Jesus received for us, and the baptism that Jesus administered to us - that sins can be forgiven here and now, and are forgiven here and now.
This is what we yearn for, when we, in shame and fear, admit that we need Christ’s pardon and peace. And this is what we receive, when we, in joy and hope, trust in his Word, and by faith have his pardon and peace.
And then, with renewed gratitude for his compassion toward us, and for his desire to be a part of our lives, we welcome Jesus once again to be our friend and companion.
We do not welcome him as a friend and companion of our sin. But we do welcome him as the redeemer who has once again lifted from us the guilt of sin, and who has once again crushed within us the power of sin.
We together welcome him into our midst, and greet him as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, also as he comes among us in his Holy Supper. As the crowds at the Jordan River welcomed him into the company of the baptized, so too do we welcome him: to be our strength and our wisdom, our teacher and our guide, our protector from Satan and our justifier before God.
Within the Jordan’s crystal flood, In meekness, stands the Lamb of God,
And, sinless, sanctifies the wave, Mankind from sin to cleanse and save. Amen.
12 January 2023 - Funeral of Ruth Deglmann - Psalm 92: 1-5
“Qui cantat, bis orat.” This Latin proverb translates roughly to “The one who sings, prays twice.”
It was quoted by St. Augustine, by Martin Luther, and by a host of other Christian leaders and thinkers through the centuries: to emphasize the importance of singing, and of music in general, in the Christian tradition of prayer and worship.
It is not a coincidence that many of the great theologians in church history were also musicians, cantors, and hymn-writers. For Christians, believing and making music, teaching and singing, are completely natural combinations. We can’t even imagine a service in church that does not include music and singing.
Music is not something that is tacked onto our faith, as much as it is something that naturally flows out of that faith; and out of the joy that is ours, when we know that our God is a God of love and reconciliation, of redemption and forgiveness. And that is exactly the kind of God we have, and who has us, through the gospel of his Son Jesus Christ.
The faith of those who are gifted with musical ability is enriched by that music, when it is wed to their life of prayer and devotion. But also, the faith of others - in the larger fellowship of the church - is similarly enriched, when singers and musicians share their gift with their fellow believers, and use their gift in the service of God’s Word and worship.
The loving and forgiving God in whom we trust, and whose joyful praises we sing, is the same God in whom the believers of the Old Testament era also trusted, and whom they praised in song.
They also rejoiced in the many works of salvation that he had performed for them, and in the promises that he had made to them - promises that were ultimately fulfilled in Christ.
They could not contain their joy - and they didn’t try to! - but instead they glorified their Lord and Divine Protector in words of thanksgiving, with the harmonious strains of their music. We read in Psalm 92, beginning at the first verse:
“It is good to give thanks to the Lord, and to sing praises to Your name, O Most High; to declare Your lovingkindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness every night, on an instrument of ten strings, on the lute, and on the harp, with harmonious sound. For You, Lord, have made me glad through Your work; I will triumph in the works of Your hands. O Lord, how great are Your works! Your thoughts are very deep.”
Now, why am I taking so much time to talk about music and singing, in a sermon that is supposed to be about Ruth Deglmann and her faith? Well, I am speaking of these things precisely because Ruth’s faith was a faith that was especially marked by music and singing, and by the joy in Christ and his blessings that music and singing express.
Psalm 92 states that God’s people declare his lovingkindness and faithfulness “on an instrument of ten strings, on the lute, and on the harp, with harmonious sound.” According to the psalm, they know that it is a good thing - a supremely good thing - to sing praises to the name of the Most High.
Ruth also knew that it was a good thing to sing the Lord’s praises, and to make music to his glory on the instruments of our day. And so that is what she did, as an organist and as a singer.
In so doing, her faith and devotional life were enriched. And she also enriched the faith and devotional life of many others - both in her own family and in her larger church family.
What the psalmist says, as he exults in the goodness of the Lord, Ruth, as a believer in God’s goodness, also would have said: “For You, Lord, have made me glad through Your work; I will triumph in the works of Your hands.”
The work of God in Ruth’s life began with the work of her creation, by which Ruth was brought into existence as a member of the human race. She came into this world specifically as a member of a loving Norwegian-American family, in which she learned how to cook and bake like a Norwegian, and of course, how to sing like a Norwegian.
And in time, when Ruth and her husband Russell were joined in marriage, for life, by God, his gracious providence worked in such a way that she then had her own family, with three children. Her family now wasn’t as purely Norwegian as had been the family in which she grew up, but it was just as loving.
These were God’s works. And Ruth could have said - and probably did say - “O Lord, how great are Your works!” Ruth could have said - and probably did say - “It is good to give thanks to the Lord, and to sing praises to Your name.” She did give thanks, and she did sing his praises.
