Monday, March 28, 2011

One Greater Than Jacob

T Lent 3 – March, 27th 2011 T
Text: Exodus 17:1-7; John 4:5-26

In the Name of the Father and of the T Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.
           
            Today’s Gospel reading feels a little like an Old Testament déjà vu.  Anytime you want to know where to meet people, you go to the local watering hole.  It’s how Isaac met Rebekkah; Jacob met Rachel and now centuries later at a different well - weary from travel, Jesus came to satisfy His thirst at the well that Jacob had given for his sons to drink.  Jesus - the One to whom sun, moon and stars bow down, the One whom fields and trees truly adore - was thirsty. 
            Jesus knows what it means to thirst – and that’s no metaphor.  Jesus really became hungry and tired and later bled and suffered and died.  He really thirsted because thirst is real.  And in the same way, Jesus didn’t come to bear metaphorical sins but real ones – because you don’t have metaphorical sin, but real sin.  And greater still, a real Savior.  For this is not the last time Jesus would thirst.
            But, Jesus wasn’t the only one in need of a thirst quenching drink.  He met a woman from Samaria who had come to draw water.

              It’s almost like He’s courting, although not in a tawdry, Davinci-Code-conspiracy kind of way.  Rather, Jesus comes with love - divine, sacrificial, merciful, crucified-and-risen-for-you love - for the Samaritan woman and all who are far off.  Jesus is the gift of God for that Samaritan woman and you, His Bride, the Church.  That is what He does best – He gives to the point of denying Himself even the slightest bit of water to wet his whistle.  For the same living water Jesus gave to Ms. Samaritan, He gives to you. 

            Jesus asks for what we – and the woman –should be asking for.  “Give me a drink.”  Jesus wastes no time lecturing Ms. Samaritan on the long and bitter history of Jewish-Samaritan relations.  He knows exactly who she is, what she has or hasn’t done, even how many hairs are on her head.  He knows she is a lost and condemned sinner in need of rescue, just like the rest of us.  She is a faithless bride in need of a Husband more – in fact, infinitely more – faithful than she will ever be.  And we are no better off without Him.  When Jesus said, let the little children come to me; He wasn’t just talking about Sunday-school children.
           
            Jesus cuts straight to the point:  “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”  This is Jesus’ not-so-subtle way of reminding us that we don’t even know what it is we need unless He tells us first. 
            If you knew the gift of God.  If you knew that, nothing else would really matter, for you would have Him who is the source of everything – body and soul eyes, ears, and all my members, my reason.  And even when senses fail, salaries drop, pink slips show up in the mail box, or terror and calamity throughout the world strikes despair in your heart - you could even be as poor as old Job and yet they have not won.  Jesus’ flesh restoring living waters remains.
            If you knew the gift of God you wouldn’t care what the world thought of your reputation or any of your past sins – 5 husbands or one; divorce or happily married; it wouldn’t matter what kind of sins the devil or your Old Adam would try and throw in your face, for you have acceptance, love and a pure conscience in the only perfect Bridegroom, Christ.  He has taken your sin and drown it all in His bloody baptism on the cross.
            If you knew the gift of God you would need no other gift of self-satisfaction – no gossip in the hallways between services, no prideful comparison between you and your “Samaritan” neighbors, no thirst quenched apart from devotion and study of God’s Word, no matter how busy life is.
            Repent.  Leave your sins with Jesus at Jacob’s well.  For He draws them all to Jerusalem on His back.  He is both the gift of God and the Giver of all God’s gifts.  And He pours out His living water upon you just as He did for that woman at the well.

            For One greater than Jacob is here.  That patriarch worked 14 long years to gain his lovely bride, Rachel.  But our Jacob worked harder, worked longer, worked His hands and feet to death to wed all of us who are so uglified and parched in sin.  He labored to gain Ms. Samaritan and you and all her ugly twin sisters, as His wife.  Our Jacob loves you, His bride, His Church and gave Himself up for you, that He might clothe you in royal, sacred beauty, cleansed and eternally satisfied through the spring of living water filled by His Word and Spirit.
           
            Greater love has no Husband than this; that Christ lay down His life for you, His bride; you who are holy and spotless in His sight, without blemish; clothed in crucified, baptized splendor.  You who drink from the well that He dug with His own hands; you who dine at his table and drink from His cup; you, to whom our Jacob has pledged His undying love and fidelity.  You are brought to a deeper well.
            Where you worship with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven…not in Jerusalem or Mt. Gerizim but at the pierced feet of the crucified and risen Lord – at the Lamb’s High feast, you sing, you eat, you drink – a table is prepared and the cup brims with blessing.  And blessed are you who hunger and thirst for righteousness, here you are and you will always be, satisfied.

           For what Ms. Samaritan told the townspeople was true: “Come, see a man who told all that I ever did.  Can this be the Christ?”  You mean, He can see everything?  Yes, everything.  But do not fear – this isn’t like some magical island where all dreams come true.  No, Jesus knew exactly who this woman Samaritan was.  Jesus talked to her, showed her where true living water is really poured out and then she led the others back to drink in those words:  “I am He who speak to you, the Messiah.” 
             Jesus knows exactly who you are – chequered past, false religion and all.  He takes it all to the cross to save, rescue, die and rise for you.  And now Jesus comes to sit and talk with you: “In the stead and by the command I forgive you all your sins.  Take; eat.  Take; drink.  I, Jesus, take you sinners to be my beloved bride, the Church.  To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish – not even death will part us; I pledge you My faithfulness.”

