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Current Events

October 31: The No-Trick-All-Treat Celebration of the Reformation

Rev. Brandt Hoffman

Do you want to hear a scary story? That’s a good question for this time of year. As we get closer to October 31, many Americans will celebrate by dressing up as Batman, Wonder Woman, a ghost, a witch or even a zombie.

They will spend their evening walking from house to house, saying “TRICK OR TREAT” and then collect candy from their neighbors. Later they might sit around the house and watch some sort of horror movie. That’s the fun with Halloween. The monsters aren’t real, the ghosts aren’t real, none of that scary stuff is real, except, thankfully, for the candy.

As Lutherans, we have another perspective on October 31. For us it is remembering the day in 1517 that Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the church door in Wittenberg, Germany. This is when Lutherans celebrate the beginning of the Reformation. Back then, they dealt with some very scary monsters indeed—unholy monsters that sought to devour the Christian Church on earth. Monsters that brought suffering and pain and left nothing but spiritual death in their wake.

At a time when the Christian Church was struggling with who we are and what we do, the Reformation was focused on delivering Christians out of fear and death, and delivering them over to the comfort and salvation of the Gospel in both Word and Sacrament, because the most frightening thing in the world is a Christian who believes he or she has no hope.

So this year, as we celebrate Reformation Sunday (October 30th this year), I hope you see it as a joyous day! On the day that began the restoration of so many good things in Christ’s Church, I hope it is a reminder of the gift we have in our Lutheran heritage of being strengthened by God’s good promises of forgiveness, life and salvation. God bless your Reformation Day, and watch out for the little goblins and ghouls roaming around your neighborhood on the 31st.

Rev. Brandt Hoffman is the Pastor and School Administrator at Christ Lutheran Church and School in Coos Bay, Oregon.

Categories
Life Issues

Praying for Your Front-Line Pastor

Rev. Duane Bamsch

There are far too many people who seem to think that their faithful pastors are shrinking violets or spineless buffoons who are unable (or even unwilling) to hear of your demons and sins. Perhaps you fear that we cannot handle the rawness and reality of your failings. It may help to remember that we pastors spend every single day in hand-to-hand combat with Satan himself and his demons. St. Paul even gives us a reminder: “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12 ESV).

There are no medals for the clergy. No “welcome home” parades after a difficult fight in enemy territory. Nor do we seek such things. Our deep wounds aren’t seen in slings or scars, crutches or prosthetics.

All too often we hear that a brother pastor has fallen to the lure of Satan, or that despair has taken another, or that persecution is about to overrun yet another faithful servant of Christ and his family. Even so, we readily and willingly gird ourselves with the full armor of God for another day of confronting the evil Satan that hurls your way.

We take up the most wondrous and most powerful weapon on earth—the very Body and Blood of Christ in our Communion Kit. This is the Bread of Life come down from heaven, which we eat so that we may not die, given for you for the forgiveness of sins, and armed thus we plunge into the gaping maw of death for another day of the care of souls.

In your moment of need, your pastor will not shun you. He will not shake his head at your sin and failure. He will not call your parents or friends and tattle on you. He will unflinchingly stand by your side even as the evil one drops his mightiest artillery on your position.

Your pastor will warn you of the dangers of unrepentance and unbelief, of turning to the gods of this world and betraying your baptism for fleeting pleasure. All the while he laments that eternity separates those who flee Christ their Savior in order to willfully shape gods of their own making. For this, he loses sleep and is stressed over the likelihood that those he loves and serves will attack him because they don’t want to hear the admonition of their Lord.

Yes, the pay is awful. There aren’t enough hours in the day. The phone never stops ringing. Pastors miss their children’s birthday parties or recitals. They receive absolutely devastating and gutting news far too often. They are cursed and despised, just as our Lord Christ was.

These are the consequences of your pastor taking up the cross, of having the Lord’s hands laid upon him so that he may deliver to you—the saints of God—what was once delivered to him: the very Bread of Life, which brings life, forgiveness, and salvation to all who believe.

He will have moments of rest and respite: a short vacation here, a getaway or retreat there. Three days with no cell coverage never seemed so wonderful! Yet, vacation is just that—a temporary sabbatical from the endless assaults of the evil one.

