Christ the King Sunday, 20 November 2016

I.N.I.

a sermon for Christ the King Sunday, 20 November 2016, to be preached at Christ Church, Accokeek, Maryland, and based on verses from all three of the appointed lessons for the day, i.e., Jeremiah 23:5; Luke 23:36-38, 42-43; Colossians 1:12-14

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

Dear Friends in Christ,

Our elections are nearly two weeks past, but I daresay we are still very much in a political season. That is not, however, why the Church calls today Christ the King Sunday (as if to differentiate political offices from kingship). We Christians have been observing Christ the King Sunday for years as a special time to mark, remember, and celebrate Jesus's role as our chosen and anointed Leader, as Christ the King. And while, of course, Jesus Christ is King all year long, it is fitting to remember it today on the last Sunday in our church's liturgical calendar.

Now, when I was young the last three Sundays in the Church year zeroed in on the last things that will come at the end of time. The lessons and hymn and sermons focused on the coming judgment. End of Church year equaled end of time. It was all about Christ's Second Coming. That was to prepare us for Advent and Christmas, our Lord's first coming into the world. We don't have quite that emphasis today. Today we meditate on Christ's role as King in preparation for re-living His first revelation as our King when He was born in Bethlehem.

In coming weeks we will be walking though some of Isaiah's prophecies of the Lord's coming. Today's Old Testament lesson, though, is from Jeremiah, who came along a little after Isaiah. He spoke in troubled times. Israel had been a divided nation for generations, and the northern kingdom, Israel, had been snuffed out. Then as Jeremiah proclaimed the Word of the Lord, the enemies of God's people were gathering to do the same to the southern kingdom, Judah. Babylonian power was growing, and Jerusalem was about to be overrun and destroyed. In that dark and dreadful time the Word of the Lord came to Jeremiah. About the middle of his book we read: "The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and He shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land." (23:5)

Anyone who heard him share this word probably said something to the effect of "I sure hope you know what you're talking about." David had been promised a forever kingship and his descendants had pretty well wasted away his patrimony. The divided kingdom and loss of the northern kingdom was the least of it. Most of their kings throughout their history were on the 'bad kings' list; few were on the 'good kings' side of the ledger. Most of their leaders had not been righteous. Most had not dealt wisely with their people and the challenges that faced them. Most had not executed justice throughout the land. The remaining faithful descendants of Abraham and Sarah who were there to hear Jeremiah would have been eager to see a "righteous Branch" spring up from the root of Jesse. That is, they'd have been most happy to finally live under a good king descended from David.

At the beginning of this chapter 23, Jeremiah proclaims woe to the faithless shepherds who had scattered the flock of Israel through their rejection of God. God's Law proclaims their destruction. But then, of course, Jeremiah proclaims the Gospel, the good news, that the Lord will break into this pitiful history and raise up a righteous Branch to reign as King. Not like kings of the past and present, but One who will be faithful, one who will deal wisely, one who will execute justice and righteousness in the land. Rely on the promise, is what Jeremiah wants his hearers to do. The Lord has promised it, and when this Branch, this righteous, wise, and just King comes, then God's people will be saved and will live in safety (23:6).

The promised King did come along. But not immediately. As I reminded you a bit ago, we are about to enter the season of Advent in which we reenact our preparation for the coming of that King, born of the Virgin in Bethlehem. But as we know -- and as we're reminded in today's Gospel -- the King was not warmly welcomed with open arms, hearts, and minds. Half a millennium after Jeremiah announced this promise, Jesus the righteous Branch did rise up. And then for a whole raft of reasons He was cut down shortly thereafter. When this Branch was hung on the tree of the cross at the place of the Skull, Calvary, the Roman soldiers who had nailed Him to it joined the leaders of the people in mocking Him.

We don't know these men. We don't know their names or their histories and biographies. But we can maybe be safe in describing them as typical military men who followed orders first and then only later (if then) thought about the implications of what they had done. Here they have nailed our Lord and King to the cross, and maybe one of them asks their sergeant 'What is this one being crucified for?' The sergeant answers something like 'I don't know. All I've got is the usual sign to post over his head. I guess the lieutenant was being sarcastic; this one says "This is the King of the Jews." Probably means the guy is a rebel leader. Or wanted to be.' So the soldiers, loyal Romans whose job it is to defend Caesar from rebellion out there in the hinterlands, the soldiers take to mocking Jesus with their "Hey, if you really are the King of the Jews, save yourself why don't you?"

And Jesus ... Jesus the righteous Branch, the true King who deals wisely and executes justice and righteousness ... Jesus extends His love even to these soldiers, praying to the Father that He would forgive them. Jesus knows that these soldiers are just dumbly following orders, that they - in His words - didn't know what they are doing.

Then Luke takes the focus off the soldiers and moves it to the criminals. Don't you think it wonderful how Luke's telling of this whole scene in Jesus's life doesn't include His disciples or even the adoring crowds that so often followed Him? In Luke's Gospel, Jesus on the cross prays, of course, but it's Roman soldiers and convicted thieves whom we hear talking to Him. It's the outsiders, the foreigners, the ones rejected by society who interact with Jesus. And so the first thief -- who comes across to me as one who must have been pretty disagreeable in life -- joins right in with the soldiers in mocking Jesus: 'Hey, you! You're supposed to be king of the Jews, right? Well. I'm a Jew and I need you to do something kingly for me. Get us down off these crosses already!'

But the other thief, listen instead to him for a moment. After rebuking his partner in crime he says to the Lord, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." What a simple and profound prayer! Spoken in a time of deepest need. Direct. Full of faith and hope. And acknowledging Jesus's kingship. We don't know where this faith came from. Maybe he had been in the crowds that heard Jesus preach. He may have witnessed some of Jesus's miracles. (Either of these could have been great settings for him to snatch a purse off someone's belt.) Or he may just have noticed the way Jesus acted as the 3 of them had been brought out of Jerusalem to the execution site. He may have only then seen and heard and reflected on the things Jesus said and did. He may only then have let the Holy Spirit work faith in his heart. This thief may have had a conversion there on his own cross shortly before his death and realized that, yes, Jesus IS the King we Jews have been waiting for all these centuries.

And then Jesus speaks. In Luke's Gospel, again, this is the only time Jesus on the cross speaks other than in prayers. Jesus replies to the thief, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

So Jesus equates the Kingdom of the thief's last request with God's Paradise. But don't forget to focus a moment on the possessive pronoun "your" in what the thief says: "your Kingdom." The faithful witness of the dying thief is that Jesus is King. He is saying that Jesus is the One who reigns. And if he had learned his Scriptures -- as he well might have before committing his crime -- he just may have thought of the prophecy of Jeremiah. He may have had an insight right before his death of the way he could enter into the Kingdom of wise dealing, of justice, and of righteousness.