In the Name of the Father and of the T Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.




Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Living Waters of Narnia

I am not (in fact quite infrequently) a fan of many so-called sermon illustrations.  Too often the medium becomes the message and the entire focal point of the illustration is lost (also one of the main problems with children's "sermons," btw).  There is always the danger of the sky-scraper sermon: one storey after another.  This is not to say that all illustrations are bad.  In fact, we need illustrations.  We learn and hear and comprehend this way, but we really ought to examine the illustrations we use.  Who is the focus?  What's the point of reference?  Does it clearly point to Christ or obfuscate the Gospel?  Those are just a few questions we do well to ask before setting using an illustration.  Illustrations should be like the stimulus was alleged to be: timely, targeted and temporary.  But for example, as I will illustrate below, an illustration may be entirely appropriate (even Christ-centered and cross focused) and yet for a variety of reasons, can still miss the mark.  Kind of like referencing the sins of the Jersey Shore to a snow-bird community who has never even heard of MTV, let alone Snookie and her cookies.

As I was pondering the text for this Sunday's Gospel reading - John 4, the Samaritan woman at the well - I couldn't help but think of a perfect example of this latter kind of sermon illustration.  In a different context (or among a different audience, to say it another way) the following, more obscure C.S. Lewis Narnian reference, would be more widely understood.  But I will leave that for you, the reader, to evaluate.

This Sunday's reading is kind of like a random sampling of my 1980's wardrobe (yes, I rocked the Hammer pants): there's just a whole lot goin' on.  And if you try to focus on it all in a short Sunday morning sermon, you - and the parishioners - will probably get dizzy.  That's how this little illustration made its way here.  Not so much the cutting floor as it is the threshing floor of further homiletical harvesting.

It doesn't take a genius or an exegete to realize that John has an obsession with water in his Gospel.  That's really because Jesus has an obsession with water and more importantly, what He will do with it: whether that's at His Baptism, in Cana, with Nicodemus, by the Holy Spirit, from His side or in His disciple's preaching and teaching and baptizing in His Name.  This Sunday, Jesus' water "de jour" is the Samaritan woman by the well.  It's no coincidence He's at a well and it's no coincidence they end up talking about water.  Because it's not just about the water they are drinking. As good as Jacob's well water might be, Jesus knows what kind of water the woman needs: living water.  Jesus water.  Holy Spirit water.  Now, don't jump to Baptism just yet.  We'll get there.  First, the living water must flow in the right direction, down stream from this well in Samaria to Jerusalem.  Not to the mountain where the temple is, but to the hill outside the city to the Temple in human flesh.  That is where the water flows to and from.  All water - living and otherwise, temporal or spiritual - flows from the very Word, sent by the Father with the Spirit - a divine thirst-quencher.  In order for the living water to be given, Jesus must eventually die.  Not there in Samaria.  Not at this well.  But He goes to Jerusalem for this woman and for the people who come to believe in Him through her testimony and more importantly, through the Word that flowed from Jesus' mouth in streams of living water, to their ears.

Yes, living water flows from the cross.  Or better yet, from the side of Him who suffered and died on the cross.  A fleshly Altar, out of which flows a well of salvation - blood and water.  Like Eden, only better.  Think Revelation.  A tree and a river and Jesus dying so that you might live.

For in Narnia too, the King had died.  Caspian X had lived a good life.  He traveled to the edge of the world.  But there he rested in a glassy stream (at the end of The Silver Chair).  His long white beard swayed like water-weed.  And there beside the waters of Aslan's country, Jill and Eustace and even Aslan wept.

"Son of Adam," said Aslan, "go into that thicket and pluck the thorn that you find there, and bring it to me."  The thorn was a foot long and sharp as a rapier.
"Drive it into my paw, Son of Adam," said Aslan, holding up his right fore-paw and spreading out the great pad towards Eustace.
"Must I?" said Eustance.
"Yes," said Aslan.  (Do you hear the divine dei, it is necessary?!)
Then Eustace set his teeth and drove the thorn into the Lion's pad.  And there came out a great drop of blood, redder than all the redness that you have ever seen or imagined.  And it splashed into the stream over the dead body of the King.  At the same moment the doleful music stopped.  And the dead King began to be changed.  His white beard turned to grey, and from grey to yellow, and got shorter and vanished altogether; and his sunken cheeks grew round and fresh, and the wrinkles were smoothed, and his eyes opened, and his eyes and lips both laughed, and suddenly he leaped up and stood before them...and he rushed to Aslan and flung his arms as far as they would go around the huge neck; and he gave Aslan the strong kisses of a king, and Aslan gave him the wild kisses of a Lion.