So, please pray for your pastor. When he seems to be a bit “off” or not quite on task, he may have gotten a terrible phone call, he may not have slept much after trying to finish a sermon that was delayed because of a hospital call that turned into the Commendation of the Dying, or he may even be worried sick over a parishioner who has left the faith.

At your youth group gatherings, remember your pastor in your prayers, too. When you see him during the week, or even on Sunday, ask him how you can pray for him and what kinds of prayers he needs. In between bringing you God’s good gifts of Word and Sacrament, he prays for you constantly; he will never say it, but he appreciates your prayers for him more than you will ever know.

Pastors, if you’re reading this, remember your baptism—in which death and Satan lost their grip on you. Hold high the Crucified Christ for those in your charge—He who is the Author of Life. Proclaim the life-giving Word of God—speak with the same voice that spoke from Mt. Sinai, the burning bush, and the Risen Christ. Give those who need and desire it the Medicine of Immortality—the very antidote to death. And take comfort in the knowledge that there are those who lift you up in their petitions and prayers.

As a brother pastor once prayed, so also you may pray for your own pastor: Holy Father, as Your Son and His blessed apostles cast out demons in Galilee and Judea and beyond by Your Holy Spirit, so remove from our pastor that demon called Despair by Your Word and Spirit, that he might not be tempted to unbelief but would be strengthened by the witness of Your Spirit through the mysteries You have provided, calling us little children and granting us the life and kingdom of Your eternal Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Rev. Duane Bamsch is the pastor of Zion Lutheran Church and School in Terra Bella, California. He also serves the vice president of the Board of Directors for Higher Things.

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 9

Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther’s move to Wittenberg did not lighten his workload at all. In fact, if anything, after he received his special license that made him a candidate for the doctorate in 1512, Luther’s life became so busy he barely had time to sleep.

“I could use two secretaries,” Luther wrote, “I do almost nothing during the day but write letters… I am a preacher at the monetary, a reader at meals, a parish preacher, director of studies, supervisor of eleven monasteries, superintendent of the fish pond at Litzkau, referee of a squabble at Torgau, lecturer on Paul, a collector of materials for a commentary on the Psalms, and then, as I said, I am overwhelmed with letters. I rarely have time for the required daily prayers and saying mass, not to mention my own temptations with the world, the flesh, and the devil. You see how lazy I am.”

Still, the old nagging questions hung onto him. Martin was still in search of a merciful God. As “lazy” as he imagined himself to be, or not, Luther’s studies and teaching led him deeper into Scripture. He searched, and wrote, and lectured, and preached like a man on his hands and knees crawling through the valley of the shadow of death. He hunted God through the Bible, specifically the Old Testament, which was where his particular theological expertise lay.

This is why, as Luther later said, “I did not learn my theology all at once, but had to search deeper for it, where my temptations took me.”

During his early years as a lecturer Luther taught the book of Genesis (1512), the Psalms (1513-15151), Romans (1515-1516), Galatians (1516-1517), Hebrews (1517-1518), and again the Psalms (1518-1521).

And through them all, Luther was hunting for God’s mercy. He chased after “the righteousness of God,” to understand what “righteousness” meant. As Luther said years later, “I hated that word [at Romans 1:17], ‘the righteousness of God,’ which, according to the custom and the use of teachers, I had been taught to understand in the philosophical sense with respect to the formal or active righteousness, as they called it, with which God is righteous and punishes the unrighteous sinner.”

“Though I lived as a monk without reproach,” he said, “I felt, with the most disturbed conscience imaginable, that I was a sinner before God. I did not love, indeed I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners and secretly (if not blasphemously and certainly with great grumbling) I was angry with God, and said, “As if indeed it is not enough that miserable sinners, eternally lost through eternal sin, are crushed by every kind of calamity by the law of the Ten Commandments, without having God add pain to pain by the gospel and also by the gospel’s threatening us with his righteousness and wrath!”

