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Current Events

The Olympics: A Lesson in Grace

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.

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Life Issues

Am I Meaningless?

Rev. Andrew Ratcliffe

Meaningless (NIV). Useless (GNT). Vanity (ESV). Futile (TLB). Absolutely pointless (GW)! Depending on your translation, that’s how King Solomon begins his short book entitled Ecclesiastes. Of all people why would Solomon—King over God’s people, builder of God’s Temple, political alliances abounding, gifted by God with wisdom beyond compare—reflect on life and come to conclusion that everything has been useless, that it’s been pointless? Yet he writes, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2). “I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind” (1:14). “I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun” (2:18). “For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity” (2:23).

If you think about it, it’s not that surprising really. How often have you wondered the same? You pour time, and energy, and more time into a friendship. But it seems you’re doing all of the giving and there’s nothing given in return. Is that friendship meaningless? Perhaps it’s pointless. You strive to perform well on the job, accomplishing tasks ahead of schedule, assisting others and being proactive in addressing work-related needs. But your service isn’t rewarded or recognized, and not like that person next to you. Don’t you have value as an employee? Is your work meaningless? You try to listen to your mom and dad. You try not to yell or talk back, but your mom and dad just don’t seem to get it. They won’t listen and it seems like you’re always in trouble. You wonder: Am I meaningless? When the world seems to cave in around you, when no one seems to listen, when there’s no apparent way out, or no way to get relief, then doubt sets in. Self-esteem wanes. You wonder, “Am I useless? Is life meaningless?”

How could King Solomon make such a statement? How could we?

Yet, Solomon’s words provide us with a moment to stop, think, and reflect on how these things are not meaningless. Even more so, Solomon’s words cause us to stop and give thanks that a life lived in Christ is always meaningful.

First, these things are not meaningless. Friendship: While I do not suggest you place yourself in relationships where you are taken advantage of or not truly appreciated, any loving service you provide to anyone is still meaningful, be it friend, family member, or coworker. Work: It’s great to be recognized! Even when you’re not, performing a job well is faithfully living out a meaningful life of vocation to which God calls you. Family: Even when things go awry, with parents and children getting on one another’s nerves, each time confession and absolution—forgiveness—is shared as family, you can’t get more meaningful than that! Life: If you’ve ever had the chance to sit with someone contemplating self-harm or suicide, you’ve had the chance to share the beauty, presence, and meaning that life has as it is rooted in our God, in Christ. These things are not meaningless.

Second, you are not meaningless. No matter how much you doubt, no matter how much your perceived value seems to slip away, no matter how much the “joy” seems to be sucked out of life, Ecclesiastes 2:26 remains true: “To the one who pleases him God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy.” God has given you joy! Because you please Him, He gives you joy! Not because of what you think, say and do, trying to look like a “good” Christian. It’s all because of Jesus. Your joy is found in Christ alone. Your value is found in Christ alone. You “please” God because of Christ alone.

On the cross Jesus took all of the sin—your sin, my sin—that devalues, that is pointless, that left within makes us meaningless. Jesus became meaningless for you, taking sin upon Himself, becoming the lowest of the low, giving Himself up to death. In rising from the grave He shows sin has no power over you to devalue you or drag you down. And in the seemingly meaningless means of bread and wine, He forgives, sustains and strengthens you with His very Body and Blood. In Christ alone, who gave His life for you, you are precious, treasured, valued and meaningful in God’s eyes at all times. Thanks be to God! In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Andrew Ratcliffe serves as pastor at St. John Lutheran in Seward, Nebraska.

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 2

Young Luther the student in class

Rev. Donavon Riley

When Martin was sent to school in Eisenach, his mother’s relatives helped him settle in. However, they were poor people, so life for him stayed pretty much the same as it had been in Magdeburg. He focused on his studies and sang in children’s choirs for food and a few coins. At some point, however, he met a woman named Schalbe. She was from a family of wealthy merchants. She arranged for Martin to stay in the home of a relative and eat his meals with another. This meant that after 1498, life became a bit better for Luther.

