Category: Current Events

Emma Kovachevich

I attended the Bread of Life Conference in Cedar Falls, Iowa this year. My favorite part of the conference was the church services, especially Evening Prayer. The liturgy was absolutely beautiful. I greatly savored the fellowship experienced by singing the liturgy and hymnody with hundreds of other youth who “Dare to be Lutheran®.”

I also particularly enjoyed the breakaway on marriage and dating taught by Pastor Buetow. We learned that marriage is the union of man and woman, which is the picture of Christ being joined to His Bride, the Church. Pastor Buetow, like all of the other presenters, is informative and entertaining at the same time.

Finally, I thoroughly relished the free time activities such as knockerball, swimming, and, of course, the chant-off.

I am looking so forward to next year’s conference!

Emma Kovachevich is a member at Calvary Lutheran Church in Elgin, Illinois.

Monica Berndt

I really enjoy watching the Summer Olympic Games. Participating in several summers of competitive swimming has turned my family and I into full-time Olympic swimming watchers, but I also really enjoy gymnastics, diving, and track and field. The stories that come with every Olympic games are filled with hard work, dedication, and personal sacrifice and it is thrilling to watch these amazing athletes achieve their goals.

There is always something else that comes with the Olympics: Every year there is a scandal, a piece of drama that everyone is ready to sink their teeth into and parade around the whole world. No matter how much you try to ignore it, there always seems to be some type of black cloud hovering over the Olympic Games. Some years there is political drama within the host country, other years there is a scandal over environmental concerns, and some years there are charges of cheating. Unfortunately, since we live in a world that is perpetually tainted by sin, we can never escape scandals and drama, and this fact holds just as true for the Olympics as it does for everyday life.

This year, one of the larger scandals that appeared on the Olympics’ global stage was the entrance of over 150 Russian athletes who were originally suspended because of the mass use of performance-enhancing drugs. Several of these athletes had not passed drug tests just a few months prior to the games, and were only admitted to the games by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) a few days prior to the start of the games. As the Russian athletes entered the stadium in Rio de Janeiro, many members of the audience booed because they did not think it was fair for these athletes to be competing. Many of the athletes were angry and frustrated as well, saying it was not fair for the IOC to let the Russians compete while everyone else followed the rules.

God does not deal fairly either. It can be so tempting to look around on Sunday morning and wonder how certain people end up in church. “Oh look, the Martins are here. It must only be because their family is in town.” “I bet they’ll only show up until their kids are confirmed.” “I know that Mr. _____ goes drinking on the weekends.” We can spend our time pouting about why God lets certain people into His church and never spend a moment thinking about how we, the whining, pouting, and disagreeable sinners, also have no business being allowed into the presence of the Almighty God. God does not play fair, and it is a GOOD thing. If God dealt fairly with us and our sins, we would be damned to hell on the spot and never allowed even a glimpse of heaven.

Like the Russian athletes who should probably not have been allowed to compete, we, too, should not have been allowed access to God and His grace. We only do through the great sacrifice of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who died on the cross for our sins. He is the reason we can enter church on Sunday morning. He is the reason we can come to the Lord’s Table and receive the forgiveness of sins by eating and drinking His very Body and Blood. We could never work hard enough to achieve this on our own—not even to achieve 0.000001% of our own salvation. It all comes from Christ and we have done nothing to deserve it. Thankfully, God has chosen mercy over fairness.

Monica Berndt is a member at Messiah Lutheran Church in Seattle, Washington. She attends the University of Washington where she studies choral music and history.

Molly Buffington

Two hours on the interstate and I was there: Bread of Life 2016 in Nashville. I had never been to a Higher Things conference before, but here I was, a College Conference Volunteer (CCV). I hit the ground running—my days were busy, from directing arriving families and church groups to their dorms, to running from Matins and Vespers to help pastors find their breakaway sessions, to laughing at the latest theological joke from one of the other CCVs. I walked far, slept little, and smiled often.

Working the conference was exciting, but it was also edifying. The half-dozen breakaways I went to didn’t pull any punches; crowds of youth eagerly listened to presentations that all taught the depth of our sin and the sweet forgiveness won for us by Christ. The plenary speakers pointed us to the very Bread of Life—Jesus—in, with, and under the Sacrament of the Altar, forgiving our sins and giving us eternal life. And during those four days we ate and drank that Sacrament TWICE and in between we sang hymns, listened to sermons, and remembered our baptisms.