Such are the living waters that flow in Narnia which point to the living waters that flow in Samaria and Judea and in every font now that our King has died and risen.  Blood and life-giving waters that well up to eternal life for the Samaritan and the Jew and for all who thirst in the way of that woman, quenched forever by her Savior and ours.  "I AM He who you are speaking to.  I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city. I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star. The Spirit and the bride say, “Come!” And let the one who hears say, “Come!” Let the one who is thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life."  So, dear fellow Samaritans, all you who thirst (all Sons of Adam, Daughters of Eve, Narnians and elves), let us go and ask this Jew to drink His living water.  Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Tsunamis and the Apocalypse

The recent events in Japan, not to mention Libya, Egypt, Bahrain and elsewhere, have caused a great deal of hysterical rhetoric both from within and from without the camp of Christian orthodoxy. And as one might expect, the question of theodicy - or the problem of evil (a favorite and proverbial, punching bag for skeptics and atheists alike) - has not been left behind in the recent discussions. Even Rob Bell and Martin Bashir hashed it out for a few minutes. Perhaps E-nklings will take another evaluation of said interview with the often quoted Epicurus in mind. And if you're curious, here's a previous post about the problem with the problem of evil. But for the present, that is neither here nor there. In light of these events - which seem to grow more dim and brumal by the day - we do well to pray for those in danger around the world: Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Sometimes there are no good intellectual answers. Thanks be to God for the work of mercy being done in Japan. And yet, there is a place for intellectual discussion which can help sort out some of the existential realities of daily life in this fallen world. Therefore, it is my privilege to welcome the words of guest writer, Dr. Uwe Siemon-Netto, to this particular corner of the blogoshire. He has recently written a winsome and thoughtful answer to the problem briefly diagnosed above. Without further adieu, Dr. Siemon-Netto:

The Bible cautions believers against speculating about the date and time of the Apocalypse, although current world events and calamities seem to invite such conjecture. There are the uprisings in the Middle East. In Japan, the tsunami and earthquake disasters are fueling raising nuclear fears. And then the nuttiness of clergymen fitting Luther’s definition of “false clerics and schismatic spirits” reminds us that Christ listed some signs of the looming end of times, for example the appearance of many bogus prophets. The Rev. Steve Fawler, part-time rector of St. Stephen’s Episcopal church in Ferguson, Missouri, might just fit this rubric.

Fawler decided to “give up church for Lent,” and to adopt Muslim rituals and dietary rules for the 40 days until Easter. Thankfully, his bishop threatened to defrock him if he continued this practice, which manifestly confirms a Roman verity that preceded Christianity: Whom the gods want to destroy they first make mad. As Bishop George Wayne Smith told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, “He can’t be both a Christian and a Muslim. If he chooses to practice as Muslim, then he would, by default, give up his Christian identity and priesthood in the church.”

If the times weren’t so dire it would be fun to spin Fawler’s rationale further: How about giving up love for marriage in Lent? How about giving up death for funerals, or birth for adolescence, or motherhood for fatherhood? One must cheer the bishop for trying to maintain theological sanity, which isn’t easy in today’s religious environment where major denominations are degenerating into post-Christian neo-Gnostic sects, to wit the joint celebration of the Eucharist by Episcopalians and Hindus three years ago in Los Angeles, or a same-sex wedding in a sanctuary of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), also in southern California. The most titillating moment during this betrothal came when the woman pastor placed a consecrated host on the tongue of a seeing-eye dog; it is worth remembering in this context that according to Lutheran sacramental theology communicants receive Christ’s true body and blood “in with and under” the bread and the wine.
Taken by itself, the emergence of Gnostic sects is of course insufficient evidence for the imminence of Judgment Day. Gnosticism, a set of diverse syncretistic religious movements, has been around since antiquity and a huge threat to the early Church; yet the Church prevailed. St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430) was a Gnostic before his conversion to Christianity in 386 A.D.; be became one of the most important Fathers of the Church.

Spurious end-time prophecies also have a long track record. As Anglican theologian and philosophy professor Gerald R. McDermott points out, Christians in the days of Pope Gregory the Great at the end of the sixth century thought that Judgment Day was nigh when the Lombards, a northern Germanic tribe, invaded present-day Italy. In the 16th century, Martin Luther was certain that the Apocalypse would occur in his lifetime or shortly thereafter. Later less formidable characters obtained their 15 minutes of glory, to paraphrase Andy Warhol, by prophesying precise dates for Christ’s return (parousia), never mind that Jesus said in Matthew 24:25 that nobody could know the time and day.
In 1856, the prophetess of the Seventh-Day Adventists, Ellen G. White, reported that an angel had announced to her the nearness of Christ’s return. The angel, she said, told her what would happen to most people: “Some (will become) food for worms, some subjects for the seven last plagues.” Also in the mid-19th century, Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism, predicted that Jesus would be back within 56 years.

Then in the 1970s and 1980s, Hal Lindsay achieved notoriety by informing his millions of readers that 1988 would be the year of the parousia; well, it turned out it wasn’t. This list can be continued ad infinitum and include the fear-mongering forecasters of the impending Rapture.
The craze to hypothesize about the end of time or even advance this event by human means, which according to Martin Luther is the ultimate form of utopianism, spills over to other religions as well. In Japan in the 1980s, a semi-blind charlatan by the name of Shoko Asahara founded a “neo-Buddhist” sect called Aum Shinri-Kyo. It recruited primarily graduates of leading universities and gained worldwide infamy by producing huge amounts of Kalashnikov rifles and developing chemical and biological weapons of mass destruction. In 1995, they set off a sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway system killing 12, injuring 54 and affecting thousands of others, a misdeed for which Asahara was sentenced to the gallows; he is now awaiting his execution.

