NOVEMBER 2024


3 November 2024 - All Saints - Romans 14:8-9

“For all the saints, Who from their labors rest,
Who Thee, by faith, Before the world confessed,
Thy name, O Jesus, Be forever blessed.”

“O blest communion, fellowship divine,
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.”

Today we are observing All Saints’ Sunday. Among the things we ponder today, as reflected in these stanzas from today’s first hymn, is the heavenly life which those who have gone before us in the faith now enjoy. We also consider the deep, mystic cords of Christian unity which cause us still to be “one body” with them.

On this day in particular, but truly on all days in which God’s Word is at work among us, we are renewed, by the gospel, in our faith: our faith in our one Savior Jesus Christ; and our faith in the one holy church of this Savior - the unity of which transcends even the divisions between earth and heaven; between bodily life and bodily death.

As Christians, we reject the notion that the dead are no more. Rather, their souls live on, awaiting their resurrection on the last day, even after their bodies are laid to rest in the earth. In the book of Ecclesiastes we read that at death “the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.”

Regarding his own life and ministry, and his desire to be of service to the church, St. Paul writes to the Philippians:

“My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account.”

When the apostle’s mantle was finally laid down, he did then depart to be with Christ. And he is with him still.

Our Lord spoke truthfully when he said in St. John’s Gospel: “everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” The dead still live. Their bodies return to the elements of the earth for a time - until the day of resurrection - but their immortal spirits live on.

As Jesus and the penitent thief were facing their deaths together on Calvary, the Savior spoke these words to his forgiven child, as recorded by St. Luke: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Sometimes, however, people may misapply the Biblical truth of the continuing existence of the saints in heaven, in ways that are not condoned by the Bible. A common practice among many is the invocation of the dead.

People pray to the saints, asking them for protection, for miracles, for spiritual strength, and in general for a whole lot of things for which they should actually be asking God. In Psalm 50 the Lord himself assures us:

“Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.”

There’s nothing that God in his mercy is unable or unwilling to do for a troubled Christian, according to his true needs as God knows and understands those needs. There would therefore never be any valid reason to ask a saint for the kind of blessings that Holy Scripture tells us are to be sought from the hand of God alone.

The Biblical truth of the continuing existence of the souls of the dead can be similarly misapplied in the mistaken notion that the spirits of our departed loved ones become our “guardian angels,” who actively watch over us in the affairs of our life; and who, in unseen ways, prevent bad things from happening to us, or bring successes to us.

There are protecting angels, of course, who are sent from the Lord to guard us from spiritual and temporal dangers. But the souls of departed human beings do not become angels.

Angels are a distinct kind of spiritual creature. In comparison to the angels, who are very busy, God’s human saints are at rest in the next life. As we read in the book of Revelation:

“‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ‘Blessed indeed,’ says the Spirit, ‘that they may rest from their labors...’”

Those who have been well catechized in the teachings of Scripture, and of our church, will not likely be tempted to embrace these mistaken beliefs. But there is yet another possible misapplication of the Biblical truth of the continuing existence of the faithful departed that may not be so easy for us to resist.

It is a great trial to lose a child, a spouse, or a parent to death. The grief that accompanies such losses can be hard to bear. For Christians, though, the comfort of God’s Word can and does sustain us in such times.

And one of the things to which a grieving parent, spouse, son, or daughter, will cling in such times, is the Biblical assurance that those who die in Christ do in fact live on, and that they are in heaven even now. These are the saints who are dearest to us.

But the Christ-centered faith of a bereaved Christian can be tested and strained, if he or she begins to yearn for a reunion with the deceased relative in the next world, in a manner that begins to overpower and overshadow the true basis for our heavenly hope. Listen again to St. Paul:

“My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.”

Christ Jesus is our heavenly hope. He alone has saved us from what would otherwise be an eternity of separation from God. He reconciled us, who were by nature children of wrath, to our heavenly Father, so that we are now children of God who know his love.

In his atoning death as our substitute under the judgment of the divine law, Jesus redeemed us, and was the propitiation for our sins. He has forgiven our sins, and still richly forgives them.

In his resurrection, our Savior opened for us the way of everlasting life. Through faith in his gracious promises, we know that in him we will indeed live forever.

Consequently, no one but Christ deserves our highest loyalty. No one but Christ deserves our deepest devotion.

Any loyalty or devotion that puts something or someone in a higher position than Christ - in our hearts, and in our aspirations - is a dangerous idolatry. As recorded in St. Matthew, Jesus soberly declares:

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

When you reflect on the joys that you hope to experience in heaven, what, or who, do you think of first? At the emotional level, if not at the intellectual level, for whose companionship do you chiefly yearn?

Is it the Lord - who purchased and redeemed you with his own blood - who comes to mind first? Or is it someone else?

It’s not wrong to cherish the memory of departed loved ones. It’s not wrong to continue to love them even when they are gone. But it is wrong to love them first, to love them best, to love them most.

You will not be ready to join your loved ones in heaven until your desire to do so is in its proper perspective: within and under your desire to be with Christ, to know Christ’s embrace, and to experience Christ’s unending fellowship in a realm where sin and death are no more.

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

But in our human weakness, how can we muster up within ourselves that kind of undiluted love for God? How can we make ourselves have a love for him that is as strong and undistracted as it needs to be? This is more than we can do!

Yes, it is more than we can do! Just as we could never save ourselves by our own works, or atone for our sins by our own sacrifices, so too we cannot love Christ, as he deserves to be loved, by our own strength.

Our love for him is, rather, his gift to us. St. John says in his First Epistle:

“In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. ... We love because he first loved us.”

You don’t really get yourself ready for heaven, and for the joys that your heavenly fellowship with Christ will bring. Christ gets you ready. He loves you, and he manifests his love whenever he gives himself to you in forgiveness and in his sustaining presence in your life.