Justice would have called for punishment on account of his crimes. He had been caught in the Roman judicial system and knew in his body their brutal system of justice. Now this thief wanted God's justice. And he wanted to live in the Kingdom of righteousness, all his sins paid for. He believed, he knew, that Jesus was an innocent man, that -- as he told the first thief -- "we are condemned justly, but this Man has done nothing wrong." And from what he said to Jesus, he knew and believed that God forgave his own sins in Christ. This dying thief knew in other words, knew by faith, what Saint Paul would later write about Christ the King in today's epistle.

There in Colossians 1:12-14, Paul writes that he's "giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption the forgiveness of sins." This morning I have to wonder whether when they were traveling together Luke told Paul what he had learned about the crucifixion. Maybe at that point in their lives Luke had already started outlining his Gospel and had notes on eyewitness accounts from Mount Calvary. Maybe even, pious legend might express, the centurion who was in charge of the soldiers there (the one who saw Jesus die and exclaimed "Surely, this man was innocent.") had talked with Luke. In other words it seems to me possible that this scene from the crucifixion is the backdrop to what Paul then wrote to the Colossians. The thief on the cross was enabled by the Father to share in the inheritance of the saints of light ... just as all of us thieves in this church are enabled to share in that inheritance by our Father. God has rescued us, Paul writes, from the power of darkness. No matter what our background and personal history, God the Father has reached into our lives and rescued us through the preaching of His Word and the administration of His sacraments, rescued each of us from the power of darkness. And after our rescue we are not deposited in some dreadfully uncertain limbo of a refugee camp somewhere. No, Paul tells us, we have been 100% rescued and transferred into the Kingdom of God's beloved Son. That is where our real citizenship is registered: The Kingdom of God's beloved Son, Paradise, Heaven itself with Jesus Christ ruling as our one and only King, that is where we now really belong. Our King, Paul tells the Colossians and all us fellow believers with them, is the one in whom we have redemption and the forgiveness of sins.

Until we can fully realize that hope, we live here praying with the thief that King Jesus remembers us when He comes into His Kingdom. But until we walk into Paradise, we work with King Jesus here on earth to execute justice and righteousness in the land. The power of darkness from which we have already been rescued still surrounds us in this life to be sure. We don't need to look very hard to find evidence of it. But you and I have the power of God's Word to keep this darkness at bay. We have our baptisms assuring us that we now already belong in the Kingdom of light. We have the strength of God coming to us in Holy Communion. We shall overcome the evil of this world because you and I are children of God, fellow heirs with St Paul, the thief on the cross. and all believers across time. We are members of Christ the King. Amen.

May the peace of God that passes all human understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

S.D.G.

A Sermon on the Epiphany Lessons

I.N.I.

a sermon to be preached at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, Virginia on 10 January 2015, the Sunday after the Epiphany of our Lord, and based on the assigned lessons for the day: Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12; and St. Matthew 2:1-12

Dear Friends in Christ,

If I say "Festival of Light" you might think of the Jewish Hannukah. But did you know that we Christians are celebrating our own Festival of Light right now? Flip to the first page of your worship folder and there it is: "Service of Light: Jesus Christ is the Light of the world, the Light no darkness can overcome." Jesus is the Light ... and while we celebrated His birth a couple weeks ago on 25 December, that was really the birthday of a Jewish boy to Jewish parents, welcomed by Jewish shepherds, and dedicated in the Jewish Temple when Simeon and Anna found Him. What we celebrate today, is the day the Light dawned for the rest of us: the day the "wise men from the east came ... to worship Him." (Matt 2:1-2)

That was the day the light went on for the non-Jewish part of the world. Before that there was darkness. The whole world, basically, was in darkness. I don't know if you've ever really experienced total darkness before, but it's something you won't get here in the DC area. It seems like we always have some light somewhere: streetlights, traffic lights, lights on stores and in our homes, front porch lights, car headlights, and on and on. Total darkness would be without any of them. AND without sun and moon and stars. Something like you could find deep inside a cave, for example, as long as nobody had their phones and luminous dial watches and the rest. Darkness. Total darkness.

You may not remember ever having experienced that, but in a very real sense we have all had regular experience with deep darkness. It's a lot more treacherous than darkness of being lost in a cave would be, or than a sudden physical blindness. It's the darkness of sin.

The darkness of sin closed in on people when Adam and Eve first broke God's Law in the Garden of Eden. Yes, their eyes were opened to the extent that they suddenly saw that they were naked. But you'll recall, too, that they also lost sight of God in that moment, by going into hiding. They cut themselves off from His glory. They locked themselves out of His presence, They evicted themselves from the Garden.

Since that time people wandered blind. The Bible, of course, gives us a great record of the way people have stumbled around and away from God's light. But pick up any good history book, and you'll see that even writers without any religious interest at all can give a pretty convincing account of humanity lost in the darkness of sin.

Those secular historians are echoing and paraphrasing what Isaiah wrote in the second verse of today's Old Testament lesson: "darkness shall cover the earth and thick darkness the peoples." Please notice that the prophet does not say that this darkness only covers the primitive pagans in the jungles of Papua-New Guinea, or only the Muslims and Buddhists and Hindus. And Isaiah doesn't say that this darkness is only a shadow passing briefly across people's eyes. He writes of "thick darkness" that covers and coats the peoples, all peoples from one end of the earth to the other.

You and I are naturally in this darkness. We're immobilized by it. Just as we would be if we were suddenly without headlamps deep in a cave somewhere. We're all frozen in place by this darkness of sin. We can't see where we are or how to escape, so we're much more comfortable hunkering down and staying put. Pinned down by sin's darkness, we cannot even make a beginning at walking toward God. We don't know which direction to go. We're trapped.

This deep darkness is the self-inflicted punishment we've all inherited from Adam and Eve. Within it, though, there are some (there are always some) who feel more comfortable moving about. Under cover of natural darkness much crime is committed as criminals think it lends some cover to their misdeeds. In the same way under the perpetual spiritual night many crimes are committed for the Evil One. His servants fly to and fro distracting, tempting and taunting; getting people all over the world to fall into sin.

In the face of this Isaiah says "Lift up your eyes all around, and see." (verse 4) See in the darkness? No. Back up in the first verse he wrote "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord had risen upon you." God's Word shows us the way. In the darkest night, through the deepest blindness, God's Word comes to us as a lamp to our feet and a light to our path. (Psalm 119:105) That's how we can see.

