Sermon for 24th Sunday after Pentecost: "A Tale of Two Widows"

+ 24^th Sunday after Pentecost – November 11, 2012 +

Series B, proper 27: 1 Kings 17:8-16; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44

 In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Today we hear a tale of two widows. The Widow of Zerapheth and the Widow at the temple. One a gentile. The other an Israelite. One had nothing to give. The other gave up everything.

Two widows, seemingly worlds apart but they have one this in common…they walk by faith, not by sight. They cling to the Lord’s hidden promises and trust not the glories of men.

As one Lutheran poet notes:  

One widow's mite in the treasury drops
One widow's oil will pour and never stop
One gives her all but now has nothing left
One had nothing but now is not bereft
Blessed are you, who in these widows see,
That God takes all that our all he might be. (Chad Bird)

What was going through the widow’s mind as she stood in the women’s court of the temple, waiting to drop her meager offering in the coffers? She saw the scribes, their lavish robes and luxurious offerings. Inside the temple court stood 13 metal horn-shaped boxes, their gaping mouth pointed in the air. As the coins clanged their way into the coffers, the sound echoed throughout the courtyard. You can imagine everyone’s attention drawn to the horn when the rich came forward and dumped their large quantities of coin into the treasury box. Clang, clink, clang, clink. Everyone stopped. Looked.

What was she thinking as she stepped up to drop those two coins in? “What good can I do? I can’t even buy a loaf of bread. This doesn’t even compare to the scribes and their wealthy offerings.” No, none of that. Such are the ways and thoughts of sinful man.

Being a good Israelite, she had to know about the widow of Zerapheth. About the oil and the flour and the Lord who provides; about God, the Father of the fatherless and protector of the widows. She could have thrown only one in. But instead, she dropped two.

Sitting across the way, opposite the treasury box, is Jesus, watching people put their money into the treasury, listening to the clang, clang, clanging of the coins. And then He hears the plink, plink of the widow’s two copper coins. His ears perk up. He hears something different in that plink, plink that he didn’t hear in all the other coins that clanged into the coffer. He hears faith and trust in God. He calls the disciples: “Did you hear that?” You know they didn’t. “Truly I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box.”

“Jesus that’s lousy accounting. How are we going to pay the bills, Jesus, when you praise a couple of copper coins over all the gold and silver that was contributed? Aren’t we supposed to honor the big givers?” But Jesus sees what we can’t.  

Jesus sees what everyone else missed…the plink, plink of faith is music to the Lord’s ears, more melodious than all the coins of the rich clanging away in the temple courts. They gave out of their abundance; it takes no faith at all to give out of surplus. But to give out of poverty…that tiny little plink, plink of two copper coins was everything she had to live on.

             So, what are we to make of these two widows?

Certainly these readings teach us about the Lord provides for our needs, as he does for all. Perhaps there’s also a stewardship lesson here. If we all just gave like the widow , we’d be better stewards.  But there’s more to this tale of two widows than daily bread and stewardship –important though they are.

No, the greatest teaching Jesus gives us in this tale of two widows comes not from what is seen: the money, the oil, the flour, but what is unseen.  The hidden things: faith and trust in Christ. Not the plain-to-reason religion of mankind – works and pious pats on the back, but the outrageous forgiveness found in the kingdom of God. Mary foretold her Son’s radical Gospel as she sang the Magnificat: the Lord exalts the lowly and humbles the proud; fills the hungry and sends the rich away empty. The last become first. Losers become winners. The Kingdom of God comes in weakness and humility, just like those poor widows.

So, beware the scribes, Jesus says. They love attention; they love the applause; they love the place of honor; they love the loud clang of coins in the temple coffers. Yes, beware of the Scribes for there is a scribe in each of us. You see it clearly in others but the same reflection also reveals itself in the mirror: guilty. The kingdom of God comes not by our will, or by our offering, great or small. It comes not by what is seen or done, but by what is unseen. So give up your scribal, self-centered ways. Your sin and death – give it all up. For the Kingdom of heaven is like this poor widow, so repent that you may enter it.