He doesn’t demand love from you as a condition for his love, but he creates love in you by loving you first. St. Paul expresses it very well in his epistle to the Romans:

“God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person - though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die - but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

As the Epistle to the Hebrews guides us, we - in humility and hope - look to Jesus, “the founder and perfecter of our faith.” And the prayer of David, in Psalm 86, is accordingly our prayer:

“Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.”

If your love for Christ has been weak, Christ is answering your prayer, and is strengthening that love here and now, through the restoring grace of his gospel. If your devotion to Christ has been unsteady and wavering, Christ is bringing that devotion back into focus, here and now, through the renewing power of his forgiveness.

If your heart has not been firmly anchored to Christ alone as its one and only hope, Christ is sending his Spirit once again into your heart: to reclaim it, to renew it, and to reinvigorate its faith in his saving promises.

And Christ himself, your divine-human Savior, will come to you most intimately in the Holy Communion of his body and blood: to unite himself to you, and to transform you from the inside.

In all these ways, by God’s grace, “we grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ,” as St. Paul writes in his Epistle to the Ephesians.

Now, Jesus certainly died for your loved ones, too. Those who trusted in him in this life, and who have passed beyond this world into the next world, are indeed now waiting, with him, for you.

We may and should look forward to seeing them again: but only because they are with Christ, who is their Savior and ours; and only because they belong to the same Lord to whom we belong, who has purchased us all with his own precious blood, and who has joined us together in the eternal fellowship of his holy church.

In the meantime, as we wait for the end of our own earthly pilgrimage, and as we look forward to being with the Lord in his heavenly kingdom, we can ponder these words from St. Paul’s epistle to the Romans:

“If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.”

“For all the saints, Who from their labors rest,
Who Thee, by faith, Before the world confessed,
Thy name, O Jesus, Be forever blessed.”

“O blest communion, fellowship divine,
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.” Amen.


4 November 2024 - Donald Zeroth Funeral

I met Don Zeroth for the first time when I came to Princeton for a visit, after I had accepted the call to be the pastor here, but before I had actually moved here. He was putting a fresh coat of paint on the walls of what was to be my office.

That was the first of many times when I found him at the church, fixing something, maintaining something, or sprucing up something. Occasionally He could be found carrying out such activities assisted by his son Nathan.

A while back the church got a new air conditioning unit, mounted on the upper wall here in the sanctuary. It was not mounted in exactly the same place where the old unit had been, so there were a couple visible holes in the wall where the old one had been.

Eventually Don was able to borrow some scaffolding, so that he and Nathan came over and patched the holes that we had been looking at for several weeks.

The next Sunday I injected a little humor into our congregational gathering at their expense, by announcing after the service, with a serious voice, that our church was now less holy than it used to be, because of the Zeroths.

As people were waiting to hear what I would say next, with a smile I then pointed to the place in the wall where the holes had been, and said that they had patched the holes. And on behalf of the congregation I then thanked Don and Nathan for doing this.

But if I would have publicly thanked Don for all the little things he did for the maintenance and improvement of our church building, I would have been doing it almost every week. Don took great pride in the appearance of his church, and wanted to make sure that everything in this building was working correctly and efficiently.

This church was special to Don because the things that happened here were special to Don. This building is dedicated to be a place where the gospel of Jesus Christ is proclaimed, where the sacraments that he instituted are administered, and where his praises are sung.

As a congregational member and as a trustee, Don did not work hard to build up the physical structure of the church, for the sake of the physical structure in itself.

Don wanted this building to be here - and to be safe, attractive, and comfortable - so that there would be a place where God’s people could gather, and where the spiritual temple of Christ could be built up among them.

The idea of being a part of an eternal, living temple, is indeed one of the images that Holy Scripture uses to illustrate what it means for a Christian to be connected to Christ by faith, and through Christ to be connected in love to other believers.

The physical building or temple, which Don valued, is a symbol or picture of the spiritual temple of God’s united people - who gather inside of it - which Don valued even more. Using a quotation from the Book of Leviticus, St. Paul writes to the Christians in Corinth:

“For you are the temple of the living God. As God has said: ‘I will dwell in them and walk among them. I will be their God, and they shall be My people.’”

St. Paul writes this to us, too. And St. Peter writes something very similar.

Christ the Lord is the living cornerstone of God’s living temple; and all who trust in Christ are placed upon that foundation by God, the master mason:

“Coming to [the Lord] as to a living stone, rejected indeed by men, but chosen by God and precious, you also, as living stones, are being built up a spiritual house...”

Don, with great joy and delight, expended much effort to maintain this physical house of the Lord. But what was much more important to Don, was that he was himself a part of the Lord’s spiritual house. And he still is.

But he was not built into the spiritual temple of Christ by his own efforts. God in his grace chose Don, in Christ, before the foundation of the world. And God included him, even as he chooses and includes all the living stones who are a part of that living temple.

When Don came here for worship, he was continually drawn near to Christ by the inviting words of the gospel of Christ: as those words were preached, prayed, and sung. And especially in Holy Communion - in which Don was a frequent participant - Christ continually drew near to him: through his sacred body given into death for our sins, and through his sacred blood shed on the cross for our redemption.

Jesus forgave Don’s sins, every time he came to this house. And Jesus renewed in him his hope for eternal life, every time he came to this house.

Some people make excuses about not going to church, by claiming that they commune with God out in nature, while they are hunting and fishing. Well, Don likewise enjoyed hunting and fishing.

But he also knew that the deer and the walleye did not preach God’s Word to him, so as to strengthen his connection to the Lord’s spiritual temple. And so he went to church, too.

What happened there - what happened here - truly was important to him. It gave him a clear conscience before God. It guided him through life. And it prepared him for death.

Unlike those who get a terminal diagnosis, so that they know that the end of their earthly life is coming, Don didn’t know that death was coming, when it came for him quickly and in a totally unexpected way.