The Psalmist also says this in his prayer to the Lord: “Your thoughts are very deep.”
The blessings of life in this world that God graciously works for us - blessings of family and friends, of health and prosperity - are not shallow and unimportant blessings by any means. But there are blessings that involve God’s deeper thoughts, to address our deeper needs. These are the blessings, not of creation, but of redemption.
The human race into which Ruth was born - and into which we are all born - does indeed still bear the marks of the goodness of the Creator who made all things. But alongside the lingering evidence of God’s goodness, creation is also marred and disfigured by human sin.
It shouldn’t take too much effort for someone to become persuaded that all is not well in this world. And all is not well with us either - especially not in the condition that we are in when we come into the world.
St. Paul soberly reminds us, in his Epistle to the Romans, that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” But he immediately goes on to share this hopeful and healing truth: “and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith.”
God’s provision of a propitiation for the offense of sin in the crucifixion of Christ, and God’s justification of penitent sinners through faith in the risen Christ, are among his greatest and most important works.
As an active member of a church where these saving truths are confessed, Ruth rejoiced that she had been baptized into this salvation from sin and death. Ruth rejoiced that in the ongoing gift of the Sacrament of the Altar, she was sustained in this salvation from sin and death.
Ruth knew that her sins were forgiven before God through the atonement of Christ, and that she was an adopted child of God through the indwelling of the Spirit of Christ. She could not contain her joy in this knowledge - and she didn’t try to! The music and the hymns simply flowed out of her.
As a singer - a Christian singer - she sang about this salvation, with the deep gladness that God’s redemption and reconciliation in Christ bring to all who admit their need for this redemption and reconciliation.
Ruth, with a true and deep faith that had been worked in her by the grace of the Lord, acknowledged that it was indeed good to give thanks to the Lord for the gift of eternal life in Christ, and to sing praises to his name for this marvelous gift.
And she used her musical ability also to help others sing of these things, as she led the worship of this congregation, on the keyboard of its organ, on many, many occasions.
Ruth, and those whom she helped in their worship, rested in the Word of God, and were soothed by it, as that Word found poetic and musical expression in the many hymn texts that passed through her lips, and that were accompanied and underscored by her playing.
Truly, God’s works here in this place, over many years, included the works that he performed for the edification of the members of this congregation through Ruth, whom he had gifted for this purpose. And so, as we today remember her life and her service, we are thankful to the Lord, and sing his praises.
We, today, triumph in the works of his hands, as we celebrate Ruth’s triumph in Christ: as her spirit is with him now, and as we lay to rest in the earth her mortal remains, until the final day of resurrection and restoration which Christ has promised to her and to us.
For Ruth, her rest has indeed now come. Her singing voice in this world has now been silenced, and her musical hands on the keyboard have now been stilled.
But the song remains, and the music continues, because God in his faithfulness, and in his redeeming love, is still reaching out to all who yet live: inviting us to hear and heed his invitation to trust in him and receive his salvation, to glorify him in our music, and to sing his praises.
“It is good to give thanks to the Lord, and to sing praises to Your name, O Most High; to declare Your lovingkindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness every night, on an instrument of ten strings, on the lute, and on the harp, with harmonious sound. For You, Lord, have made me glad through Your work; I will triumph in the works of Your hands. O Lord, how great are Your works! Your thoughts are very deep.” Amen.
15 January 2023 - Epiphany 2 - John 2:1-11
If something is blessed by the presence and approval of Jesus, then that thing is - without a doubt - a good thing, to be enjoyed and celebrated.
Weddings are good. Marriages are good. Families are good. Or at least, they are supposed to be good.
But they are not always as good as they should be, or as good as God intended them to be. Sometimes, in fact, there are deep flaws and shortcomings in weddings, in marriages, and in families.
Today’s text from the Gospel of St. John recounts the familiar story of the wedding in Cana - at which Jesus, his mother, and his disciples were present at guests. This wedding started out as an unquestionably joyful occasion.
But then - as St. John reports - the wine ran out. There was now a deeply serious problem.
There was not a whole lot to celebrate in Galilee, in the first century. The people were poor, and oppressed by the corrupt and cruel government of the Herods.
But at a wedding - which was a multi-day affair - the friends and relatives of a bride and groom were able to forget about their troubles, even if just for a couple days. These were therapeutic and cathartic occasions. They were occasions for social healing and community rejoicing.
Hosting a wedding celebration at this time and place in history was, therefore, a great honor - and a great obligation. A lot of people would be counting on the host to make sure that there was plenty of music and singing, and plenty of food and drink.
