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Catechesis

The Great Thanksgiving

Rev. Donavon Riley

All creation praises it’s Creator (Psalm 148). And yet, because God subjected creation “to futility” (Romans 8:20) because of sin, it cries out every day in hope for the greatness that is still to come. The most sumptuous Thanksgiving dinner, the most savory foods, the most exciting conversations-all these things stir up our appetite for more. They nudge us to imagine more stuff that lasts longer than a holiday feast. We can’t help ourselves. No matter how much hot apple cider, eggnog, or mulled wine we drink, it doesn’t slake our thirst…not really. They whet our appetite for more. As soon as we push ourselves away from the table-while we look around for the nearest piece of furniture that promises a nap before the invasion of the leftovers begins-our hearts are in motion. By the time we wake up, bleary-eyed, dry-mouthed, the taste of the feast has faded from our mouths. The great things they inspired in us-the laughter, the delight, the joy-have escaped. The world is solid. It can be picked up with our forks, chewed, swallowed. But it struggles in us. It declares itself a pilgrim in our digestive tracts and reminds us that our hunger can only be satisfied for a moment. Every meal, especially holiday feasts, reminds us of what we are about.

Why do we ask, “Will you marry me?” Why do we fuse paint to canvas? Why do we lose sleep over a smoked turkey? Why do we go for after-dinner walks in the woods? Because we delight in God’s created stuff. We become like children again when we wonder at creation’s goodness. And still, no matter how good the food or conversation, we feel like we are strangers in a strange place. We’re out of step with what’s real, as if there’s got to be a better version of this family, this feast, this holiday somewhere else. For Christians, we appreciate that feeling of strangeness, a nostalgia for what hasn’t happened yet. We know why we hunger and thirst for that “somewhere else” to come to us at the last. Family, food, special days all point to the New Jerusalem. In Baptism we are given appetites, not to devour the world and forget about it, but to taste its goodness and hunger for what can satisfy all of us one time for all time.

When we pray at table, “Bless us Father, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bountiful goodness through Jesus Christ our Lord,” we acknowledge not only what’s been laid out in front of us on disposable aluminum trays, in Pyrex bowls, and ceramic pie pans. We express our desire to sit at a table where grace is received with greater thanks than Aunt Debbie’s cheesy mashed potatoes-where we may drink enough heavenly wine to drown envy, pride, resentment, bitterness, and shame; where we rejoice that dry turkey meat and runny cranberry sauce are replaced by the Body and Blood of the Word who created and recreated us, and where unsettled men and women, who struggle to escape their birthright, are baked into one joyous family in Christ Jesus. One excessive, laugh out loud, endless holiday party. The feast of the Lamb without end, where singing goes on into all hours of the night, and old jokes never feel worn out, where even the sun, moon, and stars howl in laughter at the telling.

For now, we must be satisfied with a foretaste of the eternal feast to come. At the Lord’s Supper, all creation praises its Creator. But because of sin, we eat and drink in hope for our final satisfaction at the Last Day. That doesn’t mean sin has ruined family and feasts for us. It hasn’t. Creation is good. That’s what God said, so that’s the way of it, even if Grandma Clements smells like a wet cat. The way to the eternal party then doesn’t run around God’s good creation, but through it. At the Supper of the Lamb the way is made straight and true for us. We aren’t saved so that we can run amok, trampling creation’s goodness under foot. God made us to be given to, from Him for each other today.

When He brings us to His table, He gathers us to himself, His beloved “given-to.” We are called to the party to eat well, to drink and rejoice, to love and serve each other as we have been loved and served by our heavenly Father. At the Lord’s Table it is revealed to us that all creation is the gorgeousness of God’s Fatherly heart made solid. And from His table all our feasts, every gravy-smeared plate, every wine stain on the couch, every pie crumb ground into the carpet, will cause us to give thanks for the giftedness of creation. Those things remind us again that in this life all of our thank-yous are but a foretaste of the Great Thanksgiving to come — the Supper of the Lamb without end. Amen.

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

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Life Issues

A Christian Identity Crisis?

Rev. Timothy Winterstein

In the movie Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, Greg Gaines has made it through three years of high school without being associated with any single group. He’s not a jock, but he gives the basketball players in their letter jackets high-fives as he passes. He’s not a goth, but they nod at him from behind their leather and metal and eyeliner when he goes into school. He’s not a nerd or a geek, but they respect him for his nerdy tendencies. This ability to keep himself from being singled out as different, he thinks, is the key to surviving high school.