This is why he had been taught, and continued to teach in his early lectures, that when St. Paul wrote that “the righteous live by faith,” Luther had to be righteous to be given and keep faith. Martin did not care how sinners come to God. He was only interested in how a Christian can live with a God whose demand for righteousness can never be satisfied.

God was righteous and holy. Martin Luther was not. And the Gospel, no matter how many times he heard it, taught it, or preached it, gave his heart no rest. Luther heard the Gospel, but the question stuck in his mind: “How can I ‘live by faith?'”

Next time, we will look at Luther’s biblical lectures and how these lectures led him to the discovery that changed not just the Christian Church, but the world.

Rev. Donavon Riley serves as pastor at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

Categories
Catechesis

Illuminating the Paschal Candle

Rev. Michael Keith

So, you know that candle that is in the church that is on a stand? It is often found near the baptismal font or the altar—but not always. It’s called the Paschal candle. Have you ever wondered why the Paschal candle is lit on some Sundays and on some occasions, but not on others? C’mon…you know you have!

Now, the truth is that when we begin talking about candles in the church and the meaning behind them it can be a messy business. Quite frankly, there seem to be as many meanings and traditions associated with candles as there are stars in the night sky. So, this is not so much about what is “right” and “wrong” when it comes to the understanding of candles in the church—the Paschal candle in particular. However, here is how the Paschal candle is often used in the Lutheran church.

We will begin with the Easter season. Many congregations bless a new Paschal candle each year at Easter. At the Easter Vigil or on Easter Sunday the Paschal candle is lit. It represents the resurrected Jesus among His people. That is why the Paschal candle is lit through the Season of Easter up to Ascension Day. On Ascension Day the candle is often removed from the church after the Gospel reading or simply extinguished.

The Paschal candle is also lit when there is a baptism. The use of the Paschal candle at a baptism visually reminds us of the connection between this sacrament and the resurrection of our Lord. Jesus is at work through the waters of Holy Baptism distributing the fruits of the cross and resurrection. We are reminded that through Jesus’ Word and promises in Holy Baptism we are raised to new life.

In a similar way the Paschal candle is used at a funeral. When we see the Paschal candle lit and standing near the head of the casket we are reminded that this one is a baptized child of God. We are also reminded of St. Paul’s words in Romans 6:3-5: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”

There is a wonderful “bookending” that happens here as the candle is lit at baptism and at the funeral—a reminder that from beginning to end our Lord Jesus is with us—in our coming in and our going out from this time forth and even forevermore. Jesus is with you through all your life: the good, the bad and the ugly. He is with you through your death. He is with you to carry you to eternal life.

The symbolism behind the use of the Paschal candle can be helpful and encouraging to us. It draws us to remember our resurrected Lord Jesus and His defeat of sin, death, and the devil for us. It helps us to remember that we have received all that Jesus has to give in our baptism. We can draw comfort and strength when we see the Paschal candle lit at a funeral—knowing that this one has died to sin and has been raised to new life in Jesus.

Now, I know there will be people who will say: “That’s not what we do at our congregation!” Or, “That’s not how I understand the Paschal candle!” Or, “We light our Paschal candle every Sunday!” Okay. Keep on keepin’ on. Stars in the night sky and all that. Don’t freak out. This is just one of the more common explanations of the meaning behind the use of the Paschal candle. No matter how it is used in your congregation, it should remind you that Jesus has lived, died on the cross, and risen from the dead for you—that you have been washed in the waters of Holy Baptism and that Jesus has defeated sin, death and the devil for you, granting you new life—eternal life.

Rev. Michael Keith serves as pastor at St. Matthew Lutheran Church and SML Christian Academy in Stony Plain, Alberta, Canada. He can be reached at keith@st-matthew.com

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 8

By Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther’s time in the monastery, all his study and work, all his searching for a merciful God, kept leading him back to the same point: If he wanted to enter into eternal life he needed to make sure he was always leaning toward heaven.

It didn’t matter if he was praying, or scrubbing floors, or just out for a walk, Luther was taught by every authority in the church, that if he just did his best, God would show him grace. But, only if the young monk did his best.

As Luther later said, when he thought back about this time in the monastery, “I Iost hold of Christ the Savior and comforter and made him a stick-master and hangman over my poor soul.”

