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Christ Rising

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 17, 2015

Josh Radke

In the Bond movie, Skyfall, agent 007 is captured and forced into an audience with the story’s villain (a deeply scarred, former MI6 field agent). During their exchange, the villain rattles off a series of terrorist acts he allegedly has committed as if recalling items on a shopping list. Refusing to give his opposition satisfaction, a sardonic Bond deadpans, “Well, everybody needs a hobby.” The villain attempts to return Bond’s impertinence with an off-hand inquiry about the master agent’s hobby of choice. Bond’s answer is succinct, defiant, and appropriate to his character: “Resurrection.”

I love that matter-of-fact line from Daniel Craig’s “James Bond”; it is one of my favorites from the character in the whole canon of films, and it reflects closely the Christian mindset. Along these lines, my pastor likes to refer to Christendom as an “Easter people.” What does this mean? Consider these words from Jesus in the pivotal sixth chapter of St John’s gospel: “And this is the will of Him who sent Me, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in Him may have everlasting life; and I will raise him up at the last day” (v. 40), as well as, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day” (vv. 53-54).

Our LORD isn’t waxing philosophical here; the reaction of revulsion by the people bears this out. Jesus is also not just referring to the eating and drinking of His Word through His person: He is directly and personally connecting the feasting on His Word to the physical resurrection we confess in the Creed–four times, between verses 39 and 54, Jesus refers to the physical resurrection He will bring. Four times in such a manner means our LORD urgently wants our attention. The immortality Jesus promises is not some vague form of a spiritual, utopian plane for phantoms. It is the soul and flesh, reunited as one and inseparable, on an actual day to come, for a tangible new creation that He will bring. There are examples of this in Scripture: the Nain widow’s son, Jairus’ daughter, Lazarus, and the people walking out of their graves on Good Friday, after the gruesome and ignoble death Christ paid for our sins and to undo the death-curse of the Fall. These are demonstrations of the Truth in Jesus’ words.

Then on Easter, the victorious Lamb of God shows us the real deal: Himself. The opening verse of the popular medieval motet, Christus Resurgens, bears witness to this singular event in history: “Christ, rising again from the dead, dieth now no more. Death shall no more have dominion over him.” Jesus’ resurrection on Easter by our Father is the reason the church (quickly) adopted Sunday as the proper day to gather for the Divine Service. And what is the culmination of the Divine Service? Holy Communion. “Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” The Lord’s Supper provides us forgiveness of sins, and also remembrance and confidence in the sure promise of our resurrection, for the sake of Christ. Thus what is said and sung concerning Jesus’ resurrection is also true for the resurrection that awaits each Christian.

So unlike Bond’s semi-flippant remark, for the Christian, resurrection to life with the Triune God is no mere hobby. Our resurrection in Christ is part of God’s essential Truth, given us to walk in daily by faith. Jesus’ physical resurrection, as the first-fruits of our own (I Corinthians 15:20-23, Philippians 3:20-21), saturated the language of the early days of the persecuted New Testament church, and it should continue to do so: in the liturgy, and in our conversations with fellow Christians, family, friends, co-workers. Indeed, this Truth is hammered home nowhere more profoundly than when we often receive it through faith, and by each one of our senses, on the day that weekly commemorates the first Resurrection Day, and also points forward to the eternal Resurrection Day to come.

Josh Radke is deacon at Hope Lutheran Church in Bangor ME, and awaiting acceptance to Concordia Lutheran Theological Seminary–St. Catharines Ontario. He is also the author of the historical-fantasy novel, Stitched Crosses: Crusade.

Pop. Culture & the Arts

Christ Rising

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 17, 2015

Josh Radke

Life Issues

Tales of an Unfair God: The Story of Harold and Ann

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 15, 2015

Rev. Gaven Mize

“Don’t leave me,” Ann said to her husband. She had been sick for the better part of six months and had been in hospice care for the past week. Time was running out. Her cheeks had sunken in, her eyes had blackened, and her mouth was almost always dry.