When I was in high school, I was not Greg Gaines. My high school identity was formed by the fact that I was a Christian. I fought for our Christian club to have official school recognition; I prayed in public with other Christians; I went to concerts with Christian bands and tried to demonstrate that they were just as cool as what everyone else was listening to (some were and some were definitely not) and I picked abortion for essays and debate class way too often. But even though my high school identity was shaped by the “right” group and the “right” issues, it wasn’t an identity that could sustain me. People didn’t admire me or hate me for my stand on things; they just groaned whenever I had to state publicly what my essay or story was going to be about. I was pegged as part of a group, period.

Maybe you can relate to me, or maybe you can relate to Greg Gaines. Maybe you’ve worked hard to form and shape your own identity; what other people think you are is the mask you’ve created for them to see. Or maybe your identity has been formed by others: You did something you regret, and everyone has pegged you as this or that, part of this group or of that group. Or maybe it’s a combination of both.

For three years Greg Gaines managed to keep his identity from being shaped and formed by any single high school group. But in his senior year, Greg’s mom forces him to become friends with Rachel, a girl who has just been diagnosed with cancer. At first, neither she nor he wants to be friends, because they both know it’s artificial. Not only that, but as soon as he starts to visit Rachel, things begin to happen so that, one after another, he no longer has good relationships with the jocks, or the goths, or the nerds. His self-made identity can’t sustain him, and it takes that breakdown of his ability to move among the groups in his high school to teach him that there is something more important than simply surviving.

The fact is, each of our identities, whether self-made or imposed on us from outside, is as fragile as life. None of them will survive, and there is only one way to avoid an identity crisis-an identity that cannot be broken because it doesn’t belong to us. It’s an identity that depends on one thing and one thing only: Jesus Christ and His death and resurrection for you. That identity is your baptismal identity, the holy Name that marks you for all eternity. “In the morning when you get up,” Luther says, “make the sign of the holy cross and say” the Name. Because no matter whether today will be good or bad, you belong to the God of the universe. “In the evening when you go to bed,” do the same. Because no matter whether today was good or bad, your sins are forgiven and Christ remains your Savior and Lord. And He is always faithful, always righteous, always the Savior of every individual of every group in every place. People may hate you or love you; your mistakes may go viral; your friends may change because you bear Christ’s Name. This is the only identity in the world that cannot fail or be changed, because it’s not yours. It’s Christ’s. And He gives it to you, marked as you are with His cross in the water by the Word. Indeed: “go joyfully to your work,” and “go to sleep…in good cheer.” You are Christ’s and He is yours.

Rev. Timothy Winterstein serves as pastor at Faith Lutheran Church, Wenatchee, Washington.

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Life Issues

Holy Marriage

Rev. Christopher Raffa

“This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” – Genesis 2:23

God’s Word is a creating Word. It is a Word of blessing which, thanks to the faithfulness of God, never ceases to have effect. It also lays itself open-like the One who has no place to lay His head in this world-to misjudgment and distortion and is greeted with ingratitude by human beings. The ancient account of Genesis 1 and 2 is not foremost about individual characters-the man Adam and his wife Eve-but is the history of every human being; it is the history of every man and woman. Although it’s an old story, it’s a new story-our story. “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them. God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion.'” And, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden.” This indeed, is God’s first word to human beings.

We often view these well known passages as commandments. That may be true, but in actuality this is a word that gives permission. In the beginning there wasn’t the chaos of an undefined nature-not the “thou shall not” of morality, but the Word that gives permission. It is a promise valid for all, a gift: the granting of room to live-of room for work and common humanity: “You may take and eat of everything.” We receive this gift of life together with the granting of room and time to live in such a way that we are addressed at the same time with the words “You may eat of everything.”

Marriage is the granting of room to live. At the same time it is a granting of room to live in time. Such a gift is not stagnant; it can and must be given shape. Marital life must be contoured, molded. So the idea of human beings as “architects” of where they live is important. However, we ourselves do not build the “house” of the world and our own lives; we are only, so to speak, “interior designers.” That’s because it’s not us who speak the first word. Rather, we are spoken to, and it comes from outside of us. Yes, we as human beings can respond since we are the ones who are being addressed by such a word. We respond by receiving the gift and praising the Giver of all good things. The praise of God doesn’t take place simply in one’s heart, or even less, in some sort of abstract personal encounter with God. Rather it comes about in our sense of awe as the world we encounter is opened up for us by Him who created it. Furthermore it comes in our wonder at the sight of our fellow creatures, especially in that jubilant fellowship of man and wife, as spoken by Adam to Eve, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”