My week at Higher Things consisted of sore ankles, drippy water bottles, and Christ crucified for me. I loved chat with pastors who had made videos and written articles I’d read when my family first became Lutheran, and I had so much fun befriending the fourteen other CCVs as we served together. Heading home Friday evening was bittersweet, but I looked forward to Sunday, when I’d once again go to the Bread of Life in Holy Communion. And that was the whole point of the conference: Whether you’re sitting in a pew next to your dad or in a folding chair next to your new best friend from Ohio, it’s all about Jesus feeding us His life-giving, sin-forgiving Body—the Bread of Life.

Molly Buffington is a member of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Cullman, Alabama, and is studying history at the University of Alabama.

Lydia Perling

You make new friends!

You might only see them once a year but when you make friends who know from the start that you’re Lutheran is fantastic.

The College Conference Volunteers

CCVs are always ready to help you find where you need to go or to give out high fives.

There is so much worship.

Every time you turn around there’s another opportunity to sing a hymn or hang out with a pastor.

You can geek out about hymns.

If you start singing a hymn, people will join in! You can even swap favorite hymns because everyone knows a few.

You learn more about the liturgy.

Going to worship once a week is good but going every few hours is amazing.

Jesus never gets out of your head.

As soon as you arrive at an HT conference, you’re immersed in Jesus until you depart.

You receive forgiveness of sins four times a day!

Your sins are forgiven every time you turn around.

You can ask any question and no one is going to tell you you’re too young for the answer.

At Higher Things there isn’t a huge divide between adults and teens—you can go to any of the breakaway sessions you want. Even when those sessions are about very adult things they’ve been tailor-made for you.

Even if you have some areas of disagreement, you still agree on the really important stuff.

You can have actual, intelligent conversations with people, even when you disagree with them because you both still have Jesus.

Private confession and absolution

Confession and absolution with your pastor or another pastor at the conference is possibly the best thing ever. Take advantage of that opportunity!

Lydia Perling is a member at St. Paul Des Pres, St Louis, Missouri.

Kate Olson

We who have had the immense pleasure of being College Conference Volunteers (CCVs) at a Higher Things Conference have been blessed by God to make some of our sweetest, most cherished memories and closest friends at those times. And oh…the pain of Friday afternoon at a Higher Things conference!

On Monday, everything is exciting. There is work to be done and new people to meet. It’s Higher Things! We are preparing to receive Christ the next day with hundreds of new siblings in Christ whom we’ve never met before. And boy, do we prepare! Unload the truck, inventory the merchandise, fold, stack, lift. Unpack big Jesus and little Jesus, hang them, hang the banners, dress the altar. Fill the bags and organize them into neat, lovely rows, like presents under a giant Christmas tree. The guests arrive tomorrow and because Christ loved us first, we are happier to prepare and to give to them more than we are to receive. Tour the campus so we are ready to lead, learn the technology so we can aid the teachers and Pastors. A CCV never complains because it’s Higher Things week and we couldn’t be more excited to see the chapel decked out in green and catch a glimpse of the hymns in the worship book. We hear things like, “That’s your favorite hymn too?!” and “We’re going to be best friends!” And yes, we probably will be.

Tuesday brings the guests! We are at our stations, ready to hand out the neatly lined bags with smiles on our faces-ready to direct traffic under a blazing hot sun. Finally, in the early afternoon, everyone has arrived. The ladies have helped prepare the elements and the gentlemen will usher. We’ve been waiting patiently, but anxiously, for the first hymn to begin. In all of its glory, the Gospel is declared and Christ Himself is received in the ears and on the lips. We are forgiven and ready for the rest of the week. Tuesday brings the first plenary, break-outs, walking, and please grab those waters! We move fast because pastors are anxious for their lessons to be well-prepared and we are more than happy to help them. Then the conference-goers find their places in a chair, on the floor, along the walls, and we have one simple, but important message for them: “DON’T FORGET YOUR EVALUATIONS!” Tuesday cannot end without an evening of fun. We set up, we help, we laugh a lot. Finally, we pray compline together, and over the next few days, we pray it again and again, creating perhaps the most memorable moments of this special week. And then it’s back to the dorms for a little sleep, but only after we unwind for just a few short…hours. And we think back to registration and it seems so long ago. Those new acquaintances from yesterday are old friends by now.