What was that all about? In an interview one of his top lieutenants told me that it was the purpose of this crime to trigger World War III between Japan and the United States, which would result in the destruction of the universe. Why would a bunch of young scientists wish to do that? “Well,” he said, “the Lord Shiva has commanded us to give him a helping hand;” Shiva is the destroyer in the Hindu trinity. When he’s done, Brahma, the Creator, would be able to begin a new cycle of creation.
So here we had a “Buddhist” sectarians killing in behalf of a Hindu god, and to top the syncretistic madness, they explained this in Christian terminology. With his hands on a Bible, Asahara’s white-robed henchman informed me that he and his co-religionists were Christ’s soldiers in the Battle of Armageddon. But who was Christ to them? “An incarnation of Shiva, the god of destruction,” he said.

All this would be hilarious if it weren’t so deadly and in total contradiction of what Scripture is saying. It is possible, suggests Gerald McDermott, that calamities such as the current disaster in Japan, are a warning or even temporal punishment from God. In fact, a prominent devotee of the Shinto religion suggested the same thing. “The character of the Japanese people is selfish. The Japanese people must take advantage of this tsunami to wash away their selfish greed. I really do think this is divine punishment,” Shintaro Ishihara, governor of Tokyo, told a press conference.
As for the ultimate Day of Judgment, the Christ’s message is clear: repent and be watchful! “If you are not watchful, I will come like a thief, and you will never know at what hour I will come upon you” (Revelation 3:3).

Uwe Siemon-Netto, the former religious affairs editor of United Press International, has been an international journalist for 54 years, covering North America, Vietnam, the Middle East and Europe for German publications. Dr. Siemon-Netto currently directs the League of Faithful Masks and Center for Lutheran Theology and Public Life in Irvine, California.

To find out more about the League of Faithful Masks and their work in promoting the doctrine of Christian vocation, how to start a charter group in your area or more on this sublime Christian doctrine, visit their website at http://www.faithfulmasks.org/.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Ark That Jesus Built


Lenten Midweek 2011 – Baptism as Flood
Lenten Theme - Life by Drowning: Baptismal Life in the Season of Lent
Text: Genesis 8:1-21; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Matthew 3:13-17

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit + Amen.

            For every blessing water pours forth it also surges with destruction.  The same peaceful waters – disturbed only by the ripples of fish jumping – can just as quickly turn into a storm threatening to swamp the whole fishing trip; just ask the disciples.  The same ocean that curls perfectly for surfers can just as tragically form ruthless tsunamis.  So it is with the flood: cataclysmic blessing and harrowing devastation all at once.  Water kills and makes alive; it brings down to Sheol and it raises up.
            Despite the popular nursery pictures, the flood is not some cute fairy tale – they never show the unbelievers drowning in the torrent or the blotting out of all flesh– just cute giraffes with wee beady eyes and otters splashing playfully around the ark as Noah waves bon voyage with a smile.    Instead of the reality: Calamity.  Destruction.  Death.  Creation undone. 
            The flood is not a cute fairy tale because Noah did not live in a cute fairy tale world.  He lived in the world of the fall.  The curse.  No wonder Lamech named his newborn son, Noah, meaning “rest.”  For he hoped that, “out of the ground that the Lord has cursed this one shall bring us relief from our work and from the painful toil of our hands.”  Lamech makes what Luther calls a pious mistake – thinking his son is the Promised Seed born to undo the work of Adam.  But piously mistaken though he was, Lamech deserves an A+ in biblical interpretation.  For his son points to the true Messiah who is our Sabbath Rest.
            Creation was certainly in need of rest.  It had become chaotic long before the waters started to rise.  Reading Genesis 3-6 is like a tragic novel – things get darker and darker each page you turn.  Everything that God had said seven times was “good” and “very good” was now very bad, spoiled, corrupted by the devil and his fellow comrades in mutiny, Adam and Eve.  Noah grew up in this world – where “the wickedness of man was great on the earth and every intention of his heart was only evil continually,” a “corrupt and violent earth.”
            And yet, Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord.  Noah was a righteous man –not because he was not bad or at least the lesser of all evils - but because he believed in the One who would be born of woman.  The One his father had mistaken him for – the Promised Seed.  And so, by faith in the promise, Noah was firmly anchored in the Father’s only Begotten Son. 
            So, Noah was appointed the captain of the Salvation Navy, eight souls in all.  Saved in their foolish little boat.  But the ark wasn’t just a life-boat.  For 120 years Noah was a herald of righteousness (2 Pet. 2:5) – and no doubt repentance - from his divinely ordained gopher wood pulpit.  Those neighbors who scoffed while they did whatever they pleased thought Noah was nothing but a wet towel were the same neighbors clinging like barnacles to the outside of the ark.