A failure to provide enough of any of these things, would be a great failure indeed. It would “let down” a lot of people. And it would cause a level of embarrassment for the newly-married couple that they would have a hard time living down - especially in a small town - for months or even years.
The wedding in Cana that Jesus was attending, was accordingly facing a major problem, when it became known to a small number of people - including the Lord’s mother - that the wine had run out. Not enough of this staple for a Jewish wedding had been provided.
The hospitality that was being offered to the guests was inadequate. Someone was guilty of a major failure.
But Mary somehow knew that Jesus could do something about this problem, and that he would do something about it. And she was right.
“Now there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of purification of the Jews, containing twenty or thirty gallons apiece. Jesus said to [the servants], ‘Fill the waterpots with water.’ And they filled them up to the brim. And He said to them, ‘Draw some out now, and take it to the master of the feast.’ And they took it.”
In this, his first miracle, Jesus turned water into wine - good wine at that! - and saved the day. He saved the wedding celebration.
And at least in some respects, he saved the marriage. He protected this couple from the shame that would have come upon them, if this failure had become generally known, and if it had not been remedied by the Son of God.
Jesus did not draw any attention to this miracle as he performed it. Hardly anyone knew that it had happened. The master of the feast for sure, didn’t know that the original supply of wine had run out, and had been replenished in an extraordinary way.
Jesus had discreetly and graciously fixed the problem, without advertising that there had even been a problem.
“When the master of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom. And he said to him, ‘Every man at the beginning sets out the good wine, and when the guests have well drunk, then the inferior. You have kept the good wine until now!’”
Again, weddings are good. The wedding at Cana was good.
And the wedding at Cana was a lot better than it would have been, if Jesus had not been a part of it; and if Jesus had not covered over the shame, and filled in the gaps, of the human failures that otherwise would have marred and ruined that wedding.
If you are married, your wedding was a good thing, and your marriage today is still a good thing. The joining together of a man and a woman in a life-long committed relationship of close companionship and deep friendship - of shared love and mutual service - is an institution of God, to which he attaches the promise of many blessings.
And the family that usually arises from a marriage is also a good thing: in which parents and children, brothers and sisters, can build each other up, encourage each other, and show support and love for each other in many positive ways.
So, even if someone is not married, he, too, can - in most cases - still know and enjoy the blessings of God’s institution of marriage. In the case of a single person, it would be the blessings of his parents’ marriage - and of the family of brothers and sisters to which he belongs - which can be an enduring conduit of blessing to him.
And so, regardless of the role we may play in a family, our family, and the marriage or marriages that our family is based on, are things to be celebrated.
But just as was the case with the wedding in Cana, our weddings today - our marriages, and our families - fall short of what they are supposed to be.
The marriage of a man and a woman is indeed a divine institution. But ever since the fall of our first parents - the first married couple - those who get married, and who form families, are fallen, sinful humans.
We fail - we always fail - to live up to our wedding vows, fully and completely. And sometimes we fail abysmally.
We also fail in our responsibilities to others in our families: children and parents; brothers and sisters. And from within our families, we fail those who are outside of our families, but who had the right to expect more from us than they got.
Our “wine” runs out. Our supply of devotion and loyalty, of faithfulness and patience, runs dry, before our obligations to others are satisfied.
And so we come up short in what we offer to a spouse or another family member. And we come up short in what we receive from them, too.
Within the fallen families of our fallen race, we are all cheated. We are all disappointed. And we are humiliated and embarrassed by these shortcomings.
We are ashamed before others, when our inherent human weaknesses manifest themselves in these ways. And even if people outside the inner circle of our household are not aware of these failures - if we have succeeded in hiding some or all of these flaws - we are still ashamed, in our conscience, before God.
We know that we have not fulfilled the duties that we owe to each other within his institution. We know that we have broken his law.
And so, a wedding, a marriage, or a family, which are supposed to be occasions and settings for rejoicing and celebration, so often become, instead, occasions and settings for sadness and grief, for remorse and regret.
We have failed and fallen short. And by our own abilities and inner resources, we cannot fix what we have broken.
But that’s where the presence of Jesus in your life - at your wedding, and in your marriage - makes a very big difference.
Because Jesus had been invited to the wedding at Cana, he was available and able to save that wedding, and that marriage. And in love, he was willing to do so: intervening miraculously, yet discreetly, to make up for the shortcomings of those who were in charge of the hospitality that day.
Jesus graciously covered over the shame, and filled in the gaps, of the human failures that were evident on that occasion.
And if Jesus is a part of your life - if he is actively present in your family - he will graciously cover over the shame, and fill in the gaps, of your human failures. Yes, he will.