This fellowship is more significant, more beautiful, than any life lived unto self. It shows itself in mutual conversation, in mutual acknowledgement, and as the New Testament teaches us, in mutual submission (Philippians 2:3; Ephesians 5:21), in love where each one obliges the other. No doubt the biblical phrase “mutual submission,” is completely misunderstood and misapplied in our day. In all reality, this mutual submission, where love obliges the other is the secret of the adaptability and vitality of a good marriage. When a marriage allows time and room for living this makes possible a balance between nearness and distance. In mutual submission there comes into play a unity for which man and woman have come into existence. “Thus they are no longer two, but one flesh.” This is reinforced by Jesus (Mark 10:8) and is consistent with St. Paul, “The wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does; likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does” (1 Corinthians 7:4). The importance of being one flesh cannot be stressed enough. Marriage is not a kind of harnessing together of two individuals, a ball and chain or any other lighthearted jokes we like to use about marriage these days. No, it is a third, new entity-one flesh, one distinct and substantial whole. In this “one flesh” lies the “great mystery” of Ephesians 5:32.

Love obliges the other and mutually acknowledges; this fellowship precedes any and all individualizing and has its basis in God’s Word: “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper.” Here man is granted the privilege of hearing an unambiguous word that pulls him from the whirlpool of multiple possibilities and places him on solid ground. It is the word and will of God that man not be alone. God does not want a soloist; He wants man from the very beginning and to all eternity to be a fellow human being. Don’t misunderstand me, this relates not only to marriage but also to unmarried people as well. For now, we will leave unexplored that mutual life of unmarried people. We must assert that the fellowship of man and woman does not originate in an act of the human will; it precedes that act and only then grants it room to be free (Ephesians 2:10).

Thus, if a man and woman wish a Christian marriage service, then they are publicly confessing that they do not attribute their fellowship to themselves, do not owe it to their own action and cannot themselves afford it any guarantee. The public confession as a confession of poverty lies at the heart of the service of worship in the marriage service. It is extremely important that it is a confession, rather than the signing of a contract or the public announcement of such a contract. The man and woman standing before the altar of God and His people are professing allegiance to God’s holy and steadfast order of marriage. And this order is not primarily law, but a gift. Confessing their uniting together as a gift from God, they are now confessing it as something they themselves have not ordained, nor will they ever control it. So, what counts is recognizing and acknowledging the word and will of God: He has brought us together and has given and spoken us together. We cannot see marriage as fundamentally a result of our own will, much less a simple contract which could later be dissolved by mutual agreement.

‘From the beginning of creation, “God made them male and female.” “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate” (Mark 10:6-9). This quality of the marriage union-that it is not under the control of the married couple-means that it is entered into wholeheartedly and without reservation, and of course means that there can be no term set to the duration of the marriage; “till death do us part.” Be mindful however, this doesn’t mean or imply a limitation placed on freedom, but rather quite the opposite. It is the bedrock of the ultimate development of freedom: its pinnacle.

Rev. Christopher Raffa is the associate pastor of Pilgrim Evangelical Lutheran Church in West Bend, Wisconsin. You can email him at revcraffa@att.net.

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Catechesis

The Small Catechism: From the Cradle to the Grave

Rev. Christopher Raffa

“On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate” – Psalm 145:5

Many things coalesced and urged Martin Luther to write his catechetical material. As early as July 1516 Luther preached on the catechism, i.e., Ten Commandments, Creed, and Lord’s Prayer. By 1522, the practice had been established in Wittenberg of preaching on the Catechism four times a year. In 1524, Pastor Nicholas Hausmann had requested catechetical material from Luther to be used with the common folk. Luther also sought to settle a dispute that had arisen between John Agricola and Phillip Melanchthon concerning the place of the law in the Christian life (see A Reader’s Edition of the Book of Concord, p.521ff). Indeed, the greatest reason for Luther’s writing of the Small Catechism was to address the maladies diagnosed in the Saxon Visitation of 1528. In his preface to the Small Catechism, Luther writes, “The deplorable, miserable conditions which I recently observed when visiting the parishes have constrained and pressed me to put this catechism of Christian doctrine into this brief, plain, and simple form. How pitiable, so help me God, were the things I saw: The common man, especially in the villages, knows practically nothing of Christian doctrine, and many of the pastors are almost entirely incompetent and unable to teach. Yet all the people are supposed to be Christians, have been baptized, and receive the Holy Sacrament, even though they do not know the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, or The Ten Commandments and live like poor animals of the barnyard and pigpen. What these people have mastered, however, is the fine art of tearing all Christian liberty to shreds.”