            Outside the ark – the waters that the Spirit once hovered over in creation were now the same waters used for judgment.  Outside the ark, creation shifted in reverse: trees and dry land vanished; sun, moon and stars were hidden behind gloomy sheets of rain for 40 days; a cosmic font drowning man and beast in a watery burial shroud.  Back to Genesis 1:8, Day 2 of creation, when the waters above were separated from the waters below – water, water everywhere, was all there was to see. 
            But water wasn’t all there was to see.  There was the ark, floating across the face of the waters, a divine life-raft.  There were animals.  There was Noah and his family.  And finally, after about a year, there was a freshly picked olive branch in the beak of Noah’s dove.  Though Noah was not the New Adam, God gives him a similar Eden-like vocation: “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth.”  He may not have lived up to his father’s expectations, but this man of rest who built an ark for the salvation of his family foreshadows a perfect Son, who would fulfill all His Father’s expectations – a true Man of Rest, the New and Greater Noah – who builds an ark for the salvation of his household, a household where you are called sons of God.
            For the new creation would come, not in a moisten flood plain, but in the parched wilderness of Judea, in the waters of the Jordan River where the Dove descended on the the New and Greater Noah.  This time when the heavens were opened it was not water that was sent, but a Dove and a Voice.  The feathered Spirit rested on Jesus, having found a perfect fleshly olive branch.  Peace with God in the flesh and blood of this True Man of Rest.  Jesus comes to fulfilling all of Lamech’s hopes, for He comes to be baptized to suffer and to die – to fulfill all righteousness, for Lamech, Noah and you.  

            There in the Jordan, the tides have turned.  Jesus’ Baptism is a great reversal.  A super exchange, a sacred swap – the Holy for the unholy, the Sinless for the sinner, the Living for the dead, the Son of David for the all sons of Adam.  Christ goes down into the water without guilt.  Without sin.  Innocent. And He comes up out of the water guilty, impure, unclean – the greatest sinner of all.  A reverse Baptism.  Like a sponge, He soaks up all the sin and death and carries it with Him to Jerusalem.


            Because the water that trickled off His back at Jordan foreshadowed a greater baptism with which He was to be baptized – a billowing flood of fire and divine wrath.  The wicked, always doing-only-evil person you are, Christ became.  Your corrupt, do-whatever-I-please-sinful-nature – all your violent rebellious badness engulfed the good Son of God.  There, His body came to rest, not upon the Mountains of Ararat, but suspended in the firmament between heaven and earth on a mountain called Golgotha – a place of cataclysmic blessing and harrowing devastation - where Christ is pierced, sending forth a destroying and saving flood.  Saved in the foolishness of the cross. 

            Now, Christ’s body is the ark of the Church.  Jesus builds this Ark, not of wood and pitch, but of flesh and water and blood.  He is the vessel of salvation whose door – pried open by a Roman spear – still stands open within His side, so that you can enter into life, saved from the unbelieving world around you.  It’s no accident that most Baptismal fonts have 8 sides.  For just as 8 souls were saved through the ancient flood, so too on the 8th day, Christ rose again from His 3 day plunge into death.  He came to undo the work of the first Adam by means of a greater flood; a forgiving deluge come to re-genesis not just 8 souls in all, but the whole world, even you.  Once again the waters kill and make alive. 

            You are no longer at war with God – no, you are sons…over your head He pours forth a new and saving flood that drowns all sin in you which you have inherited from Adam and which you have committed since.  It may only look like plain water, but Jesus is there.  Jesus and Baptism always go together.  No one who goes into the font after Jesus comes out the same.  Down with the old and up with the new.  Christ-ed in Baptism, the Spirit descends and rests upon you.  Jesus is now your death, your life, your resurrection, your eternal Sabbath Rest – * not only in Lent but every day as you are kept safe and secure in the Holy Ark of the Christian Church, the body of this New and Greater Noah.  And this too is no fairy tale.

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit + Amen. 


Oh, Me Triune Clover

I am not Irish, not even a wee bit.  But I do appreciate a good Irish Guiness and good Irish music (Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphys, etc.) good Irish food, and of course good Irish theology.  And of course by Irish theology I mean the confession of St. Patrick.  There's a beautiful hymn in Lutheran Service Book inspired by the prayerful confession attributed to the breastplate of the name's sake for March 17th.  So, as I was eating my corned beef and cabbage at lunch today I couldn't help but think how closely good food and drink, good music and good theology go together.  Heaven will be, after all, a marriage feast of the Lamb with the richest meats and choicest fats and the finest wines.  Festival days should be just that.  The catch is, what do we celebrate on the festival of St. Patrick ?  So, as you enjoy your corned beef and cabbage - and maybe a splash of Guiness or two to wash it down - mix a little good ole' Irish theology in with your meal time conversations.  Sing the hymn.  Pray the prayer.  Thank God for missionaries who go back to the same place they once held you as a slave and for the sake of the Gospel risked more than a party foul to declare and defend the Christian faith in a time and place where it was anything but popular.  Speaking of unpopular, the creedal, confessional, orthodox Christian faith - something St. Patrick is lesser known for (quite sadly I might add).  He was against the Arians (no not the goose-stepping hand-waving types) and he stood firmly against the assaults of the old evil foe in the controversies over the doctrine of the Trinity.  So raise your glass and give a big 'Beannachtam na Feile Padraig!' as we enjoy a few words from one particular Irish born defender of the faith, who might not have come along were it not for the gracious work of Christ through His servant, Patrick those many years ago.

Speaking on the Christ and the Trinity in the Creed, Lewis writes:

"One of the creeds says that Christ is the Son of God 'begotten, not created,' and it adds 'begotten of his Father before all worlds'...Christ is begotten, not created.  What does it mean?  We don't use words like begetting or begotten much in modern English, but everyone still knows what they mean.  To beget is to become the father of: to create is to make.  And the difference is this.  When you beget, you beget something of the same kind as yourself.  A man begets human babies, a beaver begets little beavers and a bird begets eggs which turn into little birds.  But when you make, you make something of a different kind than yourself.  A bird makes a nest, a beaver makes a dam, a man makes a wireless set: say a statue.  If he is a clever enough carver he may even make a statue which is very like a man indeed.  But, of course, it is not a real man; it only looks like one.  It cannot breath or think.  It is not alive. 