Another change that happened at Eisenach was that Martin caught the attention of the school’s headmaster, John Trebonius. He took Luther under his wing and stirred up the young student’s imagination. Trebonius, as Luther later recalled, was a gifted teacher. At the same time, Martin began a friendship with another teacher, Weigand Geldennupf. This friendship lasted up to Geldennupf’s death.

Geldennupf introduced Martin to ancient authors, like Aesop, Terence, and Virgil. The importance of this for Luther was so far reaching that later he translated Aesop’s fables into German. And, he then urged students, friends, and family to read, learn, and memorize the wonderful, wisdom-teaching fables.

It was Trebonius and Geldennupf who recognized Luther’s gifts, and it was they who paved the way for him to attend a university. Martin’s father, Hans, was very encouraged by this turn of events and did whatever he could to secure his son’s future learning, which he hoped would result in a career in church, law or medicine. Even though Hans barely earned enough to feed and support the family back home, when the time came, he made sure Martin had enough money to attend classes at the University of Erfurt.

It may be easy for us in the present to assume Martin’s intellectual skills lent themselves to excelling at his studies, and religious life and piety, but they didn’t. When he arrived at Erfurt, he was no different than any other student. And, as far as his religious life, Luther was an ordinary Roman Catholic—a believer who attended church regularly, but showed no particular excitement or desire to pursue religious studies.

Martin had learned a great deal about the Christian faith from the Schalbe’s, who were devout people, and they taught him much about monasticism. But, again, this didn’t appear to especially influence Martin’s view of the church or religion. Singing in choirs, attending church, and the like was considered a good work, a part of Luther’s Christian duty, and the way to gain spiritual security in his daily life. Salvation for Martin Luther, and everyone, was something earned. It was a religion of works.

Next week, we’ll dig into what sin, confession, and penance at the end of the 15th century contributed to a Christian’s “spiritual security” and daily life.

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

Categories
Catechesis

The “Extra” Commandments?

Rev. Eric Brown

Here’s a quick quiz for you. When was the last time you heard someone reference the Ninth or Tenth Commandments? You know, the two coveting commandments. When was the last time someone dropped a, “Hey, don’t go breaking the Ninth Commandment here?” We’ll occasionally hear that with the others: “Don’t break the Eighth Commandment,” “This is a Sixth Commandment issue,” etc. Really with 1-8 we will bring them up fairly regularly (at least, if you think on the commandments). But 9 and 10—they don’t show up in normal discussion. They are just sort of…extra commandments.

Or so we think, to our own detriment. Let’s ponder them. There they are, the two “coveting” commandments: Don’t covet your neighbor’s stuff, don’t covet your neighbor’s relationships (because a spouse, workers, and livestock are all relationships that you might be tempted to lure away). They are straightforward enough and we tend to rush through them in Confirmation class so we can finally get to the Creed.

But wait. Let me ask a question: Where does coveting happen? Let’s see…false witness: That happens in public. Stealing: in the world. Adultery: well, mainly in the world. The other commandments have a very strong public, worldly aspect to them… but coveting? Coveting takes place in your mind. Coveting really is the “thought” aspect of sinning in “thought, word, and deed.” Coveting is the sin that really harms you, first and foremost.

What do I mean? Well, let’s take coveting your neighbor’s house. If you are sitting there, longing after your neighbor’s house, wishing you had it, wanting it… what are you ignoring? The gifts God has already given you. Are you delighting in what you have? Are you rejoicing in God’s good gifts to you? Is your house a thing to delight and rejoice in or is it blah? Coveting takes the gifts God has given you and ruins them in your mind.

When you slip into covetousness, it ruins your peace. Peace is a big word in the Scriptures which is understood to be the sense of total wellbeing. Peace is “everything is good.” Peace is what God sees at the end of each day in Genesis 1 when “it was good.” Yet when you covet, you don’t see things as being good anymore…and you convince yourself that it won’t be good until he’s your boyfriend, until you get that new pony, until you have that specific job…so on and so forth. And your sense of peace, your sense of wellbeing is then demolished.