“I won’t leave you. I’m right here,” said her husband. Harold had always loved her. He had loved her since he first saw her. He hated being in the Army because it so often took him away from her. He got out of the service as soon as he could and then he made a promise to her never to leave her. But, he knew that soon the promise would be broken whether he wanted it or not. As her breath slowed Harold began to cry. He barely even noticed when the pastor came. Harold faintly caught the last few lines from the pastor. “…may you see the Redeemer face to face, and enjoy the vision of God forever,” the pastor whispered. And soon after, the pastor told Harold he would be right outside. It was not very long after the pastor left that Ann did, too. She was gone. Harold was a quiet man. He was a man of distinction, honor, and he carried with him a strong and unshakable faith. But not right then. Right then he wanted to run down the hall screaming at the top of his lungs about just how unfair God had been to him. Was this a sin? Surely, he recalled a biblical figure or two who had questioned God. But, who cared at this point? God had taken away the love that He had given Harold. And Harold didn’t know much, but at that time he knew that God wasn’t a fair God. Harold and Ann had been together 55 years and now he was forced to leave her. God forced Harold to break his promise to his wife.

The next few days moved very slowly. Harold left most, if not all, of the funeral arrangements for the kids. He was numb and just wanted it to all be over: the funeral, his life, just all over. He then recalled Ann’s favorite flower and became somewhat reinvigorated and determined that his wife would be buried with pink and white snapdragons in her hands. He faintly remembered the door clicking closed and the car starting, but what he did recall was passing his pastor’s car parked in front of the coffee shop. Removing all traces of snapdragons from his mind, Harold whipped the car around and headed to get some coffee. Harold was going to get some answers.

Harold walked into the shop, sat down, and asked, “Why, preacher? Why would God take my wife? Why would He do this to me if He is so good, so just, so fair?”

Taken aback, the preacher answered, “To you, Harold? God didn’t do this to you. Death comes for us all. What He did was for Ann.” He continued, “This isn’t Ann’s first death. In her baptism she died the death of Christ as was raised to new life. Do you think that God would have her to remain dead in this death?” The pastor thought he had said the right words. He had gone to seminary and they had said that things like this might happen.

“God is not just. He is an unfair God,” Harold said.

“It is true Harold that God is not fair, but just He most certainly is,” the pastor said. “It is unfair that Christ became flesh and dwelt among us, it is unfair that He died for our sins on the cross, and it is certainly unfair that we have been ripped from the grasp of sin, death, and the devil in our baptisms. Those things are unfair, if we got what was fair we certainly would have rooms reserved in a very hot section of hell, separated from God for all time. But just, He is. He is just because He is the justifier. Christ is the one who took on Ann’s sins and the one who stands between death and life for her. He is her judge and innocent is her verdict.”

“I have to go,” said Harold. “I promised I wouldn’t leave Ann and I have been gone from her body too long. This is hard, preacher. Promise, you won’t leave me to suffer alone.”

The pastor looked up at Harold, “That promise is for God alone to keep. You have broken no promise today or the day Ann died. Christ has kept that promise for you and He will keep it when your day of dying comes. But, here, today I’ll be by your side, until the end, until the casket is lowered and after.”

The pastor visits Ann from time to time. But now when he comes with pink and white snapdragons, he also brings with him a cup of coffee and lays a Bible verse on the grave next to hers. Harold’s grave. Today that verse left on the hard tombstone reads: “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” In death and in life, no truer words can be spoken.

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

Life Issues

Confessions Of A Recovering Evangelical

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 11, 2015

Tanya Saueressig-Nevin

The man in the white dress was coming around. He handed out gifts to the kneeling children while we, a mixed group of silver-haired saints, sticky-faced toddlers, working class stiffs, and menopausal moms looked on. Some ancient tune was played in the background. The notes brought peace I didn’t know I needed. He put the bread in my hand. I took it and ate. He gave me red wine. I took it and drank. Nothing had changed, but everything had. I got up, gave a slight bow, and as I walked away from the rail back to my seat I said, “THAT is why I joined a dead religion.”

Dead. That’s what I had always thought. That’s what I was always told. Any stodgy church that doesn’t have a rockin’ band is dead. Any church that isn’t growing is dead. Any church that limits the Holy Spirit is dead. Any church without a youth group is dead. Any church without a coffee shop is dead. Any church that’s older than fifty years is dead. Why on earth would I ever want to set foot in a rotting graveyard like that?

Creeds are for zombies–the dumb moans of spiritless shells. Confessions are for the walking dead–lifeless words that can’t cast heavenly spells. No, none of that 500-year-old Reformation garbage is for a “true believer.” The time for that has come and gone. We’ve evolved…don’t you know? In a “spirit filled” church, pastors must wear skinny jeans. They all do, you see. They tell funny jokes, give relevant references to the upcoming Star Wars film, and can life-coach like nobody’s business…from the stage.

