Speaker: Aaron Richert

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. But to borrow a phrase from one of my books called The People’s Bible Commentary, few chapters in all of scripture are as rich and as full of promise as Jeremiah chapter 31.

 

So here’s a quick rundown. The chapter begins with the promise that even though the people in exile in Babylon and Assyria, even though they might feel like their God has forgotten them, nothing could be farther from the truth. God never forgets his people.

 

And so the chapter opens with the words, Thus says the Lord, I have loved you with an eternal love. Therefore, I have continued my faithfulness to you. Because of his eternal love and faithfulness, God will restore his exiled people to their home in the promised land.

 

And so the prophet continues, Thus says the Lord, again I will build you and you shall be built, O virgin Israel. Again you shall adorn yourself with tambourines. You shall go forth in the dance of the merrymakers.

 

Again you shall plant vineyards and you shall enjoy the fruit. This new way of life described by God’s promise of restoration is a life of music and dancing and celebration. And the Lord promises more through the prophet.

 

He promises that he will gather his people from the farthest parts of the earth. Among them the blind and the lame and the pregnant woman and even she who is in labor. The great company will return.

 

He’s saying that God will clear the way for his people to return to their home. And it’ll be so clear and such an easy path to navigate that the lame and the pregnant and even a woman who is in the midst of giving birth will have no trouble with the journey. And the prophet continues more.

 

Hear the word of the Lord, O nations, and declare it in the coastlands far away. And say, he who scattered Israel will gather him and he will keep him as a shepherd keeps his flock. For the Lord has ransomed Jacob.

 

He has redeemed him from hands too strong for him. They shall come. They shall sing on the height of Zion.

 

They shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord. Their life will be like a watered garden. They will languish no more.

 

Then the young women will rejoice in the dance. The young men and the old will be merry and the Lord will turn their mourning into joy and he will comfort them and he will give them gladness instead of sorrow. Yes, Jeremiah chapter 31 is full of hope which is why today’s Old Testament reading from the middle of that chapter is so jarring.

 

It’s like a group of people walking along joyfully, singing and laughing who are surprised by a shriek of terror in the distance. Picture the heroes in the movie who think they have defeated the villain only to have the villain’s eyes shoot open at the last second unexpectedly for one last showdown. In Jeremiah 31, the people of God are returning from exile.

 

The God they had assumed had forgotten them has made himself known. He didn’t forget them. He delivered them and he was leading them back with joy and dancing but then a voice was heard in Ramah and it was lamentation and it was bitter weeping.

 

It is Rachel, Jacob’s wife, mother of Jacob’s favored sons. She’s weeping for her children and she refuses to be comforted for they are no more. It’s not difficult to see why Matthew thought this was a fitting prophecy to understand what happens with the death of those children in Bethlehem.

 

Before the first Christmas, the Lord had been silent for 400 years. No messages or no prophets and so the people of God were beginning to wonder if he had forgotten them and like the exiles in Jeremiah 31, the Lord continues to love his people with an eternal love. He remembered his promise and he sent his son in fulfillment of his covenant and the arrival of the Savior was met with singing and much rejoicing just like Jeremiah.

 

Angel hosts sang out in praise. Shepherds knelt before him. Even magi from a distant land came to honor the word made flesh and then in the midst of celebration and jubilation, a shriek is heard.

 

Herod orders the unthinkable and the unimaginable happens and so Rachel cries for her children refusing to be comforted. But such is the way of Satan. Such is his disdain for the gifts our Lord loves to give.

 

Satan is not the Lord of life and so he attacks life at every turn. He is the father of lies so he assaults the truth every chance he gets. He cannot bear to see joy and happiness among the people of God so he sows seeds of division and strife and anger.

 

When the Lord gives you a gift, Satan will try to steal it away. He will try to tear it down. The Lord gives us the gift of himself, gives us his name so that we can call upon him in every trouble, pray praise and give thanks and Satan attacks that gift.

 

He twists it. He tempts us to try and use God’s name to manipulate him, to call down curses and condemnations on our rivals. He tempts us to believe that if God doesn’t immediately give us what we ask or if God doesn’t do things the way we want them done, that he must be a distant God who has somehow forgotten us or maybe doesn’t love us or isn’t worthy of our praise and worship.

 

Our God sent his son into the world in order that the world might be saved through him. Satan tempts us to see Jesus as a new lawgiver, someone who makes demands on us that we could never fulfill. He tempts us to see Jesus as one who speaks words of condemnation and hatred because Satan hates our Lord and his gifts and he attacks them every chance he gets.

 

He hated the gift of the Savior and so he sought to destroy it, to steal that gift in its infancy. And while Jesus was protected so that he might fulfill his vocation as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, several others were caught in the crossfire. Rachel’s voice cried out in lamentation.

 

Take note, for when our Lord brings reconciliation and restoration into your life, Satan will take notice. When our Lord brings you back from exile and sin, Satan will not sit idly by as you journey down the path to paradise. He will attack.

 

He will send sadness and chaos and disaster, devastation, heartbreak, betrayal, anything else that he can think of to distract you, to tempt you, to doubt our Lord’s goodness, to drive you into despair. But thus says the Lord, keep your voice from weeping, keep your eyes from tears, for there is reward for your work, declares the Lord. They shall come back from the land of the enemy.

 

There is hope for your future, declares the Lord, and your children shall come back to their own country. There is hope for your future. Even when it feels like God has gone silent, there is hope for your future.

 

Even when it feels like the grief and the hardship of this life will overwhelm you, when you want to cry out in bitterness like Rachel weeping for her children, there is hope for your future. For your future rests in the hands of the God who keeps his promises, and he has promised you restoration. Those infants that Herod ordered killed in a fit of rage, they were not eternally harmed by a wicked king.

 

Now, in the words of John, they were joined to the choir singing a song of praise before the throne of the Lamb. And their parents grieved their loss, but in the words of the Apostle Paul, they did not grieve as if they have no hope. They lived in hope of the resurrection, when mother and child will be reunited in a new and perfect creation.

 

Such is the hope that seasons our grief, the hope that sustains us when God seems distant or silent. Because there is a hope for your future, declares the Lord. For the evil king was tricked, the child escaped, and he grew into the man who went to the cross for you.

 

And he was crucified for you, and he has risen for you, and he ascended for you, and he will come again to bring you home to him. There is hope for your future. For if you have been united with him in a death like his, you will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

 

The Christ has paved the way for God’s people to fulfill what the prophet Jeremiah saw, a great multitude from every corner of the earth streaming back to the promised land of the new creation. So do not be overwhelmed by despair when you hear the voice of Rachel weeping in your own life. There will be grief this side of heaven, but we do not grieve as if we had no hope.

 

We do not approach any hardship of our life as if we had no hope. For whatever this fallen world throws our way, whenever we or our loved ones get caught in the crossfire of Satan’s attacks on God’s gifts, no matter what happens in this world or in this life, there is hope for your future. For your future rests safely in the nail-marked hands of Jesus, and he protects you with his word of promise and forgiveness.

 

He strengthens you with his own body and blood, heavenly food for your journey, and he walks with you every step of the way. The one who escaped Herod is the one who watches over you, and he will bring you safely home. May God grant it for Jesus’ sake.

 

Amen.

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. And let us pray.

 

O Lord send forth your word into our ears that it may bear fruit in our lives in Jesus’ name. Amen. So we heard last week how the prophecies of Isaiah were given to different people in different times, different situations.

 

Today’s reading, one of those oracles spoken to King Ahaz. So let me set the scene for you. The southern kingdom of Judah, under the reign of Ahaz, lived in fear of invasion.

 

It was only a matter of time. Like storm clouds gathering on the horizon, the kingdom of Assyria continued conquering every other king in the region. And then, to make matters worse, two of Judah’s rivals, including the northern kingdom of Israel, well, they were threatening to invade Jerusalem before the Assyrians ever even got there.

 

These rival kings wanted to force Judah to fight with them against the Assyrians, but King Ahaz would not ally with his rivals. So the situation escalated to the point that these kingdoms had already once invaded Judah, captured Ahaz briefly before being forced to let him go, but now Ahaz was facing the threat of his rivals, combined with the much larger threat of the Assyrian empire. King Ahaz of Judah was faced with a choice.

 

Will he trust the Lord to protect and deliver the people of Judah, even though they had already been defeated by their rivals once, or will he try to work out a political bargain for himself? Would he try to protect himself and his kingdom, and most importantly to him, his reputation as a ruler? So while Ahaz was mulling over his options, the Lord sent the prophet Isaiah to him. Ahaz was a bad king. He had already made several decisions during his reign that demonstrated a lack of trust in God, a lack of trust in the Lord’s guidance, his protection, and yet despite the king’s repeated failings, God remains faithful to his people.

 

And so he sent the prophet Isaiah to tell Ahaz, be calm, live at peace, the threat of your rivals will be reduced to nothing. And that’s where today’s reading picks up. Isaiah was told to offer Ahaz a sign, any sign, anything as high as the highest heaven, as low as the depths of the dead, anything the king wanted to give the king confidence that the Lord would protect his people, that he would deliver his people in Jerusalem and Judah.