When you slip into covetousness, it ruins your freedom. Freedom also is a big word in the Scriptures, especially in Greek. It’s the word that describes the whole purpose of salvation: For freedom you have been set free! Covetousness destroys your freedom. If you just have to have X, that controls your actions. If I’m content with my car, I’m free to enjoy it. I’m free to drive it, use it, even free to give it away or trade it in. It’s a gift that I have, and thus it is a gift that I can freely use (or freely give away). But if I’m coveting some other ride…well, that freedom goes out the window. I’m no longer free to enjoy my vehicle; I’ve bound myself to this goal of getting this other car. I’m not happy anymore. I have submitted myself again to a yoke of slavery—one that’s just in my mind.

Covetousness is a huge issue in our lives. We don’t talk about it that much, because it’s hard to see it. Normally we see its impacts, we see the things that our covetousness drives us to, and we point those out. But just think for a moment how many things you see or hear or read that try to make you want more, desire things, and be discontent with who you are and what you have. The world is driving you towards covetousness.

Over and against that, Christ Jesus says, “Peace be with you.” Seriously. Peace. In Christ, it is all good. Is there anything in this life that you really need that Christ doesn’t give? No. So remember that and be at peace. For freedom Christ has set you free. You don’t need to chase after this thing or that desire. Everything you have is a gift from God, and you are free to serve and free to show love. You are free to give of yourself, because Christ has already provided you everything you need for this life and eternal life.

When God tells us that we shall not covet, it’s a reminder of the fact that He has already provided for us so many good things—all that we need and certainly more than we deserve. There is no need to get ground down and become miserable because of the rat race of the world for you have true life in Christ. Remember that the next time covetousness comes creeping around your mind. You don’t need what your mind and heart are telling they just have to have. You have peace in Christ, and you are free from such things in Him.

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

Categories
Current Events

It’s All about the Bread of Life

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.

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 1

Hans and Margaret Luther, Martin's parents

Rev. Donavon Riley

When Martin Luther died on February 18, 1546 some people said they’d heard a rumor that demons flew out of his body. Others said witnesses at his death bed saw Martin carried into heaven by Elijah and the chariots of Israel.

But who was Martin Luther really? Was he a prophet like Elijah? A demon? A hero of the faith? A revolutionary? The man responsible for splitting Christendom once and for all?

Unlike his death, Luther’s birth wasn’t such a big deal. His dad, Hans Luder, was a peasant, meaning he was poor and of no importance to anyone who mattered. But Hans had plans, and he’d decided he wasn’t going to be a peasant his whole life.

By the time his second son, Martin, was born on November 10, 1483, Hans had moved from his hometown of Mohra to Eiselben. Hans was a good man, a devoted husband and father, and faithful. That’s why he took Martin to be baptized at the church of St. Peter on the day of his birth. Well, that and, at that time, more than sixty percent of babies died so Hans was afraid his child wouldn’t be allowed into heaven if he weren’t baptized. That day was also the Feast of St. Martin, so Hans named the boy “Martin.”

Hans’ own dad had died around the time of Martin’s birth. That meant he had no support for himself or his young family. He was on his own now. With few options, Hans went to work in his brother’s fields. But that didn’t sit right with him, so before long he left to make his own fortune.

The family moved to Mansfeld about ten miles away from Eiselben. Hans took a job in a copper mine. It was very dangerous work. Cave-ins, poison air, and water flooding into the shafts were constant threats to the miners.

Hans’ wasn’t paid very well, which meant that money was tight for the Luders when Martin was young. He later recalled that his mother beat him until his hands bled for stealing a nut off the kitchen table. Another time, Hans whipped Martin with a cane for playing a trick on someone. They wouldn’t tolerate bad behavior or dishonesty. The Luders were determined to be more than just peasants and to ensure that their children would enjoy a better life than them.

