Wednesday, December 22, 2010

The Season For The Reason


Luke 2:1-7


In the name of Jesus.
“Merry Christmas.” As the season draws ever nearer, so do the frequency of christmas greetings, even after christmas has passed. And if we were to ask, “What’s so merry about christmas,” people at once answer, “Well, it’s the birthday of Jesus, the Savior.” But often, that is the extent of their answers because many of them do not know the reason why God had to be born into human flesh. And often, we too, perhaps because of the festive nature of the holidays, forget the real purpose of Christmas.
Our text says that Jesus was born when Caesar Augustus, Octavian, was emperor of Rome. This statement establishes two things: first, we can locate Jesus in a specific point in history. That means that Jesus isn’t merely fiction, a myth thought up by somebody who had too much time on his hands. And so many people today think that Jesus is only a myth, no different from Santa Claus. Jesus was born in a specific time, when Octavian was emperor, when Cyrenius was governor of Syria. Jesus was born in Bethlehem, where King David himself was born.
But not only that. It was also during that time that Herod the Great was king of the Jews, an almost unspeakably evil king ruled by fear and doubt. A king who did not brook talk about anyone succeeding him or anyone plotting to take his throne away from under his royal behind. And so, he has managed to kill off a number of relatives because he suspected them of plotting against him and his crown. That is also why he ordered the massacre of the children in Bethlehem.
In Bethlehem, because Joseph, foster father of Jesus, was of the lineage of David the king. Accompanying him was Mary, his bride, heavy with child. So heavy was this burden about to be born, and difficult was the road to Bethlehem: dusty, difficult.
And when they arrive at Bethlehem, they could not find suitable quarters because the inns were already filled with people who have come for the same reason: the census. And so they were forced to stay in a stable, a cave, really, where animals would shelter. And it is in that cave where Mary gave birth to her first born, inside a smelly cave fit only for animals to use. Mary wraps her baby in swaddling clothes and lays him on the feeding trough.
A difficult situation indeed, fit for a difficult time, full of fear and doubt. Eventually, the hapless family would have to run and hide in Egypt so they might not attract the attention of the insane king.
Is this the birth we celebrate everytime christmas comes prancing around the corner of our years? Is this the reason why we greeat each other with “merry christmas,” or “happy holidays”?
And if we dare, we ask the question, “Why was Jesus born?” The answer to that question comes thirty or so years later, when Jesus, arrested, beaten to a pulp, mocked, ridiculed, brought before Pilate, is sentenced to die by means of crucifixion. The baby born in a manger, whose birth the angels heralded with joy and singing, would grow up and be nailed on a cross. Why?
Because of our sin. Because we are sinful and we cannot save ourselves. Because we live as if there was no God, as if we were accountable to no one but ourselves. Because our hearts are full of envy, anger and avarice. Jesus was born so that he could die – FOR US. FOR YOU. Jesus was born so he could exchange his righteousness for our sin, what Luther called “The Happy Exchange.” The Lord cheerfully exchanged places with us: He exchanged his righteousness, his holiness for our wickedness and sin. Hear the words of Luther: “Lord Jesus, you are my righteousness, just as I am your sin. You have taken upon yourself what is mine and have given to me what is yours. You have taken upon yourself what you were not and have given to me what I was not.”
And because of what Jesus did on the cross, God has declared us righteous, because his only begotten Son bore our sin and nailed it to the cross with him. Our christmas is merry because someone was willing to experience a terrible sadness – on that first Good Friday, when he was nailed on the cross. There is meaning in our celebration of christmas because Jesus, by his death, gave the season a reason.
And because of his death, we have received his gifts of grace, forgiveness and life: his Word and his Sacraments, which give to us eternal life, the forgiveness of sins. The season gains reason.
And so, the next time you say, “merry christmas,” think of the cross, think of Good Friday, and your christmas will truly be joyful.
Merry Christmas, then, because Christ died for you so that your sins may be forgiven. Merry Christmas indeed, for Christ, by his death, has given the season its most wonderful reason -- his life. Merry Christmas, because this is the season of the Reason. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 1:7)

