Beginning Advent with C.S. Lewis

Thanks to the internet geeks (and I use that term with admiration) at Biblegateway.com, I am able to receive a daily reading from the writings of C.S. Lewis right onto my iPhone via email. It makes for a fantastic start to the morning along with the new Pray Now app from Concordia Publishing House which has daily readings from the Scriptures as well as other notable church writers (FYI it's the e-pub version of Treasury of Daily Prayer).

Earlier in the month of November, I also received a copy of A World Waits: Daily Reflections in Advent from the works of C.S. Lewis published by Creative Communications for the Parish.

At any rate, the real point of posting all of that was to get to this point. There are some superbly chosen readings in both places. For instance, yesterday as Advent began, the two following readings came across my desk and email inbox. The readings below are from Miracles and The Last Battle, both of which have a great deal to say to us as this Advent season begins. For Advent is a season of endings and beginnings. It is a season of "back to the future". Kind of like driving; we keep close watch of the road that goes ever on before us, but we dare not lose sight of what lies in our rear view mirrors. In Advent we look forward to Christ's return by looking backwards to Christ's incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection.

There are many resources out there for your reading during this Advent season, but as you read the Scripture readings and sing the sublime hymns of Advent I suggest beginning the Advent season with Lewis. Here's what I mean...

The central miracle of Christianity is the Incarnation. They say that God became Man. Every other miracle prepares for this, or exhibits this, or results from this. Just as every natural event is the manifestation at a particular place and moment of Nature's total character, so every particular Christian miracle manifests at a particular place and moment the character and significance of the Incarnation.

In the Christian story god descends to reascend. He comes down; down from the heights of absolute being into time and space, down from humanity; down further still, if the embryologists are right, to recapitulate in the womb ancient and pre-human phases of life; down to the very roots and seabed of the Nature He has created. But he goes down to come up again and bring the whole ruined world with Him. One has the picture of a  strong man stooping lower and lower to get himself underneath some great complicated burden. He must stoop in order to lift, he must almost disappear under the load before he incredibly straightens his back and marches off with the whole mass swaying on his shoulders. (Miracles, C.S. Lewis, p. 173, 179)

 + + +

Aslan turned to them and said: “You do not yet look so happy as I mean you to be.” Lucy said, “We’re so afraid of being sent away, Aslan. And you have sent us back into our own world so often.”
“No fear of that,” said Aslan. “Have you not guessed?” Their hearts leaped, and a wild hope rose within them. “There was a real railway accident,” said Aslan softly. “Your father and mother and all of you are—as you used to call it in the Shadowlands— dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning.”

And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before. (The Last Battle, C.S. Lewis, p. 210-211).

Sermon for Advent 1: "Jesus' Advent in Glory"

+ 1^st Sunday in Advent, December 1^st, 2013 +

Redeemer Lutheran, HB

Series A: Isaiah 2:1-5; Romans 13:8-14; Matthew 24:36-44

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

Stir up Your power, O Lord, and come, that by Your protection we may be rescued from the threatening perils of our sins and saved by Your mighty deliverance.

Come. That’s the word of the day. The word of Advent. The word of our Christian life. Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Jesus came in the flesh. Jesus will come in glory. Jesus comes in His body and blood.

Today the church year begins. Advent begins, a season of arrivals and preparation. A season of waiting and expectation. 

The world says: “Hurry up! Buy more. Buy now. Why wait? Only 24 days until Christmas.” And yet our Lord cries out to His Church: “Concerning that day or hour no one knows. Therefore, stay awake for you do not know the day of your Lord’s coming. Be ready, prepared.”

 

Advent is so much more than pre-Christmas. Advent is an oasis of patience and humility in a desert of consumption and self-indulgence. Advent is a season of hope and joyful anticipation in a world that celebrates and idolizes instant gratification.

In Advent we look forward and backward. Backward to Jesus’ first coming in humility – a Virgin mother, a manger, a home in Nazareth, no place to lay His head, the suffering Servant, the cross. And forward to Jesus’ second coming in glory – the shout from heaven, the archangel’s trumpet, the clouds, the judgment, the resurrection, the power, and the glory.

The first Sunday in Advent is a kind of “back to the future” day. We look backwards to Jesus’ teaching about the future. “For,” as St. Paul writes, “salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the Day is at hand.”

Stir up Your power, O Lord, and come.