At the same time, the end of the 1400s were rough for everybody. The world was a hard and violent place. Plagues, peasant revolts, wars, famine, and drought were a part of ordinary life.

In spite of the conditions, Hans dreamed of a better life for his children no matter how dark and dreary the world around them. That’s why, instead of dragging his son into a copper mine with him, Hans sent young Martin to the town school. Later, in 1497, Martin went on to Magdeburg, then a year later to Eisenach. After that, to the University of Erfurt.

Hans wanted Martin to succeed and he was willing to sacrifice his own comfort and happiness to make it happen. Martin, on the other hand, had nothing but criticism for his education. He was not yet five years old when he started Latin school. The students were regularly insulted, cursed, and beaten in order to motivate them. On more than one occasion, young Martin was made to wear a dunce cap and referred to as “ass” for the day. If a student got into too much trouble he was sent home to be whipped with a cane by his parents.

In spite of his treatment, Martin grew to love music above all other subjects. He became very good at performing and composing music. But he wasn’t taught music so he could enjoy it. He was made to learn so he could sing in the church choir.

At Latin school, Martin learned the Lord’s Prayer, Ten Commandments, and Creed by heart. Students who failed to memorize these in Latin were whipped with a cane. Martin later recalled he was beaten fifteen times in one morning for failing to memorize and recite the assigned Latin homework.

In 1497, when he thirteen, Martin had learned enough Latin to “graduate” to another school. He went to live in Magdeburg, where he lived with the Brethren of the Common Life. They were a very pious group of laity. In between classes, Martin was made to walk the streets with classmates singing hymns and begging for food. This is also where the modern practice of “caroling” at Christmas time began. But unlike today, the boys were expected to carol all year round. They were students and beggars. If they wanted to eat or drink anything they were expected to “beg for their supper.”

No one looked at little Martin Luther and said “He’s demon-possessed!” Or, “He’s going to be the prophet of Germany!” Luther’s early life was unimportant and by his own recollection, brutal and difficult.

Next week, we will read more about Martin’s early education in Eisenach and the thing that happened at Erfurt that changed his life.

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

Categories
Catechesis

Mary Magdalene’s True Story

Scholars argue about St. Mary Magdalene. We know from the Gospels that she followed after Jesus. She is listed by name at least 12 times by the Evangelists. Both Luke and Mark describe her as having seven demons cast out of her (Luke 8:2; Mark 16:9). Her name indicates she was from Magdala, a town on the western shore of the sea of Galilee. And we know from John, she was the first eyewitness and testifier of the resurrection of Jesus.

That should be enough to satisfy our curiosity. But idle speculation that began as early as the fourth century added more. Increasingly Mary was considered to be a prostitute or, at the very least, a woman with loose morals. The unnamed woman who anoints Jesus’s feet (Luke 7:36-50), well, now that’s Mary Magdalene, too. These opinions have lingered and have been further exaggerated by popular books, films, and a famous musical.

We get it. We’d like to know more. How much do we know about most of the apostles? Usually not much more than their names and, like Mary, there’s a whole lot of pious mythology. It’s interesting, though: The speculation around Mary largely is not positive. On the contrary, the additions to her history paint her in a bad light. Even her seven demons were theorized by Gregory the Great to not be legit demons but rather the seven cardinal sins.

We might think that the ancients made Mary look bad in order to make the rest of us look better. But let’s put the best construction on their motives. The worse Mary seems the more astounding the grace of God is. It’s one thing for Jesus to cast out seven demons and redeem such a poor woman. But to save the outrageous sinner Mary was, according to our stories—now that’s a testament to God’s forgiveness!

But that’s not how our stories are told. We’re really good at building up a popular myth to describe our own lives. But unlike that sad story of Mary Magdalene, the stories we usually tell feature our accomplishments, our family, our great reputation, our moral living. Our own stories end up being nothing more than long self-righteousness projects. We try to overcome the devastating truth, “For there is not a just man on earth who does good and does not sin” (Ecclesiastes 7:20). The Bible tells the true story—bleak and dark, poor and miserable—and stops our mouth. All the attempts to tell a better story about ourselves fail because they ring false.