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

A Different Righteousness

The Fourth Sunday In Advent

Matthew 1:18-25


In the name of Jesus.
As I was reading our Gospel text for this Sunday, I couldn’t help thinking what Joseph might have thought, what he might have felt felt, when his bride to be, Mary, disclosed the unadulterated truth to him:
Mary : Er, Joseph, since we’re this close to being formally husband and wife, I have something to tell you.
Joseph: (still clueless) What is it, dear?
Mary : Promise you won’t go out and kill someone after you’ve heard this.
Joseph : Er, okay. What is it?
Mary : (heaving a sigh) Joseph, my love, I am pregnant.
Joseph : (would UNBELIEF be too strong a word to use at this point?) Er, what did you say?
Mary : I’m pregnant, Joseph, but it’s not what you think. Er, God made me pregnant, by his Holy Spirit.
Joseph : (Oh yeah. Right. And I’m Arnold Schwarzzeneger) All right. Whatever you say, dear. . .
(but whatever Joseph said, his actions spoke more loudly: for “Joseph, being a just (righteous) man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.” -Matthew 1:19b)
And as I read through the text, I kept saying to myself, Joseph’s an idiot. Why doesn’t he fall down on his knees and sing the Te Deum, or something? And I realize that, were I in Joseph’s place, I would probably react the same way, if not worse: I would not believe what Mary was saying.
We never really stop to consider this little family controversy during Advent, or Christmas, for that matter, do we? We are so busy preparing for the holidays, planning dinners and trips and vacations and parties that we totally overlook this crisis in Joseph’s household even before he is married.
Oh yes. And we are so pleased with the cuteness of those Christmas cards we see in bookstores: a quiet, starry evening; a quaint hut; Mary looking over her child as the baby Jesus quietly sleeps on fresh, clean hay; some sheep quietly grazing nearby; the wise men kneeling and worshipping the baby Jesus. This is frequently our concept of what Christmas is, or should be. And I guess we would be about right, for that is as far as our own righteousness, our own faith, would bring us. The question is, do we believe? For our own righteousness would not consider the anguish Mary must have felt when her bridegroom Joseph met her announcement with incredulity. Our own righteousness would not let us consider the shame Mary must have felt as she fled to the hill country where her cousin Elizabeth lived, just to get away from the suspicious eyes, the rumor filled tongues of her neighbors in Nazareth. In fact, lurking just beneath our own righteousness is unbelief. How can a girl be pregnant if there was no sexual act involved? I remember a TV show, Thirtysomething, in which Hope, a Christian, argues with her husband, Michael, who is Jewish, about the holidays. “Why do you even bother with Hannukah.” Hope asks. “Do you really believe a handful of Jews held off a huge army by using a bunch of lamps that miraculously wouldn’t run out of oil?” Michael explodes: “Oh, and Christmas makes more sense? Do you really believe an angel appeared to some teenage girl who then got pregnant without ever having had sex and traveled on horseback to Bethlehem where she spent the night in a barn and had a baby who turned out to be the Savior of the world?”
In a manner of speaking, Michael was only echoing what someone asked a long time ago, to another couple in the middle of a garden: “Do you really believe God would do something like that? Do you really believe?”
Well, that someone asks us again and again: “Do you really believe?” What, do you really believe that mere words can absolve you of all guilt? Do you really believe that plain water can save a mindless child from the eternal torments of hell? Do you really believe that a piece of bread and a drop of wine can give everlasting life? Do you really believe?
I am not saying that Joseph was a heartless, thoughtless lout. Contrary to that. I agree with St. Matthew. Joseph was a good man. He was a righteous man. I am saying, though, that Joseph’s own righteousness, his own faith, his idea of right and wrong, his concept of good and evil, what he thought would please or displease God, could only go so far, and no farther. And so does our own righteousness.
For our own righteousness can take us only so far, and no further. Our righteousness cannot fathom that a child born in a stable would end up nailed on a cross and lead us into the kingdom of heaven. Our righteousness cannot take us further than the bounds of our own goodness and strength. Our righteousness does not exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees. And our own righteousness, we realize, does not really amount to much, for we are sinful, filled with unbelief. Our own righteousness will drive us to despair.
GOSPEL
But the story of Joseph’s righteousness, our righteousness, does not end there. For while in the middle of mulling things over, something wonderful happens to Joseph. An angel appears to him and says the sweetest words Joseph will ever hear (well, apart from Mary telling him I love you): DO NOT BE AFRAID. Do not despair. For there is a righteousness greater than our own, a different righteousness. A righteousness, St. Paul says, that comes not from obeying the Law, but a righteousness that comes from God:
But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:
“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us).
God, by his Word, put his own righteousness in Joseph’s heart (as well as ours, for our own righteousness is the same as Joseph’s): the righteousness that he put in Mary’s womb. For Joseph. FOR US. And God’s righteouness is named Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins. And this he does by going to the cross to take the punishment for our sin, our righteousness, our unbelief. He takes our unbelief and exchanges that for his own righteousness, which he gives to us. And by Immanuel’s death, we have life. Eternal life.
And even today, Immanuel comes to us, through his Word, pronouncing us not gulity. He comes to us and saves us by water and his Word. He comes and gives us his very body and blood in the bread and the wine, for the forgiveness of our sins.
People of God, “do not be afraid. . .you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins. . .Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel,” which means that God, in Jesus, is with us, giving us grace, forgiveness and life through his Word and his Sacraments. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Great Disappointments, Greater Savior