Pastor has the Words of Life but never uses them. He doesn’t even know what to do with them, except throw out a nugget here or there. Mostly he keeps them shut in that book of red letters. Then, like the performer that he is, he skillfully turns the mirror on you and there you are: kind of happy about it because you love yourself most of all. Only it’s not the squeaky clean image everyone around you sees. No, it’s your blackened self. Your zombie self. Then he throws a sprinkling of magic words about a Jewish guy, and something about a cross, and tells you how to repay that holy man for what He’s done. He deserves your best, after all. Pastor tells you to have fun with that and slips away as the words fall to the floor and the band takes over the room. The lights go down. The fog machine winds up.

Music repeats the word “I” over and over so God knows you mean it. Tears, it seems, must stream down cheeks. Bodies must sway while hands touch the sky. It’s a sure sign you’re really into worship. Maybe if you cry enough that Jewish man will know you’re really scared and confused and that you don’t know what the heck you’re doing. Maybe then He’ll hear your prayers and tip towards your tears. But not for you. He didn’t tip toward you.

Plates must be passed and records must be checked for faithfulness. Don’t forget, your faith shows through cheerful giving. And if it doesn’t hurt a little, maybe you’re not committed. You can’t cheat God. He’s always watching. Put it in the basket. You’ll be blessed. Then that Jewish man will come closer to you.

Can you speak languages only angels understand? You must if you are a true believer. If you can’t speak in tongues, maybe you’re not one of us. Make it up, if you have to. Mumble something, anything. Just string together some slippery sounding words so the congregation thinks you can speak in tongues, and maybe they won’t notice that you can’t. The people will keep coming back. They will keep pressing their otherworldly hands on your body to make you one with them. Make you talk like them. Make you feel like you’re together. You’re all one big, Spirit-filled church. Everyone is close, so just whisper your prayers. They’ll see your mouth move. It will make them happy, and maybe then they’ll go away.

Give your time, your talents, your everything because Someone gave everything. Give your attention, your heart, your soul, your gifts, all you are and more. Pray more. There’s still twenty-three hours in the day. You can’t remember everything you forgot. Be diligent in prayer. Get it all out in fresh new words every time.

It’s how it was for me. I felt like I was stuck in the Matrix with Neo. What are those red letters in the Bible? How am I supposed to even know what they mean? I know they must mean something. How do I hear Him speak, see His face, feel Him near, know He loves, and even maybe forgives the monster I see staring back at me from the mirror? Is God even real? Is any of this Christian stuff real?

The fog machines. The angels overhead and demons at my back. The weight was too heavy for me. Skinny jeans and skits, money and music, slain in the Spirit all around, but I wouldn’t fall down. The swirling water a symbol of grace. A Saltine cracker a symbol of a Jewish carpenter I imagined I once knew. A thimbleful of grape juice. A symbol of Jesus’ blood once spilled. Is He even real? Is any of this real? I just wanted it to stop.

I had passed by a little building with stained glass windows and a sign about a potluck a hundred times, never paying any attention.. The letters LC-MS were on the sign. What is an LC-MS anyway? Some kind of cult, probably. But I might look it up. Can’t hurt to try.

A week later we went in. I remember sniffing the air suspiciously. Little old ladies with polyester jackets were everywhere. The off-key organ made me cringe. Kids were crying at inopportune times. The coffee was burnt. The songs…well, I didn’t know them. Why did everyone stand up, then sit down, then stand up, then pray, then go up front, then come back and sit down, and on and on. I had no idea what was going on. This was not what I expected. But in a way, it was. And I loved it.

We were told about that Jewish guy. His name is Jesus. He is the Red Letters–the Word. We were told who we are to Him. That yes, we are blackened sinners, but He loves us anyway. He knew we were the walking dead heading towards a cliff, so He got on a cross to rescue us. He died, took away our sins, rose from the dead, and then He was gone. But, He’s came back. And we are His saints, because He said we are–not because of what we do or say or think or feel. We are saints because He is who He said He is and He did what He said He’d do for us. We heard the man in the white dress reading the Words of Life–all of them, all the time. He told us what they mean. They are about Jesus. All of them, and now we are alive as a consequence. We receive the bread and receive the wine, and Jesus is there, Body and Blood, because He said He is. We are forgiven. We are free because He said we are free.