And yet, that’s not how we talk at funerals. We try to tell good stories about the dead. Eulogies (“good words”), unless you’re Irish, rarely tell the true story. We set aside the failings, failures, and moral shortcomings as we remember our loved ones. We forget the sins and transgressions of the deceased. We talk about our dead like they’re bona fide saints. And that’s just right!

All the nonsense stories we tell about ourselves are finally dead in Christ. They are buried in His new tomb. We have a new story in His new testament. We are forgiven in Jesus’s blood. We are baptized into Christ. The last story is the story that carries us into eternity. We are God’s children: called, redeemed, purchased, and won. The true stories about our fleshly life aren’t held against us any more than they’re credited to us. Like the stories of Mary Magdalene, true or pious myth, all of our life stories tell of one whom Christ has saved.

 

Categories
Higher Homilies

The Lamb

This sermon was preached at the Opening Divine Service at the 2016 Bread of Life Higher Things® conferences.

Rev. George F. Borghardt

In the Name of Jesus. Amen. “Take the Lamb. Kill the Lamb. Eat the Lamb. Put the Lamb’s blood on the doorpost. Remember the Sacrifice. Be saved by Me.” It is the Lord’s Passover! You see, the thing you most need to fear in this life isn’t the devil or the world. No, be scared of God. God is the One from whom you need to be saved!

The Lord God isn’t a cuddly teddy bear or an old Santa-Claus-like-Grandpa God. He’s not a best friend God (“BFG”) or the type of God that you Snapchat with or whatever new-fangled social media thing that you young whippersnappers play with on your phones. No, the Lord God is the destroyer of sin and sinners. He’s the unstoppable force and the immovable object who is not just “salty” about sin, He’s burning with hell-hot anger and hatred against it and those who sin. He’s a jealous God, visiting the sins on the third and fourth generation of those who hate Him.

Think about that the next time you dismiss your sins as a nothing or do something because you think that God will just forgive you afterwards. The fires of hell say that the Lord God isn’t manipulated like that.

But you won’t see that angry God in the Passover Lamb! For the Lord God launches Himself on the night of the Passover at the Egyptians to open a can of Old Testament judgment on every male firstborn both man and beast who gets in the way of His being your God.

Take the Lamb—”a pure one” He says. Don’t get “chintzy” with the God of Israel and pick out a three-legged lamb or one with spots. It must be a perfect lamb, a spotless lamb. Kill the Lamb at twilight. Take the Lamb’s blood and paint it on the door post with a hyssop branch.

Then, eat all of the Lamb. Consume it with bitter herbs, remembering your suffering. Have shoes on your feet, clothes tucked in, staff in hand, and ready to go. When the Lord arrives He’s going to save you. For when the Lord God saw the lambs’ blood on the doorposts of the children of Israel’s houses, He passed over their homes. They were saved from His wrath, saved from Him.

“Take the Lamb. Kill the Lamb. Eat the Lamb. Remember the Blood on the doorpost. You were once slaves and I freed you.”

And so, the children of Israel celebrated the Lord’s Passover every year until…Good Friday. On the night when He was betrayed Jesus saves you from the wrath of the Father for your slavery to sin.

God Himself chooses His own Passover Lamb: one Lamb for everyone, for all time—a perfect Lamb, without blemish or spot. He chooses Jesus.

The Lord God Himself is the Passover Lamb on this night—slain at twilight. God only punishes one Firstborn for you: All the anger and hatred that God has for every sin for all time fell upon His Son, His only-begotten, Jesus on the Cross. Jesus died. You live.

Here our true Paschal Lamb we see,
Whom God so freely gave us;
He died on the accursed tree—
So strong His love—to save us.
– Christ Jesus Lay in Death’s Strong Bands, LSB 458:5

And the God who punishes, whose anger consumes and burns hot like the sun, passes over punishing you. Jesus dies—His blood covering you in Holy Baptism. You live and love in Him, blessed to the thousandth generation. By grace, received—that is eaten—by faith alone.