Thus, it is undeniable that Luther’s Small Catechism arose out of a specific historical context and it reflects that context in many ways. Yet, the pattern of sound words, the teaching of Christian doctrine, which is God’s Word alone, never grows old or outdated in its killing and making God’s people into a holy and forgiven people. Simply put, the Small Catechism in its explanation of the Christian faith and life remains a relevant text for all times and all places. It matters little whether you learned its language by heart from the 1943 or 1986 edition. It’s of little significance whether you learned its language of Law and Gospel in your early years, your middle years, or your sunset years. But what is of great significance is that in your journey as a catechumen of Christ in this life you continue to receive God’s Word of Law and Gospel to teach you over and over again, to remind you that the begging and receiving of Christ’s gifts is the rhythm of the Christian life-the seasick voyage of repentance and faith that will finally end in the harbor of God’s eternal salvation.

It is this reality of the Small Catechism and its importance for the Christian’s life that makes it such an important tool for teaching of God’s people. Yet, I fear that what Luther saw in 1528 in the Saxon Visitation is, at least in some way, what we now experience. In the dawn of the 21st century the Small Catechism is losing the vital role that it has played for many centuries. Often it is the case that adults who come to the church know very little, if anything about Christian doctrine, nor do they have a desire to be catechized, to sit at the feet of Jesus, to learn from the pastor as from Jesus who sent him into midst of His flock. The church has a mountain to climb as it surveys the dissonance that exists between child and parents. For how can the church expect, when parents have never really engaged the basics of Christian doctrine, that the children of these parents will be formed in the faith at home. At the same time, the breakdown of a biblically literate and catechized church falls on the pastors who downplay, supplant, and replace the Catechism as the primary text for catechetical instruction-especially for adults. James A. Nestingen sums up nicely the barren catechetical landscape, “It (Small Catechism) is no longer the working paradigm, encompassing the witness of the Scripture in the language of daily experience to serve preaching and reflection on the church’s faith and mission.”

At the same time, I must say that there are signs of catechetical life in the church. There are those in our church who resolutely continue to teach the basics of Christian doctrine; to form a Lutheran mind that it centered in the basics of confession of sin and the reception of Christ’s gifts through bible, hymnal and catechism. The church and its teaching are never contemporary, for it deals in that which has stood the test of time, fights against the gates of hell and draws its strength and resolve from Christ who is its body and life and who confesses, “This is most certainly true.” This certainty is given and sustained by Christ, whose sanctuary we inhabit so as to receive daily the comfort of sins forgiven and a blessed death granted by His death and resurrection. Catechesis is a lifelong endeavor. Martin Luther knew this and so he placed within the Small Catechism all that we must hear as unbeliever and believer, as sinner and saint. In recitation of the Ten Commandments we come face to face with the sinful nature that resides in our hearts and minds. In the recitation of the Creed we are given the Savior who has redeemed us, that is to say, bought us back from the devil’s grasp, “not with gold or sliver, but with his holy precious blood and His innocent suffering and death.” In the recitation and reception of His holy sacraments we are given the gifts of forgiveness life and salvation purchased and won by our Lord Jesus Christ so that we would one day rise from the dead, “just as He has risen from the dead lives and reigns to all eternity.” Nestingen summarizes it concisely, “The Small Catechism, in chart and pamphlet form, quickly became one of the most important documents of the Lutheran Reformation. It moved the village altar into the family kitchen, literally bringing instruction in the faith home to the intimacies of family life.”

Rev. Christopher Raffa is the associate pastor of Pilgrim Evangelical Lutheran Church in West Bend, Wisconsin. You can email him at revcraffa@att.net.

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Catechesis

A World Full of Lies

Bethany Woelmer

We journey through a world full of lies. Though we sometimes think we are on the right path, it pulls us into a trap of deception and veils its own ugliness as we fall for Satan’s lies, time and time again. Satan tells us, “You can hide your sin. You don’t need the Gospel. You can climb to reach God everywhere. Truth is relative. Follow your heart. Wealth leads to happiness. Man is worth more through success and glory. You can worship God by your work. You can also find Him in your mind, heart, or hands.” And the list of lies goes on and on.

As humans we are constantly using our reason and senses. Although these things gifts from God, they have been tainted with sin and naturally cling to the wisdom of man that belongs only to this world and that has taken us captive since our fall into sin. This wisdom gives us many ways in which we can find God, yet the lie obscured in all of this is found within those deceitful words that tell us that we can actually find God with our reason and strength. We fall for this lie daily, because we are never fully satisfied with the truth that we are worthless in attaining salvation by our will. We desire glory, strength, and power and are content only with the natural knowledge of God that reveals nothing about who God is and what He has done for our salvation.