One thing I love about this passage is the way it makes so clear to us our helplessness before God. Isaiah does not say that we should light a lamp to chase away the darkness. He doesn't say anything of the sort because us trying to do so would be a waste of time. GOD has to bring the light. In verse 1 we shine only because we reflect like mirrors (to borrow a phrase from St Paul - 2 Cor. 3:18) the glory of the Lord. In verse 2, while we sit in the deep darkness, the Lord will rise over us. He does it. Not us. Or, as Saint Paul writes in today's Epiphany Epistle, "this was according to the eternal purpose that has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord." (v. 11)

Exactly here is one of the places Isaiah's words from so long ago intersect with our traditional Epiphany thoughts of the wise men from the east. The magi were not moved to search for God until He first called them by the light of the star. They had nothing to look for and no light for their path in order even to start looking, until Jesus took on human flesh and came into the world.

Only this Light of the world could bring them hope, forgiveness, and eternal life. Jesus -- and only Jesus -- could bring these gifts to the wise men and to the rest of the sin-darkened world, to you and to me.

And that word "world" is a second place Isaiah's words intersect with and overlays Matthew's account of the wise men, as well as with Paul's words to the Ephesians in the Epistle for today.

The light of the Gospel is not reserved only for a select few. It has universal appeal. It is offered universally. To everyone.

Another name for today, for Epiphany, is the "Christmas for the Gentiles." This is because the wise men coming from the east (and not having a clear understanding of the prophecies concerning the Messiah) were themselves Gentiles. So when we observe Christ finally revealing Himself to them, we think of Him reaching beyond the Jews (beyond His family, and beyond the shepherds, and beyond Simeon and Anna, and beyond likely a good many others in and around Bethlehem and Jerusalem who had met Him by then). We see Jesus reaching beyond all of them to Gentles.

Paul's letter to the Ephesians carries this theme out in its time, as some 50 years later he tells them how God called him specifically to a ministry that would fulfill the work begun when the infant Christ evangelized the wise men. Paul says in Ephesians 3:8 that his God-given work is "to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ."

This global outreach was prophesied in our text from Isaiah. He says that the nations -- that is, the Gentiles -- will gather from all corners of the earth to the Light. Young and old, rich and poor, without regard to race or nationality. Everyone will be (and is even now) drawn to the Light the Gospel. Surely you've seen how turning on the porch light on a warm summer evening brings all kinds of insects flying. The darker the surrounding area is, the more and bigger the bugs at the light seem to be. Well, all people in all conditions in all nations of the world are drawn to the Light of the Gospel in the same way.

Why else would people beg for Bible translation teams to come to their villages to write down their languages for the first time ever, and to translate the Bible into their own native tongues. Why else would there be Christian churches all over the world? Why else would well-to-do wise men leave their comfortable studies to travel long distances over rugged country and then leave expensive gifts at the feet of a young Hebrew Baby?

And now we've come the the third place where today's lessons overlap. We're all familiar with the wise men's three gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. For them, the light of the Gospel showed them that the only real response was to offer their best to the newborn King.

Isaiah 60 rings with this same tune. "The wealth of the nations shall come" verse 5 reads. And in verse 6 the land is pictured as wall-to-wall camels, each burdened with wonderful gifts for the Lord; gold and incense being specifically mentioned.

An Epiphany challenge for each of us this morning is to ponder the question in the modern Christmas song about the little drummer boy, and ask ourselves "What shall I bring to Him?" The boy in the song plays his heart out for the baby Christ. In Isaiah it's riches in the form of wall-to-wall camels. In Matthew it's gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.

What is it here in the DC area? Here and now we, too, can only offer our best to Him Who died for us all. Jesus gave His life for us on an individual one-to-one basis. He died for each of us.

We offer our gifts to Him Who shines in our hearts. We bring our best talents, our quality time, and our dearest treasures to the Savior of us all.

As Paul told the Ephesians (3:6), we "Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the Gospel." Here in this place and time our clear response is to offer the same best gifts while we, too, reflect the light of the Gospel to still others.

We're no longer trapped in thick darkness. What a joy! Happy Christian Festival of Light! Blessed Christmas to the Gentiles!! Amen

And may the peace of God that passes all human understanding, keep your hearts and minds n Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

S.D.G.

"Depart in Peace," a sermon for the First Sunday in Christmas, 2015

I.N.I.

a sermon to be preached at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, Virginia on the Sunday after Christmas, 27 December 2015, and based on the Holy Gospel for the day: St. Luke 2:22-40

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ.

Can I ask those of you who are or were parents to think back to when you first became parents, and left home or hospital for the first time with your "little bundle of joy." Those of you who don't have that vocation, just try to play along in your imagination. If this trip happened at all recently, you had a secure car seat installed in your car and felt compelled to use it for your child's safety. Then in addition you probably took along a diaper bag, and maybe a bag of gifts that people had left for the baby, perhaps some flowers. And -- if you were like most first-time parents -- you also brought along a very large bag of fear and concern and questions. As your baby got older it seemed for a while that with every trip, every "first time" trip say to the doctor, or to a store, or to visit friends or the new grandparents, that every trip meant taking along yet more things than you carried on the last outing: toys, food, extra outfits, and so on. Life had very suddenly gotten way more complicated than it used to be.

Here on the first Sunday of Christmas (and there are only ever 1 or 2 Sundays that fall in the Christmas season) we always pause to consider in the Gospel for the day the story of Jesus going to the Temple for the first time. Our Savior was just 40 days old when His parents brought Him there, along with their sacrifice of two doves or pigeons, the poor person's sacrifice. Chances are that they walked, though if they did have transportation, a donkey perhaps, there certainly was no infant car seat. No special diaper bag. Almost none of the things that today's parents consider necessities on these newborn outings.

Mary and Joseph weren't on a long trip with Jesus. Jerusalem is only about 6 miles from Bethlehem. But verse 39 tells us that the holy family went on back home to Nazareth after they had visited the Temple, so they may have had everything packed up for a several days' journey if they left Judea directly without circling back south to Bethlehem. Either way they had lots to think about. And I think there's every chance that they were hoping for a quick in-and-out at the Temple. It's easy for me to picture Joseph as a practical planner, a carpenter who had to make estimates, buy wood, produce his work on schedule. I think of him as a man who was certainly going to do everything required of them by the Law, but who was also hoping to get out of Jerusalem ahead of the traffic and wanted to make their stop at the Temple as efficient as possible.

It didn't turn out that way.

As the family was making its way into the Temple someone accosted them, a righteous and devout man. He took this special baby into his own arms and launched into a blessing and prayer. And at that very moment an old woman approached them and began bubbling over with prayers of thanks to God that He had sent this child. Simeon and Anna are remembered to this day as early witnesses to the new and special thing that the Lord was doing for the entire globe in this baby boy. I want to spend some time with you this morning thinking a little about what Simeon had to say that day in Jerusalem.