But he was ready for death nevertheless. He was a member of God’s family. He was a citizen of God’s kingdom. He was a living stone in God’s temple.

When your time to depart from this world approaches, you might see it coming, so that you would have a little time to set your affairs in order and to prepare yourself. But you might not see it coming. You might not have any advance warning.

So, with respect to your standing before God, and your readiness to meet God, you should make sure that you would always be ready to depart. On one occasion, Jesus said this to a friend who was mourning the death of her brother:

“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

Indeed, do you believe this? Don believed this.

But also, as Don’s life of service to so many shows us, when you are ready to die - through faith in the risen Christ, the victor over death - then you are also ready to live.

When you are at peace with God in your conscience, then you are able to find a deep fulfillment and true satisfaction in your enjoyment of God’s gifts, in your loving relationships with others in God’s name, and in the work that you cheerfully do for the benefit of others according to God’s vocation.

You might even be able to find fulfillment and satisfaction in little things that you could do to help keep your congregation’s church building clean and attractive, comfortable and accommodating: so that you and your neighbors will have a place to go, where God in his grace will include you in the living house of Christ, and will build you up on the foundation of Christ: by the ministry of the Word and Sacrament of Christ.

“Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.” Amen.


10 November 2024 - Trinity 24 - Mark 5:21-43

Today’s Gospel from St. Matthew gives us an abbreviated version of the story of the healing of the woman with a flow of blood. St. Mark gives us a fuller version of this story. We read there that

“There was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. For she said, ‘If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.’ And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.”

For many centuries, this story has been seen as an illustration of the nature and character of faith in the saving Word of Christ; and of the spiritual healing of the soul, that faith receives from Christ. The fourth-century church Father St. Ambrose said this:

“The woman was immediately healed, because she drew near to him in faith. And do you with faith touch but the hem of his garment. The torrential flow of worldly passions will be dried up by the warmth of the saving Word, if you but draw near to him with faith, if with like devotion you grasp at least the hem of his garment. O faith richer than all treasures! A faith stronger than all the powers of the body, more health-giving than all the physicians.”

As we examine this story - and seek to learn some things about the woman, and about Jesus, that might not be immediately evident - we will thereby also learn some important things about our own faith. And one thing that we should especially notice, is that as the woman approached Jesus, she did so, both in shame and embarrassment, and in hope and confidence.

Why would she have felt shame and embarrassment? Because she was a woman with a discharge of blood, and because Jesus was a pious and observant Jew.

In our society, a woman with this kind of problem - caused perhaps by something like endometriosis - would be understood by her family and friends to be suffering from an unfortunate medical infirmity, and nothing more. But among the people of Israel, there were social ramifications of this kind of condition, which were compounded by what the Law of Moses said concerning such a condition.

The Book of Leviticus states:

“If a woman has a discharge of blood for many days, ...all the days of the discharge she shall continue in uncleanness. As in the days of her impurity, she shall be unclean. Every bed on which she lies, all the days of her discharge, shall be to her as the bed of her impurity.”

“And everything on which she sits shall be unclean... And whoever touches these things shall be unclean, and shall wash his clothes and bathe himself in water and be unclean until the evening.”

The woman in today’s account was, by this standard, continuously “unclean.” Anything or anyone she ever touched, would also be considered “unclean.” And anyone who touched something she had touched was likewise “unclean,” according to the dictates of the ceremonial law.

This woman wanted to be healed. She had heard reports that Jesus had healed other people, by touching them. She was hopeful that Jesus could heal her as well.

But she also knew that if he were to touch her in the way that he had touched other sick, lame, blind, or deaf people, he would become unclean. She knew that he would become unclean also if he touched something that she had touched.

And she knew that Jesus knew this, too. So, she did not expect Jesus - as an observant Jew - to be willing to touch her and heal her, if she presented herself to him in a forthright manner, and told him the whole story of her problem.

Because of what the Mosaic Law said about someone like her, she was too ashamed to approach Jesus directly, and ask him for his help. That would have been too much to ask of a pious Jewish man, she thought. And so she resolved not to do it.

And yet there was still this hope - this yearning - for the healing that she sensed deep down she could still receive from Jesus. She sensed that there was something about Jesus that went deeper than his identify as an observant Jew.

There was something about him that was bigger, and more merciful, than the restrictions of the Mosaic law. And so she decided to take a chance, by sneaking up behind him, and touching just the fringe of his garment.

That too, of course, would have made Jesus ceremonially unclean, because he would thereby be touching something - namely, his own clothing - that had been touched by the unclean woman. But she was going to give it a try anyway, very discreetly, in a way that she hoped he would not notice.

In one way, her plan did work as she had hoped. She was healed. But in another way, things did not turn out as she expected. As soon as she had received her healing, St. Mark tells us that

“Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my garments?’”

We do see here some evidence of certain aspects of the mystery of the incarnation of the eternal Son of God in human flesh, and of the mystery of Jesus’ laying aside the full use of his divine powers and knowledge during the time of his life on earth.

According to his humanity, in his state of humiliation, Jesus did not consciously know who had received a healing from him. But according to his divinity - his loving and compassionate divinity - Jesus had graciously and willingly healed this woman.

In spite of her shame, her hope had been fulfilled. In spite of the human Jewishness of Jesus, Jesus as the incarnate Son of God had not been repelled from this “unclean” woman.

He had healed her, and caused her not to be unclean any more. And then he sought her out, so that he could talk to her; and so that she would know that he did care about her personally, and was willing to embrace her in his mercy.

St. Mark continues:

“He looked around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. And he said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.’”

Her faith had made her well - in her body, and now also in her mind and soul. She would go forth from this encounter with Jesus, not only with a sound and healthy body, but also in spiritual peace.

This woman’s approach to Jesus in her need is indeed an example for us, in how we approach the Lord. She approached him in shame and embarrassment, but also in hope and confidence. We, too, approach our Savior in shame and embarrassment, and also in hope and confidence.