We do not have to wonder. We don’t need to muster up tears, fake whispers to angels, or cast out demons from our past. We don’t have to pray away our sins we can’t even recall, or give ’til it hurts, or writhe on the floor in prophetic ecstasy, or visions, or dreams, or anything at all. Jesus gave Himself to us, and that’s everything.

So what do we have to do now–my husband and I and our children? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The Word says our work is to believe in Him and He does the rest. ALL of it. He saved us in baptism. He washed away our death because He was there in death for us. The Words of Life tell us. He saves us in the bread and wine–His Body and His Blood that brings new life. The Words of Life tell us. He comes to us through that book as it’s read and preached to us. Every scarlet word between the covers tells us He was there and He is here now, and He will be there at the end.

The man in the white dress comes around. He hands out God’s gifts to His kneeling children. Our pastor puts God’s body in our waiting hands. We take it and eat. Jesus is there. Our pastor gives us sweet red wine. We take it and drink. Jesus is there. Forgiveness. Forgiven and free. For real. The pastor speaks the Word that tells us this is true. Then we get up. We give a slight bow out of respect for the Holy of Holies, and as we walk back to our seat, I say to myself, “THAT is why I joined a dead religion.”

Tanya Saueressig-Nevin is a member at Lord of Life Lutheran Church, Chesterfield, Missouri.

Catechesis

A Cross from Where?

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 9, 2015

Rev. Harrison Goodman

I’ve never had anyone ask me why I wear the letter ‘t’ on my neck and had the “evangelism opportunity” to explain that it’s actually a cross. I’ve never been misunderstood and asked the follow up question, “…a cross from where?” Even being raised Jewish, I knew Christians used crosses to mark themselves and their religion.

There’s this fallacy some people wave around that there are people in our communities who haven’t ever heard of Christianity. I’ve never met any of them. I just don’t think it’s true. They’ve heard all about Christians. They’re quick to tell me.

They say, “Oh. You’re Christian. So, are you Christian like the people who hold up hate signs at military funerals, or Christian like the people who believe dinosaur bones were planted by the devil to trick you?” I’ve heard, “I knew a Christian once. He beat his wife.” and “Why would I want to go listen to some pedophile priest talk about why I’m a sinner?” They’ve heard a lot about people who wear crosses–they’ve just never heard of Christ.

I don’t know when, but someone once said, “You just might be the only Bible someone ever reads.” That translates roughly to “when people look at you and see that cross you wear they get a little taste of what you believe in…so behave.” I wonder if whoever first said that bothered to read the book before trying to demonstrate it. When I read the Scriptures, all I see are sinners whom God calls righteous because of Christ. I see murderers and thieves and drunkards and adulterers. I see broken men and women. I see sinners. I see a Christ who loves them enough to die for each and every one of them.

You might just be the only Bible someone reads, so do you really want to make sure all they see is law, or maybe admit there’s some gospel in there, too? Secretly, I wish I could answer every criticism of someone who wears a cross by saying, “Those sinners can’t be Christians. I’m embarrassed to be grouped in with them. Real Christians wouldn’t do evil things. Here, look at me. This is what Christians really look like. The truth is, they wouldn’t have to look too hard to find my own hypocrisy and sin. That’s why I wear a cross. I need it.

Maybe we should even wear crucifixes just to be clear. I don’t wear this as a mark of my morality. It’s a mark of my sin that my God died for. My God even loves a sinner like me. It doesn’t make what I do right. It doesn’t make it okay–just died for, and so forgiven. I identify as someone for whom Jesus died. Hi, my name is Baptized. I wear a crucifix because the love that God has for me isn’t a feeling, but a concrete action in time–a sacrifice made for one as undeserving as me. That love can’t exist in a vacuum. It can’t be just a concept. That kind of love looks like a crucifix.

If I’m the only Bible that someone read, I hope to God they’ll find more than just law. I don’t know how to demonstrate that in myself other than saying “I, a poor miserable sinner” and begging for absolution each chance I get. I go to church because I need what’s there. I go because I embody anger and bitterness and lust and evil and sin. I go because I need Christ. You can come, too. Receive the same gifts that sustain me. Yes, there are sinners here. They need forgiveness. That’s sort of the point. That’s why there’s a cross. There’s help for us sinners. There’s help for you, too. There’s forgiveness for your secrets that keep you from standing with us for fear of being outed as less than ideal. You can find peace here, too. God loves you and has redeemed you from every pit you find yourself in.