The Third Sunday In Advent

Matthew 11:2-15


In the name of Jesus.
Last Sunday we heard this peculiar prophet thundering in the wilderness about a coming Messiah, a coming King who will baptize not with water but with fire! Such a great expectation. This must be a great and powerful Messiah, greater even than the Roman Empire. He tells the truth about Herod’s sin and Herod claps him in jail. Now John the Baptizer waits eagerly for the expected Messiah to show his greatness. But he waits in vain. No overthrow, no rescue, nothing. John waits. Nothing. Finally, he tells two of his students to go to Jesus and ask him, “Are you he that is to come, or should we wait for another?”
When confronted by this question, we would think that Jesus would scold his herald John, but he does not. He instead comforts John:
Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.
What does Jesus mean? Well, why do the blind see? Why do the lame walk? Why are the lepers cleansed? Why are the dead raised? Because John’s prophecy has come true: the kingdom of God has come. For Jesus, the King, has come, and he is doing what a king should be doing: he is reigning, and he reigns by His Word. And his Word brings deliverance and life.
But Jesus tells his listeners something more.
What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? A man dressed in soft clothing? Behold, those who wear soft clothing are in kings' houses. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet.
The reed shaken by the wind is a reference to the soft life of a king, of Herod. And so, Jesus is asking, are you looking for a king? A man dressed as a king? Those people could be found in palaces. What did you go out to see? A prophet, who looks like a king, who dresses in three pice suits like Joel Osteen or any of those televangelists wearing expensive clothes. Well, Jesus is telling them now, well, here is your king, and look what he is doing. Is he living a soft and comfortable life? No, his life is hard because he is too poor to buy a decent sacrifice for the temple; does he wear fine clothing? At the end of his life, the only piece of clothing he had was one piece of seamless garment, which the soldiers throw dice for to see who gets it. Did they want to see a prophet? Well, here he is, preaching the Good News to the poor. And what is the Good News? That God, in Jesus, now reigns.
MALADY
And so, like the people in Jesus’ time, like John the Baptizer, we look for Messiah in all the wrong places, we expect Jesus to do all the wrong things. We look at Christmas the wrong way. For we imagine Christmas to be picture perfect, like the Christmas cards on display now in the bookstores: the nice and quiet star-filled evening, clear skies, the lambs quietly grazing, Mary looking down lovingly on the Christ child peacefully asleep in a quaintly decorated manger, the shepherds and the magi quietly kneeling to one side. And because we look at Christmas the wrong way, we therefore look at Advent the wrong way. We would like to see Advent as an intermission between Halloween and Christmas.
And because we expect to see Christ in all the wrong places and expect him to do all the wrong things. And when the King does the right things, the things we do not expect, we are disappointed with Christ.
Well, the truth is, we are the great disappointment, for we aree sinful.
We expect Jesus to be proud, but he comes to us humbly.
We expect Jesus to be rich, but he is poor.
We expect him to be a king, but he comes in the form of a servant.
We expect him to be mighty. Instead, he is weak.
GOSPEL
And yet, in spite of all our great disappointments at who and what Jesus is, in spite of our sin, Jesus does not disappoint, for his power is made manifest in his weakness. His riches are made manifest in poverty and meanness, and his majesty is made manifest in the cross. For we are blind and deaf and lame and dead in our sin.
And so, behold the man, who is poor and weak and powerless, hanging on the cross. But it is precisely by the cross that God’s power is seen in its fulness, for by the cross, the powers of death, hell and the devil are undone. By the cross Jesus has manifested his kingship. By the cross, we who are sinful have become righteous in God’s sight.
And it is precisely in the mean and poor things that Jesus chooses to reveal his majesty and power. By the mere speaking of his Word, he pronounces us forgiven of all our sin. By simple means, water, bread, wine, Jesus chooses to reveal his majesty and power, for these things, water accompanied by God’s Word, cleanses us of our sin and marks us as God’s children; the bread and wine, accompanied by God’s Word, become for us the true body and blood of Jesus the crucified, giving us grace, forgiveness and life. In these poor and simple things, Jesus chooses to reveal himself to us: prophet and king.
And so, if you would see Christ, look at the cross, for it is on the cross that Jesus reigns. By the cross he is King. And from the cross, his blessings flow to us, through Word and Sacraments.
We may be great disappointments, but one greater than us has come. But his greatness is not found in soft clothes or king’s palaces. His greatness comes from the cross, his death for our life. For from his cross, through his Word and Sacraments, we have received the most unexpected gifts: grace, forgivenes, eternal life. Because of Christ and him crucified for the forgiveness of our sins. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Gracious Invite