The Kingdom of God is hidden from the eyes of man, 20/20 vision is no avail. It is hidden under its opposite; it is hidden under the emptiness of the widow’s jar of oil and flour; the emptiness of the widow’s purse, the emptiness of Lazarus’ stomach; under the emptiness of Him who emptied himself, taking on the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men. It’s no use looking for the kingdom of God with your eyes. You won’t find it in a perfect church body or a perfect congregation or a perfect voter’s meeting.

You’ll find it, rather where you’d least expect it…hidden in two copper coins dropped in the treasury that day, the greater gift that day known only to Jesus. The kingdom is hidden in the coin sized bread placed onto your tongue, the greatest gift God gives on any day.

In the widow’s offering we see a picture of Christ himself who gives out of his poverty; he puts everything he has into God’s coffers: his perfect obedience to the Father; his keeping the whole Law; his suffering and death, and for what - for his own sake, like the Scribes? No. For you. He gives up everything he has - in life and in death - for you.

For the kingdom of God is hidden in the naked king robed in flesh and blood, enthroned upon his tree, dripping into His Father’s treasury – not gold or silver or coins – but his holy saving blood, shed, every single drop of it, all for you. And when His blood in the coffer rings, the angels in heaven sing for joy.

You see, this tale of two widows is also your story. Perhaps you identify with these widows: feeling alone or abandoned, forgotten or unappreciated, hidden from the eyes of the world or your friends.

Maybe this week finds you worried about the economy – where your mites and copper coins will come from or go;  concerned about putting bread on the table for your family – where will I get flour and oil? Or maybe you’re tired from doing thankless tasks around the church, with little but grumbling from fellow members. Maybe you think no one notices those hidden gifts and talents you bring to Redeemer. But you are no widow. You are not alone or abandoned. You are the church, the body of Christ…Christ’s bride; you are safe, hidden from the world, but hidden in Christ. Adorned in the beauty and holiness of his death and resurrection. Don’t think that your two coins offered in faith go unnoticed. The world may not notice, but Christ does. And that plink, plink of faith’s little copper coins is a sweet melody in His ears.

What then shall we say about all these things? If God did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also graciously give us all things?  If we trust Him with our eternal life, will we trust Him with our two copper coins? Here we must pray, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.” Sometimes the flour and oil may run low, and your stock portfolio or bank account may have little more than a couple of copper coins in it, but you are never outside the Lord’s notice and never outside His care. He promises to care for you in body and soul. And Christ is faithful and true to His Word. “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you. Let not your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.” For our hope is not in princes or presidents, elephants or donkeys but in the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

There is the Kingdom of God.  The paschal Lamb of God whose sacrifice is hidden in bread and wine; whose blood and water is poured out and hidden in the font; whose Spirit still breathes life into dead sinners in the absolution. Thy Kingdom come!

And we pray in this petition that the kingdom of God would come among us…and among our neighbors. We know Christ takes our earthly talents and gifts, time and treasures and uses them to serve others. We know those LWML mite boxes fund mission and mercy around the world. We know God’s Word goes out, like seeds, planted today, sprouting tomorrow. We know our preschoolers hear the forgiveness of their sins and grow in Christ’s love. We know that children hear and sing the Word of God and carry the liturgy and hymns – they carry Jesus - home in song to their families.

But we know none of these things by sight. Rather by faith. Faith in hidden ways of Christ. The hidden ways of the cross. Christ hidden in the VBS child, the music student, the preschooler, the Sunday School, youth, college student, homeless and countless other hidden works of mercy around Redeemer. Christ hidden in the neighbor; Christ hidden in your service to others, not counted in riches and glory like the scribes, but in sacrifice and love, like the widow.

That’s what this day, Called to Serve Sunday – and more importantly, this Christian life - is all about: Christ for you on the cross. Christ in you for the neighbor. We give up everything because Christ has given up everything for us.