But how exactly does the Lord’s power come? What are we praying for? The Lord’s power isn’t exactly safe. It’s like electricity. It can only be used with the proper means to handle it: cables, wires, plugs, outlets – you get the point. So too with the Lord’s power. It’s not safe to handle without the proper means, without a mediator. So, God hides his glory and power in earthly means for your good. Like Moses on Mt. Sinai, hidden in the rock from the glory of the Lord. Like the priests in the tabernacle as YHWH hid himself in the smoke and fire. Like the angels in Isaiah 6, shielding their eyes. Like the Israelites, who walked on dry land as the Lord’s power buried Pharaoh’s army in a watery grave. Or like Noah, hidden in the ark while the power of the Lord flooded the earth for 40 days and 40 nights. 

Stir up Your power, O Lord, and come. 

To pray that prayer is to pray against ourselves. It is to pray a death sentence on our sin. To pray for the drowning of our quarrelsome, jealous, drunken, idolatrous Old Adam. To pray that all our works of sin would be cast out. This is the power of God’s Law: it exposes our sinful heart of darkness; it kills and destroys all that stands between us and the Lord. And that is a good thing to pray for. Repentance is part of Advent. Keep watch. Stay awake. 

Like Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia, the Lord is not a tame God. But he is good. For there is another power of the Lord. 

Stir up Your power, O Lord, and come. “The Gospel is the power of salvation for all who believe.” And this is a power unlike any other. This is not the Lord’s irresistible, raw power. But His power hidden, handled in the proper means: water, word, bread, and wine. This is the way of the manger and the crown of thorns and the cross. God’s power comes in weakness, humility, suffering, and death. 

So in our Advent lives we live like Elijah. For the Lord was not in the mighty wind or the earthquake but in the hidden, quiet voice of His Word. That Word who promises: “Behold, I am coming soon.” That Word who calls us to pray: “Come, Lord Jesus.” “Stay awake, for you do not know the day or the hour that your Lord is coming.”

To be sure, there is warning here. But there is also great comfort. Jesus is coming soon. And these aren’t the words of some crank on the street corner with a cardboard sign. These are the words of the One who died and rose again; and the sign over his head reads: Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. 

Like Moses, you are hidden in the pierced wounds of Jesus. Jesus is your priest, robed in your humanity. Jesus is your sacrifice. Though your sins were as scarlet you shall be white as snow. Though you were a child of the darkness you’re a child of the Light of the world. Like Isaiah, your iniquity has been taken away at the altar. Your lips have touched the holy coals of Christ’s body and blood. Like Israel you are saved by the power of the Lord as your enemies of sin, death, and the devil lay in the watery abyss of the font.  Like Noah you are hidden in the holy ark of Christ’s church, kept safe from the raging flood. Kept safe by wood and nails and water. 

Want to know your future? Look back to the cross. Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, your sin.

And in looking backwards, we look forwards. Looking back to when Christ came in humility we look forward when he will come again in glory.

Advent is a season of watching and waiting. Our Christian lives during Advent – as in all seasons - are lived like those early mornings, just before the alarm goes off. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. It’s still dark, but there the dawn is piercing the horizon. You may feel like tossing the covers over your head, rolling over, and go back to sleep, but it’s time to wake up. Get ready! Your King is coming to you. Salvation is nearer now than when you first believed. 

After all, what are you waiting for, darkness or light? Condemnation or salvation? You are baptized. You are clothed with Christ. You are children of the uncreated light. Children of an endless Day. Your sin has been put away in Christ’s cross, buried forever in his tomb. Therefore live as a child of the light. 

Rejoice this Advent. Rejoice as we hear about our Lord’s coming in human flesh. His coming in Jerusalem to save you. His coming in glory to resurrect you. But rejoice that he comes even now. There’s a little bit of Advent in every Lord’s Supper. Stir up your power, O Lord, and come. And he does, hidden in bread and wine. His body is here for you, powerful to save and nourish your sin-starved bodies. Take, eat. His blood is poured out for you; it is His power of salvation to quench your sin-parched lips. Take, drink. Our Lord comes for you.

There’s no better way to celebrate Advent than to receive our Lord’s Holy Word and Sacraments. There’s no better way to prepare, watch, and wait than this Divine Service. No better way to await Jesus’ coming in glory than to be here, where Jesus comes for you.

Once He came; soon He comes.