The wisdom of man is blind to that which has been revealed from God, whose hidden nature is revealed through His Word. While we hide from God to deny the truth of our sin, God hides His complete nature from us in order to reveal the true nature of Himself in His Word as delivered to us by the cross. Man’s wisdom seeks glory, strength, and success, while God’s wisdom creates truth and life through suffering, weakness, and even death. God is hidden in suffering, bringing life out of death, strength out of weakness, glory out of the cross, and wisdom out of folly. To the wisdom of man, the cross is foolishness, but to those who possess the wisdom of God through faith, it is the power of God by which all are saved.

Satan uses words to form many disguises to hide the truth. As the father of lies, he works to lead us away from this Word made flesh. While the wisdom of this age always changes according to our senses, the Word of the Lord remains forever. It is the strength by which the Church remains steadfast, and it is the root by which we flourish with love towards the neighbor. This love, as evident by God’s revelation to us, is best seen in suffering, because out of the depths of our weakness God pulls us out of the dirtiness of sin, cleanses us with the water of Holy Baptism, and clothes us with the robe of Christ’s righteousness. He does this by coming to us as a man, becoming sin for us, and suffering the punishment we deserve. God’s wisdom is manifested in the person of Jesus Christ, and in Him we are rooted in the truth of God’s Word that never changes and endures forever.

As we are swept away by our reason and senses that lead us away from God’s Word, we can take comfort in Christ who is our true leader on our path to heaven:

Blessed is the man whose path is
Led by God both day and night.
He treads not on paths of wicked
Sinners who despise God’s Light.
But upon God’s Law he ponders,
And with joy his heart obtains
Faith that hears of sin’s condition
as God’s righteousness he gains.

Blessed is a tree whose roots are
Planted by the stream of life,
Yielding fruit within each season,
Ending not amidst all strife.
For God’s Word is ever-springing
With abundant gifts of grace.
While like chaff the wicked tremble,
God feeds us in His embrace.

Blessed is the man whose path is
Righteousness that comes from God.
He is led by Christ who walked
The path of sin; for us He trod.
He was mocked, despised by sinners,
Yet He conquered death and won,
Granting us our life in Heaven:
God’s path for us in His Son.

Bethany Woelmer is a member at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Topeka, Kansas, and a student in the Master’s of Church Music program at the University of Kansas.

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Life Issues

Marriage, Paul Gerhardt Style

Rev. Gaven Mize

On October 17th I married my best friend. Ashlee Saleeby became Ashlee Mize forever. It was surprisingly easy to make happen. Ashlee and I went to the Register of Deeds, waited about 15 minutes, and left with a piece of paper for the presiding pastor and witnesses to sign and we were done. Not very romantic, is it? And so it is with the state. Still, as I left the plain yellow-colored municipal building with my future bride I couldn’t help but think, “Okay, now we are ready. Now we can start forever.” But, I was wrong. There was still more to do. We had to be joined together at the Altar of God’s own Son to exchange our final vows.

So, we needed a liturgy. It was tedious, but meaningful work, yet still not very romantic. Truth be told, I wasn’t really going for romantic; I was just wanting to marry the woman whom I knew I wanted to married the day I met her. So, I asked a bunch of my friends to help me with the liturgy and it was pretty self-explanatory until it came to the hymn. And that is where the romance came in, but not the romance that we have been forced to swallow in sometimes poorly crafted, yet over-budgeted romantic comedies. This was the romance that captured the rib of Adam.

And so there we were. My beloved Ashlee held one side of the hymn and I held the other and we began to sing.

“O, Jesus Christ! how bright and fair, The state of holy marriage where,
Thy blessing rich is given, What gracious gifts Thou dost bestow,
What streams of blessing ever flow, Down from Thy holy heaven,
When they, True stay, To Thee ever, Leave Thee never, Whose troth plighted,
In one life have been united.” (O, Jesus Christ How Bright and Fair, Paul Gerhardt)

Ashlee, my rib, was a reminder to me of Eve being taken out of the side of Adam. From the side of man came woman, as from the pierced side of Christ flowed His bride, the Church. That church was built on the blood and water that flowed from the riven side of our Savior. Christ, our Savior, would now make two into one, for us to be in the church together, to receive the gifts together, to herald the incarnation and passion together, to die to sin and be risen in our baptisms together. The two would become one flesh.

Perhaps there isn’t much romance in the Nicholas Sparks kind of way in God knocking out Adam and taking His rib to create his wife. And there certainly doesn’t seem to be any romance in God being nailed to a crippled cross and having the Church ripped from His side. In this hymn, Gerhardt reminds us of what romance actually is:

“…Jewel, All hail! Husband’s treasure! House’s pleasure! Crown of honour! On His throne God thinketh on her.”