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Higher Things Radio Interview: Solus Christus

It's been about two weeks since my most recent Higher Things Radio interview. But here's the link to the latest one. As always, I take comfort in Gandalf's advice to busy pastors: "a wizard is never late; he arrives precisely when he means to."  As usual, I had a grand time daring to be Lutheran (and having a blast while doing it) with Jon Kohlmeier and a rather sickly Pastor George Borghardt; although he survived thanks to Robitussin, Diet Coke and the Great Physician of body and soul. The topic: Solus Christus. This is one of the four or five solas, depending on how you count them. Reminds me of another great Lutheran Latin phrase: crux sola est nostra theologia.

Enjoy the HT Radio goodness...and, stay Lutheran, my friends.

Raising Families.

One of our members at Redeemer is a sports writer for the Orange County Register. I always welcome and highly regard his writing expertise. "Write what you know about," he says. There's wisdom in those words. And right now, this is what I know: It's true that parents raise their children, but it is equally true (and ought not be forgotten) that children also raise their parents. This is the wonder of parenthood. As Christ serves the child through their parents, the child trains their parents in the vocation Christ has called them into.

When the child is conceived, grows in the womb and is born the parents marvel at the miracle of life; the epicenter of life shifts away from the self to the child. Parenting is always lived extra nos - both for the life of the child, their needs of body and soul - and for the parents needs of body and soul. Christ is the giver of both.

While the child is learning the daily routine - eating, napping, playing, bath, bottle, bed - the parents are learning that their time is no longer their own. While the child is adjusting to sleeping through the night the parents adjust to life with less sleep. While the child grows and explores their surroundings, the parents explore and discover new joy through the eyes of their child, experiencing the sounds of words, the smells of flora and the taste of food for the first time all over again. While the child plays and runs and screams with docile joy throughout the house, the parents realize that even their home, property and all their possessions are no longer their own; now all that is mine is yours, little one. While the child is trained in the way they should go, so too are their parents. While the child grows in wisdom and stature with God and man, so too do the parents. While the child lives in submission to their parents, the parents live self-lessly for their children, giving up all they have for their well being. While the child lives a life of utter dependence on their parents, the parents live a life of utter sacrifice for their children. This is vocation of love, giving and receiving.

While the parents are learning that they serve Christ in their child, the child is learning to look to their parents as to Christ himself; for from his hand flows all that supports this body and life. Our heavenly Father gives to Christ. Christ gives to his church. And His children have children. For it is only when parents are raising their own children that they envisage the full weight - with all the diapers and wipes and snotty noses, youthful laughs and tender smiles - what their own parents have done, and continue to do, for them. "To God, to parents and to teachers we can never offer enough thanks and compensation." (Luther, Large Catechism, 4th Commandment, 130).

Thus, parent learns to live in this office by the one who became a child for our sakes. Christ knew dependence and growing, wisdom and learning, daily routines and the like. He was born under the curse of the Law to redeem us from the Law so that by becoming a child of Adam, we might become sons of God. So, while he delighted in sacrifice, we delight in salvation. While he suffered on the cross, we - parents and children together - learn to trust in him for all our needs of body and soul. Why? Because he has done all things well. It is finished. He was perfectly submissive. Perfectly obedient. Perfect in life and in death for us who daily fail in our vocations - both child and parent. And he rose again. He baptizes us and gives us a new birth and a new family; we rise out of the Spirit-filled waters of new creation crying, "Abba, Father! God's own child, I gladly say it; I am Baptized into Christ!"

Indeed, parents stand in a high office. The parent is Christ to the child and the child is Christ to the parent. This is the Lord's doing and it is marvelous in our sight.

To the position of fatherhood and motherhood God has given special distinction above all positions that are beneath it: He does not simply command us to love our parents, but to honor them. Regarding our brothers, sisters, and neighbors in general, He commands nothing more than that we love them [Matthew 22:39; 1 John 3:14]. In this way He separates and distinguishes father and mother from all other persons upon earth and places them at His side. For it is a far higher thing to honor someone than to love someone, because honor includes not only love, but also modesty, humility, and submission to a majesty hidden in them. Honor requires not only that parents be addressed kindly and with reverence, but also that, both in the heart and with the body, we demonstrate that we value them very highly, and that, next to God, we regard them as the very highest. For someone we honor from the heart we must also truly regard as high and great.