 

What does Ahaz do? He refuses. He offered a pious sounding excuse about not putting God to the test, but the simple fact is God is the one who offered the sign, and Ahaz simply didn’t want to trust in the Lord to deliver him, so he refused a sign from God. And that’s when Isaiah responds, hear then, O house of David, why do you waste God’s time? Behold, since you will not ask for a sign for yourself, you get the sign that God chooses, and this is it.

 

The virgin will conceive and bear a son, and you will call his name Emmanuel. And within a few short years from today, in roughly the time it takes a normal baby to learn how to walk and to talk, your rivals to the north will be conquered by the ruthless king of Assyria, and he will turn his sights to you. You will be in his crosshairs.

 

Those words, the virgin will conceive, they’re familiar words. We hear them a lot this time of year, but maybe we missed that the prophecy Matthew connects to the virgin birth was first spoken as part of a warning to a wicked king. Yes, it’s a promise of the Messiah, but to Ahaz, it was the promise first that his faithless actions would pave the way for the king of Assyria to reduce Jerusalem to rubble.

 

And the name of that child is Emmanuel, which means God with us. That seems to be the last thing that Ahaz wanted. He didn’t want God.

 

He preferred to rely on his own strength, his own wisdom, his own political savvy, and that proved to be his undoing. As I was talking through this text with one of our shut-in members this week, she made the comment, she said, Pastor, isn’t that just how people tend to think about God today? I think she’s right. How often when we hear of our Lord’s coming, do we wish he would just go somewhere else? How often do we push our Lord aside and tell him we’ve got this thing or that thing covered by ourselves? Or worse, how often do we nod our heads in agreement when the world tells us that God just steals all the fun out of life? We’d be better off without him.

 

How often does our sinful flesh look at our Lord as if he’s a cruel taskmaster who simply wants to do things for us instead of letting us choose and decide for ourselves? How often is our primary mental image of the God of the Bible an image of judgment and destruction? And how often do we, for whatever reason, by our words, by our actions, by our attitudes, how often do we act like Ahaz and tell our Lord to go away? Ever since our first parents hid when they heard the sound of God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, we humans seem to have an instinct to go the other direction when we hear our God approaching. But our Lord wasn’t coming to Adam in even judgment. And actually, he wasn’t really even coming to Ahaz in judgment.

 

The prophecy of the one who will be called Emmanuel is a layered prophecy. It might be a bit too nuanced to go dig deep right now, but basically the promise that judgment would arrive before the child was old enough to ride a tricycle, that was only part of the prophecy. The one who would be called Emmanuel shows up in other places in Isaiah, and the way he’s described in those places shows us that God is up to something bigger than just bringing judgment to King Ahaz.

 

Throughout the rest of the book of Isaiah, the one called Emmanuel always brings restoration. He brings renewal. To put it another way, Emmanuel is a gospel word, not a threat.

 

So even here in Isaiah’s prophecy to Ahaz, the first thing the Lord mentions through his prophet is Emmanuel. He speaks words of hope before mentioning the judgment or the destruction of Jerusalem. The faithless Ahaz would not put God to the test.

 

He wanted nothing to do with Yahweh. He wanted to handle his problems on his own, but Yahweh refuses to turn his back on his people. He may have given Ahaz over to his own delusions, but the wickedness of one king would not and cannot undo the promise of God.

 

What God is ultimately going to accomplish is to bring about the restoration of Israel. That’s why when the one who will be called Emmanuel is finally born, he’s given the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins. That name Jesus is the Greek form of the Hebrew name Joshua.

 

Like Mateo and Matthew, Pedro and Peter, Jesus and Joshua are the same name, just in different languages. And the name Joshua literally means Yahweh saves. And so Matthew begins his gospel by revealing to us that the one who is called Emmanuel is also called Yahweh saves.

 

So God is coming to be with his people, but he’s coming to save them. He is Emmanuel and he is Yeshua. The one born of the virgin will take up the role of the first Joshua and he will fulfill its true purpose.

 

He will lead his people through the water into the promised land, into their promised home. The first Joshua led the people across the River Jordan. The new Joshua will lead his people through the water of baptism.

 

The first Joshua led his people into the land of Canaan. The new Joshua will lead his people into their home. First the church, the foretaste of the feast to come, and then finally into the marriage feast of the lamb and his kingdom, which has no end.

 

The first Joshua drove out the enemies of the Lord’s people in that land. The new Joshua will defeat the enemies that try to attack and harm the people of God today. Because what was true for the people of God in the days of the first Joshua remains true for us who live under the care of the new Joshua.

 

The Lord fights for you. So put to death not only the old Adam in you, but put to death also the old Ahaz. Do not rely on your own strength in your battles against whatever Assyrians are gathering their forces on the borders of your life.

 

Don’t try to negotiate your way out of conflict with the devil, the world, and your sinful flesh. It’s a fool’s errand. Repent of such thinking and rejoice that the virgin has conceived and bore the son for you.

 

He is your God who comes to set you free. He comes to you today to restore your life, to bring you renewal. He is Emmanuel and his name is Jesus.

 

Enthrone him in your hearts and let him subdue all that is not holy and all that is not true. Let his will enfold you in its light and power. Join your voice to the prayer of God’s faithful people.

 

Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set your people free from our sins, from our fears. Release us. Let us find our rest in thee.

 

Born thy people to deliver, born a child and yet a king, born to reign in us forever, now thy gracious kingdom bring. And by thine own eternal spirit, rule in all our hearts alone. By thine all-sufficient merit, raise us to thy glorious throne.

 

May God grant it to us for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

 

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. And let us pray.

 

Oh Lord, send forth your word into our ears, that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name. Amen. So today is the second Sunday in Advent, and it’s a Sunday that is historically referred to as Populus Zion.

 

It simply means the people of Zion. It’s a Sunday that offers us the opportunity to meditate on what it means to be the people of God. Time to reflect on our life together with Christians around the world, and especially time to consider our life with our brothers and sisters in Christ in this place.

 

For we are the people of Zion here, the Populus Zion. Now there are many things that would divide us as people. Some are not really all that serious, like sports allegiances.

 

You guys know that I root for the Wolverines, Detroit sports teams. Others root for different teams. But regardless of how passionate fan bases can get, in the grand scheme of things, it’s really not that important.

 

There’s a whole host of people out there who really couldn’t care less about football, or basketball, or any other sports, and that’s fine. Because our unity as the people of God is not found in pulling for the same teams. Maybe on a more significant level, we live during the second term of one of the most polarizing presidents in the history of our nation.

 

There are some who love him, some who loathe him, some trying to find a middle ground. It seems like the rhetoric and political and social discourse is particularly polarizing right now. It feels like we’re being pressured to put ourselves into one camp or the other, and if you don’t choose one for yourself, then one will be assigned to you.

 

And then once you’re in your camp, there is to be no contact with outsiders except to dehumanize and demonize them. But the reality is that Christians can, in good conscience, come to opposite conclusions about the best course of action for our country, while still remaining faithful children of God. And as strange as it may sound in this day and age, when it comes right down to it, our unity as the populist Zion is not found in the American political system.

 

Our unity is, and always has been, found in Christ himself. So during this time of Advent, we remember the ways that our Lord comes to us. He came in the past as a baby born in Bethlehem.

 

He comes today through his word and sacraments, and he will come again in the future, with clouds and great power and glory. Our unity is found in these things, not in our skin color or our politics or our social views. Now, our unity as the populist Zion, as the people of God, begins with the sin that we all share.

 

There is none who is righteous, Paul says, not even one. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. But God showed his love for all of us, and that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

 

And so we are united as people who deserve condemnation and yet who have not received it. We are united by the forgiveness of sins that Jesus won for us in his life, death, and resurrection in our place. So as we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus, we do so remembering what we heard last week.

 

Christmas is in the shadow of the cross. The reason our Lord was born was to live, die, and rise in our place. The reason he became like us was so that we could become like him, that one day we will be risen from the dead and living unto eternity.

 

We have unity in that. We also have unity in the way our Lord comes to us today. He comes to us through the preaching of his word, a life-giving word that creates faith in our hearts.

 

And that faith clings to Jesus so that all who are united to him are united to each other. There is only one Jesus. So everyone who is united to Jesus is therefore also united to everyone else who is united to Jesus.

 

We are united together because we are all baptized into the one Christ. For there is one body, one spirit, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all. We are united in him.

 

We are united together at this rail as we feast upon the same body and drink from the same cup of the one Jesus. When the person next to you takes the flesh of Jesus into their own body, Jesus lives in them, and they live in Jesus. But there is only one Jesus.

 

And so everyone who lives united to Jesus through his body and blood also lives united to the other people who have feasted on the same body and blood of the same Jesus. As the many grains become one loaf, as the many grapes become one cup, so also through the bread and wine of this blessed sacrament we are united to each other as the people of God in this place. We are united with the people of God around the world.

 

But the hard truth is that such unity is difficult to maintain in real life. For the unity we possess in Christ does allow for separation in many other areas of our life. And not only in trivial things like what sports teams you root for, but also in our politics, in our musical preferences, in our clothing style, a host of areas.

 

To actually live as the united body of Christ, that’s a hard thing. Which is why Paul ends his epistle to the Romans with a prayer that we heard just a few moments ago. It’s a prayer for unity.