If you have hurt or failed your husband or wife - your son or daughter, your father or mother - Jesus will forgive you; and he will cover over your shame before him, on account of that sin, with his own righteousness.
And, he can and will comfort the one you have hurt, or let down, or disappointed. He will fill in the deficit of the love that your spouse or children expected from you, with his own perfect love.
If you have been wounded by the shortcomings or betrayals of your parents or siblings, your husband or wife, the grace of Christ takes away that hurt. By his stripes we are healed.
Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. On the cross, where he atoned for all human sin, he took away that sin.
This means, as far as your standing with God is concerned, that he takes away the sins you have committed: against others, and against God.
But this also means that if you have been the victim of sin, and if sins that have been committed against you weigh down on you, and make you feel humiliated and dirty, Jesus - as the Lamb of God - takes those sins away, too.
He lifts from your conscience, and cleanses from your emotions, the burden of your disappointments in others; and the burden of the pain that has been inflicted upon you by others.
But Jesus helps, forgives, and heals, not only with respect to such major failures in your relationships. He helps also with the little things: the small irritants, the minor shortcomings, the relatively unimportant personal faults.
These things can wear down a marriage, though. They can, over time, poison a relationship. They can erode respect, and dampen affection.
When Jesus is a guest at your wedding; and when his means of grace - through which he works - are present with you in your marriage and family every day thereafter, he helps you, through his gospel and sacraments, every day thereafter.
Jesus helps, by showing you how to love as he loves, with patience and forbearance. And, he helps you through teaching you, by his Word and Spirit.
He teaches husband and wife, parents and children, brothers and sisters: to repent together; to pray together; to believe together; and to forgive together.
But you know, when Jesus is a “guest” in your life, what that really means is that he is in charge of your life. And that is a good thing.
Jesus came to be in charge of the wine supply at the wedding of Cana. If he had not been, there would have been no wine.
And he comes to be in charge of fixing what you have broken in your relationships. He is in charge of saving you and your marriage. He is in charge of forgiving you, and healing you.
And he does not fail, or fall short, in what he does. Your sins really are removed from you as far as the east is from the west. And Jesus really does give you rest, when you are heavy-laden.
He fixes what you have broken in your family, and among your friends. Where you fail and fall short, he, as your perfect Savior, “does all things well.” And he make all things new.
And he is discreet. He will help you in ways that most people do not know about.
Perhaps a pastor in whom they have confided, or a small number of trusted Christian friends, might know about the struggles that a couple is going through. But a lot of people wouldn’t know. And a lot of people wouldn’t need to know.
But Jesus knows. Jesus cares. And by the power of his gospel - in sermon and Supper - Jesus turns water into wine for you.
Jesus takes care of your problem, and prevents the embarrassment that would otherwise come to you, if he had not taken care of it. If need be, by his Spirit who dwells within you, he renews a lost love. He restores a lost trust. He reestablishes a lost peace.
Sometimes, of course, due to circumstances that are beyond our control in this world, a broken marriage or family relationship cannot be healed or restored. But our broken hearts can be healed by God’s pardon and heavenly peace. And we as children of God, clothed in Christ and filled with the hope he gives, can be restored.
Jesus can then lead you by the hand into a new future, with new blessings to come. Sometimes you might think things are so bad that no one can make them better. But Jesus can make them better. In regard to his beloved sheep, He says, elsewhere in John’s Gospel: “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.”
If your family is still intact, but is currently under the strain of failures or shortcomings for which you are responsible - or of failures or shortcomings for which someone you love is responsible - before it is too late, invite Jesus to come to your wedding.
By a penitent faith - with unpretentious honesty about your need, and with a God-given confidence that Jesus will meet that need - receive him as your guest. And ask him to help you. He will.
What Psalm 28 says about the Lord, you will be able to say about your Lord, Jesus Christ:
“Blessed be the Lord, because He has heard the voice of my supplications! The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in Him, and I am helped; therefore my heart greatly rejoices, and with my song I will praise Him. The Lord is their strength, and He is the saving refuge of His anointed.” Amen.
22 January 2023 - Epiphany 3 - Matthew 8:1-13
The ministry of Jesus was marked by many physical healings, which he performed for those who were sick, lame, blind, deaf, or even dead. Usually, when he healed someone, he spoke to and over that person, and also touched the person.
St. Luke informs us of an earlier time when Jesus was in Capernaum, writing that “When the sun was setting, all those who had any who were sick with various diseases brought them to Him; and He laid His hands on every one of them and healed them.”
We see a very heart-warming example of this also in St. Mark’s Gospel, where we are told how Jesus raised Jairus’s daughter from physical death: “He took the child by the hand, and said to her, ‘Talitha, cumi,’ which is translated, ‘Little girl, I say to you, arise.’ Immediately the girl arose and walked, for she was twelve years of age.”