 Concordia : The Lutheran Confessions. Edited by Paul Timothy McCain. St. Louis, MO : Concordia Publishing House, 2005, S. 371

¹¹⁷ Therefore, you should be heartily glad and thank God that He has chosen you and made you worthy to do a work so precious and pleasing to Him. Only note this: although this work is regarded as the most humble and despised, consider it great and precious. Do this not because of the worthiness of parents, but because this work is included in, and controlled by, the jewel and sanctuary, namely, the Word and commandment of God.

Concordia : The Lutheran Confessions. Edited by Paul Timothy McCain. St. Louis, MO : Concordia Publishing House, 2005, S. 372

Teacher and Lord by John R. W. Stott

Along with the 200 proof Lutheran sermon on the Reformation that Dr. Rod Rosenbladt delivered for us this past Sunday, he also brought with him a brief bulletin insert entitled, Teacher and Lord by John R. W. Stott. Much more could be said about Stott's contribution to Christian apologetics and evangelism. And though Lutherans have some points of disagreement with him, he was a modern representative of Lewis's Mere Christianity.

Here's the text of the insert, originally delivered at a Missionary Convention in Urbana, Illinois, 1964. His words on the authority and inspiration of Scripture were, no doubt, controversial at the time, and may be so today in the halls of Christianity. But they are nevertheless true and good words to remember. These are also fitting words when we recall what Luther and the Church struggled with (and continues to do so to this day) at the time of the Reformation. Who is your source of authority, Jesus or someone or something else?

Looking 'round at his disciples, Jesus said,
You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right;
That is what I am. John 13:13

The Christian is under both instruction and authority.
He looks to Jesus as his Teacher to instruct him,
and as his Lord to command him.
He believes what he believes
Because Jesus taught it,
and he does what he does
because Jesus said to do it.

He is our Teacher to instruct us,
and we learn to submit
and to subordinate
our minds to his mind.
We do not presume to have views or ideas or opinions
which are in contradiction to the views and ideas
of Jesus Christ.
Our view of Scripture
Is derived from Christ's view of Scripture
Just as our view of discipleship, of heaven and hell,
of the Christian life,
and of everything else,
is derived from Jesus Christ.
Any question about authority
therefore resolves itself to:
What did Jesus Christ teach about these points?

We would say,
without any doubt,
that he gave reverent assent to the authority
and inspiration of the Old Testament.
There is no indication anywhere in his teachings
that he disagreed with the Old Testament writers.
He regarded the words of the Old Testament writings as being the words of God.
He submitted to them in his own life,
he believed them,
he accepted their statements,
and sought to apply their principles.
He regarded Scripture as the great arbiter in dispute.
He said to his contemporaries,
'You make many mistakes,
Because you do not know the Scriptures.'

We find in the New Testament
that he invested the apostles with authority
to teach in his Name.
He said the Holy Spirit
would lead them into all truth,
would bring to their remembrance what he had spoken
to them,
and would show them things to come.
He evidently expected
that in the providence of God
there would be others to interpret,
expound,
and bear witness
to the revelation given in himself,
just as there were prophets raised up by God
and inspired to bear witness
to what he did in the Old Testament days.

To sum up,
the authority of Scripture
is due to the inspiration of Scripture.
The Old and New Testaments
Are authoritative in our lives because they are in fact inspired.

And therefore,
Since Jesus Christ is our Teacher
as well as our Lord,
the authority of Christ and the authority of Scripture
stand or fall together.

Chapel Message for Crean Lutheran High School

Today I had the joy of delivering the chapel message at Crean Lutheran High School, Orange County's other Lutheran High School. Great group of kids there and what appears to be a caring, educated and dedicated faculty. What follows is a bit of the expanded version I wrote up yesterday and used many of the highlights this morning in a condensed version. The snippets from The Hammer of God by Bo Giertz are longer in here than they were at chapel, but the full conversation is too good not to post along with the rest. Under the Mercy.