 

May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another and accord with Christ Jesus that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Living united as the body of Christ requires more strength, more patience than any one of us has on our own. So it all depends on our Lord granting us the gifts of endurance and encouragement.

 

The Greek word that Paul uses for endurance here is the same one we looked at just a few weeks ago. It can be translated as fortitude, perseverance, steadfastness. It means the ability to keep going when things are tough.

 

And so we beg our Lord for endurance because Satan would love nothing more than to see wedges driven into the body of Christ. Both in this and in every place. It becomes especially obvious in our synod every few years when the national convention rolls around as it is right now.

 

Christians, congregations across the LCMS begin debating the best way to do things like worship the true God or train pastors for his church. Satan would love to see these debates turn into bitter divisions. He would love to undo the unity we possess as the body of Christ.

 

And so we join our voice with Paul. We pray that our Lord would give us perseverance, fortitude to live in harmony with one another. Because in music, harmony is a beautiful thing.

 

A literal translation of the Greek would say that Paul is praying that we would be of the same mind. Some like to render Paul’s words as a prayer for unity. But I do think the image of harmony is more appropriate.

 

For while we do certainly possess unity as the body of Christ, it’s a unity in harmony. Think about music. When a single note is complemented with a second note or a third note or a fourth note, the resulting sound is much fuller, much richer than any single note can be by itself.

 

In a symphony, each instrument plays its own part. The notes of the clarinet are different than that of the flute or of the oboe. And the trumpets play different notes than the trombones or the saxophones.

 

The cello plays something different than the bass or the violin. Now if each one were simply to do whatever it felt like, if the woodwinds just ignored the brass or the strings altogether, the resulting sound would be harsh on your ears. So the different instruments must be of the same mind.

 

But when the sections work together, even though they’re playing different notes, the sound is rich and full and wonderful. They may be playing different notes, but they’re playing the same song. So also in our interactions with other Christians in this place, across our synod, throughout the whole Christian church on earth, the prayer is not for uniformity in all things, homogeny in all things.

 

Prayer is for unity in Christ and harmony with one another. Paul’s prayer for the Church of God in Rome, his prayer for the Church of God in this place, in every place, is that the God of endurance would give us endurance, that the God of encouragement would continue to encourage us through his word, so that we who are different parts of the one body might be of one mind, a beautiful harmony in this and every place. And so if we are each simply playing whatever notes we feel like, we will not be in harmony.

 

We do need a conductor. We need a shared musical score. We need Jesus and his word, because they alone are the only infallible source and norm for all Christian teaching and all Christian living.

 

But if we’re all playing the same notes on the exact same instruments, then we’re not in harmony with each other either. A harmony not only allows for different notes and instruments, it actually requires it. So we actually have a gift before us, a gift to embrace the different notes and instruments that our Lord has given us to play in his symphony, the different vocations and personalities and people that all work together to give us harmony in this place.

 

And so yes, you’re probably a different instrument than the person sitting next to you, probably even playing different notes. But when you’re both playing the same song, the music is beautiful. The song we play is the unity we possess in our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

We may be a symphony of different instruments playing different notes, but the melody is Christ. We live in our different vocations, but we are members of the same body, living under the same head. We are the populace Zion, the people of God.

 

And so whatever disagreements may arise in this life, we know that our Lord is the one who unites us, and he is the one coming again in glory to deliver us into paradise. And as we continue down this Advent road, we remember the end is not simply found in the manger, neither is the end found at the foot of the cross or the empty tomb. Our Lord will come again, and when he does, all other differences between us will fall away.

 

All other disagreements will cease to matter as we enter side by side into the new and perfect creation. That is the end that’s awaiting us all. And until that day, as you and I and all Christians continue to walk as the people of God, the people of Zion, we pray that the God of endurance and encouragement would grant us to live together in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together we may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

In his name, Amen.

 

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, amen. And let us pray. O Lord, send forth your word into our ears that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name, amen.

 

So how’s your Christmas shopping coming? I know it’s not even December yet. You probably still have Thanksgiving leftovers in your fridge, but I also bet there’s some of you out there who are already done shopping for the year. Then there’s others, like me, who usually don’t even start shopping for Christmas until a few days before Christmas Eve.

 

Christmas presents that annual challenge of finding the right gifts for all the people on your list. There’s gifts to be bought for grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles, moms and dads, husbands and wives, sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, the list goes on. Maybe you braved the crowds last Friday, maybe you stayed home, but either way you have to get the gifts eventually.

 

And if you are somehow already done with all your Christmas shopping, maybe keep that to yourself for a few weeks while the rest of us endure the chaos. But I mention gifts because I think they’re significant and an often unseen element of today’s gospel reading. Even though the Christmas festivities are well underway in the world outside, in our Lord’s Church we first take time to pause for Advent to prepare our hearts and our minds to properly celebrate the arrival of Jesus, which is exactly why the account of Palm Sunday was read this morning.

 

I remember for many years wondering why Palm Sunday was the assigned reading for the first Sunday of Advent. I thought we should be reading pre-Christmas stories like the angel visiting Zachariah or Mary or Joseph. Maybe you’ve wondered the same thing.

 

Maybe you were confused last week when we heard the history of the crucifixion. After all, Lent ended months ago. But there’s a very good reason why these readings are placed where they are, all the way here in November and sometimes December.

 

You see, it reminds us that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus are the heart and soul of everything that we do in our Lord’s Church. And so last week, we ended the church year by remembering why we have a church at all, the cross and resurrection of Jesus. And today, we begin a new church year by hearing of the triumphal entry, another part of the Easter story.

 

And since the season of Advent is a season in which we reflect on how Jesus comes to us, Palm Sunday is a natural fit. But the effect is to remind us that the cross and resurrection of Jesus are the heart and soul of the church. And therefore, they are the heart and soul of the church year.

 

They are, quite literally, its beginning, middle, and end. So back to the original question. What does this have to do with gifts? Well, think about Easter.

 

We are well aware that the events of the first Easter took place over Passover. The richness of that symbolism could fill volumes of books. The typology, the foreshadowing present in the Old Testament Passover, points clearly to what the Messiah would do when he came to earth.

 

Just as the Israelites were released from bondage to slavery in Egypt by the Passover lamb, so also we are released from slavery to sin, death, and the devil by the death of Jesus, our Passover lamb. Just as the blood of the Passover lamb painted on the doorposts offered a protective covering for the Israelites in Egypt, so also the blood of Jesus covers us so that we are delivered safely in our hour of death. Just as the events of the Passover were to be for the Israelites a mark on their forehead and on their hands, something that changes the way they think and the way they act, so also the death of Jesus, our Passover lamb, changes the way that we think, changes the way that we act.

 

Like the Israelites of old, we are delivered people. We are not our own. We were bought with a price, therefore we honor God with our bodies.

 

But there’s one more element to the Passover worth a moment’s reflection, especially today. Listen to God’s instructions to the first Israelites in Egypt about how they should celebrate Passover. The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt, this month shall be for you the beginning of months.

 

It shall be the first month of the year for you. Tell all the congregation of Israel that on the tenth day of this month, every man should take a lamb according to their father’s houses, a lamb for a household. You shall keep it until the fourteenth day of the month when the whole assembly of the congregation of Israel shall kill their lambs at twilight.

 

You see, much like we find the time to find that right gift for the special someone before Christmas actually gets here, the Israelites were to choose their Passover lamb before the celebration of Passover actually begins. They were to choose it on the tenth day of the month and then set it aside and then offer it as a sacrifice on the fourteenth day of the month. Now what they did with the lamb for those days in between is open for a little bit of speculation, but what’s not open for speculation is that any Israelite who was planning on celebrating Passover on Thursday at sundown would need to choose their lamb on the tenth day, which began at sundown on Sunday.

 

And so we know that Jerusalem was especially crowded during Passover, but have you ever wondered why? Why on Palm Sunday would the streets of Jerusalem be so filled with pilgrims and with travelers if Passover didn’t begin till Thursday? Why are they all there four days early? Well, they’re there because on the Sunday evening or the Monday morning before Passover, they would begin going to the temple to make their choice to choose their Passover lamb, which they would celebrate and sacrifice that year. That’s the setting into which Jesus rides on Palm Sunday. A crowd of people there to look for their own Passover lambs.

 

These are the people who witnessed the arrival of the true Passover lamb. It’s almost as if God the Father is putting forward Jesus as his chosen lamb on Palm Sunday. And so as we enter the season of Advent, what could be a more appropriate focus of our meditation than that? There’s much to love about Christmas.

 

I love the music. I actually like the cheesy movies and all their happy endings. I love the nativities and the Christmas cards.

 

I like the quiet moments and the glow of the tree. But in the midst of it all, we must not forget that Christmas is not the end of the story. And actually, Christmas is not even the beginning of the story.

 

Christmas isn’t even the main chapter in the story. Because as important a milestone as it is in salvation history, Christmas exists in the shadow of the cross. And so as we ponder the incarnation and the birth of Jesus, we do so with the knowledge that that baby in Mary’s arms is destined to be crucified as the Passover lamb who takes away the sin of the world.

 

Our joy is not simply that Jesus was born. Our joy is that Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed and raised from the dead. He will never die again because death has no more dominion over him.