The woman with the discharge of blood was judged by the ceremonial law of Israel to be unclean, as far as her life in society was concerned. We do not live under that law.

But we do live under the unchanging moral law of God, as embodied most clearly in the Ten Commandments. And we are judged by that universal law to be morally unclean before our holy God, because of our sins.

A true faith in Christ is always shaped by an awareness of this. We do not approach Jesus in prayer, and especially not in our participation in his Holy Supper, without a sense of shame on account of our moral failures.

When we assess ourselves in the light of the Ten Commandments, we are embarrassed before God. And so we know that if God is nevertheless willing to embrace us - and to allow us to embrace him - it will be because of his goodness, and not because of ours.

The proper Christian attitude toward God and the things of God is not a frivolous and unserious attitude. We do not come to Christ with a feeling of entitlement to his blessings.

Instead, we come in humility, and even with some fear and trepidation. We are ashamed of ourselves, as we ask him for forgiveness for our disobedience, because we know that we have no real excuse for that disobedience.

An honest comparison of the unrighteousness of our lives, to the righteousness of God’s moral law, would remove from us any illusion that we somehow deserve forgiveness, or any other blessing from God. We do not.

But in spite of this, we do come to him. And we come in hope.

We hope for his mercy; and we humbly expect to be healed in spirit, and to be enriched by his love, because God is not only holy and righteous, but is also merciful and loving.

This is not just wishful thinking on our part. He has proved that it is so, in the sending of his Son to be the Savior of the world.

Through the saving work of Jesus Christ, God has redeemed us from the guilt and power of sin, and has himself atoned for our many transgressions against his goodness. And we are confident that we will receive from Christ the help that we need, because God has promised that he will help us.

The Book of Lamentations assures us that

“The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.”

In Psalm 121, we therefore sing:

“From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

Jesus came to this world not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. Jesus comes among us now, in his Word and Sacrament, also to serve: to forgive, to heal, to save.

This is the gift of the gospel that God invites us to believe. And Jesus reinforces and underscores that divine invitation when he says, as reported by St. Matthew:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

We know, therefore, that we truly are welcome to approach Christ, to touch him, and to be touched by him.

During the time of his earthly ministry in the nation of Israel, our Lord’s body was cloaked and covered with the cloth and fabric of his literal clothing. Now, during the time of his exalted and mystical presence with his church - as his church makes disciples of all nations - Jesus is still cloaked and covered.

He, in his divine glory, is cloaked and covered today with the earthly elements of bread and wine, as he is truly present for us in the Lord’s Supper. He is present today in the midst of a whole crowd of people who, by the judgment of God’s moral law, would be counted as “unclean.”

But he comes to call such people - people like us - to repentance and faith. Specifically in his Supper, he comes to invite communicants to touch him, with lips and heart.

And by his forgiveness, he promises to heal our spirits, and to make us clean: on the inside, and before God. On another occasion, Jesus said:

“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

As the Great Physician from heaven, Jesus not only cleanses from our conscience the moral disease of sin that had made us unclean, but he also gives to us true spiritual health: the health that comes from the renewing and regenerating grace of his indwelling Spirit.

Jesus was not unwilling to be the friend and Savior of the woman with the discharge of blood, in her weakness and need - even though she feared that he might be. He is not unwilling to be your Savior either, in your weakness, and in your need for what only he can give.

Jesus will not turn us away, because of our uncleanness. He will not be repelled by us, on account of our failures and flaws.

As we reach out to him, and take hold of him by faith, we are assured that he also reaches out to us, takes hold of us, and will never let us go. And in the knowledge of this divine love, we are comforted by these words, also from Psalm 121:

“The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in From this time forth, and even forevermore.” Amen.


17 November 2024 - Trinity 25 - Mark 13:28-37

Please listen with me to a reading from the 13th chapter of the Gospel according to St. Mark, beginning at the 28th verse:

“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts out its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

So far our text.

These words come from a longer discourse, in which Jesus is speaking about the signs that will precede his second coming, and about what will and will not happen when this world comes to an end. One of the things he says is that

“this generation will not pass away until all these things take place.”

The term in the original Greek that is translated as “generation” is “genea.” It means a body or category of people who have been generated together, or who come from a common genetic or genealogical source. It does not necessarily mean people who are of the same age, or who are alive at the same time in history.

Jesus is not necessarily saying, therefore, that he will visibly return to the earth within the lifetime of the people who were then on the earth. The phrase “this generation” could also mean - and in the context does seem to mean - “this human family”: that is, the total body of Adam’s descendants.

In other words, the human race will not be destroyed before the end of the world occurs. At least some human beings will still be here at the end - even if there have been nuclear conflagrations, meteor strikes, worldwide epidemics, a global flood induced by climate change, or any of the other doomsday disasters that have been imagined by Hollywood script writers.

At a human level, there is some comfort in this promise. The stories we often hear about the willingness of parents to sacrifice themselves in times of extreme danger, so that their children will survive, are an indication of the inner desire that we all have, for the human family to which we belong to be perpetuated.

If our descendants, or those who come after us in the larger human family, live on, then a part of us also lives on in them. That’s the instinct for the survival of the species that inhabits people, even if at a subconscious level.

But there is more comfort in the words of Jesus than that. He also says:

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

The world in which we live is an ever-changing world. Many of the things of this world that we used to value, no longer exist. The ethical certainties that we used to be able to take for granted as a society, have been largely replaced in more recent decades by moral chaos.

Among the convictions that have been jettisoned by many in our time, is a belief that God is real, and a confidence that the Christian faith is true. As a history and genealogy buff, I often interact with people who - at a certain level - are very interested in knowing about their forebears, and about the times in which they lived; but who could not care less about the religious faith that animated and guided their ancestors.