Wednesday morning is early. Grab some coffee and let’s get to work. The first thing to do is to organize the day. We divide up break-out sessions and tasks: Some of us will help at the information and merchandise table, someone might even help a lost pastor or two. We leave chapel early to help direct traffic and put up all of those break-out signs. We are always ahead of the crowd, always ready to lead. We hurry to the break-outs when our jobs are done and learn and receive and take notes. And all along the way to and from we talk and we share and we realize this is probably the best week of our lives. By Wednesday night we are exhausted but now we’ve had a chance to get to know not just a few but all of our fellow CCVs. We only go to bed once we’ve laughed until our sides ache. And then we calm down, and some of us go to bed-some do. Wednesday is the night for the long, wonderful, heart-to-heart conversations.

Thursday we sing our favorite hymns with even more fervor next to our bosom buddies who now know our struggles, our hopes, our pain and our joy. And we shed not a few tears because God’s Grace is so good in Christ and in our friends…well the girls do, anyway. And someone always says, “Guys, we’ve got to all be at the same conference next year.”

And so comes Friday. The closing Divine Service is bittersweet. We receive Christ’s Body and Blood with our sisters and brothers who have become so very special to us and with them we are forgiven. And we think of leaving in a few hours. But there isn’t time to be sad! Everything must be taken down, counted, organized, and packed. We keep working, we keep laughing, we keep hoping there is another task to prevent us from leaving just yet. But finally it is time.

We stay close for a while after the conference, but slowly life takes over again. And that conference becomes such a great memory but those details get blurry. And soon, it’s time for another conference and of course we can’t all be there. And another. And we haven’t seen each other in a few years. And then the beautiful part comes! We see one of our old CCV mates at a church we’re visiting or at another conference or wherever! And suddenly we’re talking as if we had just taken down the last parament. And that’s when we remember that we will always be together. For eternity. It doesn’t matter if it’s in this life or the next. We meet at the Altar together each Sunday, we hear the same Christ preached from the pulpit. We will be best friends, sisters and brothers, along with all believers in Christ, forever. And Christ is our host who prepares that “conference” and the rejoicing and singing will never end.

Kate Olson is a member of Mount Hope Lutheran Church in Casper, Wyoming, and teaches 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade at Mount Hope Lutheran School.

Rev. Eric Brown

When I was young, I made an etymological mistake. I had just joined the elementary school band, and the topic of tempos came up, and there it was: lento. This means to take it slow, at an unrushed tempo. Now, as this happened to have come up on a Wednesday just before a Lenten soup supper, ever since fourth grade Lent has been connected with lento in my mind. (Lent is actually from the old English word for spring: Lencten.)

However, I am prepared to claim that my mistake was a happy and fortunate one. All too often it seems as though folks want to treat Lent as a season of sorrow and gloom, as though we need to make ourselves miserable in order to let ourselves be happy come Easter. That’s just wrong. While Lent is a season of repentance, repentance isn’t about making yourself miserable, or trying to show how really, really, really sorry you are. I’d argue that quite a bit of repentance is more about slowing down.

Slow down a bit. Seriously. Just pause. If you’ve given up something for Lent – cool – put whatever you’ve given up for a bit to the side and pause. And now ponder, but ponder what? Should we ponder how terrible and horrid we are? Well, sure…a touch, but that’s not our main focus. Let us fix our eyes upon Jesus. Pause from your busy life, look at the Lenten texts, and just see what Jesus does for you.

The season of Lent is the time when we get to slow down a bit, step back, and watch Jesus just start to kick the tar out of Satan for our sake. He suffers temptations for us and knocks down Satan for us. He heals, He raises folks from the dead, He takes on false teachers, He provides for thousands. And as the culmination and high point of Lent, He even takes on death for us. And that’s pretty awesome, so it’s good to slow down and see it.

Maybe it might be good to think of Lent as that time of tension, where we are like runners on a line, tensed up, waiting for the starting gun of Easter when we can charge forward with great joy – spring forth, maybe. Of course, the “spring” of “Lencten” doesn’t mean that either (etymologists, please give up hate mail for lent). But, we will go out like calves leaping from the stalls, trampling the ashes under our feet (Malachi 4:2-3). Either way: Slow down a bit and see all the wondrous things that Jesus has done and continues to do for you, so that your Easter Joy may be loud and full!

Rev. Eric Brown serves as pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church in Herscher, Illinois.