 

Jesus, our Passover lamb, changes everything. He was truly the perfect gift for an imperfect world. And so we’re reminded once again today of who our God is.

 

He is the God who gives gifts. You see, so often we’re tempted to think of God as the one who finds his joy by stealing ours. The world tells us that, and our own sinful flesh believes, that our Father in heaven is like a harsh tyrant, that he restrains our sexuality, that he curbs our greed, that he accuses us in our selfishness.

 

From the world’s point of view, God just sucks all the fun out of life. He tells us that harboring anger in our hearts is as much a violation of his holiness as is acting on that anger. And Satan is always in our ear, sometimes whispering, sometimes shouting that Christianity is a religion of rules, a system of oppression.

 

And we’re all too easy to agree, tempted to agree, tempted to give in to the world’s invitation to reimagine God. We don’t want to have a God who makes demands on our time and our behavior, so we invent a God for ourselves, usually one who sits on his back porch, puffing on his pipe, rocking in his old wooden chair, shaking his head as he looks out over the world at our antics, at our bad decisions, all the while maintaining that little glimmer in his eyes that says, boys will be boys. We like to imagine a God who shrugs his shoulders at our sin and says something like, well, people will be people.

 

Nobody’s perfect after all. But that God is a fiction. He’s a God of our own imagination.

 

That’s not the true God. But the true God is holy. His expectation is holy.

 

His demands are holy. And we fail to meet them. And no amount of imagination can save us from that reality.

 

But our Lord can. And more importantly, our Lord does. He saves us through the gifts that he gives, because that’s who he is, the God who gives gifts.

 

God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. So God sent his son into Jerusalem as the chosen Passover lamb, the sacrifice for the sin of the world, the sacrifice for your sin for mine. God sends his son to us today, the bread and wine of this altar, for the forgiving of our sins, the strengthening of our faith.

 

And God will send his son on the last day to rescue us from this valley of tears, to take us to be at home with him in the new creation. Because that’s who our God is. The God who gives gifts past, present, and future.

 

And we are the people who receive his gifts. So this Advent, as we prepare to once again honor the incarnation and the birth of our Savior, we do so remembering that he is a gift. We receive him with repentant joy.

 

We rejoice in the forgiveness that he brings. And we rest in his protection until the day of his return. May God grant it to us for Jesus’ sake.

 

Amen.

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. And let us pray.

 

O Lord, send forth your word into our ears, that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name. Amen. So what comes to mind if I ask you to picture a kingdom? Are the images mostly medieval? A king and a queen? Castle and a court? Knights and ladies and lances and armor? Horses and squires? Maybe you picture cartoon princesses talking animal sidekicks.

 

When you hear the word kingdom, what do you see? If you were asked to describe or define a kingdom, what would you say? Would you describe a man beaten and bloodied and hanging from a cross? Would you describe the people sitting in this room? Regular people? Normal people gathered around words and around bread and wine? I suspect that the instinct for most of us when we hear the word kingdom is to picture something political. There is, of course, truth in that. There is no shortage of kingdoms in this world.

 

No shortage of kings and queens seeking power, wielding political influence. There are rulers who make and enforce laws. There are soldiers, wars, trade deals, unrest, allies and enemies.

 

These are all very real parts of the kingdoms of this world. And it’s not wrong to be aware of them. Actually, we must be aware of them.

 

Because after all, we live as citizens of one kingdom in this world and in the midst of the many kingdoms of this world. But the danger creeps in when we start to believe that the kingdom of God operates the same way. That the kingdom of God can be best understood by first trying to understand the kingdoms of the world.

 

Kingdom of God is different. So today, the last Sunday of the church year, we hear readings which all touch in some way on the theme of fulfillment and the kingdom of God. The prophet Malachi writes of a time when the Lord will claim those who have been faithful to him, and he will spare them because they are his treasured possession.

 

Paul writes to the Colossians of the preeminence of Christ, how all things were made through him. How he is the image of the unseen God, the head of his body, the church, the one in whom the fullness of God dwells, the one who makes peace by the blood of his cross. And then there’s the gospel text from Luke.

 

It tells us of that cross. But more than just the cross, it tells us of the one on it. How on the road to his execution, when he was too weak to carry his own cross, he still looked at the women on the side of the road and said, do not weep for me.

 

Weep for yourselves. Weep for your children. You see, Jesus needs no tears.

 

He goes willingly to Calvary. The cross is why he came. And then we hear his words as they crucify him.

 

How at some point during the driving of nails into his hands and feet, hoisting him up so he can’t breathe anymore. At some point in the midst of that agony, he stares imminent face in the death and he cries out, Father, forgive them. He doesn’t check on their repentance first.

 

He doesn’t ask if they’re going to change their ways. He simply cries out in forgiveness. And then Luke tells us of the mockery of the soldiers.

 

The one man who was crucified with him. If you are the king, if you are the Christ, save yourself. Come down off the cross.

 

But Jesus does no such thing. And finally, Luke tells us of the criminal who looked to Jesus and said, Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. And Jesus’ response? Yes.

 

Today you will be with me in paradise. And in this simple exchange, we get a glimpse of the kingdom of God as it truly is. For the kingdom of God is not found by crossing the right borders on a map.

 

The kingdom of God is found wherever the king is. When we have Jesus, we have the kingdom of God. For he is the Lord of all creation.

 

All things were created through him and for him. He is before all things and in him all things hold together. And when Jesus is Lord, we are his subjects.

 

We are the citizens of his kingdom. But more than that, we are his treasured possession. The ones he protects with his mighty hand.

 

The kingdom of God is not a kingdom of knights and ladies. Not a kingdom of trade deals and allies. For the kingdom of God is not of this world.

 

And thanks be to God for that. On this last Sunday of the church year, we are reminded that we are indeed citizens of this earth, but our true citizenship is in heaven. And while we live under the authority of this or that earthly ruler, our true king is the one who went to the cross for us.

 

The one who carried our sin for us. The one who redeemed us from this dying world. The one who sits on the throne of heaven still bearing in his body the scars of our salvation.

 

The lamb of God who was slain for the sin of the world. And so the thief on the cross asks Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. He’s asking Jesus to remember him at some point in the future, when the kingdom of God is finally established.

 

When God’s enemies are finally crushed underfoot. When Jesus is finally standing tall, surrounded by armies of angels and archangels. The dying man doesn’t understand that this condemned man dying right next to him was already ruling over the kingdom of God.

 

It sure didn’t look like it. But Jesus’s answer to the man is not something along the lines of, don’t worry, once all this mess of crucifixion and weakness is over, then I will finally establish my kingdom with mighty acts of great brilliance. No, Jesus’s answer is a simple, yes, today you will be with me in paradise.

 

It’s the answer of one who already holds the authority to forgive sins. One who already holds the authority over all things. One who is already reigning over his kingdom from the cross.

 

And because the kingdom of God is not of this world, we don’t need to lose heart when it does not operate according to the pattern of this world. When we see a weak savior dying in our place, that’s a source of hope for us. The world wants majestic displays of great power.

 

The world wants the kind of things that send your enemies running for cover, so that they say to the mountains, fall on us, and say to the hills, cover us. But we don’t see that. We rejoice that our Lord has given us the simple means, simple means of bread and wine as his bodily presence among us.

 

For in the gift of this altar, our Lord unites himself to us. And now Christ lives in us. The king lives in us, bringing his kingdom into our lives.

 

It matters not who sits on the earthly throne, for the kingdom of God is near you. Next week, we begin the new church year with the season of Advent, a season where we meditate on the ways our Lord comes to us, how he came as a child long ago, how he continues to come to us in the preaching of his word, the gifts of the sacraments today. Now he will come as the one on the last day who will deliver us into the gift of paradise.

 

But even today, we rejoice that while we wait for his second coming, we are already living in the kingdom of God. When the world would assault you with fear and anxiety over the future, you have the gift of rest. You rest in the reality that you are a citizen of God’s eternal kingdom.

 

And so whatever does or doesn’t happen in the kingdom of this world, it’s all temporary anyway. But you have been brought into something eternal. So yes, we continue to live faithfully in our vocations in our earthly kingdom.

 

We continue to vote, continue to advocate for life and laws that are according with God’s design. We can’t help but live as citizens of this earthly kingdom. But we always do so with an eye on eternity.

 

We are not stuck under the burden of believing that the political successes or failures of this life are somehow eternal. The kingdoms of this earth will always rise and fall. It’s the word of our Lord that stands forever.

 

Jesus is the eternal king, and his kingdom is our eternal home. And the gift of his spirit that he gives to us freely, that’s what equips us to meet whatever challenges we might face in this life and in this earthly kingdom. He strengthens us with his own body and blood throughout the days of our pilgrimage.

 

So when you look at the world around you, let the kingdoms of this world rant and rave. Jesus is your true king. He’s the one who lives, and he has not forgotten you.

 

And when the time comes to deliver us out of this veil of tears, his words to you will be the same words he spoke to the thief dying next to him. Yes, truly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise. May God give it to us for Jesus’ sake.

 

Amen.

 

2025 November 16

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. Let us pray.