Simeon's poem, or song, is today commonly called the "Nunc Dimittis." That's the Latin title, that translates the first couple words. It's really a remarkable opening line: "Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word." (verse 29) I think all the depictions that I have seen of this moment show Simeon as an old man who has been waiting and waiting for this event for years. But that could actually be based on the very brief biography we are given of Anna which tells us she was 84 years old that day in the Temple. But, actually, we aren't told Simeon's age. I can see this as just as remarkable story if Simeon is a younger man. The point would then be that he had only recently received this promise (verse 26) "that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ." And yet . . . he was now willing to "depart in peace." We might think that a startling thing for a young man to say that, but what else would a Simeon of any age have to look forward to? There was no higher point he could ascend in his earthly life. Simeon had now seen the Lord. Simeon had seen the Lord, and more than that, had gotten to hold the baby Jesus in his own arms. He was ready to go directly home to Heaven.

How about you? Are you ready to "depart in peace"? I would hope we all are. But I'm pretty sure that's not the case for everyone. I'm not suggesting we all make 'death wishes,' though. God has given us life and we ought to preserve it. But at the same time we also should be ready to lay it down when God calls us. That is the deepest and richest 'life wish' any of us can have. God speaks to us through His servant Simeon to instruct us in the path from life to eternal life.

So, again, are you ready to go? At the drop of a hat? At a moment's notice? In an instant, a twinkling of the eye? At any time this Baby born in Bethlehem, and then presented in the Temple, this little Child we've been singing about and reading about, this Jesus of Nazareth will suddenly come back. But there's an awfully good chance that some or all of us will be snapped out of this life into the next even before that. If we're not ready for either of those two options, why not?

I believe the main reason we might not be ready is that we really don't believe the rest of Simeon's first line, where he says "according to Your word." He is singing to the Lord that His -- the Lord's -- word has been fulfilled in this moment. It's a rich, multi-layered promise, this word is. In the immediate context Luke just told us (verse 26) about the promise Simeon had received. That particular word of promise had just been fulfilled. Here in his arms was the infant Child that Simeon somehow knew was "the Lord's Christ," the anointed One, the One set aside by God. He is the One Simeon had been waiting for. Now that Jesus was on earth, Simeon was relieved of his waiting. He could go home to the Lord.

But the deeper, older meaning was that all the prophecies so well known to Simeon and others were now fulfilled. All those old prophecies about the coming of the Messiah, the ones that Simeon had read and studied, the ones we hear in church, all those prophecies had been fulfilled in the birth of this little baby being presented in the Temple. All the conditions had been met. Here was the Promised One, the Chosen One.

On both counts, then, Simeon knew that the words of the Lord had been fulfilled, both the general promises to Israel, and the specific one to himself. The wonderful thing for us now is that as recipients of the same promises, we too can know that God's word has been fulfilled. And we really ought to live like it has been. That will free us from the things that weigh us down and that make us not ready to "depart in peace."

What do you suppose our lives would look like if we deeply believed that to be the case? May I suggest that one set of characteristics would be the things listed in our Epistle for today: Colossians 3:12-17.

In this wonderful passage Saint Paul refers to believers as "God's chosen ones, holy and beloved". You might be struck as I was with the way that sounds almost like a description of Jesus Himself. "Chosen One ... Holy ... Beloved." Well why not? If we Christians are indeed little Christs -- as our name implies -- then why not indeed? So our lives when we ready to "depart in peace" are at root lives that reflect our chosen-ness, our holiness, and our beloved-ness.

Then with that settled we "put on compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience." And that's just the first verse! Right there is material for a whole raft of sermons or studies. Maybe we can summarize them this way: if we are living lives in which we are ready to depart in peace we will be overwhelmingly compassionate to others, feeling the urgency of their situations over our own. If we are ready to depart in peace, we will treat others with deep kindness. Ready to depart in peace? If so, people will see evidence of your humility and meekness because you aren't driven by an urge for more and bigger and winning first place all the time in everything. And then as Christians ready to depart and be with the Lord, we will be ever so patient, modeling lives on Simeon and Anna who weren't trying to bring the advent of God's kingdom by force on their own timetables but were waiting for it day by day by day, and eventually saw their reward.

Paul goes on in Colossians 3 telling us that we are to be forgiving others, and to "put on love". And let the peace of Christ dwell in our hearts. AND be thankful. I think here that Saint Paul is transitioning from a focus on our relations with other people to our relation with God -- or, more properly, God's relation with us. It's not a sharp division though because all that we are, everything we do, is a reflection of what is in our hearts. It's a reflection of Christ in us.

And THAT, my friends, is how we can even begin to express any of the items on this list of Christian virtues in our own lives. Paul tell us in here Colossians 3 to "let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." There is the power. There is the strength. There is even the motivation. The word of Christ dwelling in us. I would urge you all to make a New Year's resolution to read God's word more regularly and devoutly in the coming year except for one thing: we all know how long New Year's resolutions traditionally last. So instead I will urge you to consider making more regular Bible reading one of the objects of your prayers in the coming weeks, months, and year.

While we're at that task, here's a way to work on the other things Paul lists there in today's Epistle: spend a little time with yourself over the next week thinking about the things Paul has directed us to (compassion, kindness, humility, and so on). Whichever one suggests itself to you as something that's not as evident in your life as it could be, focus on that one thing, praying about it, practicing it, yes even "working on it."

This is the formula for each of us to be able to "grow, and become strong, filled with wisdom" with the favor of God upon us. That's what the child Jesus did in the next years, according to Luke 2:40. And that's how each of us become more like Him. That's how we all can be God's servants, ready to depart in peace.

May that peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Amen

S.D.G.

Sermon for Advent 2

I.N.I.

A sermon to be preached at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, Virginia on 6 December 2015, the Second Sunday in Advent, and based on the Gospel for the Day, St. Luke 3: 1-14

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus our Lord,

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

John the Baptist. John the Baptizer. John the Baptizing One. He's usually the star of the story on the Second Sunday in Advent. Although, truth be told, he wouldn't like it we if left it at that. John always believed that his cousin Jesus was the star of the show: the great Morning Star whose arrival meant that a new day was dawning, that God was doing a whole new thing in the world. Which we would agree with, of course. So what I meant is that each year on the Second Sunday in Advent we read again a lesson that reminds us of John's activities that prepared the way for the Lord.

John was quite a character. If there had been cable news networks and social media outlets back then, he would have been all over them. He'd have been an Internet meme. His face would have been recognized worldwide, and maybe some part of his message would have been broadcast, too. Imagine what that would have been like. Imagine, if you will, what it would have been like to be there along the Jordan River to hear and see him.

John was far from unique on one level. There were other preachers in that day. There were people who lived the life of a prophet out in the wild places. There were self-proclaimed messiahs who gathered crowds around themselves. Some of these people would have made a real name for themselves in their day. But really none of them besides John are known today. So what would it have been like to hear him preach?