But at other times, when Jesus miraculously healed someone, he simply spoke the healing into the person, without a physical touch.
John’s Gospel reports that when Jesus was at the pool of Bethesda, he told a man, apparently without touching him: “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” Immediately the man was made well, took up his bed, and walked.
And when Jesus called Lazarus from the grave - also reported by John - he called out to him as he lay in his tomb: “Lazarus, come forth!” And he came forth. Even without a physical touch, the powerful and healing words of Jesus were able to bring someone who had been dead for four days, back to life.
Today’s Gospel from St. Matthew offers us accounts of both methods of healing - with a touch, and without a touch. The central story in today’s text involves Jesus interacting with a Roman centurion - basically the equivalent of an Army captain - with respect to the centurion’s sick servant.
According to St. Luke’s account of this incident, which gives us a little more detail than Matthew’s version, the Centurion approached Jesus through the mediation of the community elders, who told Jesus that “he loves our nation, and has built us a synagogue.”
All of this took place in Capernaum. I was in Capernaum just a little over a month ago. I was at the site of the synagogue that the centurion had generously built for the community there. This helps to bring this story to life for me. And maybe it will help me to bring it to life for you.
The story of the centurion is a story about faith. Let’s listen in.
“When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, pleading with Him, saying, ‘Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, dreadfully tormented.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘I will come and heal him.’”
“The centurion answered and said, ‘Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But only speak a word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under authority, having soldiers under me. And I say to this one, “Go,” and he goes; and to another, “Come,” and he comes; and to my servant, “Do this,” and he does it.’”
“When Jesus heard it, He marveled, and said to those who followed, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel!’”
There is a lot of misunderstanding about the nature of faith. The so-called “prosperity gospel” movement sees in faith a power to create things. If your faith is strong enough, you can - as it were - manipulate God into giving you what you want. If you don’t get what you ask for, then that means that your faith was not strong enough.
There is lot of danger in this teaching. It tends to create in those who are influenced by it, either pride, or despair.
Others see faith as little more than an intellectual knowledge and acceptance of the doctrines of the church. This is why the Council of Trent is able to teach that mortal sin can coexist with faith, and that someone who is destined for hell is nevertheless still able to have faith.
Now, faith does have an intellectual component. But that does not exhaust the definition of faith.
And faith does give us the confidence to call out to God in times of need, with the assurance that he hears our prayer. But our petitions and requests are always qualified by the recognition that God has the right to say No to them.
Faith, as Scripture defines it, is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” as we read in the Epistle to the Hebrews. Faith in God in particular is a trusting in God, and a confidence that what God tells us is true.
Faith is not based on wishful thinking, but it arises from a recognition of the authority of God to make things happen according to his will; and from a recognition of the reliability of God to mean what he says and to say what he means.
We don’t try to churn up within ourselves a faith in the things that we want to be true, in order to make them come true. Instead, our faith clings to what God tells us is true.
To be sure, there is a lot that God does not tell us. Most aspects of his infinite will, and most components of his mysterious plans, remain hidden from us. But when God does speak, we believe him.
Scripture says in several places, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.” Abraham did not simply believe in God’s existence - which is the kind of faith that even the devil has. He believed God.
When God spoke, Abraham knew that what God said was so. When God made a promise, Abraham knew that God would keep that promise.
And of course, God is to be believed not only when he makes promises, but also when he makes threats. God, also in his law, has the authority to be in charge of your life. And you have the obligation to recognize that authority.
When God tells you that you must honor father and mother, and others in authority, then you must do so. When God tells you that you must not murder or harm others, engage in sexual immorality, steal, or lie, then you must not do these things.
These commandments are not open for negotiation. And God is to be believed - with fear and trembling! - when he warns us of the temporal and eternal punishment that will come upon those who ignore him or defy him.
Jesus - who speaks for God, and who speaks as God - was to be believed when he warned his fellow Jews about the consequences of ignoring or defying God and his Word:
“I say to you that many will come from east and west, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the sons of the kingdom will be cast out into outer darkness. There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
And Jesus is to be believed when he warns you about the consequences of ignoring or defying God and his Word. It doesn’t matter how modern and enlightened you think yourself to be, in comparison to the old-fashioned morality of earlier generations.
Earlier generations are not speaking to you. The eternal Son of God in human flesh - before whose throne of judgment you will one day stand - is speaking to you.
A faith that believes what God says - and more precisely, that believes what God’s Son Jesus Christ says - is the kind of faith that the centurion had. And because of this faith - which recognized in Jesus a man with divine power and divine authority - the centurion knew that if Jesus spoke healing into his afflicted servant, even from a distance, his servant would be healed.