 

O Lord, send forth your word into our ears that it may bear fruit in our lives. In Jesus’ name, amen. So what comes to your mind when you hear the word endurance? Do you picture a runner preparing for a marathon? Maybe swimmers or cyclists training their bodies to increase stamina? Merriam-Webster defines endurance as the ability to withstand hardship or adversity, the ability to sustain a prolonged stressful effort or activity.

 

So simply put, endurance is just the ability to keep going when things are difficult. And Jesus mentions endurance in today’s Gospel reading. His disciples point out the splendor and the majesty of the temple, and Jesus responds by warning them that that temple, in fact all of Jerusalem itself, was going to be destroyed.

 

He warns them about false Christs, impostors who would try to lead people away from the truth. He warns them that nations and kingdoms would rise up against each other, that the Apostles would be brought before kings and governors, betrayed by family and close friends, and some of them even put to death. So in today’s Gospel reading, somewhere between Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday, on the verge of his own betrayal and arrest and execution, Jesus warns his followers that what comes next will be exceedingly difficult.

 

And then he tells them, but not one hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your lives. By your endurance you will gain your lives.

 

Sometimes it gets translated as an imperative. Stand firm, endure, and you will win your life. The Greek word there is the word hypomeno.

 

You’ll find it throughout the New Testament. It’s translated variously as endurance, sometimes patient endurance, steadfastness. However you translate it, the truth remains the same.

 

Steadfastness, endurance is a mark of the Christian life. It’s fundamental to what it means to be a child of God. For throughout our lives we have an eye on eternity.

 

We live believing that even when we are surrounded by chaos, not one hair of our heads will perish in eternity. What was true for the earliest disciples remains true for us. Throughout all our days in this hostile world, we wait confidently for the fulfillment of the kingdom, for our home in the new creation.

 

And so endurance, just simply getting through this life, becomes a characteristic of the children of God. It’s Paul who gives us the fullest description of what this endurance looks like. For example, in Romans 8 he tells us that he does not consider the sufferings of this present time even worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed.

 

Surrounded by life’s hardships, Paul says, we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons. And of course, he reminds us, we won’t see this adoption fully until we are in the new creation. So for now, we wait.

 

But just as we do not grieve as others do who have no hope, neither do we wait as others do. We don’t wait like the world waits. Christian waiting is not like a dejected person who has given up, simply waiting for the time to run out.

 

No Christian waiting is characterized by hope. And so in Paul’s words, we wait with patience, with steadfast endurance. And this endurance, this waiting in the life of God’s children, well it includes refusing to give up on doing and pursuing the good.

 

It’s oftentimes tempting for us to think that the good works that we do in our vocations, well they really don’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things. We might be tempted to think that with all the devastation in the world, all the political upheaval, persecutions throughout Africa, wars around the world, with all the big problems out there, we might be tempted to think that the simple good that we do in our daily lives doesn’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. But there are several places in Paul’s epistles, including today’s epistle reading, where he encourages us, do not grow weary of doing good, but rather persevere with steadfast endurance.

 

Because familiarity breeds contempt. The vocations into which our Lord has called us here and now, in our lives, in our families, in our congregation, in our neighborhoods, well these are the places our Lord has given us to live in love. These are the places he has called us to endure.

 

These are the very places he has put us as his salt and as his light. We are God’s workmanship created for good works in these places, in these vocations. Satan would tempt us to always look for something supposedly bigger, supposedly better, a grander way to show God’s love.

 

Satan would tempt us to grow bored with the tasks of our daily lives. After all, he says, how could making dinner, or doing laundry, or putting up the Christmas tree, how could these things be good works in God’s eyes? And yet this is the life that our Lord gives us, a life lived in loving service to those who are closest to us in our vocations. Living in that life is a life pleasing to God.

 

And while Satan would tempt us to get bored with it, our Lord calls us to endurance, be steadfast in this godly living. So on the one hand, steadfast endurance in the lives of God’s children means refusing to give up on pursuing the good works that our Lord has put into our daily lives. And on the other hand, and maybe more obviously, it also means remaining steadfast in the face of trial, in the face of hardship.

 

Paul tells the Colossians that he prays for them by asking that God would fill them with spiritual wisdom, give them understanding so that they might walk in a manner pleasing to God, and be strengthened by God for a life of endurance, a life marked by patience and joy. The author of the Hebrews tells us that we have this need of this endurance. So then he goes on to list examples of faithful people from the Old Testament and encourages us with these words.

 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, with our eyes fixed on Jesus. And Jesus himself, in today’s Gospel reading, tells his followers that they will gain their lives only through endurance, steadfastness. And Paul again gives us a more thorough description of how this happens, because he writes that we rejoice in our sufferings, not because suffering itself is good, but because we know that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, character produces hope, and hope will not put us to shame because hope relies on the promises of God, God’s love that has been poured into us, into our hearts by the Spirit that he has given to us.

 

It’s not that the suffering itself is good, but we rejoice in it anyway because we know that God is our strength. And because God is our strength, we can stand firm in the face of hardship, we can grow in the hope of deliverance. This has always been the way for God’s people.

 

As Paul says at the end of the Book of Romans, whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures, we might have hope. And we do have hope. We belong to the God who loves us.

 

We belong to the God who himself endured suffering. He faced betrayal. He faced hardship, hunger, violence, ridicule, torture, suffering, death.

 

He willingly endured all these things in order to gain for himself an eternal kingdom, a kingdom of which you are a citizen. And he is the one who is now seated on the throne of heaven. He upholds all things, and he has promised you that no matter what comes your way, not one hair of your head will be lost, but that by your endurance, you will gain true life.

 

And what’s more, he does not leave us to find this strength for ourselves. No, he himself is our strength. He gives us his Spirit through the preaching of his Word, through the bread and wine of this altar.

 

Through these means of grace, each of us can make the words of the Apostle Paul our own words. I no longer live, Christ lives in me. He puts to death that which is sinful in me, and he grants me new life in him, a life of endurance, one that gets through the difficulties of our present reality by looking with hope at the life to come.

 

So Jesus’ message to us today ends up being fairly straightforward. Don’t be overly impressed by the grandeur of the temples in the cities of this age. They’re going to fall, but neither be overcome by panic when they do fall.

 

Rather, keep your eyes focused on Christ. He will not allow one hair of your head to be harmed. And through the power of the Spirit at work within you, you will endure to the end because your Savior will carry you and your God will protect you.

 

So do not lose hope. Your salvation rests entirely on the work of Jesus, which he has already accomplished in your place. Your identity is firmly rooted in who he has declared you to be.

 

And since none of it rests on your ability to make it happen, you don’t have to wonder whether it’s done right. Jesus did it for you, so you know it will not fail. Trust what he says, even when life is hard, and find your rest in him.

 

Stand fast in his promises, for by such endurance, you will gain your lives. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

 

2025 Nov 02 DS

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. Let us pray.

 

O Lord, send forth your word into our ears, that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name. Amen. The reason why the world does not know us is that the world did not know him.

 

Jesus said, Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Now, to be blessed in this sense refers to a person who has received acceptance from God, approval from God. The poor in spirit refers to one who makes no claims on God for himself.

 

It’s just people who stand before God as nothing more than spiritual beggars, making no demands, expecting no rewards. Jesus said, God looks favorably on spiritual beggars, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The world says you are not a spiritual beggar.

 

The world teaches you to tap the power within. The world gives you twelve steps to unlock your hidden spiritual capabilities. The world wants to help you find spiritual fulfillment by teaching you to be present, be intentional, find your authentic self.

 

But you do not listen to the world. The world does not understand you. And the reason it does not know you is that it did not know him first.

 

Jesus said, Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. And it’s more than just mourning the death of loved ones. Jesus said, Blessed are those whose knowledge of their own spiritual bankruptcy leads them to mourn their entire sinful condition.

 

God looks favorably on those who recognize their depraved state, who do not drum up a series of excuses or self-justifications, but who are simply saddened at their sin and what it does. Those who mourn in this way will be comforted with the comfort of the gospel, the joy of forgiveness, the promise of life eternal. The world says, Do not mourn your sin.

 

In fact, don’t even call it sin, says the world. After all, nothing is truly right or wrong. What matters most is whether it’s right for you.

 

The only thing we cannot tolerate, says the world, is intolerance. So do not convict anyone in their sin. Neither let anyone convict you in your sin.

 

You were born that way. You can’t help the way you feel. Nobody’s perfect.

 

Do not mourn, says the world, for the good you do far outweighs the bad. Don’t beat yourself up over sin. God wants you to be happy.

 

Any God who doesn’t want you to be happy isn’t a God worth having, says the world. But do not listen to the world. The world does not understand you, and the reason it does not know you is because it did not know him first.

 

Jesus said, Blessed are the meek, those who humble themselves before God in confession, for they shall inherit the new heavens, the new earth of eternal bliss. The world says, You have nothing to be humble for. Jesus said, Blessed are those who desire the righteousness of God, given through his Son, for God will satisfy that desire.

 

The world says, Your desire ought never be satisfied. You should always be pushing for a better job, a bigger house, a nicer car. Jesus said, Blessed are those who show mercy to others, for they will experience the joy of mercy.