He seems to have worked in the same wilderness where he had been living. You remember his diet of locusts and wild honey, and that he wore a leather belt around his waist. Those were different enough traits to have been remembered and recorded. And he preached in “all the region around the Jordan” River (Luke 3:3), not deep in the cities. He was in the wilderness. The wilderness of the day was all that land that wasn't city or village or farmland. Unpopulated. But he wasn't preaching to the trees and bushes because the people went out to hear him. “The crowds came out” (3:7) to where he was.

So we've got a strangely-dressed and strangely-fed man outdoors in an unpopulated area along a river, and he's surrounded by people who want to see and hear him. Much of the Jordan is not a large river, averaging only 100 feet wide, not like the Potomac anyway. So above the noise of the crowds – and the preaching of the prophet – we can hear the murmuring of the water as it passes downstream. It's probably warm. Maybe even hot. Dry and a little dusty.

People in the crowds might be standing in clumps of two and three, with the friends they've walked with to get there from their village. It was a real mixed crowd, a cross section of the population, that included tax collectors (a real despised minority, though well off, or better off than most people because – as everyone knew – the tax collectors skimmed off the top of the revenues they were gathering for the occupying Romans). And, speaking of Romans, there were soldiers there engaging with John even though they may have been sent out to keep en eye on things, and maintain a little discipline. Since it was a religious message John had, there were probably religious professionals there, too, priests, Levites, Pharisees, and Saducees. We don't get much more detail from the Gospels, but judging from the composition of the crowds who came to hear Jesus, I suppose that there were women and children along as well. The young teenagers in groups off to the side of things, checking out who else was there and what they were wearing.

Now, without a PA system to amplify his voice, John was either shouting, or maybe circulating constantly through the crowd, or maybe the people were moving in and out of range, hearing him say something then wandering away to discuss it or think it over.

There was a lot to think over. A lot to discuss. Luke tells us that John was “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (3:3); that John did it in fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah about preparing the way of the Lord (3:4-6); and that when people came out to be baptized them he 'welcomed' them by calling them a “brood of vipers” (3:7) [which, yes, is an insult]. You sort of have to wonder about his approach, don't you? Did he expect that calling the people that would win them over? Or did he expect that many would automatically think John must have been referring to other people in the crowd? That's probably what we would think, isn't it? Or that the speaker was a crazy man.

Well, John was neither crazy nor was he talking about someone else. He was talking about everyone there. Everyone here, too. Did you notice his warning to them? He fingers the thing that most of them were certain of religiously, the thing that they could all agree on, the thing that probably meant the most to them. He focuses on their identity as “the chosen people.”

John said to them “do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our father'.” Why? Not because they didn't have Abraham as their father. But because starting right then, that heritage, that ancestry wasn't any longer going to be enough to cut it with God. They were still God's chosen people, of course, but John is saying that the franchise is being opened up much more broadly If you read the Old Testament, you see that once upon a time there was a sharp division between the children of Israel and the nations. But now that's ended. Although, a close reading of the Old Testament reveals many places where God speaks of Gentiles as believers. God could, if He wanted, raise up as many children of Abraham as there were stones under their feet. In other words, that in itself isn't a special trait any longer. If that bloodline is what you've been counting on to save you, John says, you're seriously misguided.

The axe, he says, is at the root of the tree, ready to chop it down. That ancient family tree, to be cut off at ground level, now means way less than it used to.

A question you might well ask yourselves is whether you're counting on some modern-day equivalent of that family tree for your salvation. Have you determined that you're a Lutheran, the child of Lutherans, and therefore – just because of that membership – well-assured of salvation? Are you counting on the fact that you're living in America to help you through into eternal life? Do you maybe even keep track of the fruit that you bear, convinced that bearing fruit “in keeping with repentance” (verse 8) will be what gets you where we all want to end up? If so, beware. “Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees”.

There's only one tree that will help us, and that's the tree on which Jesus died. You remember that John the Baptizer was living in the very last days before Jesus was revealed to the world. So there were details about salvation he did not go into. He was just preparing the way. His calling was to speak the truth about the human condition to those who would have the first chance to hear the Gospel message directly from Jesus. In a way it seems that his ministry was to rough things up a bit, to rile people up, to upset the religious apple carts of his day, to get them talking. His ministry was to get people asking “Well, okay, if God doesn't want all that from us, then what shall we do?”

John's answer is “Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. … Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (verses 8 and 9) Okay, fine, the people think, at least there's a plan. We can't rely just on being children of Abraham any more in this new paradigm of John's, but we need now to bear fruit. Good, we can do that. Except that, well wait, John also says that if has to be “good fruit” because otherwise our trees become quick fire wood.

John's got his listeners hooked. He's a wise preacher after all. He got their attention with the “brood of vipers” remark, then hooked them with his comments about their family tree going back to Abraham, and then they have to ask the next question. They have to ask the follow-up. “The crowds asked him, 'What then shall we do?'” (verse 10) He got them to ask him what they needed to do. If John had started out at that point, the crowds wouldn't have been ready to listen to him. But they asked.

So here's the lesson, here's the point that John's been leading up to. If any of you have 2 tunics, 2 winter coats, say, 2 down jackets, give one to a person who doesn't have one. If anyone has food, do the same and share it. (And can we just notice in passing that John does NOT say 'anyone who has extra food...' or 'anyone who has enough food...' or 'anyone who has food to spare...'. John's criteria is “whoever has food” is to give it to him who has none.)

But that's not all. The tax collectors there in the crowd wanted to know what they should do (as if there were probably going to be special rules for them as Jews who were working for the Romans). Or maybe they weren't completely sincere and were just waiting for John to tell them to give up their jobs, the kind of thing they'd heard before. But, no, John says simply “collect no more than you are authorized to do.” So in their case, it wasn't going to be a matter of going into their closets and pantries and giving up their extras to the poor. They were being charged to do their jobs honestly. So, yes, it'd likely have the result of a lowered standard of living for them, but at least now it'd be an honest living.

And then the soldiers also asked John what they should do. In some ways the most interesting segment of the crowd, don't you think? Were these Roman soldiers assigned as crowd control? Had someone hired them to moonlight on a security detail? Had they just happened by and been attracted by the sights and sounds? Whatever their reason for being there in the first place, their purpose now was to show us that this new world being announced by John was for everyone. He didn't say 'forget about it, you guys are Romans and this word is only for the privileged chosen people.' Remember that John had already demolished that old privileged position. He treats the soldiers like everyone else in his audience, giving them a direct and clear answer: “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” Much like the tax collectors, the soldiers are also called to just do their jobs.

Well, then, what about us on the other side of the world and 2000 years later? Does any of this apply to us, is it meaningful now? Oh, yes, indeed. We are no longer a people waiting for the appearance of our Messiah. We are a people waiting for Christ's return. Yet there are ways that John's message applies to us today. Think about how John's directions for bearing fruit all happen to be various ways of walking with the poor. Share your extra coat; share your food; don't skim money that would help the poor; and don't extort money from the powerless. So, helping the poor is one way to bear fruit. And that's clearly something we can do.