Everyone gets touchy when we talk about “witnessing.” Some of it’s because we recognize we have something worth sharing, and don’t want to waste any opportunities. Some of it’s because most people don’t actually want to knock on a stranger’s door and hold out pamphlets, because it’s awkward and scary and we don’t know what to say. This isn’t a call for more or less “mission programs.” It’s just a call to acknowledge reality. Most of us have at least some in our lives who doesn’t know Jesus, the Good Shepherd, who seeks out His lost sheep. Most of us are uncomfortable talking about religion with them. I am.

But I’m not uncomfortable loving them. They are my family and my friends. I don’t need to be told to care for them by a mission program. Loving and serving them is my vocation. God put these specific people in my life for me to serve. He gave you some, too. This service doesn’t look like forced, awkward encounters where I care more about saying I “witnessed” than I do about the person I “witnessed” to. It’s the genuine love and compassion I have for the people in my life that God gave me.

When missions are tied to vocation and we see the people we love hurting, we point them to the only healing we know. Mission is rooted in the source of love, Jesus, not the program or pamphlet. That love doesn’t need to be cajoled into speaking. That love can’t shut up. That love is demonstrated every time you go back to the source of love, given in the Divine Service, because that love isn’t an idea, it takes shape. It’s a cross from Christ.

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

Catechesis

The Endurance of Faith

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 8, 2015

Rev. Michael Keith

I am a long distance runner. I run 5-6 times a week. I have run lots of half marathons and one full marathon (I am still trying to convince myself that I want to do that again!). To be a long distance runner you have to build up your endurance. This takes consistent training. You can’t just wake up one day and decide to run 26.2 miles without stopping. You won’t have the endurance. When I first started running I could barely run a mile, but I kept at it and slowly began to run further before thinking I was going to puke. I remember clearly when I finally ran my first 5 K without stopping-it seemed as if I had done the impossible. Now, after a few years of running and hundreds of miles behind me, a 5-K run is barely a warm up. My endurance has been built up. However, no matter how much I train, I eventually will need to stop. At some point, I will run out of energy. My endurance will fail.

Jesus says: “…the one who endures to the end will be saved” (Mark 13:13). How do you endure to the end? It is not by your own strength or endurance, for if you try to endure on your own, you will fail. You will not endure. You don’t have it in you. I don’t have it in me. My faith is too weak and my trust is too wavering. I must confess: Lord, I believe, help me in my unbelief (Mark 9:24).

The strength to endure comes not from inside of you, but from outside of you. It is Jesus, and only Jesus, who will give you the strength. “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He promised you in your baptism to be with you always and He is faithful to His promise. Through hearing God’s Word and receiving the Holy Supper Jesus gives you what you need to endure. So, let’s not play games. Runners run and Christians go to church. If the last time I ran was in 1986, could I honestly call myself a runner today? Christians come to church. They come here because this is where Jesus has promised to be for them: to feed and strengthen them to endure and to grant them forgiveness and life. He has not promised to do so anywhere else. So let’s stop pretending.

That is why the writer to the Hebrews says we should not neglect “to meet together, as is the habit of some” (Hebrews 10:25). Just as if you stop running you will lose your endurance and eventually cease to be a runner, so also if you stop receiving from Jesus you will lose your endurance of faith and run the very real risk of ceasing to be a Christian

Jesus, through His Church, continues to give out His gifts and His gifts He will keep you strong, He will give you the strength to endure to the end, for He is the One who endures. He is the One who endured the cross for you. He is the One who endured damnation to hell for you. He is the One who endured death for you. And because He endured to the end, He was victorious over sin, death, and the devil for you. And through your baptism, through His name being placed on you, you are in Christ. And because you are in Christ you will endure to the end and will be saved.

“…the one who endures to the end will be saved.” Who is this? That’s you. For you are in Christ Jesus. and He who has promised is faithful.

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

Catechesis

The Gerhardt Files: Lord, How Shall I Greet You, Stanza 2

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 7, 2015

Rev. Gaven Mize

Love is a difficult thing to understand in the age of American romance. When the movie Titanic came out all the girls in school loved it and all the boys hated it. Love it or hate it, it’s hard to forget about the scene where Jack easily could have fit on the floating door at the end. But that scene brings up a good point. Sure, the movie had romance, but it didn’t have much love. It had “love breaking down the barriers of the classes,” but, no incarnation.