As my bride and I held the pages of that hymn it struck me: As surely as Christ is reigning over the binding of Ashlee and me into one, so does He watch over His own Bride, the church. And the wonder of all wonders is that we are His own treasure and pleasure. We are His jewel that was polished by His own blood. We are the house where we are fed His Body and Blood for His good pleasure. We, as despicable and dirty as our wedding dress may be, have been washed clean by the very one who binds us to Himself: Jesus, the Christ, our groom.

So, there we stood, my now wife and I, as the shadow of Christ and His bride darkened around us and the reflection of the union of God and man. And then out of nowhere it was my turn to speak: “With this ring I marry you, my worldly goods I give to you, and with my body I honor you.” I spoke those words with the confidence of the one who placed them on my lips, the one who first honored us with His body: crucified, resurrected, and now seated at the right hand of the Father. And the next day as I sat with my wife during the Divine Service and walked up to the Altar to receive His Body and Blood for the forgiveness of our sins with my wife I knew Ashlee and I had been grafted to a greater vine than ourselves, long ago in our baptism. God’s “I do” is still proclaimed from our foreheads. Then the “romance” was clear; we were meant to love each other as we have been loved by Christ, who gave His life for us.

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

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Life Issues

Hear Our Illness, and Help Us

Lydia Perling

Sometimes pastors have the tendency to treat mental illnesses as sin or personal failing, instead of treating them as illnesses. There is a stigma against mental illness that makes it into a personal failing. As soon as you tell someone you’re depressed or have anxiety they start telling you to just be happy. I’ve heard things like “You just need to have a better outlook.” and “Just smile more and it’ll all be okay.” And while that’s nice, it’s not helpful.

We come to you looking for comfort and safety, looking for the forgiveness of sins and the comfort of Christ to get us through life. And we need you to give us that. As pastors you are called to pray for healing and to guide us through life. And when you tell us that the anxiety we have is sinful, the church becomes an unsafe place for us. We are going to question whether the church’s teaching and Christ’s forgiveness are for us, and we might even leave the church. When you tell people that their illnesses are their fault and that they just need to stop being ill, you aren’t telling them about the great physician, Jesus.

God can and will heal us the same way He heals those with physical illness. Your help is giving us the tools to keep going, the reminder that Jesus is taking care of us, and that even when we doubt Him, He has still saved us.

Yes, mental illnesses happen because we live in a sinful world, but they aren’t sin in the same way that physical illnesses aren’t sin. Pastors can help break the stigma and comfort us in the same way they help physically ill people.

Hear our illness and help us.

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

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Life Issues

Blogs and Life

Rev. Eric Brown

“For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:8

Hi. We’ve probably never met in person. Maybe we’ve bumped across each other in social media or somewhere else on the Internet before — and you’re reading what I’ve written now — which really is sort of cool from my perspective. Still, chances are we don’t really know each other. And yet, we’re able to share thoughts, ideas, talk about sin and forgiveness and all the things that Christ Jesus has done for us.

Technology, it’s a wonderful thing. It can make us seem closer than ever before. I moved recently from Oklahoma to Illinois, but I still chat with a lot of my Oklahoma friends everyday; Thomas Lemke and I can still do a podcast (Gospeled Boldly, here at Higher Things, you should listen) even though we are almost 1000 miles apart. And over Skype, I’ve seen his son, my godson. He was born after I moved but I still get to see him.

The Church has always used technology: Paul’s epistles were high tech back in the day. His epistles (just the Greek way of saying “letters”) were the best way he had to communicate. Even as he is stuck in prison in Rome, Paul was able to proclaim the love of Christ Jesus to folks all over the place.

Yet, even though there was that distant communication that Paul and the Philippians cherished, have you ever noted how the Paul’s epistles tend to end? Here’s the end of Philippians (4:21-23): “Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The brothers who are with me greet you. All the saints greet you, especially those of Caesar’s household. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.” Even while he’s wrapped up in the technology of the day, Paul isn’t alone. The Philippians aren’t alone. Rather, they are in community.

One of the fantastic truths of the Christian faith is that Christ Jesus came in the flesh, in a body. Jesus is a real human being. Jesus didn’t chose to just beam feel-good-spirit-waves at us; when He came to save us He came down from heaven to be with us. Up close. He saw Peter face to face. He ate with James. He laughed with John.

