Author: Higher Things

Rev. Gaven M. Mize

“Things happen for a reason.” Such ambiguity never actually offers comfort to a person. What this well-meaning platitude does end up doing is cause the hearer to interject their own reason as to why this thing happened to him. It is a horrible form of self-medication. And the worse the situation, the less meaningful this phrase actually is, and the more insulting it truly is. But, we can’t just stand there in the midst of tragedy and say nothing. We want to fix what is broken. But sometimes it’s not possible. You can’t fix a crack in the heart with a hammer.

“Things happen for a reason,” just doesn’t cut it. And Christians have adopted their own version of this. It often happens when standing by the casket of a loved one. “Why did this happen?” “Sin,” says the good-hearted friend. This is, of course, correct. But it is also incomplete. Yes, Christ makes it clear that the wages of sin is death. And God never promised us that all things would be great. But, where is the hope if we stop at “sin” as the reason?

So we must not stop there. People are confronted with their sin at their death and so the craving for the Gospel is a present reality. They desperately need Christ on the cross, more than ever. And why would we ever give those who survive the saint in the coffin a false gospel in the words of “it happened for a reason.” These words imply that God has a plan that hasn’t been carried out. He took them for a reason. What could that reason be?


God’s will has already been carried out: His own Son there on the cross. He looked down on Good Friday and saw those whom He would soon save from the sin that leads to death. And nothing has changed except the tense of the verbs. You have been bought at a precious and ever-giving price. Jesus. He is the reason that we have been rescued from the grave.

The number one promise that God makes throughout Scripture is that He is with us. And He has told us where He is. The presence of God is found in the baptismal Font and on the Altar in His Body and Blood. And this reality of the forgiveness of sins doesn’t leave us as we leave the church building. It doesn’t leave us as we grow weary and tired of this wicked world. It doesn’t leave us when our eyes grow heavy in death. It doesn’t leave us ever.

God never promised that life would be easy. He didn’t promise earthly happiness. He promised His Presence. “Lo, I am with you always,” in the Supper and in the waters. We may wrestle with God over the stuff of life that rattles us and then try to hold Him to promises of glee and bliss on this earth that He never made. But in the end there is only the Incarnation and the Resurrection. And in between those there is only the crucifixion. So, when our time of dying comes, and we look around for the promises of God we will find the death of Jesus and in that death we shall find life in God.

When all else fails, which includes our hearts, there is always Christ crucified and the forgiveness from Him that flows to font and cup, upon and within us. And I’m good with the true comfort that offers.

Rev. Gaven M. Mize serves as pastor at Augustana Lutheran Church, Hickory, North Carolina.

Bethany Woelmer

Those images are still etched in my head-the picture of Christ, His eyes sunken with the weight of what is yet to come, His head pierced with thorns encircling his brow, and His own bride behind Him. Her arms are crossed and her head is down. She is clothed in a white garment that covers her and makes her beautiful-the kind of beauty that is not found within this world and the kind of beauty that is holy and pure because of Christ. And there’s another picture: the bride, with her arms still crossed and her eyes gazing at her Husband, slain and wounded on the cross, His body hanging in suspension and coming down to meet her, looking at her with eyes filled with love and mercy.

Those sounds are still ringing in my ears-the sounds of hymns that deliver such sweet Gospel, the sounds that carry the words of Christ’s bride, “Zion hears the watchmen singing / And all her heart with joy is springing; / She wakes, she rises from her gloom,” sounds that sprout forth from the faith she has been given, these sounds that blossom in such beautiful harmony and soaring melody. And there’s yet another sound, the sound of the Bridegroom himself, who “comes down all glorious, / The strong in grace, in truth victorious,” the sound of grace in the midst of suffering, triumph in the midst of war, and love in the midst of sin that fights everyday to remove this love found in Christ.

The picture of the church is a glorious one. God’s holiness, as manifest before Moses in the burning bush and in the temple before Isaiah, is full of perfection, power, and loving-kindness. It was made manifest in human form, in the person of Jesus Christ, to bring forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation to a world wounded with suffering and stricken with sin and death. God’s holiness comes from heaven to earth where He has promised: in His Word, His life-giving Body and Blood for the forgiveness of sins, His Holy Absolution, Baptism, and the preaching of the Gospel for sinners.