There was not anything during those early years that shows us Luther was going to bust loose from what the church of his day believed and confessed as the truth about God, salvation, and so on. In fact, young Martin pretty much went along with what he was taught, even after he began to teach at university. He lived the way he was expected to live. He taught what he was expected to teach. He was, by most everybody’s opinion, a good and faithful monk.

Even his trip to Rome in 1510 did not change his attitude toward the faith of the Church. Near his 27th birthday, Luther was sent by his order to Rome in the hope that someone higher up, with more authority in the Church, could settle some political infighting that was happening amongst the monastic orders.

Luther and one other monk walked to Rome in the winter of that year—yes, they walked to Rome, over the Alps, in the winter!—as representatives of their order. Even though Luther expected to find a Rome (and a pope) that represented an example of faith, hope, and charity for the whole Church, what he found was something different.

First, the pope was not even in the city when Luther was there. Second, Rome was not a clean city. Garbage and sewage were dumped into the gutters. Wealthy people, especially women, avoided walking on the streets, mostly because they were under constant threat of being mugged. Third, Luther wanted to say a Mass at one of the little chapels that were everywhere in Rome at the time, but they were so jammed with priests wanting to do the same, that when he got his turn at an altar another priest behind him kept saying, “Hurry up! Hurry up!” the whole time. All in all, his experience in Rome was so bad that Luther, when he returned to Wittenberg, said that Romans were no better than dogs.

Still, he was able to overlook the poor conditions of the city and the overall miserable piety of the clergy he saw there, that as he later said, Luther “was so drunk… submerged in the Pope’s dogmas that I would have been ready to murder all… who take but a syllable from the obedience to the pope.” Life in Rome may not have been what Luther expected, but his hope in the Church and God’s grace were there for him, even if they were hidden and had to be hunted up.

When the young monk got back to Erfurt, and it was determined that what Rome had decided about their infighting was unacceptable, monks took sides. That is why, in the end, Luther and his friend Johannes Lang, were more or less pushed out of the monastery and sent into exile, to live at the monastery in Wittenberg, the “Black Cloister,” with their superior and friend in the Augustinian order, Johann von Staupitz.

Next time, we will look at what kind of city Wittenberg was in 1511, and what happened to Luther when he arrived.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota. 

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 7

Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther was now living with fifty other monks at the Augustinian monastery at Erfurt. Along with the regular monastic observances that occupied his time, “Brother Martinus,” as he was now called, spent much of his day sweeping and cleaning. Little time was left to him to continue his studies or pursue his questions about where he might find a merciful God.

But, at the same time, the new vicar general of the Erfurt monastery, Johann von Staupitiz, learned from others of Luther’s interest in biblical studies. After speaking to the young monk, Staupitz persuaded the monastery’s prior to give Luther a new job that would set him to the work of memorizing the Bible. Luther was now expected to learn the Bible, and be able to recite every page, from heart. Luther did this and impressed Staupitz so much that his career path as a professor of theology was practically certain.

However, before that could happen, and not even a year after he had entered the monastery, Brother Martinus was ordained into the priesthood. On April 3, 1507 (possibly on Easter Saturday) Luther was ordained. One month later, on May 2, he celebrated his first Mass at the Augustinian church.

By Luther’s own words, it was a difficult thing for him, that first Mass. As he later said while lecturing about Isaac’s prayer in the book of Genesis:

“‘And Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren: and the Lord answered his prayer'” (Genesis 25:21). A prayer like this, which breaks through the clouds and reaches up to the majesty of God, is not easy. I, ashes, dust, and full of sin, speak with the living, eternally true God. This cannot but cause one to tremble, as did I when I celebrated the Mass… joyous faith, however, which rests on the mercy and the Word of God overcomes the fear of his majesty…and rises boldly above it.”

By 1507, Luther was on his way to becoming a Master of Theology, under the watchful eye of his professor, Johannes Nathin. By April 1508, Martin was scheduled to lecture. At Wittenberg, Staupitz set Luther to lecturing on Aristotle’s “Ethics” for the winter semester. Luther also prepared to receive his doctorate in theology at that time. In the autumn of 1509, he was called back to Erfurt to lecture, too. But that lasted only three-quarters of a year. Soon enough, Luther was called back to Wittenberg as a member of the theological faculty.