Once He came by way of a Virgin mother; soon He comes with the angels.
Once He came by way of the crib and cross; soon He comes with the glory of heaven
Once He came riding atop a borrowed donkey; soon He comes with clouds descending
Once He came as a beggar King; soon He comes as the King of kings.
Once He came to die; soon He comes to raise the dead.
Once He came in weakness; soon He comes in power.
Once He came to be judged; soon He comes to judge.
Once He came to save us; soon He comes to give us salvation.

Stir up your power, O Lord, and come. Come quickly.

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

Sermon for Thanksgiving Day: "The Bread of Life"

+ Day of Thanksgiving, November 28^th, 2013 +

St. Michael’s Lutheran - Portland, OR

Psalm 100; Deut. 26:1-11; Philippians 4:4-9; John 6:25-35

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

 “Give us this day our daily bread,” we pray. And of course daily bread is more than that baked lump of dough loafing around on your table. Daily Bread includes all that is needed for this body and life. Bread is sustenance and life.

But there’s a bit of irony in Jesus’ words “I AM the Bread of Life.”

Because whether or not you top it with melted butter or home-made raspberry jam; whether you call it artisan, organic, or fresh-baked; as good as it tastes, bread is the food of the fall:

"...cursed is the ground because of you;

in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life;

thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you;

and you shall eat the plants of the field.

By the sweat of your face

you shall eat bread,

till you return to the ground,

for out of it you were taken;

for you are dust,

and to dust you shall return.”

As Grandpa Schuldheisz used to say: “The whiter the bread the quicker you’re dead.” Bread is the food of death.  East of Eden, bread equals labor. When you plop that dinner roll on the heap of your thanksgiving plate today think about how much work it took to get there.

Seeds are sown. The farmer harvests. The miller grinds. The baker bakes. The truck delivers. The shelves are stocked. The grocer sells. Then you buy, with money earned from your labor, unless it’s homemade. Either way, God uses the fruit of his creation to feed, sustain, and bless our bodies.

It was true in the Old Testament: manna in the wilderness; bread in the sacrifices of the tabernacle and temple; bread in the Passover. It’s true in the New Testament: Jesus is born in Bethlehem, the “House of Bread.” Jesus fed thousands. Jesus ate and drank with sinners. Jesus is the Bread of Life. God gives through means.

For God’s people thanksgiving is remembering. Remembering what Christ gives us and how he gives it to us. Remembering the Giver and the gift.

So it’s good to thank farmers, butchers, and bakers – all those people doing dirty jobs serving others. We give thanks knowing that God works through others to provide and protect His creation. God is hidden behind these extraordinarily ordinary “masks.” Certainly God could zap food on our table like a wizard, but He gives through means.

Thanksgiving is remembering. O bless the Lord, my soul and forget not all his benefits (Psalm 103).

But we do. We forget. We overlook God’s hidden work through earthly means. We idolize the gift and ignore the Giver. We treat Jesus like a divine bread machine. We’re no different than the crowds following Jesus, so anxious, worried, and grumbling about what we don’t have, that we forget what we do have. “Do not labor for food that perishes, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.”

Thanksgiving is remembering. But remembering works two ways. Thanksgiving begins, not in the poverty of our heart, but in the richness of a Giving God. Before God we’re all beggars. Thanksgiving isn’t about what you do for God, but about what God does for you. Jesus doesn’t benefit from our thanking Him. It’s the other way around. Christ gives into empty hands. The more we thank God the Father through Jesus Christ His dear Son, the more we recognize how generously and bountifully He deals with us.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the Eucharist. That’s Greek for “thanksgiving.” It’s another name for the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist. And true Thanksgiving is to receive the Lord’s Supper. All other thanksgiving feasts are but a shadow. There is no higher worship of Christ than to receive his gifts. We Christians are a Eucharistic people.

For man does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. “I AM the Bread of Life...Eat of this bread, and you will live forever.”  Ordinary bread we eat to our death. Even the manna in the wilderness didn’t save Israel. But the Bread of Life is different.

In the Eucharist, Jesus takes ordinary, earthly bread and turns it into an extraordinary, heavenly meal. Jesus takes the bread of the fall and redeems it in his death. The food of the curse is now the food of blessing. It’s not metaphorical, symbolic, or figurative language. Jesus means what he says. Jesus’ is your Bread of Life. The Eucharist is your Bread of Life.