Sinners. That means all of us, poor and miserable, beating our breasts in utter depravity and crying out, “Lord, have mercy on me.” That means all of us, who “daily sin much and surely deserve nothing but punishment.” We have been ashamed of our nakedness since the time we were stripped of our perfectness in the Garden of Eden.

The Church. That means all of us, too, washed and cleansed in the waters of Holy Baptism, fed by the Word made flesh, and filled with the words of the sweet Gospel melody that says, “You are saved by Christ alone. He bought you with His blood. You are His Own to live under Him in His kingdom.”

The picture of the Church is a glorious one, because she is adorned with salvation. Her jewels sparkle with the light of Christ’s truth, her garments flowing with the eternal blessing of life and salvation, her robe adorning her body with righteousness as she shares in the union with God, the Three in One-this “mystic, sweet communion” in which she delights and rejoices in hope for the eternal life that is to come.

This picture is a mere glimpse and a foretaste of the fuller picture that is to come on the Last Day when the Lord will come again in triumph to bring His bride, the church, to a more perfect home in heaven. The pictures and sounds we experience here on earth that connect us to the true picture of Christ and the Church are mere fragments of the bigger picture of perfectness that we will experience when God will “take us from this valley of sorrow to Himself in heaven.” There, the picture, given to us by faith, of those bright jewels and white garments of righteousness will find its place with all the saints surrounding God’s throne of salvation. There, the sounds carried to us by words and music of glorious truth and splendor will find a place amidst the faithful warriors, triumphant soldiers, and saints of Christ whose “gleaming robes of white” shine bright within this sweet land of paradise the blest.

Here on earth, the sinful flesh needs Christ. It needs to be reminded of the image of Christ and the Church, over and over again. Such blessed imagery fills our eyes and ears with this glimpse of heaven, while our souls are forgiven time and time again by the Gospel. Here on earth, as long as suffering and sin continues, the church will always remain, because Christ will never leave us nor forsake us. He is with us every step of the way on our journey to heaven, as a true Bridegroom leads His bride, reminding her of the eternal joys yet to come when He will “wipe away every tear from her eyes” and present her as His Own to live with Him in heaven forever.


Bethany Woelmer is a member of St. John’s Lutheran in Topeka, KS.

Rev. Randy Blankschaen

“You are the same species as God.” That’s what a visiting presenter said about a month ago at Immanuel Lutheran Church of Pensacola, Florida. As I sat there, I’d like to say that you could hear a pin drop, but that wasn’t the case. What I saw instead were people who had their systems shocked. They weren’t angry or appalled. The audience didn’t disagree. It was just that the gears got jolted. We all paused. We all pondered. We all thought, “Yep. Can’t argue with that.” Of course, context is everything.

How could we disagree? St. John wrote, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). We confess Christ in the Nicene Creed: “who (that’s Jesus!) for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary and was made man.” Jesus is true God. Yep. Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit. God was in the Virgin’s womb. God was in the feeding trough all swaddled up. Although He was stripped and crucified for you, Jesus didn’t take off His flesh or slough off His body when He rose from the grave. He is evermore true man. You are the same species as God.

This Christmas, take a pause. After cramming down cookies, sing a carol. After you’re done inserting silly stuff into “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” maybe attend service at your church, and hear and sing of Christ the Lord who was born for you. Receive God’s true Body and Blood under bread and wine for the forgiveness of sins, for your life, for your salvation. After all, Jesus isn’t in the manger and stall. But He is where He has promised to be.

Take a pause and take some time to ponder God’s love for you. Slugs or worms can’t say that God became what they are. But we sinner-slugs and bags of worms can. God became flesh. Jesus is true man. How honored are you? How graced are you? How much does God love you? God came down to earth from heaven so that He’s with you and you’re with Him evermore.

Merry Christmas!

Rev. Randy Blankschaen serves as pastor at Immanuel Lutheran Church, Pensacola, Florida.