The next several years were critical for Luther as a monk and theologian. Church politics, the testing of personal allegiances, and a visit to Rome changed everything for him.

Next week we will look at just what happened to Martin that eventually resulted in his reformation breakthrough.

Note: If you’ve enjoyed these articles and want to know more about Martin Luther, I’ve been following the work of the remarkable Luther scholar, Heidi Obermann, in his book: Luther: Man Between God and The Devil. Also, in the weeks and months that follow I will introduce you, the reader, to other works by Luther scholars that I believe will help deepen your knowledge and appreciation for Luther’s life and work. Enjoy!

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota. He is also the online content manager for Higher Things.

Categories
Catechesis

St. Michael and All Angels

Rev. Eric Brown

“And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.” – Revelation 12:11

You don’t have to look very hard to find Lutherans debating. I think it’s almost a Lutheran hobby. Get a couple of pastors together, toss out an idea, and you might very well have a perpetual motion machine. What can really get folks going is a debate that doesn’t have a clear answer. One of those debates is centered on this part of the year: Who is Saint Michael?

 Now, you have some who will say that Michael is the highest archangel and those who will say that Michael is actually Jesus (as Michael means “One who is like God”). And if you sit back you can watch folks go at it, back and forth. What’s the answer? Well, beats the tar out of me. I simply don’t know.

Now, this isn’t me dodging debate—it’s just that this is one of those debates where I don’t have a strong position, so I don’t get mixed up in it. However, not having a strong position does let one step back a bit and see other things—things that might even be more important. Take, for example, this beautiful and clear verse from Revelation.

In the second lesson for St. Michael’s, we hear the defeat of Satan; Satan is cast out of heaven. And Satan is described as our accuser—the one who accuses us before God—who points out our sin before God. And yet in verse 11, Satan is conquered. Indeed, we are included in those who have defeated Satan. Yet how? Certainly not by our own strength. And definitely not by how wonderful we think we are. Not even by how skillfully we debate.

”And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb.” It’s all about Jesus, who shed His blood for you and for me. All together we are covered by His blood which He shed to atone for our sin—which He shed to cover us and protect us from the accusations Satan hurls against us.

Christ’s death is more important than our lives. His death covers the entirety of this life, and we are viewed by God, not on the basis of who we are or what we’ve done, but by what Christ Jesus the Righteous One has done for us. In Him, we conquer. Christ’s victory is our victory, because in Holy Baptism He clothed you in the robes of His own righteousness, and all that is His is now yours.

When God sees you, He sees Christ; He sees you righteous and holy and perfect and wondrous. While still in this life, we struggle against sin, and the accusations that are leveled against us often do hit home, but we are righteous in Christ, and come the Last Day, when He returns and we are raised to new life in Him, we will be fully like Him, and you, too, will be one who is like Christ our Lord forever and all eternity. Hence we pray, come quickly, Lord Jesus! Amen.

Rev. Eric Brown is pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in Herscher, Illinois.

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 6

Rev. Donavon Riley

Later in life, Martin Luther remarked that he had entered the monastery in search of a gracious God. He was driven, he said, “by trembling and fidgeting.” He was worried, after two near-death experiences, that God would not allow him to enter into Paradise.

Reflecting on his time in the monastery, Martin said, “I did not think about women, money, or possessions; instead my heart trembled and fidgeted about whether God would bestow his grace on me… for I had strayed from faith and could not but imagine that I had angered God, whom I in turn had to appease by doing good works.”

Luther was taught that his sanctification, his holiness in relation to God, came by works. On the one hand, all monks believed their entry into a monastic life was a divine call and they had been ushered into the monastery by God’s grace. On the other hand, they believed if they didn’t fight the good fight of faith they would never achieve the prize of forgiveness, life, and eternal salvation. For Luther, and all monks, grace was both gift and obligation.