David Pratt

Lent always sneaks up on me. This year it may be because Easter is fairly early, but I’m surprised by Lent more often than not. Maybe I just get caught up in the afterglow of Christmas. Maybe I feel like we’ve just celebrated some major events in the church year. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lenten hymns and soup suppers, but I mean the last few months have included all of Advent, Christmas, the Epiphany season including Jesus’ baptism, etc. Didn’t we just stop having services on Wednesday nights a couple of weeks ago? Maybe I’m just ready to take a step back and relax a little, to live in the peaceful, seemingly easy time after we celebrate our Lord’s birth.

And then Ash Wednesday comes and smacks me. Lent brings with it the reminder that the story doesn’t end with the manger and the Magi. It doesn’t end with the peace of the “silent night.” Lent nudges me toward the messy, toward the brutal, toward the cross. Lent reminds me that Christ was born to die. That He came to bear witness to the truth (John 18:37). That He came to seek and to save the lost (Luke 19:10). That He did not come to be served, but to serve and to give His life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). And those are all messy things.

Perhaps sometimes I fall into the same mindset as Peter on the mount of Transfiguration. Peter is so content and elated that Moses and Elijah are there with Jesus that he just wants to build everybody a tent and stay there. But on the way down the mountain Jesus reminds the disciples that His story doesn’t end on that mountain. He must first suffer and rise from the dead. Jesus keeps His focus locked in. Lent and the cross don’t sneak up on Jesus. His priorities are clear and He never wavers.

How wonderful it is that although we may lose our focus because of shallow contentment, or complacency, or simple forgetfulness that Christ never forgets about us. He went to the cross with you in mind. He paid the price for all your sins. He baptized you into Himself. He hears your prayers and comes to you in His Word. He gives you His own Body and Blood to comfort you. The time leading up to the cross may have been surprising to the disciples and Lent may sneak up on us sometimes, but the Lamb of God knew where He was going from the beginning of time: to die and to rise for you.

David Pratt teaches Theology at Faith Lutheran High School in Las Vegas, Nevada and is a member of Mountain View Lutheran Church.

Thomas Lemke

Christmas songs: Love ’em or hate ’em, you can’t get away from them. They are as ubiquitous in this season as candy canes, Christmas lights, and those silly reindeer decorations you put on your car. They are a cultural staple from Thanksgiving to December 25th.

As Christians who acknowledge “the reason for the season,” we have more cause to sing than most. The Incarnation of God the Son has been inspiring hymns since Mary was told of her role in His coming. In fact, in a display of Christmas spirit that puts Buddy the Elf to shame, the Gospel writer Luke records no less than three such hymns – namely from the lips of Mary, Zechariah, and Simeon.

Not to be outdone, Scripture records that Paul was big on hymnody as well, even singing with Silas in prison. You can bet there were songs we would consider Christmas hymns in their set, such as the Carmen Christi, recorded in Philippians 2, which features the line: “…Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” If that doesn’t fill your heart with Christmas cheer, you’ve been spending too much time with the Grinch.

So this Christmas, in between covers of Last Christmas, harken your ears to the sounds of Christmas 2,000 years ago, which reverberate through time to us in the form of countless hymns written and sung through the ages. And as you do, pay attention to the shadow of the cross in the background, cast by the light of resurrection unto eternal life. In other words, the work of God for our salvation.

That’s truly something to sing about.

Thomas Lemke is a member at Trinity Lutheran Church in Norman, Oklahoma. He is also cohost of the Higher Things® podcast – Gospeled Boldly.

Rev. Harrison Goodman

The virgin birth has been a joke since God first told us about it. The Lord foretold it to Ahaz, a king so evil he could legitimately tell the average comic book super-villain to get on his level. When he heard it, he just rolled his eyes. “Surely, I will not put the Lord to the test. I need no signs from you.”

It’s been the go-to one-liner ever since. If you ever want to roll your eyes just like Ahaz, just mention something about how Christians are dumb enough to believe in a religion that centers around a girl who got pregnant and lied about how it happened. It’s absurd how quick people are to impugn Mary’s dignity to preserve their own. They call her a liar and a slut so they can hide from guilt and keep doing what they do. That way they can tell themselves that there’s no God to judge them for their sins, and no reason to feel guilty. They’ll tell you that folks can still give gifts on Christmas. We can still spend time together. There better still be cookies, but they know better than to believe the virgin birth. “Surely, I will not put the Lord to the test. I need no signs from you.”