Here’s the one feast that won't run out, or leave you full and feeling sick afterwards. This meal endures - unlike the mashed potatoes, gravy, drumsticks, and the Lions winning record.

I AM the Bread of Life. And how is bread made? Seeds of grain are cast into the earth, harvested, ground into flour, mixed with yeast and other ingredients, kneaded, baked, and finally consumed. So it is with Jesus, the Bread of Life. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies it remains alone; but if it dies it bears much fruit.” Jesus’ body and blood, given and shed for you, true living fruit from the cross. Give us this day our daily Bread of Life.

Now there’s a reason for thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is remembering. Remembering that Jesus’ death is your life. And Jesus remembering your sins no more – all our grumbling, doubt, worry, and ungrateful sinfulness - forgiven.

“I AM the Living Bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this Bread he will live forever. And the bread that I give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

Come to the Altar, eat, drink, and live. Jesus, the Bread of Life, is your host, waiter, and food.

A blessed Eucharist to you all.

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

Diary of an Advent Father

Note: The piece below was written for Redeemer's annual Advent by Candlelight. It's always a joy to be a part of this wonderful Advent tradition. Enjoy. And a blessed Advent to you all.

Advent is a season of waiting. The world says: “Hurry up! Buy more. Buy now. Why wait? Only 33 days until Christmas.” Humbug to all of that, I say. There’s a better way to spend your Advent and Christmas seasons.

Advent is so much more than pre-Christmas. Advent is a season of waiting, an oasis of patience in a dessert of consumption. Advent is a season of hope and expectation in a world of instant gratification. Advent is a season that calls us to focus on Christ who came, who is yet to come, and still comes among us now. In Advent we join the prophets of the OT in waiting. And we join Mary in her waiting too.

But what about Joseph? How did he spend his time during that first advent? We’re not told a whole lot about Joseph in the Gospels. At first this might cause us to wonder off into theological day dreams, or ask mysterious questions we’ll never get answers to, or write amusing stories for Advent celebrations. But as it turns out, this is as it should be.

For one thing, and let’s be honest here, the father isn’t the first person visitors come to see when a new baby is born. People are concerned about how the mother is doing, and rightly so. But most of all, the child is the center of attention. It’s no different for Joseph and Mary. The Gospel writers focus on neither of them very long and when they do it’s always in relation to Jesus. For the joy of the Christmas story is found in another Son of David, the Son born of the Virgin Mary.

But we do know a few things about Joseph. He was a carpenter as his father was before him; and it’s reasonable to conclude that Jesus learned the art of wood-working as well. He lived in Nazareth of Galilee which means he wasn’t exactly clothed like Solomon and he certainly didn’t live in a palace like his ancestor, King David. His name “Joseph” means “God will add”.  And this brings us to one final point.  For as it turns out, there was a lot God would add to Jesus’ life through Joseph even if he hadn’t given him life.

When he wanted to divorce Mary quietly, he was motivated to do so in order that Mary and Jesus-still-in-the-womb would not die by stoning, which was the legal consequence of adultery when betrothed. When they married early, it was to protect Mary and Jesus’ reputation in their hometown . When they left to go to Bethlehem it was to fulfill his duty as citizen, but also to provide a place for Jesus to be born, thus fulfilling the words of the OT prophets. Joseph’s ancestral name gave Jesus the legal status as an heir of the house of David. And later he even protected Jesus as an infant when they fled to Egypt and came home by another route, thus avoiding Herod’s malice and attempted infanticide. Indeed, Joseph was a true guardian, like his OT namesake.

And while we don’t know a whole lot about Joseph, the important details we do know point us right back to Jesus. For everything Joseph did was for Jesus: the giving of His name. His legal status. Joseph’s guardianship and merciful care. No doubt Joseph waited for many things in his life too. And like all fathers, those long months were some of the most thought-provoking days and weeks, filled with anticipation of Jesus’ advent.

So tonight we take a brief look at a diary of an advent father. An earthly father chosen by His heavenly Father to tend, guard, and raise up the very Son of God in human flesh – and dad’s thought they have it hard now! Talk about pressure.

But first, a disclaimer. Almost all of this is sanctified speculation. Granted, many of the historical details are drawn from reputable historians, including the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. This is purely a literary device. And, Lord willing, this little piece will do the same thing for you that Joseph does for all of us, namely, point you to Jesus during this Advent season.