Through the secular brainwashing to which students are often subjected in many schools and colleges, and through the influence of the general cultural environment of skepticism and relativism in which we all now live, there has been a massive loss of faith in our day.

There is a common assumption - as rampant as it is false - that science, and modern knowledge, have discredited the Bible. Jesus? Who was that? Did he really exist? He is probably just a made-up character.

And if he is not made up, then he was just an ordinary man who seems to have gotten himself in trouble with the authorities - and whose wife Mary Magdalene and daughter Sarah then fled from Palestine to ancient France.

Yes, people who think they are too smart to believe the firsthand eyewitness reports of the apostles, regarding who Jesus was and what he did, are willing to believe the fictional storyline of the DaVinci Code.

Yet in the midst of all the changes that are taking place in this world - intellectual, social, political, and moral changes - people do generally perceive that the world itself, and the cosmos of which our world is a part - will remain. Those who have given up faith in God, still do believe in the laws of physics that govern the planet, the solar system, the galaxy, and the universe.

That all seems so definite and so objective, even as the spiritual worldview of earlier centuries is now dismissed as irrelevant and silly. The cosmos is the one ultimate, unmovable reality.

The late Carl Sagan was the popular prophet of this new semi-religious certitude. And the scientists of our time, as a class, are perceived to be its priests.

Modern men, who cannot abide the dogmatism of Christianity, can so often be heard to declare that a certain matter is now a settled and unquestionable fact, because “science” has spoken, and has settled it. In such a context, among people who are caught up in this kind of thinking, what Jesus says today would be downright bizarre:

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

The cosmos - all that exists in the created order - will pass away. Someday, it will all be utterly transformed: purged by fire, renewed by its creator, and elevated to a new form of existence.

But the words of Jesus will not pass away. The words of Jesus will never pass away.

Jesus teaches elsewhere that the Holy Scriptures are divinely-inspired, and are of unquestionable authority among both men and angels. He also teaches elsewhere that his holy church - the communion of saints - is eternal, and that Satan’s machinations will never prevail against it.

But the precise point that Jesus is making in today’s text is different from those points. He is talking about his words - the words he spoke personally. He is talking about his specific predictions, his specific warnings, and his specific promises - spoken to his disciples and others, and infallibly recorded in the Four Gospels.

The Christian religion did not create the words of Jesus - as Bart Ehrman and other unbelieving scholars claim. Rather, the words of Jesus created the Christian religion.

After his crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus told his disciples to make disciples of all nations: by baptizing them, and by teaching them to observe all that he had commanded. They - we - were to pass on, to all newly baptized Christians, the words that Jesus had spoken. And Jesus promised, in conjunction with the fulfillment of this mission:

“I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Through the teaching of his commandments - of his words - he will be present with his church. Unlike any merely human words, there is something mystically powerful about the words of Jesus.

Whenever those divine words are spoken again, he is speaking them again. On another occasion, Jesus said to his disciples: “The one who hears you, hears me.”

The Lord’s promise of his abiding presence with his disciples is not made to them in the future tense, which is what we might have expected. He does not say, “I will be with you always.” He says, “I am with you always.”

Whenever the words of Jesus are spoken - his words which shall never pass away - Jesus is right there, making those words to be a personal address to those who are, in that moment, hearing them. The words of Jesus are never locked in the past.

They are always in the present. His words cannot ever be silenced, and buried on the ash-heap of history. They are always alive - supernaturally alive - because the resurrected Lord who speaks them is alive.

Jesus’ words are active and powerful, creating the faith that they call for. Therefore, no one - not the most ardent of communist propagandists; not the most clueless of university professors - will ever accurately be able to say, “Yeah, some people used to believe those words.”

Even as there will always be people on earth while the earth exists, so too will there always be people on earth who believe in Jesus - and who believe Jesus when he speaks his words to them.

His words reach out and grab people: penetrating to the heart, and filling the mind. They kill and they make alive. They drive the conscience to repentance, and they draw the conscience to faith.

They regenerate and save. They bring light in the midst of deep darkness. They vanquish evil and justify the ungodly. They make all things new. They sustain and preserve the people of God, for this life and for the life to come.

Nothing of this world is permanent. It will all, someday, pass away. But the words of Jesus will not pass away.

And, if you cling to those words, and find your identity and your hope in those words, you, too, will not pass away. When heaven and earth do pass away, you will remain, as a member of God’s family and as a citizen of God’s kingdom.

You will never perish, even as the words of Jesus - words which have encountered you and challenged you; healed you and re-created you - will never perish.

And Jesus is speaking those words to you. He didn’t just speak them in the past: so that the most you can do is sentimentally remember them, but not experience their power here and now. He is speaking them now. He is speaking them to you now.

By his words, Jesus is warning you about your sins, and about the harm your sins can and will cause: to you, and to your relationships with him and with other people. And he drives you to repentance. As we hear him in the Gospels, Jesus said, and Jesus says here and now:

“For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”

And by his words, Jesus is mystically coming to you with his pardon and peace, and he is inviting you to come to him in faith. As we hear him again in the Gospels, Jesus said, and Jesus says here and now:

“Son, your sins are forgiven.” “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

The church of Jesus Christ lives in his words, and by his words. And at the center of the church’s life are some very specific words of Jesus: words that fill the church with Christ and his forgiveness; words that protect the church against demonic threats and attacks; words that sacramentally unite the church to its Bridegroom and Head.

These special words of Jesus do not merely echo in the church. Whenever they are spoken, Jesus is right there speaking them afresh.

Through his ministers, he is speaking them. To his people, whom he loves, he is speaking them. Until he comes again in glory, he will speak them.

He says: “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.”

Do you want to experience something, and ponder something, that will never pass away or change? If so, then do not think about this earth. Do not think about anything that comes from this earth, or about the heavens that surround this earth.