 

The world says, Mercy is for the weak. Only the strong survive. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

 

But do not be surprised that the world does not understand you, for it did not understand him first. It does not understand how the pure in heart, how those who are committed to God without any ulterior motive, or how the peacemakers, who find peace through forgiveness, are bearing each other’s burdens, forgiving those who have wronged them. The world does not understand how these can be held in such high regard by Jesus.

 

The world does not understand relationships free from ulterior motives. The relationships of the world are always quid pro quo. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.

 

Do not be surprised when the world does not understand. It doesn’t understand Jesus. How could it understand his followers? I mean, the world is certainly proud of what knowledge it thinks it has.

 

It puffs out its chest when it tells you that it has discovered the different chemicals in your brain that trigger the emotions that we call sadness, or happiness, or love, or loneliness. It tells you how the laws of physics make it possible to build bridges or fly airplanes. It tells you how different societies throughout recorded history have functioned, how they worshipped, what they considered moral.

 

It will tell you how the human brain develops, how the human body functions. Yes, the world is proud of its knowledge. The problem is, it has no clue about the gift of our Lord’s forgiveness, or the joy of new creation, or the life that we now live by faith in the Son of God who loved us and gave himself up for us.

 

The world understands none of this. And what’s worse, it considers us to be confused, deceived, even brainwashed for believing in such nonsense. The world has no idea what we are as the baptized children of God, because it has no idea about who God really is.

 

To the world, Christianity is, at best, just another set of moral or ethical guidelines. Guidelines that are essentially no different than those offered by any other religion. Guidelines that conscientious atheists can discover for themselves.

 

Things like don’t murder, don’t steal, don’t lie, be nice. At worst, the world sees Christianity as a system of oppression. The opiate of the masses, means by which the rich just grow richer.

 

But Christianity is not a system of oppression. And moral and ethical guidelines are not the heart and soul of our Lord’s church, because moral and ethical guidelines are not the heart and soul of our Lord. In a day like today, All Saints Day, it makes it abundantly clear.

 

For today, we celebrate that we are God’s children, and what we will be has not yet appeared. But we know that when He appears, we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is. See, for all the world’s so-called knowledge, it does not, and it cannot, understand death and resurrection.

 

The world thinks it understands death. After all, death is all around us. Each fall, creation dies to winter, only to be reborn in spring.

 

The food chain would not work without the death of the prey upon which the predators feed. From the world’s perspective, death, while it may be sometimes sad, is nonetheless natural. Just part of the great circle of life.

 

The world can tell you medical and scientific details about the death of a body or a plant, but as long as it considers death natural, the world will never understand it. Because death is not natural. Our Lord did not create a world to be filled with death.

 

He did not create a world where families would need to gather throughout the church to read the names of those who have died in the faith throughout the past year. Our Lord did not create a world where this sadness and this mourning are just natural. And so we wait in faith for the world to come.

 

We wait in hope for the coming life in paradise, a new creation free from the shackles of death. But the world will not understand this. It cannot understand this because it doesn’t understand Jesus.

 

When the world sees Jesus, it sees perhaps a teacher, someone who pontificated moral living. But we know different. We know the purpose of the Incarnation was not just to teach us how to live.

 

God could have done that from heaven. In fact, he already had through the words of the law and the prophets. Now the purpose of the Incarnation, the real purpose of Jesus, is death and resurrection.

 

Jesus took on human flesh so that that flesh could be beaten and bruised, nailed to the cross in our place, only to be raised to life three days later. This is who Jesus is. The lamb who was slain but who now stands very much alive on the throne of heaven, still bearing in his body the marks of our salvation.

 

And we know that when this Jesus appears again, we will be made like him, living, risen from the dead unto life eternal. We rejoice that when this gift has been delivered to those who have gone before us, to those whose names are read all across churches throughout the world today, we rejoice that they have been ushered into the life for which we continue to wait. The world cannot understand, for the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, and the truths of God are discerned through the work of the Holy Spirit.

 

The world does not understand our Lord’s plan of salvation, and so it laughs at the idea of a life to come. It tells us to live for this life only, to reject any notion of spiritual bankruptcy or mourning or humility, and instead to embrace this creation. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die.

 

But we know the truth. We know that this world and this life are not all that there is. We have not yet reached our final destination.

 

God has not yet revealed what we will be. And until he does, our true identity remains hidden behind a veil of tears. Life in this world is difficult.

 

Our Lord himself called it the Great Tribulation. He has not yet revealed the perfect, the incorruptible, the unstained, the unfading, glorious robes that wait for us in heaven. But make no mistake, they do wait for us.

 

Your robe is waiting for you. For when you take your place among the great multitude that no one can number, from every people, from every language, from every tribe, from every nation, those who have gone before us, those who are standing before the throne of the land with palm branches in their hands, singing his praises, those who have come out of the Great Tribulation, who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Because of what Jesus has done for us, this is our future.

 

This is our destiny as his children. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as Jesus is pure. So don’t lose heart when the world doesn’t understand you.

 

Don’t lose heart when the world insults you as ignorant, or persecutes you as if you are foolishly and childishly naive. Do not lose heart when they utter all manner of things falsely about you simply because you belong to Jesus. The world does not know you.

 

Because the world does not know him. Rather, rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for you will be made like he is. And remember, that’s exactly how they persecuted the prophets who came before you.

 

And where are they now? They are before the throne of God. They serve him day and night in his temple. The Lamb of God who sits on the throne, he shelters them with his presence.

 

And they do not hunger anymore. They do not thirst anymore. The sun does not scorch them, because the Lamb of God is their shepherd.

 

He guides them along the streams of living water. He wipes away every tear from their eyes. And he will do the same for you.

 

In Jesus’ name, amen.

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. And let us pray.

 

O Lord, send forth your word into our ears, that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name. Amen. In December of 1525, Martin Luther published his famous book, The Bondage of the Will.

 

It’s usually considered one of his most important publications, and it’s quintessential Luther. His style is blunt and often abrasive, because for Luther, there’s no room for fancy rhetoric or word games when the gospel is at stake. One must be direct.

 

One must be clear. But, 500 years later, the bound will that he’s arguing for makes a lot of 21st century Christians uncomfortable. Even in Lutheran churches that bear his name, many are not sure they agree with Luther’s assertion.

 

Because the idea of a bound will flies in the face of what most of us value above all else, autonomy. We live in a world that unquestioningly believes that we have freedom of self-determination, that you can be whatever you want to be, as long as you work hard enough. Now, on the one hand, it is true that we have freedom in our lives, freedom to desire and to pursue certain goals, certain aspirations.

 

I can commit myself to losing a few pounds, and that includes choosing whether or not to pack a salad for lunch or hit the drive-thru. I can choose what clothes I put on in the morning. I can choose what radio station I listen to, things like that.

 

Luther didn’t argue against that in The Bondage of the Will, although he does make a passing point that even in those areas of our lives where we can exercise our will, we still aren’t as free as we like to think we are. There’s far too many variables outside of our control. Even healthy people still get sick and die young.

 

But for Luther, the amount of ability that we have in making choices in our earthly lives is kind of an irrelevant question. The passenger on the Titanic has a choice about whether they put on their blue or black socks while the water pours in. But does it really matter if they’re still stuck on the ship and can’t get themselves off as the ship goes down? So also for us.

 

What does it matter that I can choose what I eat for breakfast? The real question is, can I choose God? And for Luther, the answer to that question is a resounding no. No, sinful humans have the power to choose whether or not to wear boots or flip-flops, but we do not have the power to choose God. The language that we just heard Jesus use a few moments ago reiterates this point.

 

Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. We hear this verse every year at the Reformation. The language of slave in those words is clear.

 

It is obviously language of bondage. It’s the language that Luther used. Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.

 

But what about that language of committing? If the one who commits sin is a slave to it, then what does it mean to commit sin? Some translations put it like this. Everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. Others just simply say, everyone who sins is a slave to sin.

 

The verb they’re all trying to translate is the Greek word poieo. Its literal definition is to produce something, like a tree produces its fruit. Whoever produces sin is a slave to that sin.

 

Think of the Apostle Paul’s struggle described in Romans. The good that I want to do, I don’t do that. The evil that I don’t want to do, well, that’s what I find myself doing.

 

I’m trapped. My existence is internal warfare. I’m enslaved.

 

Who will save me from this body of death? When I look at my life, I find myself producing sin. And as hard as I try, I can’t seem to set myself free from it. So Jesus’ words prove true.

 

I am a slave to sin. But for Luther, the very hope of salvation is found in the simple reality that Jesus’ words hold true. And not only his words that the one producing sin is a slave to it, but more importantly, the words that if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.

 

You see, for Luther, this was the key. If our salvation depended in any way on us completing something, anything at all, the comfort of the gospel is lost. How could I ever be certain that I’ve done enough? I’d be tempted to pride, to despair.

 

I’d be left to wallow in uncertainty. But thanks be to God that our salvation rests entirely on the work of Christ. It’s His death in our place.

 

His declaration of forgiveness. His making us alive in Him. As the famous preacher Jonathan Edwards once put it, we contribute nothing to our salvation except the sin that made it necessary.

 

But don’t hear this as disappointing or deflating news. It’s the opposite of that. Because we contribute nothing to our salvation, we can be confident in it.