I also think it's pretty clear that John just wants people to do their jobs, to fulfill their callings in life. If everyone did that, and there was no more cheating or corruption, then he sees a future that is better for all. What's your calling in life? What is your vocation? How are you fulfilling it?

John was bringing people to repentance and baptizing them. But as Christians you've already been “called, gathered, enlightened, and sanctified” (as we learned in the Small Catechism). So what now? Our basic calling as Christians is to “thank and praise, serve and obey” God. We can start going about doing these our jobs as Christians, by reading God's Word and by celebrating the Sacraments. We gather together rejoicing that the Jesus who was preached by John the Baptizer is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world through His suffering and death. We sing His praises. We bless His name. And we eagerly look forward to His Second Coming.

Amen.

And may the peace of God that passes all human understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

S.D.G.

It's What We Do While We're Still Waiting

I.N.I.

A sermon to be preached at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, Virginia on Christ the King Sunday, that is 22 November 2015, and being based on the Holy Gospel for the Day, St. Matthew 25:31-40

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus our Lord!

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Here it is, Christ the King Sunday again. That's what we call the last Sunday of the Church Year, the Sunday before Advent starts us off on another year. “Christ the King” … I noticed it doesn't say “Christ the President”. Which, I think, makes it a little harder for those of us with elected governments to really understand the image. We haven't had a king here since the 1700s when the British colonists, some of them anyway, chose Revolution rather than the status quo. So that's way before any of us remember. It might as well be as far in the past as the 800s when Charlemagne was emperor in Europe. We Americans don't remember or know what it really means to live under a king.

So I think it might be a little hard for us to unpack all the meaning in Jesus's words that make up today's Gospel. But we'll try anyway, because this is an important passage.

According to the beginning of chapter 24 Jesus said these words while sitting on the Mount of Olives, a small ridge across a little valley to the east of Jerusalem. It seems to have been a favorite place of Jesus. The Garden of Gethsemane is there. And Jesus would be in that Garden a handful of days after He spoke our Gospel to His disciples. This lesson comes at the end of a long day of teaching, first publicly in the Temple itself with the crowds, and then here privately on the Mount with His disciples. The teachings focus ever more closely on Christ's Second Coming, and on our judgment at the end of time.

The disciples would have had a better feel than we do for what it meant to say that the King was coming. They lived in a world of emperors and kings, with the Caesar in Rome, and King Herod, and so on. So they understood. They understood that the king himself wielded all authority. If they ever heard the phrase “balance of power” they understood it to mean that, on balance, the rulers had all the power. It was a rough world for everyone not in power, that is, for everyone other than the king and his favorites. Which means also that they probably had a quick emotional response to the idea that the coming King was going to judge them.

And here we listen in as Jesus tells them that “when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. Before Him will be gathered all the nations, and He will separate people one from another....” (25:31, 32) Yep, here it comes: the impending judgment. A division of the peoples. Some to the left; some to the right. At least what Jesus says has some sense and reason to it. And there it is: all nations are gathered, and then all the people are divided.

Now unless you're a brand new Christian, you've heard this passage before or read it in your Bible. You know how it goes, as I do. This is Jesus talking about His own second coming – His coming as a King in glory and majesty. He had come into Jerusalem as a humble king at the beginning of the week, riding on the donkey and surrounded by the children and the palm branches and hearing the Hosannas. Here He's talking about the final judgment at the end of the world. It's a scene we're all waiting for; and it's appropriate to think about it as we're about to launch into our annual season of re-enacting the waiting for His first coming as a baby in Bethlehem. We seem so much more eager to do our Advent waiting for Christmas than we are to do our daily waiting for the Second Coming.

Why is that? Maybe it's that Christmas comes every year, while the Second Coming hasn't happened even once. I think, too, perhaps it's because we're afraid. Are we afraid that maybe we are going to end up on His left hand with the goats instead of on His right hand with the sheep? Are we afraid that maybe we haven't been doing the things we should have been doing, living the way we should have been living? Afraid because of our sins? If that's the case, then what was the whole first coming about? If we're afraid to stand before Christ the King sitting on His throne, then what was His manger and cross all about? He came into this world to gain us forgiveness, so that's taken care of. The Holy Spirit came on each one of us, giving us the gift of faith that Jesus's death and resurrection counts for us. Our job now is to live in that faith. As believers who trust in God's promises, the Second Coming should not make us afraid.

But you know what it is in this passage that has caught my eye for a while? It's the verse where the people on Jesus's right side say “Wait! What? You were hungry and we gave you food? You were thirsty, and … and a stranger? No, I would have remembered that. What are You talking about?” [that's a paraphrase]

Yes, Jesus replies, that was Me. When you did your works of love and mercy to the most insignificant people around, the ones other people considered worthless, then you were doing those things to Me! Really!

What catches my eye about this particular verse is that the sheep-people are as confused about the daily presence of Jesus in their lives as the goat-people are in the rest of the passage when they are told “you didn't do these things unto Me.” You can hear the shouts from the left side “no fair! If we'd known it was You, if You'd let us know, of course we would have helped You out, we're not heartless; give us a break.” That's the goat-people.

But as the sheep-people, we will be just as mystified about how Jesus could have been the recipient of our charity. And the thing is, see, that I believe the reason the sheep are mystified, the reason they aren't sure how they could have been ministering to Jesus, is that they were just going about their business. They hadn't been keeping an eye out for Jesus as the goats maybe just might have been (although, really, do you actually think they were? If anything, the goats might have been watching for Jesus only to the extent that a lazy employee keeps an eye out for the boss's approach and only gets to working hard when the supervisor comes by.). The sheep on Jesus's right hand were visiting the sick and imprisoned, were clothing the naked and welcoming the strangers, they were feeding the hungry, just because that's what they normally did. It was their way of life. It was how they conducted themselves.

Someone's hungry? Well, of course you'll feed him or her! That was their attitude during life. So when the King tells them this from His throne they're a little confused by how they could have missed Jesus if He had been hungry or sick or a stranger. They weren't really looking for Jesus. They were just doing what they normally did.

The point here is not that the way to get into Heaven is to offer charity to the needy. It isn't. The point is that for those of us forgiven by God because of Jesus's death on the cross and His resurrection to life, we the people of God now just do these things naturally as part of who we are. It's how we act. It's how we behave. It's what we do.

And it's what we do without recognizing – or even looking for – the face of Christ on those receiving our help. The sheep in this Gospel lesson didn't know that they had been helping Jesus whenever they helped the least of these His brothers, and we certainly don't know that we are helping Jesus whenever we help the least in today's world. But it's all here in the Gospel. This explanation of what happens when the followers of Christ act warmly and charitably to those in need.