Think about these words of Jesus. Listen to these words of Jesus whenever you have an opportunity to hear them.

Believe these words of Jesus. And as you believe, receive him and everything that he brings to you, in and through his words - his certain and unchanging words.

We will soon begin a new church year, and therefore we will soon begin again our annual liturgical discipline of following a familiar cycle of lessons, prayers, and hymns. These various texts will, over the course of a year, expose us to the whole counsel of God, as revealed in Holy Scripture.

Especially in the carefully-chosen readings from the Gospels that we will hear on each Sunday, the words of Jesus will sound forth. Jesus will be speaking to us from those sacred pages.

We will not just be reminded of what he said in the past - two-thousand years ago. We will hear him. And what his words do and accomplish, they will do and accomplish among us.

Do you sometimes have doubts about your faith? Do the secular voices that surround you sometimes wear you down, and cause you to wonder if what you believe as a Christian can really all be true?

Are you sometimes tempted to think - as so many people today do think - that the only things that are real and permanent, are the things of this cosmos - things you can see and touch? If this describes you at all - in whole or in part - then there is a solution, and a remedy, to that problem.

Come to church! Come on every Sunday of the church year, and listen attentively to the appointed Gospels for every Sunday of the church year.

And if you are sometimes not able to come in person, then come virtually. Every week, videos of the service are available online.

You can set aside whatever else you might do - for an hour or so - and you can watch and listen to that video. You can listen to the words of Jesus that are spoken through that video.

In whatever way you hear his words, allow his words to take hold of your mind and heart, as your mind and heart take hold of his words.

Find your life in those words. Find your hope and your destiny in those words. Find your forgiveness before God, and your eternal peace with God, in those words. Jesus said - or rather, Jesus says:

“Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” Amen.


24 November 2024 - Last Sunday - Psalm 39:4-5, 7-8

People have always been interested in knowing when the end of the world will come, and when judgment day will be upon us. During the Middle Ages, the approaching end of the first Christian millennium, around the year 1000 A.D., aroused a high level of apocalyptic expectation.

In the sixteenth century, the Lutheran Reformers were quite certain that the end of the world was at hand - although they refrained from specific date-setting. But the early eighteenth-century German Lutheran Biblical scholar Johann Albrecht Bengel predicted - on the basis of calculations mostly from the book of Daniel - that the world as we know it would come to an end in 1836.

Closer to home, here in America, the Baptist preacher William Miller proclaimed to his followers in the first half of the nineteenth century that 1843 would be the year of Christ’s return. When 1843 came and went with no such occurrence, the prediction was adjusted to the following year, 1844. Of course, that year came and went, too.

In our own time, interest in knowing when the end will come is not subsiding. Radio preacher Harold Camping began predicting in 2005, on the basis of his own decoding of Scriptural prophecy, that the world would be destroyed on October 21, 2011. It didn’t happen, and he went off the air.

Many with such a curiosity in our post-Christian age no longer limit themselves to fanciful interpretations of the Bible as their source material. For a while, the ancient calendar of the Mayan Indians was interpreted by some as indicating that the end of time will come in the year 2012. That didn’t happen, either.

Those of a more scientific bent have wondered if an asteroid called XF11 will come so close to the earth in the year 2028 - October 26 to be exact - that it will initiate a destructive geological cataclysm. I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that one.

But it’s also possible that the end of the world as we know it will be ushered in sooner than that, if the scary warnings we are currently hearing on the news about World War III possibly starting, involving several nuclear powers, come true.

Now, what are we to make of all of this? Jesus - together with the prophets before him, and the apostles after him - did tell us that the world in which we live will come to an end. Jesus also promised that he will return on the last day, to judge the living and the dead.

All of these human efforts to know when the end will come, can be seen as an indication that people do in fact have a sense of the truthfulness of what Jesus predicts. They know, deep down, that the earth as we now experience it will not endure forever.

And people also wonder what will happen to them when the world comes to an end. If we survive until the last day, what then? Will we be snuffed out, together with the world and everything in it? Or will we live on? And if we do live on, what will that be like?

And where will we stand in regard to God and his judgments? If our life and conduct are going to be weighed and sifted in the presence of our Creator, how will it come out for us in the end?

These questions occupy the thoughts of all of us, to a greater or lesser degree. I’m quite sure that all of us, at one time or another, have thought about the end of days, and about the end of our days.

Perhaps we perceive that the more we know about these things - or the more we think we know - the less scared we will be as we face the future.

But Jesus also says, “of that day and hour no one knows.” Only God is truly aware of his own timetable for such events.

So, all the efforts of human ingenuity, and of the human imagination, to plumb the depths of this mystery, will come to nothing. When the end does come, no one will have predicted it - beyond a general awareness that this day was coming.

The high level of interest in mastering the details of end-time prophecy that can be seen among many people in Christian history, and among many people today, is, I would suggest, a distraction - a dangerous distraction - from the things that humanity is really supposed to be thinking about.

As far as the visible second coming of Christ is concerned, it is enough for us to know in faith that this will happen, according to the Lord’s own schedule. Christ the Lord will come again with glory to judge both the living and the dead. His kingdom will have no end.

We confess this in the Creed, as we should. But for now, while we await the final consummation, it’s much more important for us to consider the ways in which Christ already comes to us here and now - while we are still living in this world, and while this world still survives.

The question of where we will stand at the end of the world - as far as God’s judgments are concerned - is intimately connected to the question of where we stand with God right now. In today’s Introit, from Psalm 39, King David reflects on his standing with God, and on his standing in the broad sweep of world history.

It’s remarkable to listen to what was said here by someone who was, at the time, a king, and an important person. In unpretentious honesty, David chants these sober and humble words to his God:

“Lord, make me to know my end, and what is the measure of my days, that I may know how frail I am. Indeed, You have made my days as handbreadths, and my age is as nothing before You; certainly every man at his best state is but vapor.”