On the other hand, we believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is our Lord. We know the real reason for the season. But we’ve heard the same joke told so many times in so many ways that it’s enough get under our skin.

That anger at those people who mock our beliefs mixes with the shame we hide deep down for secretly questioning the whole thing ourselves more than once. It mixes together into something all too familiar this time of year. This monster, mysteriously fully anger and yet fully shame, lets us feel better about the nice clean line we draw between us and them. It tells us we don’t have to empathize with anyone who doesn’t believe like us. It says we don’t have to care. This thing grows and feeds on us and tells us that anyone who doesn’t share our beliefs must be the enemy. Never mind that we wrestle with the same unbelief more often than we want to admit.

So we give this thing a name, The War on Christmas. The War on Christmas wakes up around Halloween and shambles out of its cave looking for arguments about mangers and carols. And now we’re so quick battle over the War on Christmas that red cups make headlines whether anyone’s actually upset or not.

You can argue over whose fault it is. You can smugly say “Merry Christmas” to anyone audacious enough to wish you happy holidays. You can paint anyone who doesn’t believe like you believe into a corner with Ahaz and Hitler and Dr. Doom, and then write them off as less than you. But you should know God doesn’t. He has a different name for The War on Christmas. He just calls it sin. Then He reminds us what He does with sin. He forgives it. He reminds us that the virgin birth was for sinners.

The virgin birth was a sign for Ahaz. The Lord said to Ahaz, that evil king who probably would have liked the Starbucks cup with no snowflakes, “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel (Isaiah 7:14).” Immanuel means God with us. This God promised Ahaz—an evil, sinful, monster of a human being—that He would love him and make His home with him. He would even be born Ahaz’s line and lineage.

Immanuel means God empathizes with sinners, even when sinners have a hard time with empathy. We don’t want to see our enemy as like us. We don’t want to feel as they feel. We don’t want to be the same kind of human they are. But all of this is addressed by God who does empathize, who comes down from heaven to feel what we feel, to be the same kind of human we are. He is fully God, yet becomes fully man to know the weight of our War on Christmas, the anger, the fear, the shame, and to call it by its real name. Sin. Then He does something about it. This Immanuel was called Jesus, who would save His people from their sins.

So Jesus took the War on Christmas, and every other sin we have fancy names for, all the way to the cross and paid for them. It wasn’t with gold or silver but with His holy, precious blood and His innocent suffering and death, that we sinners would be His own and live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, just as He is risen from the dead, lives and reigns to all eternity.

All of this language comes to a head on Christmas morning, for to us a child is born, to us a Son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called, among other incredible things, the Prince of Peace. Christmas means the Prince of Peace is born. The Prince of Peace, laid in a manger, will usher in His Kingdom of Peace by His death and resurrection.

The Angels who sang of His birth to shepherds in the fields sang “Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!” Peace. Your sin is died for, and so removed, as far as the east is from the west. This peace is for shepherds, and sinners, and Ahaz, and even you. There is no war on Christmas. Only Peace. Christ atoned for that sin and every other and removed it. You are forgiven. God is pleased with you. We live in His peace, finding forgiveness for our sins and comfort in the fact that God’s love is so powerful that it takes on flesh and comes down to bear us sinners unto life everlasting.

As for Mary, blessed is she amongst women. God knew what she would be called, and named her blessed among women for it. She is the butt of the joke that birthed salvation for us sinners. She is the Mother of God, the blessed Virgin, mother of the Prince of Peace. This peace is as real as the God-child she bore and named Jesus. There is no war on Christmas.

Rev. Harrison Goodman serves as pastor at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Carroll, Nebraska.

Rev. Andrew Ratcliffe

In that day the Lord with His severe sword, great and strong, Will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan that twisted serpent; And He will slay the reptile that is in the sea. – Isaiah 27:1

The Leviathan-while perhaps not the great sea monster or dinosaur-like creature from Job-might easily be seen as a great dragon, fierce and breathing the fires of hell. Many interpret this image, this passage as referring to the devil, the prince of the world, the one who, according to Matthew 25, is destined for the eternal, unquenchable lake of fire.