Indeed, even as great as technology is, as great (or lousy) as blog posts and podcasts are, as wonderful Epistles are, Christ still comes to you in a physical, tangible way in the service — in His Supper. He comes to you bodily. And here’s the neat thing: He comes to you (plural), to your church, your congregation. Paul greets the saints in Philippi with the brothers who are with him. Our physical Lord Jesus places us in physical congregations, and calls and gathers us together with other people.

I’m glad you’re reading this post, even though I’ve probably never met you in person. But there’s something even better. Jesus comes to you in His Supper, and not just you by yourself, but you in a congregation, with other, real people. Enjoy His gifts along with those fellow saints. You get to eat the Supper with them. You get to sing with them. You get to say hi to them face to face. Enjoy the community that God has called you into.

Eric Brown is pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church, Herscher, Illinois.

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Catechesis

Drowned And Togethered in Christ

Cassie Makela

Hiding behind the mask of tolerance, the old Adam bullies people on social media. He kills conversations with that dreaded four letter accusation: hate. If you’ve ever posted anything about God’s design for marriage, sexuality, or male and female, the old Adam has probably pounced on you. But, you are a Christian. The Holy Spirit has given you His Word. He’s made you-the new man in Christ-ready for this.

But are you, Christian, ready to confront a topic, like LGBT issues, on a more personal front? What would you say if a Christian friend confessed to you that she wrestles with same-sex attraction? How would you respond if your brother told you he couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that he is more like a girl than a boy?

The Christian church understandably grieves when our culture encourages-at times-demands us to embrace homosexuality and transgenderism. But these are also painful thorns that our brothers and sisters in Christ bear in their flesh. They are Christians, yes: baptized into Christ; beloved children of our heavenly Father. And at the same time, we are all still in the flesh; the old Adam still hangs round our necks. Because of this, they may plead with God for years to remove these temptations. They believe God created male and female, and created them for each other. In His infinite wisdom, God’s answer to them may remain, “My grace is sufficient for you…”

Into this struggle enters the Master of Lies. Satan, the Accuser-the old Adam’s landlord. He knows he has no power over those who have been baptized into Christ. Instead, he must entice YOU to reject the gift freely given to you. First, he convinces you that you should keep your temptation hidden in the darkness. Others will shun you, he says, if they find out who you really are. He deceives you into thinking you are strong enough to resist this on your own, and that works at first. But after a time-months, years, or maybe even decades-you let down your guard. That’s when the Great Tempter launches an all-out attack on your Achilles heel. What is His ultimate goal? It’s either to entice you to do something so repulsive that you doubt God’s forgiveness is for you, or to lead you into a pattern of unrepentant sin that eventually hardens your heart to the Gospel altogether. You slip a little, and he seduces you to sin more, to keep that blunder hidden. He knows that light is the enemy of darkness. The last thing he wants is for you to reveal your secret temptation and confess your sin to another who can name it, forgive, and set you free to be a child of God.

As children of God, we often speak of witness, mercy, and life together. And when we speak of life together, we are pointing to the Gospel promise that raises people dead in sin to new life together with the whole body of Christ on earth. This promise announces to us that we do not need to earn God’s favor-a task we could never accomplish, even if we dedicated every waking moment to it. No, Christ won that favor for us, once time for all time. In His gruesome death and glorious resurrection we are set free from earning God’s favor. Through the Gospel promise and the Spirit’s work we are freed from worry, guilt and doubt to love and serve each other for what we are: the family of God.

In this family, the church, God’s Spirit works to drown the Old Adam. He raises up each day a new man in Christ who resists Satan’s lies and who clings to God’s baptismal promises. In baptismal grace and peace, the new man in Christ confesses the old Adam’s sins and receives absolution from a pastor in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The new man in Christ hears God’s Word spoken as life-giving promise to and for him. Together with the whole body of Christ he eats Christ’s Body and drinks Christ’s Blood. And in this body, when his old Adam flesh struggles against the Spirit’s work in the lonely darkness of pride and shame, the family of God is ready to walk with him in the light of Christ’s resurrection hope. Gospeled. Spirited. Togethered.

Cassie Makela currently attends St. John’s Lutheran Church in Port Washington, WI, with her husband and five children.

Categories
Catechesis

Ordinary Saints

Rev. Christopher Raffa

“Lutheran theology left no place for a wonder-worker or a super-human intercessor; the Reformation saint’s sole task was to point to God through word and example.” (Robert Kolb, For All The Saints, p. 138)

St. Vincent (2014) is an American comedy-drama film. It stars Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy. The movie is not for everyone. It has material that is not suitable for young children. And it certainly doesn’t conform to the popular and pietistic belief that a “saint” is a wonder worker, flawless human being, or a super-human intercessor. Vincent is a Vietnam War veteran and retiree living in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. He is a grumpy alcoholic who smokes and gambles. His wife, Sandy, developed Alzheimer’s many years ago and no longer recognizes him. Yet he still cares for her, doing her laundry and visiting her weekly. Maggie and her son, Oliver, are his new neighbors. Maggie, forced to work long hours, has no choice but to leave Oliver in the care of Vincent. A strange friendship develops between this odd couple. Vincent brings Oliver along on all his routine stops: race track, strip club, and the local dive bar. Vincent helps Oliver to grow to become a man, while Oliver beings to see in Vincent something that no one else sees: an ordinary saint.