What God begets is God; just as what man begets is man.  What God creates is not God; just as what man makes is not man.  This is why men are not sons of God in the sense that Christ is.  They may be like God in certain ways, but they are not things of the same kind.  They are more like statues or pictures of God."

And later on he writes:

"You know that in space you can move in three ways - to left or right, backwards or forwards, up or down.  They are called three dimensions...if you have three dimensions, you can then build what we call a solid body: say a cube - such as a lump of sugar or a dice.  And a cube is made of six squares.  Do you see the point?  A world of one dimension would be a straight line.  In a two-dimensional world, you still get straight lines, but many lines make one figure.  In a three-dimensional world, you still get figures but many figures make one solid body.  On other words, as you advance to more real and more complicated levels, you do not leave behind you the things you found on the simpler levels: you still have them, but combined in new ways - in ways you could not imagine if you only knew the simpler levels.  Now the Christian account of God involves just the same principle.  The human level is a simple and rather empty level.  On the human level one person is one being, and two persons are two separate beings - just as, in two dimensions one square is one figure, and any two squares are separate figures.  On the Divine level you still find personalities; but up there you find them combined in new ways which we, who do not live on that level, cannot imagine.  In God's dimension, so to speak, you find a being who is three Persons while remaining one Being, just as a cube is six squares while remaining one cube.  Of course we cannot fully conceive a Being like that: just as, if we were so made that we perceived only two dimensions in space we could never imagine a cube..." - Mere Christianity, pages 157-158 and 161-162.

Thankfully, as Lewis says, "When it comes to knowing God, the initiative lies on His side.  If He does not show Himself, nothing you can do will enable you to find Him."  So, thank God for St. Patrick and all who have spoken that we might hear (Romans 10:17) and most of all, thanks be to God that He sent His only begotten Son to become incarnate - not as a six squared box or a beaver or a duck - but as a human being to redeem His fallen humanity from sin, death and the devil.  For what Christ has assumed He has redeemed.  And if that's not reason enough for a feast (even in Lent), then I don't know what is.


I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever.
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan river;
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'well done' in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles' word,
The Patriarchs' prayers, the Prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
CI bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever.
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan river;
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'well done' in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles' word,
The Patriarchs' prayers, the Prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
hrist in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

A blessed St. Patrick's Day to you all...here's a little jig to get you in the Irish mood.  Slainte!


Monday, March 14, 2011

Rumble in the Desert

T Lent 1 – March 13, 2011 T
Text: Genesis 3:1-21; Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11

In the Name of Jesus + Amen.

            The wilderness is a horrid place.  It’s not so much of what’s out there that’s the problem, but what isn’t out there.  Lack.  Hardship.  Endless sand and rocks – no vegetation – no life, just plain nothing.  Endless nothingness.  Everything’s chaotic and nothing is good, nothing is right.  You can try covering it up with irrigation and golf courses, spas and resorts, but all is vanity – the ground is cursed - pay no attention to the thorns and thistles behind the curtain.  The desert is the opposite of Eden’s Paradise - pristine vibrancy, life in all its vitality: waters swarmed, animals teemed, trees and plants abundant as the eye could see.  The only thing that really goes out into the wilderness is a scapegoat bearing the sins of the people.

            Jesus wastes no time.  Still dripping wet with Jordan’s baptismal waters – He is led by the Spirit into the wilderness, the devil’s territory, to be tempted.  The ancient Serpent awaited the 2nd Adam.  Heaven and hell were about to exchange blows.  Out in the wilderness Satan attempts reverse insanity – trying the same trick over and over again and expecting the same result.  Adam fell.  Israel fell.  Why not try Jesus?  He’s hungry.  Tired.  Weak – ripe for the picking; it’ll be just like the good ole days.  Ok, it’s not insanity; it’s unbelief of the worst kind.  Satan knows who Christ is but does not believe that He cannot fall.
            Christ goes out to meet His foe, but He is not alone – you are with Him in the desert.  Jesus goes to the wilderness to do what we could not do.  Jesus stands where Israel once stood – in the wilderness.  Jesus stood where Adam once stood - in the face of Satan’s temptation.  Israel reduced to one.  Humanity reduced to one.  There are no wallflowers in this dance.  In Jesus, all of us go toe-to-toe with the heavyweight of hell.  Just as in Adam all humanity fell through temptation into sin and death, so in Christ all humanity will rise in the obedience and righteousness of Him who fights for you.

            Round 1.  Jesus is hungry after fasting 40 days and 40 nights.  Satan, hungry for victory, strikes the first blow: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.”  If God feeds the birds of the air and clothes the lilies of the field will He not even feed His own Son?  If you really are His beloved Son, why do you suffer?  
            No sooner had Satan thrown the first punch than Jesus returned with the block.  “It is written, man shall not live by bread alone, but by every Word that comes from the mouth of God.” 
            “This is my Beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.”  You see, Satan’s low blow was not aimed at Jesus’ empty stomach, but rather, to turn Jesus from the promise of His Father’s Word to the fickle feelings of the human heart.  But Jesus is not some conjurer of cheap tricks.  The Bread of Life lives and trusts perfectly in the Word of God.