1.       Nazareth - 6 B.C.: Went to the well today. Water running low. Too much sawdust in the workshop. Met another member of the tribe of Judah there, a young lady, no doubt a distant relative. But there was something about her. What was her name again? Ah, yes, Mary (Miriam in the Greek). Well, Nazareth is a small town. We’re bound to meet again. That reminds me… Jacob met his wife Rachel at a well.

2.      Nazareth - 6 B.C.: Talked to father and mother today. They were happy to talk with Mary’s parents about betrothal and marriage. She’s from a humble yet good family. Though she is poor – but really, who isn’t in Nazareth – we have common ancestry, the family tree goes all the way back to the royal line of David. Father says he’ll talk to her parents tomorrow and discuss the details. Can’t forget to have mother set aside some of the finer wine for the cup we share at the betrothal ceremony. 

3.      Nazareth – 6 B.C.: Can’t write. Dazed. Confused. Furious. What am I going to do now? Must. Chop. Wood.

…Needed that. Cathartic. Calmed down a bit, at least for now. So, Mary’s pregnant. Didn’t see that coming. Obviously the child’s not mine. She said something about an angelic announcement, the Son of the Most High, and the child being born by the Holy Spirit. I don’t know. It all sounds a little too convenient. I just don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. I could marry her quickly and hope none of the chirping birds in Nazareth notice – oh, who am I kidding? Can’t hide anything in a small town. There’s always public divorce. But the Torah states that a betrothed woman is to be stoned if found guilty of adultery. I can’t do that. That may be what’s fair under the Law, but that’s not the just or righteous thing to do at least not according to the Psalms: the Lord is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. I  guess all that’s left is to set aside the marriage contract quietly. Send Mary off somewhere safe to have the baby. Whatever happens, she can’t get hurt. Must protect mother and the child.

4.      Nazareth – 6 B.C.: Couldn’t sleep last night. I feel like I’m living in a story right out of Genesis. Strange dreams. Angelic appearances. What’s next? A burning bush? Manna from heaven?  “Don’t be afraid,” the angel said. “Don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”  Hmm, Mary was right all along. What a fool I was, a real Balaam’s ass. Divorce? Send her packing? What was I thinking?

I know what people will think; but it wasn’t anything I ate. It was real. What that angel told me last night - confirms everything Mary said. “She will bear a son and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” It all makes sense now. Gotta run. Have to tell Mary. Don’t care what our family says…or the people of Nazareth. Time to move up that wedding.

5.       Nazareth – 5 B.C.: Roman messenger came to town today. Posted an Imperial edict and left rather quickly. Huh, no wonder. Caesar wants a census. A registration of all citizens. I know what that means: more taxes. And more travel. Subjects are ordered to enroll themselves at ancestral home, says the edict. So, it’s off to Bethlehem. Better tell Mary. She’s not going to be happy about a 5-day journey on a donkey.

(Later that evening) Saddlebags are packed. Route mapped out. 80-90 miles by my calculations. Best if we take the southeastern route. Going through Samaria would be quicker…but risky. Father says the Plains of Esdraelon are warmer this time of year. Mary will appreciate that. Then we’ll head south along the Jordan River as far as Jericho and up to Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Now to get that stubborn mule ready.

Judean Countryside – 5 B.C.: Last night on the road. Thank the Lord. This ground feels about as good on the back as it does on the feet after 4 days. And that donkey is really getting on my nerves. Tomorrow we’ll reach Bethlehem by nightfall. Hope to find accommodations. Mary is great with child. He’s coming soon. All the signs are here. And just this morning, Mary recited the Scriptures she had heard in Synagogue.

 But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old,
from ancient days.

6.      Bethlehem – 5 B.C.: Made it to Bethlehem. Finally. The inn was full. But thankfully a kind innkeeper pointed us to a grotto out behind the inn. It’s no palace. Rather cave-like. But it’s shelter. And plenty of feed for that donkey – ah, the sounds of silence…

...Wait, what was that noise? That was no donkey…

What a joyous night. Joy beyond all telling! So much to say. So little time. Must write quickly. Visitors coming down the road. Mary gave birth. It’s a boy! She wrapped him in cloths and laid him in the feeding trough. But this is no ordinary Son – that much I know for sure. Too many coincidences. Mary’s account. The Dream. The Angel. The prophets. Could it be that here, in Bethlehem, in the House of Bread – the birthplace of David, the place where Samuel anointed King David – that the Word of the Lord is coming to pass? It all sounds too good to be true…

…Talk about strange visitors. Shepherds. Odd folk, but good and honest. Don’t have their tunics in a bunch like those city folk. They were out tending the sheep for the sacrifices in Jerusalem. And then there was a great commotion. An awful lot of exuberant chatter. More angels – a host of them. They heard singing and praising God. Signs and mangers. Messiah. Savior. Peace on earth and Glory to God. And then they hurried here. Had to tell us all about it. Had to see the Child. They left glorifying and praising God. Mary is holding the child, pondering and treasuring these things in her heart. And I can’t help but feeling a bit like a shepherd now too.