He didn’t need to see it in order to believe it. And Jesus did not visibly need to go to where the servant was, in order for this healing to work.
The Word of Jesus could and would make it work, even without a physical touch from Jesus to accompany that Word. And so Matthew rounds out the story:
“Then Jesus said to the centurion, ‘Go your way; and as you have believed, so let it be done for you.’ And his servant was healed that same hour.”
Today’s text does, however, include an account of another healing - one where Jesus did touch the hurting person as he spoke to him. We read:
“Behold, a leper came and worshiped Him, saying, ‘Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.’ Then Jesus put out His hand and touched him, saying, ‘I am willing; be cleansed.’ Immediately his leprosy was cleansed.”
It is noteworthy that Jesus physically touched this particular person, because he was not suffering from a “clean” ailment, like lameness or blindness. He was a leper.
He was “unclean,” both according to the ceremonial and social regulations of the Mosaic Law, and according to his actual, noxious physical condition. And, this leprosy was contagious.
But Jesus, with his authority and power to heal bodies, touched this. Jesus, with his authority and power to heal souls, touched him. And Jesus, with love and compassion, spoke healing and restoration into this man’s life, and removed this affliction from him.
Jesus speaks to you, and touches you, as well. Our Lord is not visibly walking the earth any more. So, people are not able to receive a natural touch from his natural hands any more.
But the authority and power of his words do still impact us. And he does touch us in supernatural ways - in tangible, sacramental ways - by means of the elements of the earth to which he unites his words, and to which he unites himself, in order to bring us his forgiveness, life, and salvation.
Jesus does still heal people physically. He usually does this through means. He works through the health care professionals whom he has called to serve us; and he works through the medicines that he has provided for us through the vocations of scientists and pharmaceutical researchers.
But sometimes Jesus heals us through outright miracles that the doctors cannot explain. Yet even then, he doesn’t come to us in a visible way and lay his hands on us. But, he didn’t do that for the centurion’s servant, either.
Yet that servant was healed, as his master believed that he would be. And sometime we are also healed in ways that no one expects. A difference, of course, is that Jesus spoke an audible word of healing with respect to the centurion’s servant, which the centurion could hear.
The centurion had asked for a healing for his servant before he knew what Jesus’ response would be. He was also sure that Jesus was capable of performing the healing, if it was his will to do so.
Yet the centurion did not believe in that healing until Jesus spoke it. And then he did believe it, even before he saw it.
When we ask for the healing of a bodily disease or injury, for ourselves or for someone we love, we don’t know if Jesus - from the right hand of the Father - is speaking that healing into existence for us, or not. And so, while we do have faith in his power to heal, we do not have faith in the healing itself until it happens.
But, when it comes to the healing of the soul, we can hear Jesus speak. In his parable of the pharisee and the tax collector, Jesus says:
“The tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified.”
And it could not be any other way, in light of God’s promise - expressed through the pen of the apostle John in his First Epistle - that “if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
And there are some specific words that you are able to hear from Jesus - spoken through the office of his called representatives - so that you can believe him when he speaks to you: not just believe in his existence, but believe that what he says to you is true.
As we read in St. Luke, Jesus tells those whom he sends forth in his name, “He who hears you, hears Me.” And according to John’s Gospel, he also tells his disciples: “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them.”
You hear the words: “By the authority of God and of my holy office, I forgive you all your sins.” Who is actually speaking those words to you?
You hear the words: “I, by virtue of my office, ...announce the grace of God to all of you, and in the stead and by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins.” Can you have faith that those words are true?
Can you be confident, as you hear these statements, that Jesus is speaking to you through his servant, and that Jesus is indeed healing your soul, cleansing your conscience, and restoring your relationship with your Father in heaven?
Yes, you can be. This is a healing - a real spiritual healing - that Jesus accomplishes, for you and in you, through the authority and power of his Word, even without a physical touch.
But sometimes there is a physical touch. When you come to the Lord’s table, marred by transgressions that you deeply regret - but that are still weighing on your conscience - you might wonder if Jesus is willing to help you, and to forgive you.
With a deep awareness of the “leprosy” of sin that has infected your mind and heart, and caused you to be “unclean” before God, your prayer to Jesus in this time of reflection may be the prayer of the leper in today’s text: “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.”
And what you then hear from Jesus, and receive from Jesus, is, in effect, what the leper heard and received: “Then Jesus put out His hand and touched him, saying, ‘I am willing; be cleansed.’”