During his lifetime, David was one of the most important men on the face of the earth. He was a king over God’s people, and a prophet.

But David knew that his short and fleeting life was as nothing before God, in his eternal glory. David’s human greatness, such as it was, would evaporate before the greatness of God.

David knew that when he would someday stand before the Lord, his short and relatively insignificant life had better stand for something of enduring value.

And he knew that if his life were to have something of enduring value about it, this would have to come from God. So, that’s why he went on to say:

“And now, Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You. Deliver me from all my transgressions.”

As David looked to the end - the end of his short life, and the end of the world - he looked with hope in God’s mercy. The ways in which God would use David, and the ways in which God would glorify his own name through David, were the only things that would give meaning and purpose to David’s life.

Now, if King David knew this to be true of himself, how much more should each of us know this to be true of us? “Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor.” That includes me, and you.

In and of yourself, you are vapor: a breath that disappears into the air when it is exhaled, or a mist that disappears in the morning sun. Your personal worldly successes, from the perspective of eternity, will be as nothing.

At the end, when you stand before the throne of judgment, do not expect God to be interested in a proud recounting of your accomplishments. If your hope then is not in God and in his merciful promises, you will have no hope.

But as with David, your hope can be in God. You can face the future with confidence. You can know where you will stand with God on judgment day, because you can know where you stand with God now.

David beseeches the Lord, “Deliver me from all my transgressions.” For the sake of the promised and coming Christ - “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world” - God heeded that prayer, and granted that request.

David’s sins - which were great and many - were like quicksand, pulling him down into damnation. By his own moral and spiritual strength he could not extract himself from that fate.

But God, for Christ’s sake, reached out his hand, and pulled David up from that muck and mire. God, for Christ’s sake, gave David a chance for a new beginning, and a fresh start. And God did this for him over and over again.

You, too, can be sure that God will hear you, when you speak such a prayer from your heart: “Deliver me from all my transgressions.”

For the sake of Christ - David’s Savior and yours, who now has come - you are delivered from your transgressions. God lifts you up from the muck and mire of your sin, sets you down on the solid ground of Christ’s grace and righteousness, and calls and empowers you for a life of love and service that honors him.

With the joy of a conscience that has been set free from the fear of God’s wrath - by God’s free Spirit - you are now able to look toward the end with a peaceful heart. Of course, you still don’t know when Christ will return to judge the living and the dead. That day remains hidden from you, and from everyone.

But when your Savior does return visibly to this world, to usher in the culmination of all things, you can and will know, with the certainty of the faith that the Holy Spirit works in you, that he will claim you as his own.

As you wait for this last day, you do not wait alone. As a church - as the body of Christ - we wait together. And with God’s Word we build one another up in our most holy faith.

But what’s even more important to consider is the fact that Christ is also with us. He already comes to us, mystically and invisibly, to prepare us for his final, visible return, which will take place on the last day.

In this life, while it lasts, we are already guests in the Lord’s spiritual house. And he is our gracious and generous host. David says it this way, in Psalm 39:

“For I am a sojourner with you, a guest, like all my fathers.”

Hidden under the earthly forms of human words, water, bread, and wine, Christ comes to us even now. He is with us, and we are with him.

When we speak of the Lord’s “second coming,” which we still await, we mean his second visible coming. We don’t mean to imply that Jesus is somehow locked away in a far distant place, separated from us and unable to be our companion in this life.

The number of times that the Lord has invisibly returned to the earth is far more than one or two. It is uncountable.

He comes again, to forgive us and save us, as many times as his gospel is proclaimed, and his absolution is pronounced. He comes again, to cleanse us and restore us, as many times as the sacrament of Baptism is administered.

And in particular, he comes again, to heal us and renew our hope, as many times as the sacrament of his body and blood is celebrated, and offered to his church.

It’s also true, of course, that those who partake of this Supper in hypocrisy and unbelief, without self-examination and repentance, and without faith in the words of Christ, do not receive a blessing from that participation. Yet those who commune in an unworthy manner do still have an encounter with Christ.

It’s the words of Christ that makes his body and blood to be present in the bread and wine, not the faith of the communicant. Therefore the unbelief of a hypocritical communicant doesn’t make the body and blood of Jesus go away.

But for such people, their encounter with Christ in the sacrament brings judgment upon them. St. Paul says in his First Epistle to the Corinthians that “anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself.”

This is a foretaste of that final word of condemnation that the wicked and unbelieving masses of fallen humanity will hear when the Lord divides the nations before him, as a shepherd divides the sheep from the goats.

But for those who, like David, have put their hope in the Lord, and in what he tells them, this sacrament is, rather, a foretaste of the final vindication and justification that will be ours, for the sake of Christ, on judgment day.

We know that Jesus will forgive us then, because Jesus does forgive us now. We will believe him then, and our hearts will be at peace then, because we believe him now, and our hearts are at peace now.

We are at peace with the Lord because of the Lord’s pardon, spoken from the cross of Jesus, and spoken to us here and now in the gospel and sacraments of Jesus.

We are forgiven because of the mercy of God, and not because of our achievements and successes. We are forgiven because of the mercy of God, in spite of our failures.

That’s how we live our life now, by faith, while this transient and temporary world remains. And that’s how we await the end of this world.

O God, our Help in ages past, Our Hope for years to come;
Be Thou our Guard while life shall last, And our eternal Home! Amen.


27 November 2024 - Thanksgiving Eve - Psalm 145:8-21

Please listen with me to these lines from Psalm 145, beginning at verse 8:

The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and great in mercy. The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all His works. All Your works shall praise You, O Lord, and Your saints shall bless You. They shall speak of the glory of Your kingdom, and talk of Your power, to make known to the sons of men His mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of His kingdom. Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and Your dominion endures throughout all generations. The Lord upholds all who fall, and raises up all who are bowed down. The eyes of all look expectantly to You, and You give them their food in due season. You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing. The Lord is righteous in all His ways, gracious in all His works. The Lord is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth. He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He also will hear their cry and save them. The Lord preserves all who love Him, but all the wicked He will destroy. My mouth shall speak the praise of the Lord, and all flesh shall bless His holy name forever and ever.