Ok. First thing’s first; I need you to close your eyes.  I know, it sounds a bit elementary. But play along with me. “Knock! Knock! Knock! (sound of hammer hitting wood). Now open them. What do you think of when you hear that sound? A knock on the door? An obnoxious salesman? Two guys in black ties and bicycles? Kids looking for tricks or treats?

Well, if you thought of a hammer and a nail and a door you were right. That was the sound heard round the world 495 years ago tomorrow, October 31 1517. This was the date Martin Luther posted his famous 95 theses on the church door in Wittenberg. The church door was like today’s bulletin boards – or better yet, twitter or facebook. If you had information you wanted everyone to know about – that’s where you posted it.

But what drove Luther’s hammer? What made him swing the nail and the notice into place that All Hallows Eve? It wasn’t success. Fame. Power. Women. Money. It was a simple question: How can a rotten, guilty sinner stand in the presence of a holy righteous God?  The church of Luther’s day had an answer for that: you can’t, that is unless you had somehow made satisfaction for your sins. Work hard enough and you’ll get out of purgatory eventually. Luther had worked hard and was still left only in despair. His good works were never enough to blot out that guilt of sin. The Law only increased his sin. That’s the killer about the Law – there’s always room for improvement. We’re never good enough. How can you get to heaven climbing that ladder? Well, the church had an answer for that too:

You buy one of these indulgences – a piece of paper guaranteed by the Pope himself, given out by John Tetzel and sold to the people granting them partial, and in some cases plenary – or full – remission of their sins and the sins of their relatives. Instant freedom from purgatory.

Problem is, the more Luther searched the Scriptures for answers, the less he found man’s works – including indulgences or anything else – a contributing factor. There aren’t enough indulgences to pay off the kind of debt our sin has racked up. In fact, there’s only one thing we do bring to our salvation and that’s sin. The rest is all Christ.

But The hammer stroke that fell on October 31, 1517 goes to the very heart of what the Reformation is all about, answering that question: how can sinners, dead in trespasses stand before a holy righteous God? On the basis of works or merits or slips of paper or coins or anything we do? No. Not at all. Rather it is solely by the grace of God through Christ – a righteousness manifested to us apart from the Law, Paul says – that assures us of heaven, life, salvation, forgiveness and all other good gifts of Christ.

21 But now the righteousness of God apart from the law is revealed, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, 22 even the righteousness of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, to all and on all who believe. For there is no difference; 23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24 being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God set forth as a propitiation by His blood, through faith, to demonstrate His righteousness, because in His forbearance God had passed over the sins that were previously committed, 26 to demonstrate at the present time His righteousness, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus. (Romans 3)

That knock! Knock! of the hammer wasn’t only about the sale of indulgences. It was the Christ’s Gospel beginning to break Luther out of his prison of despair. After Luther put the hammer away, he picked up the pen and the Scriptures. And he found therein the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ who though he was rich, for our sakes became poor. He found a Savior who rescues rebellious sinners by being numbered with them. He found a redeemer who exchanges everything he has – holiness, eternal life, righteousness and takes all that we have – sin, death, guilt. He found the God who knew no sin, yet for our sakes became sin. He found Christ Crucified and the hope that comes from knowing that Christ justifies the ungodly. That was Luther’s comfort and it’s ours. This is the message that still rings throughout the entire Christian church. And that’s what drove Luther’s hammer. It may have taken him years more to discover the full weight of the Wittenberg post but it all began with the swing of a hammer.

Reminds me of a portion of a story by a Swedish Lutheran pastor, named Bo Giertz. He wrote a book called, The Hammer of God. Here’s a little scenario between a dying man and a woman with the same hope and comfort as Luther...and you and I