What Jesus says and does to you - which is the equivalent for you of what he said and did to the leper - is embodied in these words:
“Take, eat; this is My body, which is given for you.” “Drink of it, all of you; this cup is the New Testament in My blood, which is shed for you and for many, for the remission of sins.”
He’s actually saying this. And he’s actually saying this to you. And, through the hand of his minister, the bread and wine that have been made to be his true body and blood, touch you. You can feel them on your lips and on your tongue.
According to the power of his Word and institution, Jesus’ body and blood are in your body and in your soul. Jesus is not afraid of your leprosy. By the divine authority of his Word, through his miraculous touch, he heals your leprosy. He lifts it from you, washes it off of you, and makes you clean.
And what he is telling you, as he touches you in body and soul, is true. He has the authority to say it, and he is saying it.
You can therefore believe the Savior who sacrificed his body on the cross for you, that your sins are forgiven. You can believe the Lord who shed his blood as your redemption price, that your sins have been removed from you as far as the east is from the west, and that your sins no longer separate you from God.
We close with this prayer to Jesus, our healer, from the hymnist Godfrey Thring:
Thou to whom the sick and dying Ever came, nor came in vain, Still with healing word replying To the wearied cry of pain;
Hear us, Jesus, as we meet Suppliants at Thy mercy-seat.So may sickness, sin and sadness To Thy healing power yield, Till the sick and sad, in gladness, Rescued, ransomed, cleansed, and healed,
One in Thee together meet, Pardoned at Thy judgment-seat. Amen.
29 January 2023 - Transfiguration - Matthew 17:1-9
“It is good for us to be here.” These were the words of Peter, recorded in today’s Gospel from St. Matthew, as he spoke on behalf of himself, James, and John, on the mount of transfiguration.
Of course, it could only be a good thing for them to be there, because the Lord had brought them there. Everything that the Lord does is good.
So, Jesus’ bringing these three disciples to this place, to participate in these events, had to be a good thing, to fulfill a good purpose. But why is it so, that “it is good for us to be here”? What was the purpose?
Peter thought that the reason why it was good for him and his friends to be there, was so that they could build tents, or temporary shelters, for Jesus and his two heavenly companions.
It was no doubt very windy on the top of that mountain, so it is understandable why Peter would think that this was something he could do, to make himself useful to God on this occasion. But he was mistaken in his thought that this is why it was good for him and the other two disciples to be there.
In the system of jurisprudence that God established through Moses for the Old Testament nation of Israel, guilt for a crime, or some other matter of legal importance, could be formally established only on the basis of the testimony of two or three witnesses. We read in the book of Deuteronomy:
“A single witness shall not suffice against a person for any crime or for any wrong in connection with any offense that he has committed. Only on the evidence of two witnesses or of three witnesses shall a charge be established.”
It’s likely that Jesus had this general principle in mind when he, in today’s Gospel, asked three of his disciples to come along with him, so that they would be able to see and hear what was going to happen on that mountaintop.
There were other occasions, too - such as his raising of Jairus’s daughter, and his agony in Gethsemane - when Jesus did not necessarily want a large number of people to be present, but when he did bring three of his disciples to serve as witnesses of what was going on.
This was for the benefit of people who were not there, and for the benefit of the church throughout history. Having three reliable eyewitnesses meant that there would be legally-binding testimony that the event in question has actually happened. And that’s the way it was also with the transfiguration of our Lord.
The otherworldly glory that was a proper attribute of Jesus’ divine nature, was otherwise hidden from human sight during the time of his earthly ministry. Jesus knew what an overwhelming thing it would be for people, in their human weakness and sinful frailty, even to have a glimpse of this glory.
And so he spared the people with whom he interacted the fear and confusion that would result from such a revelation. Instead, he conducted his ministry during his time on earth according to the unthreatening “ordinariness” of his human nature, in the form of a servant.
But in the transfiguration, Peter, James, and John did get a glimpse of Jesus’ hidden side. Jesus’ divine majesty was revealed to them, even if for just a few minutes. And as we would expect, “they were terrified” - as St. Mark’s version of the story tells us.
Now, Jesus wanted the church of the future to know that this had happened. That’s why these three witnesses were there - even though it scared them to be there.
They did later report what they had experienced to others - likely including the Gospel writers Matthew, Mark, and Luke, who by divine inspiration then wrote down what they had reported.
Indeed, Jesus wants us to know that his suffering and death - which followed this occurrence - was something that he freely chose to endure. He wants us to know that as the almighty Son of God in human flesh, he was not compelled by the Romans or the Jewish Sanhedrin to do anything that he did not, ultimately, wish to do.
At the deepest level, Christ was not pushed to his cross, externally, by his executioners. He was drawn to his cross, internally, by his own divine love for us - by his own divine love for you.
