Given Life
“God it is who has given you life in Christ Jesus.” (1 Corinthians 1:30a, LH)
Archive for November, 2009
Stand Up
Introduction
This is the sermon I preached at Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Beatrice, Neb., on Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 28-29, 2009, the weekend of the First Sunday of Advent.
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Readings
Jeremiah 33:14-16
Psalm 25:1-10
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
Luke 21:25-36
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Prayer
As we hear and heed your Word, O God, may it be for us a voice crying in the wilderness of our lives, calling us to prepare the way of the Lord, your Son and our Savior. Amen. (based on Luke 3:4b, NRSV)
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Message
Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel
are strange and terrifying.
They paint disturbing pictures
in our mind’s eye.
We can easily imagine
the heavens filling with inexplicable portents.
We can envision the stars and planets aligning
and speaking some apocalyptic message.
We can hear the deafening roar
of the rising waves of the seven seas.
This is not the territory of the faith that Lutherans usually inhabit.
We do make our confession each week,
speaking of our trust in Jesus Christ
“to come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.” (Nicene Creed, LBW, p. 64)
But, for the most part,
we live out our daily lives,
we make our plans for church and society,
and we dream about the future
as if this world and all that it contains will go on without end.
But Jesus tells us today
that this is not so.
He does not say that there may be signs sometime,
perhaps, maybe, if things break a certain way.
Instead, he promises us,
“There will be signs….
We will see the final and ultimate Advent,
‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’
with power and great glory.’” (Luke 21:25a, 27, NRSV)
We are not in the position of Jesus’ disciples,
who heard him speak these words
during his last and fatal visit to Jerusalem.
We stand on the resurrection side of the cross.
And so, for us, these are promises we have no reason to doubt.
Because if death could not hold Jesus in its grip,
no power in heaven, on earth, or in hell itself
can stand against his ability to keep any promise he makes.
The disciples’ questions go unspoken in Luke’s gospel.
But we can hear them in our thoughts.
When will these things happen?
How will we know where to turn?
In whom can we trust?
Jesus heard the disciples’ spoken and unvoiced doubts and worries.
And he hears us as well.
And in reply to our questions,
he turns to teaching, to a story, a parable.
You see the leaves turn the branches of trees green
when the air grows warm and the rains come.
You see these things, and you know it means Spring has arrived.
It’s the same with my Father’s Kingdom.
When you see these signs,
you can be sure the Kingdom is imminent, on its way,
breaking into your well-ordered lives,
bearing down upon the world.
That’s an answer,
but it leads us to ask more questions.
Is it coming?
How close is it?
Are these signs we see or aren’t they?
Will the kingdom come in our lifetimes?
Christians have been waiting for two millennia;
is it all waiting in vain?
Can we really trust God to keep his promise?
If we let ourselves ponder the end,
its ambiguities and uncertainties lead our minds and hearts to race,
to fill with thoughts and fears,
just as Jesus said,
“People will faint from fear and foreboding
of what is coming upon the world….” (Luke 21:26, NRSV)
We easily can feel fear grip us.
It squeezes our hearts tight,
twists our guts into a knot,
shakes our thoughts into a jumble.
Then we find ourselves cowering,
trying to hide from the world’s forces,
from the chaos and confusion they unleash upon us.
Fear of threats is our natural reaction.
We survive because fear protects us from danger and injury.
But again, because we stand together
with our Lord on the resurrection side of the cross,
fear, for us, is ultimately a sign of our doubt.
Because Christ has died and is risen,
he has broken free of death’s grip.
And so the powers of sin, death, and the devil
have no hold on him,
and in the end, no ultimate hold on us,
because we share in his death and resurrection.
Remember what St. Paul tells us in Romans 6,
“Do you not know that all of us
who have been baptized into Christ Jesus
were baptized into his death?
Therefore we have been buried with him
by baptism into death, so that,
just as Christ was raised from the dead
by the glory of the Father,
we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:3-4, NRSV)
We walk in newness of life.
This is the posture of faith, not of fear.
Fear is all about ducking and covering,
hiding and shrinking into the corners.
But faith is not at all like fear.
That’s why Jesus tells us,
“Now when these things begin to take place,
stand up and raise your heads,
because your redemption is coming near.” (Luke 21:28, NRSV)
And again he says to us,
“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down
with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life,
and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap.” (Luke 21:34-35a, NRSV)
And a little after that, he says,
“Be alert at all times,
praying that you may have the strength
to escape all these things that will take place,
and to stand before the Son of Man.” (Luke 21:36, NRSV)
Jesus calls us and equips us,
he gives us the strength and the resolve
that we need to face the forces
running loose in this world.
We can face them head on in faith,
and not with fear.
We can walk in that newness of life
and face this world and its sure and certain end
standing, alert, and on guard,
in the posture of faith.