7.      Jerusalem – 5 B.C.: It’s been 8 days since that sublime night.  Went to Jerusalem today. Up to the temple. He was circumcised. The sign of the covenant, the Lord’s promise. Today the Law is fulfilled. And today…he was given the name Jesus, just as the angel had instructed. Jesus, the Lord (Yahweh) saves. Just like Joshua. That’s what the angel said, “Name him Jesus; for he will save his people from their sins.”

Sermon for The Last Sunday of the Church Year: "Thy Kingdom Come"

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+ Last Sunday of the Church Year – November 24^th, 2013 +

Redeemer Lutheran, HB

Proper 29, Series C: Malachi 3:13-18; Colossians 1:13-20; Luke 23:27-43

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

Today feels a bit like church year déjà vu, doesn’t it? We’re celebrating the end of the Church Year and yet the Gospel reading is from Holy Week. We’re anticipating Christ’s second coming and yet we’re hearing about his crucifixion. Isn’t this all a bit backwards?

Actually, this is how you live your lives as Christian pilgrims. We look forward to the future while holding on to the past. We preach Christ Crucified and proclaim His promised return. You can trust his promises about his return because of his saving work in the past. The Lord is faithful. So, think of the Last Sunday of the Church Year as the Church’s Nunc Dimittis. We sing with Simeon and the criminal: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace. Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Or as we pray in the Lord’s prayer: “Thy Kingdom Come.” There it is; in three little words – Jesus’ crucifixion and His return. Good Friday and the Last Day.

Thy Kingdom Come.

Good Friday and Jesus’ second coming have a lot more in common than you think. Good Friday is a snap-shot of the Last Day. After all, Good Friday is the beginning of the end times.

Thy Kingdom Come.

Still, we want to know when. When is Jesus going to come in glory? When will he finally put an end to my sin and suffering? When will he put an end to cancer wards and graveyards? When will he wipe away all tears from our eyes? Thy Kingdom come…what does this mean? The kingdom of God certainly comes by itself without our prayer, but we pray that it may come to us also.

So, when is Jesus’ kingdom going to come?

According to Luke’s Gospel it’s already here. Every sign that Jesus gives warning about the End Times happened at his crucifixion: darkness, earthquakes, rumors of war, persecution, suffering, and judgment. Jesus’ crucifixion is the beginning of the end. Even the events of the crucifixion sound like the end of the world:

The women weep and wail for Jesus. But Jesus replies, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.” Jesus’ words are a two-fold warning. Warning about the Romans, the temple destruction, and how much worse it will be for women and children. But he’s also warning all of us about the Last Day. “If they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry.” That’s how the end times work. Things go from bad to worse and worse to worst before they get better.

Thy Kingdom Come.

As the kingdom comes on the cross, so does the mockery. The religious types cry out: “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!”  The soldiers also mocked him with their cheep wine and sour sarcasm: “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” And then one final insult, an inscription over his head, “This is the King of the Jews.”

Of course none of them believe what they’re saying – that’s the mockery. But here’s the irony. They’re right. Jesus is the Christ, the Chosen One. Jesus is the King…of the Jews and the Gentiles, you and me. King Jesus, enthroned on the cross. Robed in our sin. Crowned with our suffering. Reigning over death while dying.

Thy Kingdom Come.

For even here on the cross, especially here on the cross, Jesus is King of kings, Lord of lords. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, Son of God, Savior of the nations… This is the King in His kingdom as it appears in this world. On our hearts imprint this image: Jesus crucified for me, for you.