            And as it was with Jesus, so it is with you.  Failing to knock out Jesus, Satan will come and bully your conscience, luring you away from your Father’s Word to the fickle feelings of the human heart.  You are God’s beloved child.  But it doesn’t always seem that way, does it?  Bills pile up, loved ones fall ill, families are broken, earthquakes strike.  If God really loved us He wouldn’t let these things happen, would He?  If you were really a child of God you wouldn’t always fall prey to that sin, would you? 
            Such are the designs of the devil: lies, doubt and despair.  Every lie of the devil begins with, “if.”  But Jesus exposes Satan’s word for the lie that it is.  That’s the little word that can fell him: Liar.  For he cannot bear to hear the truth.  Jesus does not fail the test.  The obedient for the disobedient.  Where Israel grumbled, Jesus does not murmur against God’s promises.  Jesus came not to be served - but to be tempted by the flesh in our flesh – to serve others and give His life as a ransom for you.

            Round 2.  Satan taunts Jesus a second time.  The devil took Him to Jerusalem, to the pinnacle of the temple: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.”  Oh, the devil is so pious.  He even quotes Scripture: “For He will command His angels concerning you…and…on their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.” 
            But you must read the rest of Psalm 91, devil.  For it says “You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.”  How convenient; the devil left that part out.  It’s about him.  The Son of God will strike His foot – not against a stone – but against Satan’s head.  Crushing it with a cross-bruised heel.
            Satan can only twist Scripture.  Deceits and false promises.  He can only be God’s ape, trying to get you to join his monkey-see, monkey-do game.  “Did God really say?” “He would keep, guard and build His Church?  Will He really create believers with nothing but His Word and water and body and blood?  How many men and women – let alone churches, great and small – have jumped from the pinnacle of truth only to strike their foot against the stone of heresy? 
            But Jesus will hear none of it.  While Satan’s lies worked in the garden they are rebuked and overcome in the desert.  Jesus does not fall where Adam fell. “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.”  And neither will Jesus.  Angels will come and minister to Jesus, but not here.  Not now.  For He came, not to be lifted up on the temple, but on the cross. 

Round 3.  Satan lunges forward with one last swing.  Having failed in tempting Jesus to divine self-service and self-protection; Satan goes for the jugular – self-preservation – the very heart of the 1st commandment, fear, love and trust in God.  “All of these kingdoms I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” 
            A tempting proposition: a kingdom without a cross.  A shortcut – just a little tap-out, bow down and worship me – in exchange for all the glory of the kingdoms in this world.  How often we exchange our worship for considerably less.  But for Jesus – and His bride, the Church – the end does not justify the means.  There is no kingdom without the crucifixion.  The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, suffer, be crucified and buried and on the 3rd day rise again.  Jesus will never deny the Father and for that, the Father will never deny you. 

            One final blow remains: “You shall worship the Lord your God and Him only shall you serve.”  Be gone, Satan!  And with that the devil is repelled.  He must flee before God’s Word. 

            Do you see what Jesus – your Fighter, your Champion, your Valiant One – has done for you?  He has utterly reversed the fall of the first man.  Where Adam fell, Christ stood.  Where Adam yielded, Christ conquered.  Where Adam betrayed himself and God, Christ remained true.  But that is not all.  Christ the new Adam, brings forth a new humanity in His flesh and blood.  What you could not do, Christ has done for you.  In the plush Garden, the first Adam was defeated by the ancient serpent.  But there in the Judean wilderness, Jesus fought off the temptations of the Evil One.  Defeated, first in the desert and then on the cross. 
            Heaven and hell stood toe-to-toe and hell is left lying in the dust – so that you who are dust and dust you shall return – will not be left to die outside the city.  So that you, sons of Adam and daughters of Eve will not be cast out of Paradise, but embraced, welcomed and made new. 
            Shed the serpentine skin of your old Adam and live.  For Jesus’ victory is your victory.  Jesus’ conquering is your conquering.  Jesus’ baptism is your baptism:  His death, life, resurrection and ascension are all yours.  He is the one who lives by every Word that comes from the mouth of God, who refuses to put God to the test, who worships and serves the Lord His God alone – all for you.
            Everything the devil has on you – all the dirt, all the skeletons in the closet, all the sin – Christ has taken upon Himself. 
            So the next time Satan rubs his accusations in your conscience point him to Jesus.   Shake your fist and throw ink bottles at him.  Say, “Damn you, devil, eat dust.  You’ll have to take that up with Jesus.  He’s the one who bears all my sin.  I’m a baptized child of God, covered by the blood of Him who has you firmly under His foot.  Christ defeated you in the wilderness and on the cross.  You have nothing to say to me.  Be gone, Satan!  You cannot harm me; I belong to Christ.  And He holds the field, the wilderness and the cross – victorious, forever.”
In the Name of Jesus + Amen.


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Raised from the Ashes

+ Ash Wednesday, 2011 +
Text: Joel 2:12-19; Matthew 6:1-21

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit + Amen.