So, it was good for Peter, James, and John to be there, as witnesses on your behalf, and for your benefit. Their testimony - coming as it does from three reliable witnesses, through the pages of the New Testament - is the Lord’s guarantee to you that this really happened.
It is the Lord’s guarantee that Jesus was more than a great man. He was, and is, your eternal, divine Savior from sin and condemnation.
But there’s more to it even than that. The three disciples in question thought that it was good for them to be there so that they could do something for Jesus and his heavenly companions - that is, Moses and Elijah.
That way of thinking is one of the instinctive reactions that fallen humanity often has, in its confused and misguided perceptions of God, and of humanity’s standing before God.
When children of Adam - like us - consider God’s righteousness, in comparison to our own lack of righteousness, a common reaction is that we try to do something to bridge that gap - perhaps some external religious exercise, or an assortment of good works.
We know that God’s law demands from us more than we have been giving. And so, our misguided conscience impels us to do more, and to try harder, to make ourselves acceptable to God.
The old sinful nature - which is not lacking in a natural knowledge of God’s existence - often tries to invent a religion of self-improvement, or to throw itself into acts of altruism and humanitarianism, that it supposes will somehow protect it from the judgment of a holy God.
Like an employee who wants to avoid getting fired by his demanding boss, we look for something to do to make ourselves seem useful and worth keeping around. And so we may often find ourselves thinking in a way similar to how Peter thought, and maybe saying something similar to what Peter said, when we understand ourselves to be in the presence of God, and under the scrutiny of God.
Perhaps when you are in church, listening to the Word of God, or perhaps even when you are approaching the Lord’s Table, you might be silently saying to Jesus in your own confused way: “It is good that we are here.” “Let us make something for you.” “Let us do something for you.”
No, dear friends. That is not the reason why it is good that you are here, in the Lord’s presence.
In the ministry of Word and Sacrament by which the divine-human Christ makes himself to be mystically present among us in this assembly, he is not here so that you can build anything for him, or do anything for him.
The works of love that the Holy Spirit prompts us to perform - imperfect though they may be - are for the benefit of our neighbor in need. They are not for the benefit of God.
God doesn’t need our righteous deeds, even if it were possible for us to offer such deeds to him. But of course, in our sinfulness that’s not even possible.
As Isaiah reminds us: “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.”
The reason why it is good that we are here, is the same reason that was given to Peter by God the Father, in today’s text, when his booming and reverberating voice sounded forth from the cloud: “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear Him!”
Peter, James, and John were not on that mountaintop to build something for Jesus or to do something for Jesus, as they had originally thought. They were there to hear to Jesus. And it was good for them to be there, so that they could hear him.
Indeed, for the rest of the time of their Master’s earthly ministry, it was good for them to be seated at his feet, listening to his words: his words of rebuke and correction; his words of forgiveness and hope.
It was good for them to be there at the Last Supper - or what we might call the First Supper - to listen to the words of invitation and promise that Jesus spoke: “Take, eat; this is my body, which is given for you.” “Drink of it, all of you; this cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins.”
It was good for them to be there on Easter evening, to listen to the resurrected Savior when he came to them and said, “Peace be to you.”
It was good for them to be there, on the day of Pentecost and on every day after that - for the rest of their earthly lives - when they were able to continue to listen in faith to the loving and life-giving voice of their Lord, within the fellowship of the church, in the preaching of the gospel and in the administration of the sacraments.
And it is good for you to be here, too, in the same way, and for the same reason. In his life, in his death, and in his resurrection, Jesus took your place, and acted in your place and for your benefit. He lived for you, he died for you, and he rose again for you.
Jesus comes to you now in the preaching of the message of the cross, to make himself known to you as your Redeemer. As humanity’s Savior and as your Savior, he does not come to demand and to condemn. He comes to give, and to save. We read in St. John’s Gospel:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”
In the preaching of salvation by grace, by which sinners like you and me are forgiven our many failures and shortcomings, God does not demand perfect righteousness from us. He gives perfect righteousness to us: the perfect righteousness of his beloved Son.
And by God’s grace, we listen to this preaching. We listen when Jesus explains that “the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
We listen when Jesus announces that “The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.”
We listen, and we believe. And in this faith, we live.
In his Epistle to the Galatians, St. Paul writes that, just as “we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.”
Since this is a place where the gospel of our justification in Christ is preached - through which Jesus abides with us and sustains us - it is good that we are here. Since this is a place where the Lord’s sacramental words bring his body and blood to his people under the form of bread and wine - for pardon and spiritual strength - it is good that we are here.
Jesus is indeed God’s own beloved Son. And therefore we joyfully, and thankfully, hear him. Amen.