Why has there become such a melding of romance and love? Many criminals have committed the most terrible crimes after “charming over” the opposite sex. Romance never offers the assurance of love. Romance is easy. Love is hard. I can’t tell you how many weddings I have attended and heard the 1 Corinthians 13 passage read with the silent implication that the husband’s love is always patient and the wife’s love is always kind, etc. That’s a clear cut case of misappropriating what the Bible is conveying. The reality is that the love in this 1 Corinthians text is about God’s love for us. God’s agape (one of the Greek words for love) is patient and kind. 

Love always comes with a sacrifice or else it isn’t love. Hymn writer Paul Gerhardt knocks this truth out of the park in the second stanza of O Lord How Shall I Meet You:

“Love caused Your incarnation, love brought You down to me;
Your thirst for my salvation procured my liberty.
O love beyond all telling, that led you to embrace;
In love all loves excelling our lost and fallen race.”

Love and awaiting the great humiliation of God being made flesh is what Advent is all about. And where love and the humiliation of God in the flesh is the sacrificial love of Jesus on the cross is never far away. The cross isn’t very romantic, but it is lovely. The cross is made lovely by the holy body of Jesus. Gerhardt makes this point abundantly clear. The love that placed Jesus on the cross for you is the same love that brought Jesus down to earth for you. Now we can’t fully comprehend this type of love. And no matter how many times you add your own name into the 1 Corinthians verse it’s still not about your patience, kindness, and the rest. But, it is about you. God has made it about you. That’s why He came to earth. He came to die and rise for you. That love, as Gerhardt says, is the love that has brought us into the embrace of God Himself.  

As we continue to prepare for Advent may we keep this stanza in the forefront of our minds. Love, not romance, was Christ’s motivation for your everlasting salvation. Love, not romance, is patient with you and that love flows from the wounds of Jesus and into the baptismal font. There, in that font we are forced to come face to face with that love. We are killed by that love, and are resurrected in that love. Ain’t love grand? So, no floating door is needed because you have been brought into the arc of the church. You don’t need to feel God’s tug on your heartstrings in the rain on some sappy movie set, because you wake up dripping in your baptismal grace every morning. Think on these things and know that God’s love is absolute. God’s love is for you. It’s what caused Jesus’ incarnation and brought Him down to you. Jesus’ thirst for our salvation has freed you from the bondage of sin, death, and the devil. We now lay in the embrace of God; we have been brought onto the dry ground on the other side.

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

Catechesis

The Inconceivable Gift of the Church

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 4, 2015

Rev. Randy Sturzenbecher

If you’re a fan of the movie The Princess Bride you might be familiar with the dialog between Vizzini and Inigo Montoya. Vizzini loved to use the interjection, “Inconceivable!” After hearing it a few times, Inigo responded to Vizzini, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

In our autonomous, personalized, find-what-fits-you culture, the word “church” is used many ways. I think Inigo might have found himself questioning that as well.

Our modern day understanding of church is driven by our consumer driven society. We have been trained-when we need something-to shop for the best value, the best price, the best product that meets what we need. Because of this mentality, when our perceived need is met, or we are dissatisfied with the service we have received, we move on.

When we talk about church in this manner churches are relegated to competing establishments, vying for a market share. They, in turn, create and recreate themselves to stay on the cutting edge in order to compete with everything else for a market share of your time and resources.

However, the church is not a manmade institution, it is Christ’s. He created it. He shed His holy and precious blood to cleanse it and make it His pure bride. He sustains it through His gifts of Word and Sacrament. He cares for it and calls you into it. The church is not a place where we go to find what we want, but where Christ gives us what He wants for us and what He knows we need. The church is the place where we gather as a community-His community. Whether we’re baby boomers, gen xers, millennials, singles, middle school, high school and college, widowed, married with children, or married without, we all gather into a community that desperately needs that which only Christ can give. We need the forgiveness that Jesus won for us on the cross. We need hope. We need peace. We need to know that our mistakes and sins can be and are forgiven by the blood of Christ shed on the cross. We need to be needed and wanted unconditionally. We need to find truth and guidance and understand our identity. We need the strength to live in His Truth.