            Run through the city.  Blow the trumpet in Zion.  Proclaim the fast.  Gather the people.  The season of Lent is here.  The altar is black…soon to be purple.  40 days.  Fasting and penitence.  Farewell to the Alleluia…for now.  We go down from the Mountain of Transfiguration with the disciples into the Valley of the Shadow of death.
            For some this is a gloomy, grumpy, sighing season.  Time to give something up.  Time to make a big pious show of repentance: disfigured faces, grumpy and gloomy, almost sad and angry.  That’s Lent for the Pharisees – they darkened their faces with ash to shine the spotlight on their repentance.  “Look at me!  It’s Lent and I’m grumpy and gloomy and fasting.  Is that your Lent?  I’m sorry, but you and the Pharisees have both missed the point.
            But so have those who deny the sacrificial, somber solemnity of Lent.  “We need to tone down all this talk about sin and repentance or temptation and suffering – that’s not very popular you know.”  No one wants to visit a church where they talk about crucifixions and ashes and death all the time.  That’s just a Pharisee of a different color.
            No wonder Ash Wednesday – and Lent - clash with the world and our Old Adam: we’re not in Paradise anymore.  The road to the cross is laid before us, but more importantly, before Jesus our Lord.  Good Friday, at the end of Lent, is the commemoration of Jesus’ death and burial.  Ash Wednesday is the commemoration of our death and burial.  Today the words God spoke to Adam are spoken to us: “You are dust and to dust you shall return.”  We are not here to celebrate our death – anymore than a funeral is a celebration of life – that victory feast is yet to come; the night will soon be ending.
            But today is a grim reminder of the reality of death.  Ash Wednesday is many days rolled into one:  Today we are forced out of Paradise with Adam and Eve.  Today we hear the preaching of Noah and Jonah that the world cannot ignore God without incurring disaster and penalty.  Today we sit with Job in the ash-heap comforting ourselves with comfortless words, “we brought nothing into this world and shall take nothing out.”  Today we pray and fast with David, mourning over the death of his infant son and his elder son Absalom, knowing that by ourselves we cannot create life anymore than we can preserve life.  We simply cannot escape ourselves.
            Unless we die with Christ now – today – we cannot be raised with Him at Easter.  Without Ash Wednesday, Easter is meaningless.  Unless there is sorrow over sin, there is no joy in resurrection.  Run through the city.  Proclaim a fast.  Put aside all pretence and boasting.  Rend your hearts and not your garments.  Perhaps the God who condemns our sin will also raise us up.
            Fasting is good. We should fast.  We should give up what we love most; give up whatever gets in the way of Christ.  But don’t let your right hand know what your left is doing – because the moment we advertise what we’re fasting from, we’ve missed the point.
            It’s not just giving up your favorite coffee or chocolate.  Give up whatever is in the way of Christ.  Give up your sins. Give them up now. Give up your idols--your treasures that make your day, the things you fear, love and trust above God.  Give up your dark clouds and gloom, your disfigured Pharisee-faces. Wash your ashen face with baptismal joy this Lenten season.  Yes, happiness in Lent.  Christ has come to pry the sin – the sins you try so hard to keep - out of your cold dead hands.  Jesus comes and gives Himself up for Lent for you who won’t give up your sin without a fight.  It’s a battle He enters willingly, lovingly – taking your sin and death forever.
            That’s why today – and every day - our hope is in God who comes in our own flesh and blood – the God-man Jesus Christ – He comes with His flesh and blood.    Today we set our faces toward Jerusalem.  Lent is more than purple and soup suppers; more than fasting and giving things up.  Lent is Jesus rebuking Satan’s temptation in wilderness, Jesus raised up like Moses’ bronze serpent, Jesus pouring out living water for Samaritans and Jews alike, Jesus anointing the blind in mud and water, Jesus raising and unbinding the dead.  Jesus dying and rising again – all for you.  Where His treasure is, there His heart will also be, forever.
            Christ has defeated the evil foe – crushed; look upon the glory of God found nailed to a cursed tree; Christ pours out His living water from His side to His font to cover you in living water, never shall you thirst again; Christ anoints you – for the cross of ashes is not the most important cross inscribed on your forehead; in fact you can wash the ashes off in a clear conscience – even before you go home - for Christ has already washed all of your death away; drained into His tomb forever; there’s no need to run around like a disfigured-faced-Pharisee.
            Yes, even in Lent there is joy – you are marked with a better cross – Jesus’ blood and water, traced upon your forehead and your heart; you are baptized, His “little Christs,” His little “anointed ones;” and in those waters He drowns you and raises you up again in Him, in His death.  In His life. 

            In Christ’s death and resurrection you are raised from the ashes, like a phoenix, only better – holy and righteous in His sight – raised from the ashes in Baptism; raised from your ashes on the Day of Resurrection.  For many things will whither and fade in this life, the stuff will burn and perish – dust you are and to dust you shall return –but there’s one thing – or rather – someone who doesn’t whither, fade or turn to dust, a Savior who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. 
            Maybe you’ve come to Ash Wednesday with fear, anxiety, worry, grief or illness – come to the foot of His cross, kneel, be fed; take eat, take drink.  There is no burden you can bring to His altar that He hasn’t already borne for you; no sin, grief or sorrow for which He hasn’t already died.  He comes to sit with you in the ash heap and to take your sin and death with Him to Jerusalem.  To rescue, redeem and rise again.
           
So Rejoice.  Run through the city.  Blow the trumpet in Zion.  Proclaim the fast.  Gather the people.  Christ Crucified is yours.  Baptism is yours.  His body and blood are yours to feed and nourish you throughout these 40 days.  For where your treasure is there your heart will be also.

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit + Amen.