 

Because the Son has set us free, we know we are free indeed. Now, there’s certainly more that can be said about the far-reaching implications of this reality, so I invite you to stick around for Bible class. We’re going to be discussing a lot of those things today.

 

But for now, for here, I think the important question before us is, where in my life am I still trying to contribute to my own salvation? Where am I blurring the line between living a life pleasing to God or seeing myself as living a life that somehow obligates God to grant me salvation? Do I live as if God can be bought by my political affiliations? Do I live as if God can be won over by my acts of charity, kindness? Do I live as if God has moved to forgive me because I’ve got all my doctrinal ducks in a row? Is my posture to stand before God and say, thank you, Lord, that I’m not like those other sinners? Because none of that, none of that is going to save me. None of that will bring forgiveness or comfort or hope. That’s just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

 

Now, true freedom comes when the Son sets you free. And the gift of the Reformation is the return to the certainty of that promise. For the Son has set you free.

 

He was born for you. He lived for you. He died for you.

 

He rose for you. He ascended for you. And He is now seated at the right hand of the Father for you.

 

And He did all this without any merit or worthiness in us. We could not by our own reason or strength or our will believe in Jesus Christ as Lord or come to Him. So He came to us.

 

The Holy Spirit has called us through the proclamation of the Gospel. He has made us alive with the gifts of His Word and Sacrament. He sanctifies us for lives pleasing to God.

 

He keeps us in the true faith. It all depends on our Lord. And for Luther, and for Jesus, and for us, all means all.

 

If it all depends on Him, there’s nothing left for me. None of it depends on me. Apart from Jesus, we are dead in our trespasses and sins.

 

Our wills are in bondage to the devil. But we are not apart from Jesus. He has kicked down the door of our hearts.

 

He has bound the devil. The Son has set us free. And even though the sinful flesh will continue to rear its ugly head, and even though Satan will continue to scratch and to claw, because the Son has set us free, we are free indeed.

 

Free to live under Him and His Kingdom. Free to serve our neighbor in love, not worried about how many points it’s earning me in the eyes of the Father. Free to meet the challenges, the obstacles of this life, with the sure and certain hope that there is still a rest waiting for the people of God.

 

There is still the hope, and the promise, and the certainty of resurrection. So we live in that hope. We cling to that hope.

 

We no longer belong to sin. We no longer belong to death. We no longer belong to the devil, because the Son has set us free.

 

And so now, we belong to Jesus, and He will never let us go. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. And let us pray.

 

O Lord, send forth your word into our ears, that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name. Amen. Now, I find the historical narrative of God wrestling with Jacob to be one of the more fascinating stories in the entire Bible.

 

Luther compared it to the event of a father teasing his son. Luther writes, God plays with Jacob, doesn’t sound like playing in the text. Luther says, God plays with Jacob to discipline him, to strengthen his faith just like a godly parent takes from his son an apple with which the boy was delighted.

 

Not that the boy should flee from the father or turn away from him, but rather that he should be incited to embrace his father all the more, and to beg him, saying, Father, give me back what you have taken away. Then the father is delighted with the test, and the son, when he recovers the apple, loves his father all the more ardently on seeing such love and such child’s play gives pleasure to his father. So according to Luther, then, the example of Jacob demonstrates to us that God is at times accustomed to play with his saints.

 

And as far as God himself is concerned, it’s quite childish playing. But to us whom he tempts in this way, it appears far different. Really, Luther? Far different? To us whom are afflicted and tempted and tried in this way, it appears far different? Of course it does.

 

No toddler likes it when you hold the sippy cup or the stuffed animal just out of their reach, taunting them just a little bit. It makes them feel frustrated. It makes them feel helpless.

 

They scream at you. They cry to get it back because there’s nothing else they can do. They are helpless.

 

And whether you’re two or 52, helplessness is one of the worst feelings. Just like a child doesn’t like to feel helpless by hands of an older, a taller, a stronger brother or sister, we Christians don’t like to feel helpless. Not in our lives, not before our God.

 

And so we want something. We want anything to give us a bit of control. We try to take credit for the strength of our own faith.

 

We try to take credit for the genuineness of our repentance, for the intensity of our praise. We’ll try anything not to feel helpless. But we are helpless.

 

So Luther draws a jarring parallel, comparing God assaulting Jacob in the middle of the night to God assaulting us, his children, with the various trials and afflictions in our lives. Language like this feels out of place among many Christians today. It’s a thought that makes us uncomfortable.

 

We so naturally jump to the assumption that anytime something is difficult in my life, it must automatically be coming from the work of the devil. We scarcely even give it a moment’s thought. Our instinct is to blame God whenever we’re uncomfortable, as if he’s being negligent, as if the only way a God should ever act is by making us healthy and wealthy and generally comfortable, prospering us in whatever life choices we’ve already made for ourselves.

 

And then when things don’t go the way that we think they should, well then, like a toddler, we threaten to turn our back on him, tempted to issue the ultimatum that if God doesn’t start to answer my prayers when and how I want him to, well God, then I’m going to be done with you. Tempted to try to incite a response from God through threats, through manipulation. Luther says God’s wrestling with Jacob gives us a different way to look at it.

 

Rather than growing weary or angry with God in the face of hardship, or when you think he’s taking too long to answer, conquer him. Rather than giving up on him when times are tough, beat him at his own game, for nothing gives God more delight than to be conquered by his children. Yes, there are times in our lives where we feel helpless before God, but that’s not failure on God’s part, as if he’s just arbitrarily toying with us like some capricious bully.

 

We feel helpless before God because we are helpless before God. We are dead in our trespasses and sins, and sometimes because we’re so blind to that reality by ourselves, he needs to make it abundantly clear to us. He doesn’t want us to throw in the towel, he wants us to fight back, he wants us to wrestle with him, for we are his Israel.

 

After the night of wrestling, God changed Jacob’s name to Israel, which literally means wrestles with God. And not only Jacob that one night, but generations of his descendants would be called Israel, those who wrestle with God. We are Israel today, those who continue to wrestle with God.

 

But we don’t wrestle by means of physical strength, we wrestle by means of a relentless faith, a trust that never gives up. That’s the widow in today’s gospel reading. Jesus emphasizes in the parable that God actually wants to be conquered by the faith of his people.

 

That’s why he named them Israel, the people who wrestle with God. Jesus told this parable, and we’re told explicitly, he told this parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart. And then he tells a parable about a woman who pestered the judge into fulfilling his vocation and giving her justice.

 

She wrestled with him until he relented, and he was an unrighteous judge. How much more will God, your heavenly father, who unlike the unrighteous judge actually delights in you coming to him, how much more will he respond to you when you cry out? We are called to be Israel today, called to struggle with and to wrestle with God, called to cling to him and to not let him go until he blesses us like Jacob did that night so long ago. But we don’t wrestle with God as if we could ever bend him to our will, as if we could ever conquer him in such a way that he becomes subject to our whims.

 

Rather, whatever opposes us, Luther says, is conquered when we simply turn it over to him in prayer. He might not respond as quickly as we would like, but like the judge in today’s parable, he will ultimately respond. He will ultimately meet our needs.

 

And so Luther described this time of waiting to God’s response as a time of wrestling, clinging to our Lord in faith until he answers our prayer. He even described it as a time of exercise. He wrote about the comfort that we have that God does exercise us in such a way, that he exhorts us to fight back.

 

He shows that such fighting is a most pleasing sacrifice to him. He wants us to conquer him, because ultimately, we’re not the ones doing the conquering. This is not up to our strength.

 

This is the work of God in us. The God who took on human flesh to sacrifice that flesh, to allow the forces of evil to conquer that flesh in order that he might defeat death and win for himself our place in his eternal kingdom. The God who rejoices in victory through what always looks like defeat.

 

That is the God who is at work in us. He is the one who is the strength of our faith. He is the one who enlivens our hearts and our hands to cling to his promises, to trust his goodness and his mercy, even when our eyes and our experience tell us something different.

 

Luther rejoices that God exercises the faith of his children. Just like eating an exercise of how an earthly child grows into a healthy adult, so also our Lord feeds us and then exercises the new creation in us, so that our souls can grow healthy and strong. So be fed and nourished by God’s word, through the promises he makes to you there.

 

Be fed and nourished here at God’s altar, where you get more than just the scraps that fall from the master’s table, you have a seat at the feast itself. Here you receive pardon and peace in the body and blood of Jesus. Here you get the food to sustain you throughout all your days of pilgrimage.

 

And then having been fed, don’t expect to get lazy and fat, prepare for exercise. And exercise isn’t always pleasant. The act of lifting weights strains your muscles to the point where they tear.

 

The microscopic holes all over your muscles that are there after a workout regenerate, fill with new muscle. The gaps bring in new tissue. And after it’s all said and done, you have more muscle at the end than you had at the beginning.

 

That’s why nutrition is important to working out. Your body needs the nutrients and the hydration to rebuild the muscle. So also when God exercises you, be fed and nourished by God’s word and sacraments because they provide us with the nutrients necessary to strengthen our faith.

 

And when difficult circumstances and challenges come our way, embrace them as God’s exercise for your faith. And even more than that, as strange as it sounds and as hard as it might be, rejoice in the exercise. Like an athlete who relishes being challenged physically, who knows that pushing the body and its muscles to their limit will ultimately strengthen them, rejoice when God wrestles with you.