The world around us accepts us when we fit the mold it demands. The church accepts us as we are: broken, discouraged, scared, needing guidance, discouraged, damaged and disillusioned. Our brokenness is the very reason Jesus died on the cross. Only the sinless Lamb of God could pay the price demanded by sin. Sin demands death. Sin brings destruction; it tears us down and pulls us away from all that is good. Sin deceives us into thinking our brokenness is actually healthy. Our sin is why Jesus died on the cross. He wants to restore us and make us new.

In His church, Christ Jesus does not take-He gives. He gives us complete and total forgiveness and does not judge you by your past. Christ Jesus gives us a community. In the waters of Holy Baptism we become part of the community of saints redeemed, washed and forgiven by the blood of Jesus shed on the cross. Christ Jesus gives us a family. This family gathers together in worship to receive the gifts that our loving Father gives. This family, our church family, cares for each other, prays for each other and carries one another’s burdens. We eat together at the feast prepared by Jesus, His very true Body and Blood in with and under the bread and wine, for us, for our strength and forgiveness. Christ gives us an identity that is not shaped or molded by the world but shaped by Jesus as He covers us in His holiness.

In Christ’s church we are a part of something much greater than ourselves; we are a part of Christ and His gifts He so willingly gives. His love, forgiveness, and promises for us are evident in every worship service.

And that, dear children, is the true meaning of “church.” It’s a glorious, inconceivable gift from our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.

Rev. Randy R Sturzenbecher is the pastor at Divine Shepherd Lutheran Church in Black Hawk, South Dakota.

Catechesis

Church with a Side of Ketchup

Post author By Higher Things
Post date December 1, 2015

Rev. Michael Keith

I like Heinz ketchup. It tastes good to me. I like it on hamburgers and hot dogs and grilled cheese sandwiches. I like it on my macaroni and cheese, but only on leftover macaroni and cheese. (It is a terrible sin to put ketchup on freshly made, creamy macaroni and cheese. That must be enjoyed in its natural state.) I like ketchup on a lot of things. Heinz ketchup. However, sometimes another brand of ketchup will end up on the table. This is a scary thing to deal with. I look at it suspiciously. I poke at it. I sniff it. I try to determine if it will hurt me. I wonder if it will be as good as Heinz? Could it be better? Doubtful. Will it leave me disappointed and sad? I don’t know-it’s not Heinz. With a bottle of Heinz ketchup I know what I am going to get. It’s what I want. It won’t let me down. It’s going to taste good on my food.

In some ways your church sign is like the name Heinz on a ketchup bottle. If I see that your sign has the name Lutheran (and in particular LCMS in the U.S. and LCC in Canada) I know what I should expect. In fact, that is why when I am traveling I will try to find a LCMS/LCC church to visit. The name represents something. It is telling me that at this church there are certain things taught and certain beliefs that are held to by the people there. That’s why I want to go there. I want to hear the Gospel. I want to hear the Law and Gospel properly distinguished and applied. I want to receive Holy Communion. I want to hear the Absolution pronounced by the pastor.

The name on a church is not just a name. It is a confession. It is telling you something about what is believed, taught, and confessed in that church. It’s important. It makes a difference. Just try swapping my ketchup bottle! It makes a difference! If I were to walk into a church building that had the name “Pentecostal” on the sign I would know what to expect and what not to expect. I would be very surprised (pleasantly so!) if I heard the Law and Gospel properly divided and applied there. I would be shocked to hear any teaching that encouraged infant baptism (since that is clearly rejected in Pentecostalism). The pastor would not pronounce holy Absolution because such a teaching is contrary to what is believed in that church body. The differences would be clear.

It does matter what church you attend and to which church you belong. It’s not just a name-it’s what you believe. Do you know why you belong to the church you attend? Do you know what is taught there? Or is it just a name to you? If you don’t know, go talk to your pastor. Ask questions. Find out what you believe and why you believe it. It’s important. That’s the role Confirmation is supposed to play in the church and in your life-so that you know what you believe and why you believe it.

The Lord has provided you with His Church so that you might receive His gifts. He gives you His gifts through His Word and Sacraments. He has called a pastor to serve you with those gifts. Sadly, the Church on earth is fractured and divided. It is a result of living in the fallen world. However, the Lord has and will preserve His Church through the ages. He has preserved it for you wherever you find the Word of God proclaimed and the Sacraments administered faithfully. Find such a church and joyfully receive the gifts Jesus has for you there!

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

Current Events

The French Connection: Meditation on Isaiah 27:1-13

Post author By Higher Things
Post date November 27, 2015

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.