There’s comfort for us in Jesus being mocked. The Church is mocked. You’ll be mocked for believing Christian doctrine too: That the Bible is God’s Word; that it’s historically reliable; that God gives life includes unborn children. God’s gift of sexuality, marriage, and family just to name a few in the headlines these days. Why? The world mocks the Gospel. The world hates free grace, unconditional pardon of sin, and forgiven sinners. “You’re letting guilty people off the hook” they say. And they’re right. That’s the Gospel: Outrageous forgiveness for undeserving sinners. So don’t be surprised when you are mocked for believing and proclaiming this Gospel too. For the disciple is not greater than his master. So when the world hates you know that it hated Jesus first. But fear not, Christ has overcome the world too.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Thy Kingdom Come.

Jesus’ cross is also a picture of judgment day. For in Jesus, the world is already judged. “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:17) Jesus is all of humanity in one Man, the second Adam. His death is humanity’s death; His death is the death of the world. His death is the world’s Last Day in type. The innocent for the guilty. That’s the pattern Jesus lays down for us when he lays down his own life.

That other criminal got it. “…we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” He confesses Christ. Jesus is innocent. More than that; he is sinless. And yet for our sakes God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us. On the cross Jesus is the criminal, the blasphemer, the rebel, the murderer, the adulterer, the thief, the liar, the gossiper, the coveter. On the cross Jesus became your sin.

The judgment you had coming on the Last Day, Jesus takes for you. He takes your record of sins and drenches it in his blood, rips up your laundry list of sin and throws it into the grave. In the salvation of this criminal next to Jesus we see our own. We - the guilty ones – are pardoned. And Christ suffers innocent for us. We – sinners all – are declared righteous. And Jesus is declared cursed on the tree.

“This man has done nothing wrong,” and yet this Man dies as one who has done everything wrong, forsaken by God, condemned, persecuted, mocked, ridiculed, damned. He gets what we deserve so that, in the end, we get what He deserves. It is finished.

Thy Kingdom Come.

We need to hear those words over and over again. For everything in this life cries out, “No it isn’t. Just look around you. It’s a mess. Life is one bitter tragedy after the next.” Against all that the devil, the world, and our sinful flesh hurl at us Jesus’ words stand true: “It is finished.”

In Christ’s judgment on the cross we see a marvelous picture of Christ’s return. You hear the final verdict of the Last Day ahead of time: Come you who are blessed by my father…inherit the kingdom prepare for you before the foundations of the world. Jesus’ kingdom comes among us without our prayer, or our efforts. It comes by promise: “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Jesus’ words are pure gift. Words that are as true today as the day Jesus spoke them. “You will be with me in Paradise.” “When?” “Today.” “How? I don’t see it. This looks like Paradise lost.” “Don’t fear. Today you’ll be with me in paradise.”

Jesus’ two most important words in that sentence are: “With me.” Paradise is wherever Jesus is. Jesus brings you Paradise in the waters of Holy Baptism. Jesus brings you paradise in the absolution. Jesus brings paradise to earth at the holy altar.

It’s the same as praying, “Thy Kingdom Come.” And how does Jesus’ kingdom come? “God’s kingdom comes when our heavenly Father gives us his Holy Spirit, so that by his grace we believe His holy Word and lead godly lives here in time and there in eternity.”

Wherever you have Jesus, there’s His kingdom. Jesus’ kingdom comes in water and Word. Jesus’ kingdom comes in the forgiveness of sins. Jesus’ kingdom comes in bread and wine to feed and forgive you.

That’s how we live in these latter days. The same way that second thief on the cross lived and died confessing: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”  This is how faith prays. He asks for nothing but to be remembered by Jesus. He doesn’t ask to be saved from the cross, to be spared his suffering, to be granted a last minute pardon, as the other one did. When death is unavoidable, faith embraces death and prays, “Jesus, remember me.” So it is for us. Jesus, remember us in our grief and sorrow. Remember us in the hour of temptation. Remember us in illness and in death. Stay with us, Lord, for it is evening, and the day is almost over.

And Jesus is with you. That’s why he didn’t leave the cross. He stayed there for you. Pierced for you. Bled for you. Breathed his last for you. Died for you. Buried for you. Rose for you. And he will come again for you.

Thy Kingdom Come!

He has…and He will…and He does. The One who comes on the Last Day to judge is the same One who was judged for you on the cross. The One who comes on the Last Day is the One who comes to you today with the gifts of His sacrifice. Today we pray the prayer of faith: “Jesus, remember me.” Knowing that Jesus’ response is always the same: “Amen, I say to you, today, you will be with me in Paradise.”

Thy Kingdom Come. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

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