One day Oliver is sitting in his new 7th grade classroom at a Roman Catholic school. Oliver’s teacher is a tolerant priest who accepts all “faiths” in his classroom. When the priest asks Oliver to lead the class in morning prayer, Oliver responds, “I think I am Jewish.” The catholic priest indifferently responds, “Good to know.” At one point the priest asks the classroom of kids, “What is a saint?” The kids rattle off a few names, the principle one being, St. Jude. But then the priest asks if they know any modern-day saints? This got Oliver thinking. Through highs and lows of their relationship, Oliver begins to see Vincent as a broken yet strangely sanctified saint. Oliver decides to do his presentation on Vincent. He opens his presentation with these words, “On the surface, one might think that my saint is the least likely candidate for sainthood. He is not a happy person. He doesn’t like people and not many like him. He’s grumpy, he’s angry, he’s mad at the world, and I am sure full of regrets. He drinks too much, he smokes, he gambles, curses, lies, and cheats. And he spends a lot of time with the Lady of the Night. That’s what you see at first glance. If you dig deeper you see a man beyond his faults.” Oliver goes on in his presentation to paint the picture of a man broken by the world, by his sin, by his flesh, yet redeemed as one who carries out a life of courage, compassion, and self-sacrifice. I would encourage you to watch the full clip of Oliver’s presentation. You can find it by clicking here.

Sainthood: It’s a squirrelly thing. Its definition is far more flexible than our minds are willing to admit or our eyes opened to seeing. November 1st in the church year marks the Festival of All Saints. The word “saint” comes from the Latin word sanctus, which simply means “holy.” By your Baptism into Christ you are declared a saint, a holy child of God, washed clean of all sin. All Saints Day is a day not of your own making but rather of the Lord’s doing. All Saints Day is a day which the Father has made by His Son’s all cleansing fleshly Word, “I forgive you all your sins.” In this proclamation, He dresses His bride, the church, in white, in His Word that redeems and renews all things. This is the day that we confess that Lord has joined in His blood the one church, the una sancta, militant and triumphant, we who struggle down here below and those in glory who shine above in the heavens. We must understand: The Word displaces all our errant thoughts concerning the saints of the holy bridegroom. At the time of the Reformation it was Martin Luther’s “emphasis on the Word of God, active in human history, that changed the definition of God’s power and how it works in the world. No longer could mythical heroes displaying their own power command attention; those, rather, who had announced and pronounced God’s saving power in his Word throughout Christian history became the new heroes of the faith. What was really important to Luther, however, was not the hero but the Word, as it brought God’s power to bear on human life” (Kolb, For All The Saints, p. 16. Italics mine).

The Festival of All Saints brings together remembrance and confession, example and gift. We remember the lives of the saints and martyrs even as we confess their existence and their life hidden beneath Christ who is the life of all the living. If every Sunday is a “little Easter,” it must also be said that every saint’s day is a “miniature Sunday.” The death and resurrection of Christ are celebrated in the lives and deaths of the saints and martyrs. Remembrance, thanksgiving, redemption, and fulfillment all come together as the Word of God testifies, “these are the ones coming out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 7:14).

Like Vincent, we are all ordinary saints. Broken yet blessed. Flawed yet forgiven. Sinful yet sanctified. Holy yet hypocrites. The world only knows and sees saints made of gold and silver, of extraordinary lives lived beyond the call of duty. Christ and His church knows and sees saints made of water and Word, bread and Word, wine and Word, whose lives are lived in this Word and this Word alone. “In our life, when we are exercised by the Word in the church and use of the sacraments, we are also plagued by various trials, and our faith is tested like gold in a furnace. This is true saintliness, because of which we are called and are saints. For the Holy Spirit sanctifies through Word taken hold of through faith, and he mortifies the flesh by means of sufferings and troubles, in order that the saints may be quickened and may present their bodies as a living sacrifice” (Kolb, For All The Saints, p. 20).

Rev. Christopher Raffa is Associate Pastor of Pilgrim Evangelical Lutheran Church in West Bend, Wisconsin.