So, for unbelievers it makes no sense to look for the King. They wouldn't know Him even if they tripped over Him. But for believers, it is a natural part of our new life to look for the King in the face of our brothers and sisters.

This Christ the King Sunday happens to fall in Thanksgiving week -- or the other way around, Thanksgiving happens to fall in Christ the King week. That seems to make it an appropriate time for us to consider the life and death needs of our King's other children. In only a few days, after all, most or all of us will sit down to our typical American Thanksgiving feasts – when those in deep need won't even be able to count on a simple meal.

Matthew 25 makes it clear what our charge is. If we do not give food to the hungry, if we do not give a drink to the thirsty, if we do not welcome the stranger, if we do not clothe the naked, if we do not visit the sick and the imprisoned, then we will be among the goats sent to the eternal fire. If we have not done those things, then we haven't carried out our responsibilities as members of the Kingdom and show by our lack of works that we have no faith underneath. If we haven't done those things, we are guilty of ignoring the King.

But if we have?? Then we will inherit the Kingdom prepared for us from the foundation of the world. If we have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, welcomed the stranger and all the rest, then we have done these things for our King.

Our search for the King's face in the faces of the hungry, the naked, and the strangers is a search that pleases God. When God called us to be in mission and ministry, he called us to (among other things) help those in need as if we were helping Christ Himself. To this end we remember our church's outreach and the outreach of community and international aid organizations that help people on our behalf in places we cannot go, done only with our support and backing..

We live in a fortunate part of the world, as you know. Here in America there are comparatively few people who go completely without food for days, or who live out in the open air with barely any clothing and hardly any family and friends. Here in this country we don't have people washing up on our shorelines desperate to escape violence and bloodshed and persecution in their home country.

And merely because these people don't knock on our doors for help, that's no reason to deny them our help. As Christian people, our help should extend around the world. We can find the face of Christ our King in the faces of the hungry, the dispossessed, the refugee, the homeless and naked and stranger everywhere in the world. We can simply love those people for Christ's sake, and give them what they need.

Christ our King searched each of us out when we were lost sheep. He brought us into safe places. He nurtured us. Our response, out of love and gratitude includes our search for other people with whom to share the Gospel about Christ, and with whom to share our material blessings. Let's give everyone some thing to be thankful for.

Amen.

And the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord and King. Amen

S.D.G.

A Sermon

I.N.I.

a sermon to be preached at Christ Episcopal Church, Accokeek, Maryland on 15 November 2015, that is, the 25th Sunday after Pentecost and the Third Sunday of End Time (Proper 28 [33]), and based on the Epistle for the day, Hebrews 10:11-25

Grace, mercy and peace be your in Chris Jesus, our Lord.

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Most of us want to live fully-rounded lives in which we are surrounded by family and friends, able to work satisfying work, followed by resting comfortably as we relax and refresh ourselves with good, healthy food in safe and secure surroundings. I'd even say that most people in the world want the same sort of thing for themselves. While the definitions of "safe," "healthy," "relax," "satisfying," and "work" variy from one person to the next, it makes sense that everyone at least wants things in life to be okay, and would really like things to be better than okay.

And lots of people are willing to make great sacrifices so that they can enjoy that kind of life. Or so that their children can enjoy that "better than okay" kind of life. Maybe you or people in your family made great sacrifices so that others could go to college. Maybe you sacrificed a successful career in order to stay at home while your children were little. Maybe you can identify with refugees around the world who sacrifice everything but the clothes on their backs in order to get to a country where they'll be safe, secure, and free. People often give up a lot, sacrifice things, for a greater good, or to achieve something of value. Which brings us to today's Scriptures.

Our Old Testament ancestors, when they were doing their religion right, sacrificed a lot. It would be an instructive exercise to read slowly through the first 5 books of the Old Testament and write down how many and what kind of sacrifices are written about there. All kinds of domesticated livestock were to be offered up at various times for various reasons. There were also offerings of grain, and olive oil, and even salt. It was an ancient system that traces back at least to Genesis 4, where both Cain and Abel - the sons of Adam and Eve - offer to God some of the fruits of their agricultural labors. Much later -- and after many other sacrifices you can read about -- the Lord standardized the system in the laws given to the Israelites during the Exodus from Egypt.

It is these latter sacrifices, the system of daily sacrifices and sin offerings and all the rest that were made first in the Tabernacle (during the Exodus and earliest years in the Promised Land), and then made in the Temple in Jerusalem (during the years the people of God were not in exile and the years the Temple was not destroyed) -- it is these sacrifices that the writer to the Hebrews is referring to at the beginning of today's Epistle: "Every priest stands daily ministering and offering time after time the same sacrifices..." (Heb 10:11).

I have trouble imagining what that must have been like. The noise. The smells. The crowds. The blood. The confusion. I think I would have had difficulty obtaining a sense of worship there – maybe if I had grown up in that system it would have been comfortable, but I didn't. I would have gotten a sense of relief out of it ... after I had left. And that was really the point of the sacrificial system: to be an offer of forgiveness and relief and peace to the faithful, penitent person coming to God with an offering of the finest animal they had ... leaving it there at the altar to be killed and then burnt up, wholly consumed by the fire til nothing was left.

And the priests, we are told here in Hebrews, stood there day after day repeating the same sacrifices over and over again, sacrifices which -- we are also told in the rest of verse 11 -- "can never take away sins." That thought must have struck at least some of the priests and people, as if they said “Here we are again; making the same offering, the same sacrifice; maybe this time it will be enough, maybe this time the Lord will be satisfied, maybe this time my heart will come away at peace.” But, no, that wasn't to happen. The next day the priests were back on duty; the animals were lined up again; the knives were sharpened; the fires stoked; the prayers said and rituals performed; and the sacrifices started up again. If it wasn't that the Law commanded that they were to do these things, certainly many would have come to the conclusion that these sacrifices "can never take away sins."

And then into this world came Jesus.

Our Gospel reading from Mark 13 shows Him and some of the disciples at this same Temple. In Mark 12 He had been with them inside the Temple teaching, discussing, disputing. Then right before our lesson "He sat down opposite the treasury, and began observing how the people were putting money into the treasury" the rich making an offering of large sums and the poor widow putting in her two small copper coins. After pointing that out to His disciples, they left the Temple complex.

As they walked out, one of the disciples -- we don't know which one, but he was showing his country roots -- marveled out loud like a tourist "Look Teacher! What large stones and what large buildings!" (Mark 13:1) If there had been an Internet back then, he would have had pictures on Facebook or Instagram or something as soon as he could get a connection. Jesus's response was both loving and understanding and unsettling all at once: "You see these big buildings? Not one stone will be left upon another...." (Mark 13:2)

The brighter disciples were set to thinking what that meant. No stones piled up meant no buildings. No buildings meant no Temple. No Temple meant no place to offer sacrifices. No sacrifices meant . . . well, what did it mean? It would have meant that the sacrificial system was coming to an stop, that either they were a dead end, or maybe that they'd finally be enough.