Take, eat the Body of the slain Lamb of God. Eat the Lamb’s Body. Be forgiven. Receive His sacrifice in the Bread of Life. Take, drink the cup. Receive His Blood shed on the Cross. Drink the Blood of the Lamb and be forgiven.

That’s how you “Do this in remembrance of Me!” You eat His Body! You drink His Blood! You receive His Calvary-sacrifice. “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup you proclaim the Passover Lamb’s death until He comes again.”

And the Children of Israel left plundering Egypt—with the grieving Egyptians throwing their valuables at them in hopes that the Israelites would stay gone forever and take their firstborn-slaughtering God with them.

And you, today, feasting on the Body and Blood of God’s slaughtered and raised-from-the-dead-First-Born Son plunder all your enemies, too. Death, Satan, Hell…these can no more harm you than they can harm Christ. They are stingless and toothless against Christ. So, they are stingless and toothless against you. For you have already been marked: doorpost, lintel, forehead, heart, in the waters of Holy Baptism.

See, His blood now marks our door;
Faith points to it; death passes o’er.
And Satan cannot harm us. Alleluia! – LSB 458:5

And God can’t harm you either. In the Passover Lamb, He now calls you “His child.” And in the Body and Blood of Jesus, you call Him your “Heavenly Father.” No more wrath. No more judgment. No more hell. Only forgiveness, eternal life, and love for those around you.

For this is the Lord’s Passover: His Body broken for you and His Blood shed on the Cross for you, for the forgiveness of your sins. Receive it. Eat Jesus’ sacrifice. Be forgiven. Be saved.

“And the Body and Blood of your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ will strengthen and keep you steadfast in the One True Faith unto life everlasting. Depart in peace!” In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Rev. George F. Borghardt is Senior Pastor of Zion Lutheran Church in McHenry, IL. He also serves as President on the Higher Things Board of Directors.

Categories
Catechesis

Same-Sex Attraction: Lord, to Whom Shall We Go?

Dakota Monday

I’ll be honest; I have no idea what I am doing. I am a 23-year-old Lutheran who is trying to live out a celibate lifestyle while struggling with some sins, namely, Same-Sex Attraction (SSA). Earlier this year, I wrote an article on dominant narratives in the United States that can have an influence over the hearts and minds of Christians struggling with SSA. The LGBTQ narrative is just one of them. It can be so tempting to leave a faithful Lutheran church for an affirming LGBTQ church. It seems like my worries would be over—able to have my cake and eat it too, so to speak. In other words, I’d be “free” to be openly gay and “Christian” at the same time. The world is telling us all kinds of stories while the Church catholic is telling us THE story. The stories we expose our hearts and minds to will shape who we are, and that’s why we need to hear the Gospel narrative—that is, the theology of the cross.

So where do we go to hear this Gospel narrative? Divine Service! We go to the Lord Himself in the Sacrament of the Altar. We hear His word read aloud to us every Sunday. There are Sundays when I would rather not go and instead stay in bed, but I desperately need Jesus. So, what do I do? I arise, bear my cross and go to Him, who bore THE cross. We all have to carry our crosses. Remember that Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb, is not foreign to such a concept. Jesus, the Son of God, showed us how to bear our cross. He showed us real love, and He taught us how to die. The immortal God-man showed mortal man how to die and thus how to live—quite the paradox!

So how do we die and thus live? Well, think about the Divine Service. When you enter the church, what do you see first? Hopefully, your eyes rest on the baptismal font either near the entrance or near the altar. The font reminds us to daily drown the Old Adam in our baptism. Baptism reminds us that we have a new identity in Christ. We live in our identity (our baptism) as sons and daughters of God which is so much better than our sexual, national, racial, or political identity.