The Second Sunday In Advent

Matthew 3:1-12

In the name of Jesus.
The person who introduces the Kingdom of God in our Gospel text this morning is an incogrous spokesman. Instead of a polished speaker with a university degree in communications, he is a recluse, a hermit, really, who lives in the Judean desert and subsists on the food available in that inhospitable, barren wilderness, what some of us may consider bizarre, gross and unthinkably inedible.
His name is John the Baptizer, and he dresses strangely, disturbingly reminiscent of another sharp tongued prophet in the Old Testament: “What kind of man was he,” King Ahab asked his messengers, “who came to meet you and told you these things?” They answered him, “He wore a garment of hair, with a belt of leather about his waist.” And the king said, “It is Elijah the Tishbite.” (2 Kings 1:7-8) He has few manners that ingratiate him to those who come near him. Rather, his message is blunt and uncompromising. But it is simple enough: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Simple enough, that is, for those who would listen. John’s message would sound confusing at first, but then St. Matthew tells us the reason for his message:
this is he who was spoken of by the prophet Isaiah when he said,
“The voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Preparea the way of the Lord;
make his paths straight.’”

Many come forward and confessed their sins and were baptized by John. But not all. Somewhere in the fringe of the crowd there were the righteous ones, the ones who could not, would not believe that they needed to repent, much less be told by this shabby, smelly prophet of sorts what they ought to do, what God, he says, tells them to do. These were the Pharisees and the Sadducees, Israel’s religious leaders, responsible for the spiritual well being of God’s nation. But John knew who they were, and John knew their hearts, as well. And so he calls them “you brood of vipers!” And John proceeds to tell them what they most hate:
“Bear fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

What is John saying? Is he telling the fig tree to bear fruit? No. The tree will bear fruit whether we command it to bear fruit or not. John is saying that the Pharisees and Sadducees aren’t bearing fruit worthy of repentance NOT BECAUSE THEY AREN’T TRYING HARD ENOUGH, BUT BECAUSE THEY COULD NOT, simply because they would not repent. They would not accept the good and gracious invitation of the coming King, made through his herald, John.
And we smile and softly say, “stupid fools. See where that hard-headedness gets you.” And we would be right, of course, because we are stupid fools and hard-headed. We are, to say the least, recalcitrant people, and we defy God’s authority at every turn. We refuse to believe that we are guilty of the most grievous sin: unbelief. Unbelief in a good and gracious and forgiving God. That is why we are so unforgiving towards those who have sinned against us, or have made mistakes. That is why we think we are better than the fellow sitting in the pew beside us. Like the Pharisees and the Sadducees, we insistently think that we are Abraham’s children. That we are, by some human standard, better than others. But appealing to an authority like Abraham is useless when the King who will come to judge you is the King of all creation, yes, Abraham’s king, even! And so, like the Pharisees and Sadducees before us, we are undone, for we are as sinful as they were. We are as guilty as they were, and we deserve the same punishment for their hard-headedness for we too are hard-headed. We, too, are sinful.
And once more, we hear the prophet’s words: REPENT! FOR THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS AT HAND! But you must not take this as a stern command, but as an urgent appeal, a gentle and gracious invitation. You must hear this as Good News, and not Law. Why? Because the King has graciously acceeded to come to us poor, miserable sinners instead of us groveling at his feet, begging him for mercy in abject humiliation. The King has graciously turned his countenance upon us, and from the cross, we see not a frown of judgment, but a smile of forgiveness and grace. See, your King comes to you, lifted high upon a cross! The forgiveness he so graciously bestows upon the good for nothing thief he graciously bestows upon you also, for by the cross he is King! No merit or goodness will he accept from you, for he has decreed, by his death, that it is he who will do the giving. The King will give. The King will forgive. And this he does purely out of his livingkindness and grace.
And he gives us so much more than we can ever expect or repay! See! From the cross he gives you life, eternal life, by his death. He pronounces upon you his Word of forgiveness. His body broken, his blood shed he also gives to you, and you recieve grace and goodness and life! Your sins are forgiven – by the King who loved you and gave himself for you.
Beloved, through his herald John, the King graciously invites us to repent, not because we can, but because he will forgive. And he will forgive, because by the cross he is the King! This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)