But Luther was also taught it was not his responsibility to walk alone into the Last Judgment. On the way, he would receive help from the Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary and St. Augustine, and other saints. All of them who had gone ahead of Luther into heavenly glory were always ready to help him in his fight against temptation, sin, and the devil. The only question for him was, “Will you accept their offer and rely on them to direct you to your final, heavenly goal?”

It wasn’t until later, after he’d been shown the Gospel, that Luther recognized the devil’s pre-occupation with good works. But, for Martin, the devil, by attacking him in this way, had actually helped the young monk to rediscover the Gospel. Luther said, “I became a monk by driving my head through the wall: against the will of my father, my mother, of God, and of the devil.”

This “driving his head through the wall,” for Luther, is what eventually caused him to collide with the practice of selling indulgences. Also, after wearing the monk’s cowl for fifteen years, Martin was prepared to speak knowledgeably and articulately about life for a generation of monks and nuns. As he was drawn closer and closer to Gospel freedom, the burden placed on himself and his fellow monastics became an unbearable weight. It broke his back, and caused him to cry out, not to St. Anne this time, but to God, and in that he received the answer he had long searched for: good news about a merciful God—a God who was for him and was the One who led him to confess: “Christ is different than Moses, the pope, and the whole world. He is not just different, he is far more than our conscience…When the conscience attacks you, he says, ‘Believe!'”

Next time, we will look more at Luther’s life in the monastery, his trip to Rome, and his increasing conflict with the sale of indulgences.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

Categories
Life Issues

If You Believe, Why Aren’t You Better?

Rev. Harrison Goodman

Cutters see something most of us try very hard to ignore. Sin has to be paid for in blood. It’s always been that way. For all the platitudes we spout to people who self-harm, they still see through to that truth. Christ knew it, too. So He bled and died for the sins of the world. It doesn’t need to be your blood. Christ already spilled His for you. At least, that’s what I told Tom. He found comfort in it for about a day and a half. Then he cut again.

He told me later. His shame was so heavy his head was bowed. Maybe he figured if I couldn’t look into his eyes I wouldn’t see the real issue: fear. It didn’t work. “I believe this stuff, but I’m not better. Why?”

So I laid my hand on his head. I spoke the only words I had that could help. “In the stead and by the command of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, I forgive you this and all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

It’s too easy to read this as a story about failure. We’re taught faith alone saves us. It’s just that sometimes we forget what faith looks like. For some reason we usually try to paint a picture of it with the Law. If you really believed, you’d behave. If you really believed, you’d be better. That changes how we expect to deal with God. If we can just be better, it stops being about us needing Him after we believe. After that, we should be doing stuff for Him.

Except, Jesus tells some people “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matthew 9:13). Those people aren’t unbelievers. Why would they sacrifice to what they don’t believe in? This is for us sinners. Mercy. Not sacrifice. We don’t measure faith by the sacrifices we make. We measure it by the mercy given to us. The Law can’t name us Christian. Only the Gospel can do that. Tom isn’t a Christian because he behaves. He’s a Christian because he has received mercy from Christ.

Don’t get me wrong. I wish Tom didn’t cut. I hate knowing he hurts that much. It would be better if he didn’t. But this goes deeper than the razorblade. Underneath the symptoms he wears on his arms, there is a condition we call sin. That’s what needs to be fixed. Only mercy can fix sin. Not sacrifice. The condition won’t go away by sacrificing in abstaining from something we want to do. The condition won’t go away by sacrificing in cutting our bodies. Help comes from mercy, not sacrifice.

That help isn’t measured in your success or failure any more than the blood paid for sins is measured in what you spill from your arms and stomach. It’s measured in Christ. All of it. “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” He bled and died. He gives mercy.

Are you done needing Jesus? The short answer is no. Our Catechism gives us the long answer. Christian life is being united with Jesus in His death and His resurrection every single day. Christian life is baptism. Baptism indicates that the Old Adam in us should by daily contrition and repentance be drowned and die with all sins and evil desires, and that a new man should daily emerge and arise to live before God in righteousness and purity forever. “Better” isn’t measured in us conquering our sins on our own. It’s measured in Jesus’ innocent suffering and death that saves us. That never changes.