But God had a surprise. If the disciples had been really listening to Jesus, especially in the previous weeks and months, then they would perhaps have understood what the surprise was. Yes, the Temple was going to be destroyed and the endless sacrifices brought to an end (that was going to happen about 40 years later). But, no, it wasn't because those animal sacrifices burnt on the altar had finally been enough. Before the Temple destruction came to pass, the writer to the Hebrews explained what really happened. He wrote "but He [Jesus], having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God ... For by one offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified." (Heb 10:12, 14). For the time being, the priests still stood day after day at the altar because their work was never-ending; while Jesus was sitting down at the right hand of God, His work done.

The endless sacrifices of animals were coming to an end because the one sacrifice of Jesus finally took away all sins for all time.

Which means that believers here in Accokeek and around the world can rejoice. God doesn't want us sacrificing animals day after day. God's justice isn't still waiting to be satisfied for the sins that you and I commit day after day. (Although I wouldn't be surprised if He got annoyed at the way we so often try to fall back on a sacrificial system as if it would do us some good.)

Maybe it's not the bloody animal sacrifices again. And it probably isn't the sacrifices that parents make so their children can go to college, or the sacrifices refugees make to escape persecution and death in their homelands. But I'm pretty sure all of us - at least from time to time - start to feel as if something else we do or say or give up will maybe somehow, even just a little, show the Lord how good we are, or how worthy we are, or how much we ought to get some blessing from Him. Our Scriptures for today tell us that that system of trying to please God just doesn't cut it. The priests stand there day after day, because that job was literally an endless one. Jesus was sitting down because His one sacrifice of Himself was over and done, good for all time and all people.

Now if you still want to DO something -- and out of your thankfulness and gratefulness to God for His forgiveness that now yours in the wake of Jesus's crucifixion and resurrection, you DO want to do something -- keep reading the lesson in Hebrews for guidance.

"Therefore" he writes in verse 19, as a result of what I just told you and growing out of the new life you have in Jesus, "Therefore ... since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He inaugurated for us through the veil, that is, His flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God..." (Heb 10:19-21), because of all this, let's do some things in response. The normal Christian life, in other words, isn't one where we try to be good enough for God, worried about how and whether we measure up, scared of upsetting an angry old God in Heaven. That was all taken care of by the sacrificial death of the perfect Son of God on the cross. The normal Christian life is the life of forgiven children who have confidence to enter the holy place. And in that confidence, let us ... well, there are a few things listed here in Hebrews 10 that I want us to go through slowly enough to really hear them.

First, "let us draw near [to God] with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water." (10:22) Cleansed inside and out, fully believing in what God has done for us, our old evil consciences sanitized and made whole again, assured by faith that God really means what He said about forgiving us, let us draw near. He's still God. He's still king of the universe. He's still our perfect and eternal father. But we don't have any reason to draw back from Him. So let's you and me draw near. Let's come to Him. Let's come meet Him in the Sacrament. Let's hear what He has to say in His Word. Let's find God in all things, big and small. The earth is full of the glory of God, and finding Him in it is a treasure hunt, a joyful joy-bringing way to spend our time wherever we are.

Second, "let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering for He who promised is faithful." (10:23) We regularly make confession of our faith using the words of the Creeds. And in those creeds we express our belief in things like the forgiveness of sins and the resurrection of the body, things that we hope for, that we have a deep and sure expectation and desire that they will happen. Why in the world can we be so certain that something as outrageous as the resurrection of our bodies will actually happen? Because He -- that is, Jesus -- has promised us it'll happen. He then rose from the dead Himself, becoming what we call the firstfruits of the resurrection. That makes it certain. That makes it sure. That makes it absolutely bound to happen. So let's you and me hold tight to the confession of our hope. Let's talk about it amongst ourselves. Let's even share that hope with others.

Third, "let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds." (10:24) Here, maybe for some, things get a little trickier because this involves other people. I mean, I can draw near to God in a little prayer closet, and I can hold fast the confession of the hope in me without moving a muscle. But to start stimulating others to love and good deeds necessarily involves other people. And what if other people start stimulating me to love and good deeds! Well, this IS a communion of saints we're in si it's bound to happen. The real problem, however, is that we might set out stimulating people to do the stuff that we don't want to do ourselves off onto someone else by calling them 'good deeds'. Or we might try to stir up guilt in order to get someone to do these things rather than stirring up love. If our relationships are not the fruit of freedom, then they probably aren't the fruit of love. Yet we can point out to others opportunities to do good deeds when we see something that needs doing and that matches their talents. We can express our love of others by telling them how much we appreciate their gifts and talents. So let's do all we can to stimulate others to love and good deeds.

Fourth, let us "not forsake our own assembling together" (10:25a) This, well, this this morning it's kind of 'preaching to the choir,' isn't it? Because you're all here. And most of us are here most every week unless we're sick or out of town. We do assemble together. So perhaps we can take this as an admonition to find ways to get other people to assemble with us in order to "pray, praise, and give thanks." We can also view this as one of the ways in which we can carry out the third imperative to stimulate one another to love and good deeds. Being together, especially for services of worship, to receive the Eucharist, to hear and learn God's Word ... these are deep ways in which we stimulate others to good works, to works done in and from love. So let's you and me not forsake assembling together.

Fifth, let us "encourage one another" (10:25b) This life of drawing near to God, of holding tightly to our confession of hope, of stimulating one another to love and good deeds, this new life in Christ will and does attract opposition. Speaking plainly, Satan doesn't want us to do any of this. So he throws up opposition and roadblocks, and tries everything he can to pull us off the path we are on. Not a one of us is immune. Which means that every one of us is in need of encouragement from time to time. So let's you and me prime ourselves to be in the habit of encouragement, especially of others in the family of faith.

These five imperatives can only make sense to us growing out of the once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus. If ever we are or were stuck in the old way, the pre-Jesus way, of doing things and if we are or were focused mostly on trying to sacrifice our way into God's good graces, well, we'd find that the old never-ending loop just wouldn't let us get to the point of living the Gospel life of these imperatives.

But remember this: Jesus "offered one sacrifice for sins for all time ... [and] by [that] one offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified" (10:11,13). WE are sanctified by the blood of the Lamb. WE are washed clean by the pure water of Baptism. Because of God's gracious and loving acts, WE are able to draw near. WE can hold fast the confession of our hope for the resurrection. WE can stimulate each other to love and good deeds.

Our God is so good to us.

Amen

May the peace of God which passes all human understanding keeps your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen

S.D.G.