...Katrina, I am a sinner, a great sinner.
Yes, that you are Johannes. But Jesus is a still greater Savior.
...Yes, he is a great Savior for those who let themselves be saved. But my heart is not clean, my mind is evil; I do not have the new spirit.
They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. He came not to call the righteous, but sinners.
Yes, Katrina, but it reads 'to repentance'. It is repentance that I lack.
You do not lack repentance, Johannes, but faith. You have walked the way of repentance for thirty years.
And still not attained to it!
Johannes, said the woman, almost sternly, answer me this question: do you really want your heart to be clean?
Yes, Katrina. God knows that I want that.
Then your repentance is also as true as it can be in a corrupt son of Adam in this world. Your danger is not that you lack repentance, but that you have been drifting away from faith.
What, then, shall I believe, Katrina?
You must believe this living Word of God: 'But to him that worketh not, but believeth in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness.' Up to this day you have believed in works and looked at your own heart. You saw only sin and wretchedness, because God anointed your eye with the salve of the Spirit to see the truth. Do you have sin in your heart, Johannes?
Yes, answered the sick man timidly, much sin, altogether too much.
Just that should make clear to you that God has not forsaken you, said the woman firmly. Only he can see his sin who has the Holy Spirit.
...I mean, Johannes, that if you had received a clean heart and for that reason had been able to earn salvation - to what end would you then need a Savior? If the law could save a single one of us, Jesus surely would not have needed to die on the cross...
...Have you anything else to say, Katrina?
Yes, on more thing, Johannes. Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
Do you mean...? Do you really mean that he takes away also the sin that dwells in my unclean heart?
Yes, he atoned for all that sin, when he died in your place...
...Amen, I believe! said Johannes in a voice that could barely be heard. Katrina rose and put the Bible on the table.
Now God's work has taken place. Now you must ask the pastor to give you the holy sacrament.

And you know what else comes to mind when we hear that Knock! Knock! Knock! of the hammer blow?

The hammer. The nails. The wood. The hands. The feet. The wounds. Christ Crucified. For you.

The sign of your salvation hung over Jesus’ head. Here hangs Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. Your sins are forgiven. Your debt is paid. His wounds are for you. His death is for you. The only indulgence you need is the flesh of Jesus. There’s your guarantee of eternal life. On the cross. Sealed in blood. Vindicated by his resurrection. Poured over you in Baptism. Spoken to you in Absolution. Fed to you in the Lord’s Supper. Those are free gifts for you, because Christ bore the cost for you. Paid in full. It is finished. You are justified. A Blessed Reformation day to you all. Stay Lutheran, my friends.

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Imputed Vestments

Vocation and clothing goes hand in hand, or better still, hand in glove. Painters and spotted pants that look like a Jackson Pollock painting. Movie theater shirts with artificial butter flavoring stains. Coveralls coated in dirt, manure, leaves and grass clippings. Doctors and white coats. Nurses and scrubs. Police officers and the badge. Soldiers and their uniform. Astronauts and their helmets. Pilots and their wings. Pastors and their vestments and black shirts. And with few exceptions (such as public evangelism on college campuses), I always wear the clerical. That's right, I'm the man in black. Whatever your vocation is or whatever uniform you have, you can always tell a lot about a person's vocation by what they wear. 

Every vocation is adorned with some kind of clothing, like a spectrum of colorful feathers. Even in our sin - which brought on the guilt and shame of sin, along with the need for clothing, God dresses his creation in greater array than Solomon in his finest. For if he has clothed the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, will he not also provide for us? Indeed, he does. Even as we are masks of God he masks our guilt and shame by taking that onto himself.

Vocation is as vocation wears. The pastor's vestments aren't just an afterthought or nice decorations. We don't wear them because we think they're pretty (although aesthetic taste is important). We don't wear them because they're always comfortable - most of the time it's hot and stuffy (at least for this son of the Great NW).  We don't wear them to feel better about ourselves. In fact it has nothing to do with ourselves at all (even though we occasionally get free parking because of the cloth).  Christ must increase and I must decrease. Which is why the Lutherans didn't abandon them during the Reformation either.