So far our text.

Several days ago I had a doctor’s appointment, for 2 o’clock in the afternoon. After the appointment I was going to have a blood draw. So, for that reason, I didn’t eat anything the morning of the appointment.

It had been a while since I had gone that long without something to eat, and by the time I was finished with my appointments for the day, I was feeling very hungry. But I also knew that it was going to be very easy to make that feeling of hunger go away.

My refrigerator at home was full of food. If it wasn’t, then the grocery store down the street was also full of food, and I had as much money as I needed to buy whatever I might want.

But as my stomach continued to growl, I also began to think about places in the world, even in our own time, where there are no refrigerators or grocery stores that are full of food. And I began to think about those people in the world, even in our own time, who don’t have enough money to buy the food they need even if that food were available.

Many people in the past, and some people today, have endured great trials, and have even starved, for a lack of food. Now, there has always been enough food in this world for everyone who lived in this world.

But there have been times when the food that some people needed, and that they might have had, did not get to them, either because of war, or human cruelty, or government corruption and inefficiency.

I was thinking about how easy it would be for me to eat. But I then began thinking about how easily my access to food could be cut off, if enemies of our country succeeded in bringing down the infrastructure and transportation grid of our economy, through some well-placed bombs, or through a high-tech computer attack.

In modern times, such things are not beyond the range of possibility. And so, with all these unsettling thoughts coursing through my mind, I did then begin to feel very grateful for things - for simple things - that previously I had taken for granted.

Why is life in this world so precarious, and sometimes so unpredictable? I can be thankful that I don’t need to know the answer to that question, in order to be thankful for God’s reliability and trustworthiness, and for his mercy toward me, even in the midst of fear and turmoil.

Why are so many people in this world indifferent to God, or even hostile to him, so that they are capable of immense cruelty? And why does God allow such men to bring harm to others?

I can be thankful that I don’t need to know the answers to these questions, either, in order to be thankful that God does take care of me and watch over me; and to be thankful that God addresses me and deals with me - personally - through the warnings and the promises of his Word.

It is perhaps easy to remember to thank God for big and noticeable blessings: a military or political victory; a successful medical operation or deliverance from a dangerous mishap; a joyful wedding or the birth of a healthy child.

But the little things - the small and common things - these things we too easily take for granted. Having a home, and shelter from the cold, are taken for granted. Having access to food, and having enough money to buy it, are taken for granted.

On Thanksgiving Day this year, let us not take these things for granted. Let us not take anything that we have received from the hand of the Lord for granted.

Let us remember instead - as Psalm 145 prompts us to remember - that The eyes of all look expectantly to him, and he gives them their food in due season. He opens his hand and satisfies the desire of every living thing.

He is righteous in all his ways, and gracious in all his works. He is near to all who call upon him: to all who call upon him in truth.

Let us call upon him, to thank him for everything that we enjoy in this life, and for everything that sustains us for this life. And let us call upon him to thank him for everything that he gives us even now, which prepares us for the life to come.

Psalm 145 also tells us that the Lord will fulfill the desire of those who fear him; and that he will hear their cry and save them.

In humility we do fear him, knowing that our sins have earned his anger and not his favor. But with peace in mind and heart, we also know that in his grace he will save us from our sins, and from their consequences.

He will save us from all that threatens our bodily life in this world, until such time as he is ready to call us out of this world. Through the sending of his Son into the world in the incarnation, and through the sending of his Son into our lives in the means of grace, the Lord has also saved us - and will continue to save us - from all that separates us from him spiritually.

From the perspective of God’s holy and righteous perfection, his willingness to forgive our sins is not something that we should take for granted.

According to his holiness and righteousness, God does not owe us forgiveness. We are not entitled to a second chance - or to a third, a fourth, or however many we may ask him to give us.

God would be justified in giving up on us, and in turning on us in his wrath, if he were to choose to do so. We have rebelled against him and dishonored him: in our thoughts, words, and deeds; by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

We are wicked, and deserve to be destroyed by God. But this he will not do, because the Lord is not only righteous in all his ways, but is also gracious in all his works.

Every time we hear the pastor say that in the stead and by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, he is bestowing God’s forgiveness upon us; and every time we hear, through the pastor’s lips, Jesus’ sacramental words, declaring to us that his body and blood are given and shed for us for the remission of our sins, we are thankful that God is not turning away from us - as he would have the right to do.

Instead, he is calling us back into his embrace, and is covering over and washing away all our transgressions. We are thankful for this every time this happens, because every time this happens, God would have had the right to do something else. So we don’t take his forgiveness for granted.

But the Lord has attached his forgiving grace to his word, and he has put his word into the mouths of his servants: with the command that we are to keep on doing what Jesus tells us to do at his sacred table; and with the promise that those who are forgiven in his name here on earth, truly are forgiven before him in heaven.

So, what God could do, God does not do. God could refuse to listen to us any more, when we confess our sins and ask for his pardon. But God does listen.

For the sake of Christ - whose death for us cannot be undone - he always listens. And for the sake of Christ - who is alive, never to die again - he always pardons. Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy endures forever.

Certainly we should thank God for big blessings, but also for seemingly small and common blessings: because what may seem to be small, really is big, too. Nothing should ever be taken for granted.

Having access to something to eat whenever we are hungry is a big blessing, not a small blessing. Having forgiveness for all our sins, whenever we repent and believe in Christ, is a big blessing, not a small blessing.

We close with these words from St. Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians:

“See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not be drunk with wine, in which is dissipation; but be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord, giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ...”

Amen.


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