And when the end comes,
even though we don’t know exactly when or how,
we will be in a position to look out ahead,
to watch, to spot the signs,
to “…see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’
with power and great glory.’” (Luke 21:27, NRSV)
And on that day,
we will witness the answer to our daily prayer,
“Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done on earth,
as it is in heaven.” (LBW, p. 71)
On that day, our cry to the Son of Man—
“Come, Lord Jesus!”—(LBW, p. 70)
will be answered in full and without a doubt. Amen.
Come Now
“Come now, let us set things right,
says the Lord:
Though your sins be like scarlet,
they may become white as snow;
Though they be crimson red,
they may become white as wool.” (Isaiah 1:18, LH)
Grow Strong
“But you, beloved, grow strong in your holy faith through prayer in the Holy Spirit. Persevere in God’s love, and welcome the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ which leads to life eternal.” (Jude 20-21, LH)
Thinking Godly Thoughts
“There are many things that are true, honorable, and just, many that are pure: think about them.” (Philippians 4:8, LH)
“Remember the Long Way”
Introduction
This is the sermon I preached at Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Beatrice, Neb., on Wednesday, Nov. 25, 2009, for the congregation’s annual Thanksgiving Eve service.
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Readings
Deuteronomy 8:1-10
Psalm 65
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Matthew 6:25-33
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Prayer
Long ago, O God, you spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets. Now in these last days, make us listen as you speak to us by your Son. Amen. (based on Hebrews 1:1-2, NRSV)
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Message
Sometimes when we hear a story,
we find it tugging at our hearts
for reasons we don’t fully understand.
The story of God leading Israel from bondage to freedom
under the reluctant leadership of Moses
is one of those stories.
It is epic in scope,
sweeping across the decades,
filled with a hero’s birth and unlikely rescue,
astute and visionary women,
hand-to-hand combat,
royal intrigue,
battles of wits,
chariot chases,
fantastic displays of divine power,
unlikely escapes,
and in the end, the triumph of the underdog.
This story reads like a compendium from which springs
almost every attractive and successful Hollywood blockbuster.
But despite these many appealing qualities,
my hunch is that the story’s true attraction for us
lies in quiet and subtle element.
Israel has always been—first and foremost—
a people of the promise, a community gathered around God almighty.
And he is the God who makes himself known by his Word.
Israel heard him speak this Word as promises, and at times, judgments.
To Abraham and Sarah, God promised descendents
as uncountable as the stars in the sky and the sand on the beach.
He called them to leave Ur of the Chaldeans, present-day Iraq,
and journey to a land unseen and unknown,
a land he promised would be theirs forever.
And then when Israel fled a famine
and landed in Egypt, she lost the land,
and eventually her freedom as well.
But when the people cried to God,
he heard them and raised up Moses
to liberate them from bondage under Pharaoh
and to return them to freedom in the land he had promised them.
This is where the story tugs at us:
in its quiet exploration
of the entwined promises of land and freedom.
How can we hear this story,
and not recall—
despite the histories of slaves and American Indians—
the great theme of our country’s founding,
its interlocking epic of land and freedom?
And so, as Moses and the people paused
on the plains of Moab,
before launching their conquest of Canaan
and regaining that promised land,
we pause as well, and listen with sympathy
to the words Moses shared in his address.
“Remember the long way,” he said.
And he reminded the people
of their forty years in the wilderness
and of God’s gracious and loving care for them,
despite their bouts of rebellion
and their acts of unfaithfulness to him.
It’s not hard for us to identify with this part of the story either.
Our country has wandered away from God,
just as each of us has strayed into the wilderness
and carried out our own acts of disobedience and idolatry.
But no matter what we have done,
personally or nationally,
we cannot wipe away God’s promises.
We cannot deter him from his plans for us.
We may be unfaithful to the covenant,
but we cannot make God break faith with us.
That’s why we can look back on the long way we have come
and see, through Israel’s eyes,
how God has humbled us and tested us.
And like Israel, we may find ourselves refined and purified,
made obedient, returned to the faith,
by the trials we have undergone at his holy and righteous hands.
God has “ma[d]e us understand
that one does not live by bread alone,
but by every word
that comes from the mouth of the LORD.” (Deuteronomy 8:3b, NRSV)
And so, we “kn[o]w then in []our heart[s] that as a parent disciplines a child
so the LORD []our God disciplines [us].” (Deuteronomy 8:5, NRSV)
We receive God’s blessings as gifts from him,
just as Israel was blessed by the abundance of the land.
And in response to these gifts—
to the land we have inherited,
the food that grows upon it,
the wood and stone and clay we fashion into homes,
the water that we and plants and animals need to live,
the opportunities we have to work,
the communities God raises up in our midst—
in return for these many blessings,
we join our voices with Israel’s people.