The only off switch for sin is death. So Christ died. In your baptism, you will too. Every single day. Jesus says, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” Just mercy. It’s not your job to conquer sin on your own. It never will be. It’s Christ’s job. “Better” comes from where Christ promises to work. All of them are easy to overlook. Baptism is just water and God’s Word. It still raises us from death every single day.

The one we really struggle with, though, is the idea of vocation. That God actually works through sinners to accomplish things. God actually preaches through sinful pastors. God actually loves through sinful parents. God actually heals through sinful doctors. God works through sinners, even sinners who don’t always do their job perfectly. God is so committed to this that He works through them for good anyway. He’s promised to do so. It rarely looks all that impressive, but that’s okay. Jesus was pretty unassuming, too. He still conquered sin, death, and the power of the devil by His death upon the cross and then He rose from the dead. Unassuming isn’t so bad.

Tom felt so burdened that he cut into his own flesh. So Christ drowned that sinner in the water of his baptism, to raise him up in righteousness and purity. Tom received absolution. Tom talked to his parents. They didn’t deal with it perfectly, but God worked through them anyway, and even forgave them, too. Tom started to get help. Better wasn’t found in a pledge he made. Better wasn’t found in a single moment in time. Better was found in Christ. Better is delivered in all the ways Christ works, every day, until we finally see the fullness of what better looks like in the resurrection.

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

Categories
Catechesis

New Obedience

Rev. Jacob Ehrhard

Wait a second. If I can be forgiven simply by believing in Jesus, then…I can do anything I want! Get out of jail free card. In fact, the more I sin, the more I can get forgiven. Best. Religion. Ever. To celebrate, let’s tweet some nasty stuff about that awkward girl in study hall, then tonight go steal some liquor from the store and get drunk, and then tomorrow see if we can start a fight at lunch. Because, forgiven!

Not so fast. That’s not exactly how it works. Yes, we are forgiven for the sake of Christ; yes we are justified, or declared to be right before God, by faith in Him. This is done without respect to works, and all sins are covered by Christ’s all-atoning sacrifice on the cross and the blood that He shed. But it’s not the end of the story. In fact, it’s just the beginning for the Christian.

Our churches teach that this faith is bound to bring forth good fruit. It is necessary to do good works commanded by God, because of God’s will. We should not rely on those works to merit justification before God. The forgiveness of sins and justification is received through faith. The voice of Christ testifies, “So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty'” (Luke 17:10). The Fathers teach the same thing. Ambrose says, “It is ordained of God that he who believes in Christ is saved, freely receiving forgiveness of sins, without works, through faith alone.” (Augsburg Confession, article VI).

Faith is followed by fruit. And not just any fruit, but those that are commanded by God and are done according to His will. These works are informed by the Ten Commandments. But just because a work agrees with God’s command doesn’t necessarily make it a good work. Even the heathen can perform outward, civil works of the Law to some degree. There is something that sets apart a good work of this new obedience from every other work.

Take, for example, the first sons of the first parents—Cain and Abel. Both brought sacrifices to God; both performed the outward act. But Cain’s offering was rejected while Abel’s was accepted (see Genesis 4). Why? The epistle to the Hebrews says, “By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts” (Hebrews 11:4). The quality of the work does not determine its goodness, but the faith of the one who offers it.

To theological Cains, this looks like we don’t teach good works at all. But that’s not the case. Therefore, the adversaries falsely charge that our theologians do not teach good works. They not only require good works, but they also show how they can be done. The result convicts the hypocrites, who by their own powers try to fulfill the Law. For they cannot do the things they attempt (Apology of the Augsburg Confession, article V.15-16). We not only teach good works and require them, but we also show how they can be done.

That’s why the teaching on new obedience concludes not with the Law, but with the Gospel. The promise of forgiveness and that promise alone is what creates faith. In faith, that is, in Christ, we are right with God. The same Spirit who creates faith through the Gospel also stirs up love in us on account of those forgiven sins; and love fulfills the Law. And works done in faith, no matter how small and humble according to outward measures, are truly good and pleasing works before God.

Rev. Jacob Ehrhard is pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in New Haven, MO. He can be contacted at pastor.ehrhard@gmail.com.