Left Behind (Forgiven!)

First Sunday In Advent

Matthew 24:36-44


Grace to you and peace from God, our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. (Romans 1:7)
The season of Advent is always a time of anticipation, a time of preparation. Christmas is just around the corner and plans have to be made. Friends and relatives will be visiting, there will be Christmas parties left and right. There will be a lot of eating and drinking even as Christmas approaches. Oh, so many activities, not only in church, but also at home. Indeed, a lot of cooking and other preparations to be done. Well, at least we know what we are preparing for and when we’re supposed to be ready, huh.
Our text this morning, however, doesn’t quite have that happy, expectant tone. On the contrary, our text sounds gloomy, a harbinger of doom. What is all this talk anyway of not knowing when something or other will happen: “But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. As were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.”
But we are preparing for Jesus’ coming, aren’t we? Well, we’re preparing for something, but I doubt we’re preparing for the coming of the Lord. We are probably preparing to remember the birth of a cute little baby in a manger, all cozy and curled up in his little wooden cradle with some cute lambs, a cow or two, some people kneeling by his cradle; we’re probably getting ready to crank out the old familiar hymns: Away In A Manger, Silent Night, etc. And the malls are already blaring out Christmas music, which lagely goes unheard because people are busy doing their Christmas shopping and can’t be bothered right now. We are indeed preparing for something, but it isn’t for the coming of the Lord, the Son of Man, because the Son of Man himself says: No one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son. Could this be? Could we be very busy preparing for the wrong thing? Verse 38 seems to say so, for the Lord says that people will be busy doing everyday things: eating, drinking, marrying, giving away their children in marriage. But, you might say, there’s nothing wrong with these things. These are good things. And I agree. But the minute we make these things the focus of our lives, then they become bad things. The people in Noah’s day were taken unawares by the flood precisely because their focus were on these things. Exactly the things we focus on these days. And we simply describe these days as “the holiday rush.” What about church? Well, give a little, go once in a while; listen, but not too closely, especially when the pastor says we are bad. Well, why not give a listen to that preacher who says you can be a better you? Wouldn’t it be better to listen to Oprah? They have a way with words that make you feel good. Surely, their Christmas message is better.
And what about that verse that says one will be taken and one will be left? Brrr! Left behind! Who wants to be left behind? I bet that pastor who keeps talking that gloom and doom talk will be left behind. Wasn’t there a pastor who was left behind in those Left Behind novels? I bet he’d be one of them. Let’s not go to Grace Lutheran. Let’s go to that mega church in Lakewood. I bet that guy Osteen’s a better preacher. Dresses better, too, from what we’ve seen on TV.
Beloved, if this is what you’re thinking, listen: Osteen, Oprah, those Left Behind books? They’re right. They will be taken. Like the people who drowned in Noah’s time were taken – TAKEN BY THE FLOOD: “they were unaware until the flood came and took them all away.” Oh, beloved, the Greek is so clear, for the Greek word that Matthew uses means “take away”! And so it will also be for those who prepare for the wrong things, those people who do not prepare for the coming of the Son of Man. They, you, will be taken away unawares, which is to say, you will perish. Because you have failed to prepare for the Son of Man’s coming. Because you are sinful. The Lord himself tells us that even he doesn’t know when his return will be, so it’s futile to calculate the time of his coming, because no one knows, no one can know the time of his return – except the Father alone. And on the day of his return, be sure of this: he will not come to save. He will come to judge. Those who failed to prepare for his coming will be taken away – taken away from him and to everlasting fire. And those who have prepared, who have put their trust in his Word and Sacraments? Why, they will be left behind – with their Lord, who came to be with them!
Even now, even as you squirm uncomfortably in your seats, you know you have not prepared. You know that everything you have done, every preparation you have made were all exercises in futility. Nothing you could do could ever prepare you for the coming of the Son of Man, and like the people in Noah’s day, you will be taken by the flood of the wrath of the Son of Man.
And so, dearly beloved, run! Hide! Get away from the wrath of the Judge! Hide behind his cross, for just as the ark of Noah was a refuge for Noah and his family, so the cross of Christ is a refuge for you. Nothing can harm you if the cross is your refuge. No flood will take you, no accusation can harm you, because you have taken refuge in the cross of Christ, the cross upon which he died – for you! His death on the cross, his body broken and his blood shed on the cross are the things which will prepare you for his coming. Trust that his death has purchased you, redeemed you from sin, death and the devil. In his cross you will find safety from the wrath to come when the Son of Man comes like a thief in the night. True, the coming of the Son of Man will be unexpected, and everyone will be caught unawares, but one thing remains sure and will ever remain sure: we are safe in the refuge of the cross of Christ, who died to save us from that awful day of his coming. We may not be able to stand before the judge, but the Son of Man, the Eschaton himself will stand for us who have put their trust in his Word and his Sacraments.
His Word, which pronounces you clean from all sins; his Sacraments, which give you forgiveness and life. These things, Word and Sacrament, assure you that you will not be taken when that unexpected time comes. His Word and Sacraments will make sure that you will be left behind – to be with our Lord when he comes again in glory.
Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken and one left. Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.
And you are ready, and you will be left behind, because you have put your trust in his Word and Sacraments, because you have put your trust in Christ, who loved you, and gave himself for you. This is most certainly true. This is most certainly for you.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. (Philippians 4:7)