At the beginning of the Divine Service, we die by confessing our sins and receiving absolution. The practice of confession and absolution paints such a beautiful picture of Christ forgiving the sinner. Then we hear the Word of God. We die when the Law of God condemns us, but we live when the Gospel forgives us.

Next is the Sacrament of the Altar. We live by receiving the actual Body and Blood of Jesus. This gift amazes me every time I think about it because it’s Christ offering His true Body and Blood to us sinners. Through the Sacrament of the Altar we receive the strength to carry on—it undergirds us as sojourners in a foreign land.

All of these major elements make up the historic liturgy. This liturgy is always and consistently telling us THE story every Sunday. The liturgy is always telling us what God does for us. It teaches us that we belong to Him because of our baptism. It shows us that God loves and forgives us through confession and absolution. It tells us that God has something to say to us through His Word. It teaches us that Christ is always there to welcome us to His table and to give us His true Body and Blood. So that’s why it’s a paradox: In our dying, we live, and this is the Christian life. When I find myself tempted and on the verge of leaving the faith I can hear those sweet words of the Alleluia sung in our liturgy, “Alleluia. Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Alleluia, alleluia” (Divine Service, Setting One, LSB). Where am I to go, dear reader? To forsake Jesus is to leave eternal life. When you find yourself struggling in the faith then run to your baptism, remember that you belong to Christ and focus on Him, and go to Divine Service and soak up the story He is telling you there.

So, to whom shall we go? We go to Jesus, who offers Himself and His many gifts given to the Church—given to you. When you go to Divine Service, you will find yourself to be a sinner-saint who is in dire need of Jesus. You find yourself seeing others as more worthy of the Sacraments than you. When you allow yourself to be shaped by the liturgy and sacraments, you will find yourself as a beggar pointing other beggars toward the Bread of Life: Jesus. It won’t matter to you if one Christian struggles with SSA or with some other sin because you will realize how in dire need of Jesus we all are. And no one is beyond redemption by Jesus.

Dakota Monday is a member of Grace Lutheran Church in Greensboro, North Carolina.

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Catechesis

Instruments of the Holy Spirit

Rev. Jacob Ehrhard

The chief article of the Christian faith, the article upon which the Church stands and falls, is that a person is justified—made right with God—by faith in Jesus Christ. Faith believes that, for Christ’s sake, we are received into God’s favor apart from any of our own works or merits. Instead, it is Christ’s merit—His life, death, and resurrection—that is credited to us when we believe. God counts this faith as righteousness.

But the question is: how do we get this faith? If it is something we produce, then we’re sent right back to our own work or merit. But faith is not our work. So that we may obtain this faith, the ministry of teaching the Gospel and administering the Sacraments was instituted. Through the Word and Sacraments, as through instruments, the Holy Spirit is given. He works faith, when and where it pleases God, in those who hear the good news that God justifies those who believe that they are received into grace for Christ’s sake. This happens not through our own merits, but for Christ’s sake (Augsburg Confession V.1-3).

The Word and the Sacraments are instruments of the Holy Spirit. They are the means by which the Holy Spirit comes to you as a gift in order to bestow faith. Faith is His work, not the work of the faithful. Faith is the Spirit’s pleasure, wherever He bestows it. The Word and the Sacraments deliver the good news that God justifies the sinner, and receives Him into grace for Christ’s sake, by the faith that He works.

There are some who think that they can obtain the Holy Spirit by their own works—by meditation or inspiration or perspiration. But the Spirit will always remain elusive to those who pursue Him by their own works. The Spirit is always gift.

Why is it important that the gift of the Holy Spirit comes through means? St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). Another way of saying, “jars of clay,” is, “earthy vessels.” Through very simple, earthy means—an uttered absolution, a handful of water, a bite of bread, and sip of wine—God delivers His Holy Spirit. The beautiful simplicity of these means shows us that it is God’s power, His Word of forgiveness, that both creates and sustains our faith. As one old Lutheran teacher once said, “The earthier, the giftier.” In the name of + Jesus.

Rev. Jacob Ehrhard is pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in New Haven, Missouri.