In Luther’s morning and evening prayer he invites us to approach our heavenly Father, asking that, through the guard of His angels, the Wicked and Evil Foe would have no power over us. While the devil and his evil is always at work in the chaos around us, Luther looks at this reference to Leviathan and sees an historical reference in the lives of God’s people. He writes, “It seems to me the prophet is speaking about the kings of Syria, of the Egyptians and others.” Depending on the point in history, the Egyptians, the Assyrians and the Babylonians are all a sort of Leviathan as they devoured other nations, subjecting them to their rule and assimilating them into their cultures, practices, and beliefs.

Regardless of what, or who, this Leviathan is, Isaiah 27 comes with a promise. The inevitable outcome is that the Lord, our Lord, with His hard, great and strong sword, will slay Leviathan-the dragon that is in the sea. Historically we might note that Roman rule was swift to use the sword, and they ushered in a peace throughout the world, as they subjected kingdoms to their rule. Yet everything will be made subject to Christ and His rule, and then, in turn, to God who is our Father (The Lutheran Study Bible, 1131). It is the Lord, our Lord, who controls, restrains, and ultimately defeats evil.

And so we turn toward the tragic events in Paris. With 129 confirmed dead, 352 others injured, and 99 in critical condition, it appears that at least two attackers came to France as Syrian refugees. Although the opportunity to save lives and to witness the Gospel has grown exponentially through this immigration, the work of ISIS in France over the weekend is certainly comparable to the dominating, threatening and frightening efforts of those empires, like Egypt and Rome, that have advanced against God’s people and against the world in the times such as what Isaiah highlights. ISIS certainly qualifies as a leviathan.

But the picture Isaiah gives is not one of impending doom or ensuing chaos. His news report doesn’t dwell on the terror these attacks are meant to cause. Instead of death, there is life. Instead of fright, there is faith. Instead of destruction, there is deliverance. “In that day, ‘A pleasant vineyard, sing of it! I, the LORD, and its keeper… Would that I had thorns and briers to battle! I would march against them, I would burn them up together… Or let them make peace with me'” (Isaiah 27:2, 4-5).

Of this promise Luther writes, “It is as if [God] were saying, ‘My Christian is indeed in difficulties, but I will go to war and battle for him and defend him. Therefore he [must believe]… much more that I am a waterer and defender and that a ‘bruised reed I will not break, and a dimly burning wick I will not quench.” Therefore with these words He… comforts His own, so that they might take refuge with Him in all tribulations.” Do not despair! Do not be tempted to believe that Christ is not able to preserve us! Again Luther writes, “It is as if He were saying, ‘Let no one despair of Me, but let him have peace in Me, though in the world he may have distress. I want peace.'” Thus the Jesus’ words in John 14:27, “Peace I leave you; My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

Isaiah says to us, to you, “Be at peace.” Isaiah announces to us, to you, “You have peace.” We are reminded of this peace each Sunday in the “peace be with you,” of the forgiveness of sins. It’s the “peace that passes all understanding” that we receive from His Word. It’s the “depart in peace” having received His very body and blood in His meal. It’s the peace secured, sealed and delivered when sin, death and the devil were defeated at Calvary. Colossians 1:20 declares this victory, your victory, “And through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.”

In light of something as terrible and tragic as what Paris faced, there is the bittersweet reality that those who reject God and His grace will face the consequences. There is a day of reckoning. But on that Day the Lord will gather all His people to Himself. He has planted His vineyard: you. He waters and cares for, forgives, sustains and strengthens His vineyard, you. He produces faith and fruit in His vineyard: you. And you, His vineyard, grow from your connection to the vine, which is Christ. Through Him, Jesus, your guilt, your doubt, your fear, your sin has been atoned for, removed and put away. His sword, the Word, defeats all that intends to frighten, threaten and destroy, for on the cross of Christ He has been victorious. And His Word, a double-edged sword, also uplifts, gives life, and life that you have to the full.

Not a serpent, but a Savior. Not ISIS or crisis, but a cross and His care. Through Isaiah, God says, “Let them make peace with Me.” Jesus says, “You have peace, because of Me.” In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Almighty, everlasting God, through Your only Son, our blessed Lord, You commanded us to love our enemies, to do good to those who hate us, and to pray for those who persecute us. Therefore, we earnestly implore You that by Your gracious working our enemies may be led to true repentance, may have the same love toward us as we have toward them, and may be of one accord and of one mind and heart with us and with Your whole Church; through Jesus Christ, our Lord. (Collect for Our Enemies, from Lutheran Service Book)

Rev. Andrew Ratcliffe is Pastor for Christian Nurture at St. John’s Lutheran Church, Seward, Nebraska.