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Martin Luther's Definition of Faith:


An excerpt from
"An Introduction to St. Paul's Letter to the Romans,"
Luther's German Bible of 1522
by Martin Luther, 1483-1546
Translated by Rev. Robert E. Smith
from DR. MARTIN LUTHER'S VERMISCHTE DEUTSCHE SCHRIFTEN.
Johann K. Irmischer, ed. Vol. 63
(Erlangen: Heyder and Zimmer, 1854), pp.124-125. [EA 63:124-125]
August 1994

Faith is not what some people think it is. Their human dream
is a delusion. Because they observe that faith is not followed by
good works or a better life, they fall into error, even though they
speak and hear much about faith. ``Faith is not enough,'' they
say, ``You must do good works, you must be pious to be saved.''
They think that, when you hear the gospel, you start working,
creating by your own strength a thankful heart which says, ``I
believe.'' That is what they think true faith is. But, because
this is a human idea, a dream, the heart never learns anything
from it, so it does nothing and reform doesn't come from this
`faith,' either.

Instead, faith is God's work in us, that changes us and gives
new birth from God. (John 1:13). It kills the Old Adam and makes us
completely different people. It changes our hearts, our spirits,
our thoughts and all our powers. It brings the Holy Spirit with
it. Yes, it is a living, creative, active and powerful thing, this
faith. Faith cannot help doing good works constantly. It doesn't
stop to ask if good works ought to be done, but before anyone
asks, it already has done them and continues to do them without
ceasing. Anyone who does not do good works in this manner is an
unbeliever. He stumbles around and looks for faith and good
works, even though he does not know what faith or good works are.
Yet he gossips and chatters about faith and good works with many
words.

Faith is a living, bold trust in God's grace, so certain of
God's favor that it would risk death a thousand times trusting in it.
Such confidence and knowledge of God's grace makes you happy,
joyful and bold in your relationship to God and all creatures. The
Holy Spirit makes this happen through faith. Because of it, you
freely, willingly and joyfully do good to everyone, serve
everyone, suffer all kinds of things, love and praise the God who
has shown you such grace. Thus, it is just as impossible to
separate faith and works as it is to separate heat and light from
fire! Therefore, watch out for your own false ideas and guard
against good-for-nothing gossips, who think they're smart enough
to define faith and works, but really are the greatest of fools.
Ask God to work faith in you, or you will remain forever without
faith, no matter what you wish, say or can do.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Daughter's Smile

(for Kate)

I watch you, sweet daughter,
Sleeping, blissfully at peace,
Oblivious, like a cat napping,
To the world that surrounds you,
When suddenly, your eyelids
Flutter open, light, like butterfly wings
And you are awake.
And in that moment
Bound by eternity,
Unbordered by time,
Your eyes find me
And you smile.
I marvel at your smile,
So wondrously vivid,
Splendid, like lightning.
It is a beatific smile:
A smile ordained by heaven.