At the outset, we must again make this preliminary statement: we do not abolish the Mass, but religiously keep and defend it. Masses are celebrated among us every Lord’s Day and on the other festivals. The Sacrament is offered to those who wish to use it, after they have been examined and absolved. And the usual public ceremonies are observed, the series of lessons, of prayers, vestments, and other such things. (Concordia : The Lutheran Confessions. Edited by Paul Timothy McCain. St. Louis, MO : Concordia Publishing House, 2005, S. 220)


Although we use them freely - vestments are not commanded as they were in the OT although there is a great deal of typological parallel - there are manifold reasons why churches and pastors can and should continue the use of vestments. Vestments hide the man in the Office, not draw attention to him or his cool new Hawaiian shirt or snazzy suit; undercover pastors . Even brilliant and beautifully crafted vestments don't call attention to themselves but (should draw their attention) rather to Christ and his saving work. Vestments adorn and signify the Office of the Holy Ministry. Vestments teach us. But above all, vestments point us to Christ's imputed righteousness won for us by his vicarious death on the cross. This is what  Dr. Rod Rosenbladt reminded me about yesterday here at Redeemer as he preached an outstanding Reformation Day sermon.

"That's why I'm wearing this cassock and surplice," he said. "When I got to this district, the people didn't know enough about Christ's imputed righteousness. So, we wear the black to remind us of our sin and the white to that we're covered in Christ's righteousness, which is not our own; it is a gift of the highest order."

Imputed righteous. Declared righteous. Reckoned righteous. The justification of the sinner before God. Imputed means you didn't earn it, deserve it or merit it - not a single bit according to Paul in Romans 1-3. No one is righteous. Apart from Christ we join Adam and Eve in their walk of shame: "Their eyes were open and they realized they were naked." Scripture screams declares time and time again to our old sinful nature: the emperor has no clothes!"

But in Christ you get a whole new wardrobe. New threads from the new creation. While we were still sinners, Christ died for the ungodly. We are covered in the wedding garments. We are clothed in Christ. Covered with his righteousness. Imputed. Christ lived the life you couldn't and died the death you couldn't all to dress you in his glorious robes of imputed righteousness.

So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise. Galatians 3:26-29

Adam and Eve were clothed with a sacrifice. A righteous substitute. An innocent for the guilty. A death in their place. Animal skins to cover their guilt and shame, sin and death. A bloody type of the sacrifice to come. You are clothed with a sacrifice, the sacrifice: Jesus' death on the cross. He is your righteous substitute. The innocent for the guilty. Jesus' skin covers ours. He takes all of our sin and death and ungodliness and gives us his righteousness, life and holiness in exchange. Jesus hangs naked on the cross to clothe us with his imputed righteousness, blessed imputed vestments purchased with his holy, precious blood and with his innocent suffering and death.

These are the imputed vestments of your Baptism. Baptism which buries you with Christ Crucified and raises you in his resurrection; He also clothes you with his death. You are clothed in Christ. And that is the greatest vocation and the greatest clothing line of all. Covered in the blood of Jesus. Covered in the death of Jesus. Covered in the water and the blood by the Spirit. And these three agree. 

I delight greatly in the Lord;
    my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
    and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
    and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. 

(Isaiah 61:10)

Glad Songs of Salvation

"You know, pastor; if there's no music, it's not church."

Bella is right. As I was visiting this member she continued telling the story - of how her mother was an instrumental part of the church she grew up and how they had built a new organ and the congregation rejoiced in singing after so many years of musical silence - and I couldn't help but think (albeit briefly since I was there to listen and bring the Word of Christ) how right she was.

In one sentence, Bella had orchestrated the entire Scriptures. She had joined the people of Israel shouting for victory beside the Red Sea. She had chanted the responsive prayers of the faithful surrounding the tabernacle. She had sung with the choirs of Levi - enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise. She was part of the ancient throng - I was glad when they said to be let us go up to the house of the Lord. She sang with Elizabeth and the angels at the coming Messiah with antiphonal joy. She worshiped with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.

Then we read Psalm 118. And though Bella is hard of hearing, there was no doubt she heard the shouts of the righteous - the rushing waters and the roar of the Lion, in her ears - as I shouted the Psalm loud enough to break the barriers of old age. Indeed, "glad songs of salvation are in the tents of the righteous," even when those songs are trumpeted loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Perhaps they too joined in our song. This afternoon, church came to Bella's house. The music may not have been all that pleasing to my ears, but it was to hers. "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth...come into his presence with singing;" and if need be, shouting.