 

For there you learn to trust him. There you are shown your own inability and weakness. There you learn to rely on the strength of Christ alone.

 

Consider it pure joy when you face many trials because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. And rejoice in hardship, knowing that suffering produces endurance. Endurance produces character, character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

 

So when life is challenging, and it will be, and when you feel reasons to doubt God’s love for you, when you wonder if God is listening to your prayers, remember your name, O Israel. Wrestle with your God. Cry out to him.

 

And if Satan tries to convince you that God isn’t listening, remember the persistent widow. Remember that you have been encouraged, no, you’ve been commanded to pray, and God has promised that he will hear you and answer you. And if it seems like he’s taking too long, cling to him in faith like Jacob.

 

And don’t let go until he listens, for he has promised that he will hear you, he promises to answer. Capture him with his own words. He himself is the one who said, whoever comes to me I will never cast out.

 

So take him captive in his own promises. Cling to his word in the face of every obstacle, for he delights to be conquered by his children. You are Israel.

 

So wrestle with your God. Do not lose heart. Do not give up.

 

The promise is already yours. Hold him to it. The one who spoke this word is faithful.

 

He will keep his word. For our God does not wrestle with you because he wants to overcome you, but so that you might prevail against him and thus receive your reward. In Jesus’ name, amen

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God, our Father, through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. Let us pray.

 

O Lord, send forth your word into our ears, that it may bear fruit in our lives, in Jesus’ name. Amen. So what do you consider to be the official start of fall? Are you a literalist? Is it September 22nd, the autumnal equinox, the astronomical beginning of fall in the Northern Hemisphere? Or are you, like most people, more symbolic in your answer? Maybe it’s Labor Day, the start of the school year, the arrival of football season.

 

Maybe, here in Albuquerque, it’s the arrival of all the balloons, the fiesta that kicks off the start of fall for you. Maybe it’s when you turn off your swamp cooler, if you still have one. Regardless of when you think fall begins, one of the clear signs that it’s in full swing is the Halloween decorations popping up in front yards all across the city.

 

And in a few short weeks, boys and girls, and teenagers, and adults, will dress up in costumes for parties or for trick-or-treating. And a lot of those costumes will include masks. Goblin masks, president masks, werewolves, maybe even a celebrity or two.

 

Because Halloween is a time when people revel in hiding behind masks for fun. But fun is not the only reason people wear masks. Far more common are the metaphorical masks that we wear, the ones that each of us put on from time to time.

 

False appearance that we display before strangers, maybe before people we’re trying to impress. That mask of professionalism that we wear when we know the boss or the supervisor is watching. The mask of innocence that the devious students like to wear when they know the teacher or the administrators are in the room.

 

The mask we wear when we’re trying to make a good first impression, maybe trying to look smart. Trying to look adequately impressed, or unimpressed as the case may be. Or just trying to look like we have it all together.

 

We all occasionally wear these masks, but the thing about them is, none of them ever passes the test of time. In any lasting relationship, like a marriage, eventually the mask is going to fall off. Your true colors will be revealed.

 

All it takes is time. Which is why it’s so strange that we try to wear these masks before God. As if he doesn’t really know who we are underneath.

 

I mean, he is from everlasting to everlasting. He is the almighty. He’s the one who knit us together in our mother’s wombs.

 

He searches us, he knows our inmost desires, and yet we put on masks before him. Do we really think we can hide our sin from God? As if he can’t see right through the silly facade? That’s like the toddler, who thinks that you can’t see them because they put their hands over their own eyes. And yet, for some reason, we quickly and easily give in to that temptation.

 

To put on the masks of self-justification. Yes, Lord, we say, I know that you said hatred in my heart is a form of murder, but my boss just gets under my skin like no one else can. What I feel for him isn’t hatred, Lord, it’s righteous anger.

 

Well, yes, Lord, I know that you call me to defend my neighbor, to speak well of them, and to explain everything in the kindest way, but that one co-worker is the worst. She flies all the wrong flags, her car is full of all the wrong bumper stickers, she’s so smug and she’s so condescending, she doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt. It’s not pride, Lord, I just really am better at my job than my incompetent co-workers, and I get frustrated putting up with their mistakes all day.

 

They deserve the way that I talk to them. It’s not gossip, Lord, everything I said was true. You know your life better than I do, so you can fill in your own blanks.

 

Where does Satan tempt you to self-justification? Where does he tempt you to put on a mask when you address our Lord? But here’s the truth. Self-justification is a bottomless pit. It is a vicious and never-ending cycle.

 

And the reason that Satan loves to tempt us to self-justification is that he knows our attempts to explain away any particular sin doesn’t remove that sin. Attempts to justify sin leave sin unforgiven, festering in our conscience, weighing us down with guilt and shame, spreading like a disease that corrupts our soul. And ignoring a disease will not cure it, neither will ignoring sin.

 

Now this disease must be cured, the mask must be removed. It must come to our Lord saying, not, oh, it’s just that, or, yeah, but. Like the lepers in today’s gospel reading, our cry to the Lord can only be, Lord, have mercy on us.

 

These lepers don’t cry out to Jesus in self-justification because they know all too well the seriousness of their disease. They felt the pain in their own flesh as the leprosy ate away their skin. They felt the emotional pain of isolation, separation from their family and friends.

 

Leprosy is contagious, and in order to keep it from spreading, those who were infected were quarantined in the colonies outside of cities and villages. They were not allowed to see their family for fear the disease might spread. So there were no holiday dinners with loved ones, no Sunday afternoon visitors.

 

For all intents and purposes, they were dead to their family, dead to the life they knew before. And in their death, in their helplessness, they cry out to Jesus, and they do not do so in anger. These lepers didn’t challenge Jesus, ask him why they were sick.

 

Neither did they offer a string of reasons why Jesus ought to heal them. There’s no sad story about a wife and three kids left at home trying to make ends meet. None of them tell Jesus about the family farm that’s in danger of foreclosure.

 

Their cry is simple. It’s vulnerable, it’s honest. There is no mask.

 

It’s just a cry for help. Lord, have mercy. But such is the cry of faith.

 

Because faith looks not to itself, it looks only to the gifts of the Savior. Such is our cry of faith as we kneel in confession before our Lord, admitting that we are, by nature, sinful and unclean. There is nowhere to hide.

 

We have sinned against him in thought, word, and deed. We have sinned against him by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. There are no excuses.

 

We have not loved him with our whole hearts. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. There is no mask.

 

Just confession. Telling the truth. Repeating back to our Lord the reality that he has revealed to us in his word.

 

Simple repentance. Faithful pleading that for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings and death of his beloved son, Jesus Christ, that our Lord would be merciful to us poor sinful beings. Lord, have mercy on us.

 

And merciful he is. As Jesus spoke healing to the lepers, so he speaks healing to you. He does not offer you a list of rationalizations for why you shouldn’t feel bad, why your actions weren’t actually sinful.

 

He doesn’t shrug his shoulders and tell us, well, that’s just the way you are. You were born that way. You’re just working through the trauma of your childhood.

 

He doesn’t pat us on the back and tell us it’s all okay. Our sin is never okay. But it is paid for.

 

We are redeemed. We are forgiven. Jesus has paid the price for our salvation.

 

And now he delivers that gift to us every time we gather in this place. In the stead and by the command of Jesus himself, here our sins are forgiven. As sure and certain as if Jesus himself was standing among us, speaking those words with his own mouth.

 

And faith believes this. His healing is delivered as he feeds us with the medicine of immortality, the body and blood of our Savior, in, with, and under simple means of bread and wine. But in this meal, he forgives our sins.

 

And he sends us home with a heart cleansed from the leprosy of sin. Luke tells us that when the lepers went their way, they weren’t quite healed yet. They didn’t see any difference in their flesh.

 

And that when they noticed healing, one of them returned. The point is that the faith of the lepers believed that even though their disease was not immediately healed, that Jesus would be true to his word. They believed that Jesus would heal him, as they said.

 

So even though they still had leprosy, when they left his presence, they were healed on the way. They were cleansed. So also for us.

 

The gift of faith that we have been given in the water of baptism, believes our Lord’s words. They believe his promise of forgiveness. They believe his promise about his sacrament.

 

And even though we may not always feel different when we leave this room, faith believes. Faith clings to the promise of Jesus. And faith knows we have been cleansed.

 

Remember that Satan hates forgiveness. So he tempts us to wear masks before God. He wants us to hide our sin.

 

Rationalize it. Justify it. Make up excuses for it.

 

But his goal is that it goes unrepented. Because his goal is that it goes unforgiven. But trust your Lord.

 

He knows who we are under the mask. There is no use hiding from him. He sees our sin.

 

But he comes to us in forgiveness. Leave the masks for Halloween. We don’t need them.

 

We are the baptized. We need not wear a mask before our Lord. He has seen our sin already.

 

And paid for it in full. Now the joy of redemption is ours. Our cry is the honest cry of the lepers.

 

Lord, have mercy on us. And like the lepers, our Savior has made us clean. So let us rise and go our way.

 

Trusting the word that Jesus has spoken to us. Living this new life that he has bestowed. And forever trusting in his mercy.

 

In Jesus’ name. Amen.