As Moses said to them, he says also to us,
“You shall eat your fill and bless the LORD your God
for the good land that he has given you.” (Deuteronomy 8:10, NRSV)
When we bless the Lord,
we give him thanks.
This is the root from which this national holiday grows.
And if you listen carefully,
you can hear these words of blessing and giving thanks
scattered throughout our liturgy
like good seeds scattered on the land.
“Blessed be God…and blessed be his kingdom….”
“By the work of your Spirit lead us to…give thanks for your benefits….”
“Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.”
“It is right to give him thanks and praise.”
“Blessed are you, Lord of heaven and earth.”
“We give thanks to you for the salvation you have prepared….”
“We give you thanks, almighty God….”
“Thanks be to God.”
This is our worship.
These are the words of thanksgiving
we offer in grateful obedience
to the God who gives us life,
who watches over us in the wilderness
and leads us into his land,
who blesses Israel and us
with all good things,
with health and strength and daily food,
and most especially for new life
through his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.
He invites us to share his Thanksgiving dinner.
He is the Host who offers himself for us,
that we may eat our fill
and bless the LORD our God. Amen.
In the Meantime…Coming Soon
Introduction
This article is the December 2009 installment of my monthly message in the parish newsletter for Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Beatrice, Neb.
Coming Soon
One of the little pleasures I enjoy is watching a movie in the theatre. I even look forward to seeing the previews screened before the main feature. Some previews will end with a definite promise: Opening Christmas Day. But others, scheduled for sometime further down the road, will only tantalize us with a vague promise: Coming Soon.
This leaves us with the bittersweet task of waiting. On the one hand, waiting requires us to defer the fulfillment of our expectation. But on the other hand, the anticipation that builds in us makes the fulfillment—when it arrives—that much more satisfying and worth the wait.
Advent
The Church begins a new year on Nov. 29. As is our tradition, we start with the season of Advent, the “little Lent,” a mildly penitential time. We find ourselves in the posture of waiting, expecting, anticipating, and preparing. We are getting ready for our Lord Jesus Christ to come to us. This is the meaning of the word “Advent”—from the Latin ad, meaning “to,” and venire, meaning “come.”
With our ancestors in the faith—Zechariah, Elizabeth, the Virgin Mary, Joseph, Simeon, Anna, and John the Baptist—we are looking for the coming of God’s Chosen One, the Messiah, his Anointed One, the Christ. We trust that Jesus is that one. And so we prepare for his coming.
Waiting and Watching
Our Labradoodle, Zeke, has an almost inhuman capacity to wait and to watch with patience. He will sit by the front window of our dining room—statue still—and watch vigilantly for whichever one of us is gone to return home. For Zeke, almost every day is a time of Advent.
When we leave, we don’t ever tell Zeke when we will return. But in his canine mind, it must be that he believes we are coming soon, or at least soon enough so that he can wait and watch.
Past, Present, and Future
For us, Advent is that time of preparing for Christ’s coming. Most obviously we ready ourselves to celebrate his birth. This is his coming as Mary’s infant son, the Word made flesh, Immanuel, meaning “God with us.”
But we also prepare ourselves for the coming of Jesus Christ into our lives. In Advent, we are reminded that every time we encounter him, we experience a Christmas moment. He is enfleshed in our midst—he is incarnate—when he comes to us in the washing of Holy Baptism, the renewing of our lives through Confession and Absolution, the proclaiming of his Word in the reading of Scripture and in preaching, and the sharing of his Body and Blood in Holy Communion.
And finally, Advent is that sacred time when we join with all of the Father’s “servants of every time and every place,” and cry out for our Lord to come again in the power of the Holy Spirit. In the Eucharist, we proclaim this mystery of faith: “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” And then in our Eucharistic Prayer, we join our voices with all of God’s people and cry out the ancient prayer of the faithful: “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (Rev. 22:20b, NRSV)
Definite and Open Promise
Come, Lord Jesus!
This is our prayer, the hope driving our preparation, the confession of faith empowering our time of waiting and watching. We trust the promise of our Lord, who says, “Surely I am coming soon.” (Rev. 22:20a, NRSV) And so we wait and we watch for that day when he will return to mark the end of this world, this life, these times of joy and pain.
On that day, the previews will end and the main feature will begin. We may not know the exact date the Kingdom will debut, but the promise, “Coming Soon,” is one we can trust.
Rescue and Punishment
“The Lord, indeed, knows how to rescue devout men from trial and how to continue the punishment of the wicked up to the day of judgment.” (2 Peter 2:9, LH)
Altogether Reliable
“Besides, we possess the prophetic message as something altogether reliable.” (2 Peter 1:19a, LH)
Life of Genuine Piety
“That divine power of his has freely bestowed on us everything necessary for a life of genuine piety through knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and power.” (2 Peter 1:3, LH)
