Sermon for Christmas Eve - Lessons and Carols: "The Christmas Road"

 + The Nativity of Our Lord – Christmas Eve, December 24th, 2025 +

Service of Lessons and Carols

Genesis 3:8-15; 17-19; Genesis 22:15-19; Isaiah 9:2-7; Isaiah 11:1-9; Luke 1:26-38; Luke 2:1-7; Luke 2:8-20; Matthew 2:1-12; John 1:1-14

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Wherever you find Christmas you’ll find a journey. A quest. An adventure. So Clark W. Griswold sets out with his family in his 4-wheel sleigh on a quest for the perfect Christmas tree. Kevin McCallister’s mother sets out on a journey from Paris back to Chicago where her son is home alone. Ebenezer Scrooge is whisked away on an adventure through Christmas past, present, and future.

 

Whether it’s over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house you go, or your travels are more local, wherever you find Christmas, you’ll find a journey. And this is no accident. 

 

After all, the first Christmas is the story of a pilgrimage packed with God’s promises. A grand and gracious odyssey wherein God became man. Jesus, the Son of Mary and Son of God, goes on a holy journey to justify and rescue sinners. The holy God comes down; a humble birth from a humble Virgin in a humble town. Christ embarks upon a Christmas quest to seek and save the lost.

 

The difference is, however, that this Christmas quest really happened. Not once upon a time. Not in a galaxy far, far away. But in the days of Caesar Augustus. When Quirinius was governor of Syria. In the City of David. In Bethlehem of Judea. 

 

And our Lord’s footsteps of this first Christmas pilgrimage echo throughout Scripture. The trail of this holy journey stretches all the way from Christ’s cradle back to the dawn of creation.

 

That’s where the Christmas road begins. Not in Bethlehem, but in Eden. Why at Jesus’ birth are we going back to the beginning? 

 

Before the angels pierce the night with their Glorias. Before the shepherds make haste to the holy child in the manger there’s this: a trail of tears and sin and death that leads all the way back to Paradise lost. A world gone wrong. And people broken. Lost. Stumbling in the night. Aching and longing for life. Wholeness – in ruins and brokenness. Shalom – spoiled and shattered. Light – overshadowed by darkness. Life – swallowed up by death. God and man…and man and woman – fractured by rebellion. 

 

And yet…there’s a glimmer of hope in the darkness. Already in Genesis we hear the pitter patter of our Lord’s infant feet running around the hallways of this world. The Lord who walked in the cool of the garden with man promised that one day he too would be made man. And tread the serpent under foot and stomp him into the dust forever.

 

I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring;
he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.

 

What was foretold in Eden is fulfilled in Bethlehem. The Seed of Eve came forth in the Seed of Mary. God in the flesh steps foot onto our trail of trespasses. Jesus walks head, feet, and hands first into the mess of our sin and brokenness.

 

And so the Christmas road goes ever on and on…

 

Just around the bend is Mt. Moriah. The place where YHWH told Abraham to traverse with his son, his only son Isaac. The son of promise. Of blessing. Of the covenant. It was a sojourn that ended in sacrifice. A pilgrimage that ended in a pyre. But not for Isaac. YHWH spared Abraham’s son. Why? So that in the fullness of time, further on down the Christmas road, he sent forth his Son, his only begotten Son. From all eternity, sent to save all humanity. Isaac was spared the sacrifice so that Jesus would become the sacrifice for Abraham, Isaac, you and me, and the whole world.

 

And so the Christmas road goes ever on and on. Our holy trek leads us further down the trail from Abraham and Isaac to Isaiah. He walks with us as he did with Israel - in the darkness. In the night of sin. In the abyss of idolatry. In the muck and mire and messiness of our broken lives. But Isaiah holds a torch. Sacred fire gleams forth in the night. A lighthouse in the gale. A word of promise.

 

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone…For unto us a child is born. And unto us a Son is given.

 

Even the flora and fauna of this groaning creation declare the coming glory of Christ’s birth. Along the Christmas road there are many stumps. Snags. Dead marshes. But a root sprouts forth. A shoot from the stump of Jesse. A righteous branch will be born, bearing neither bark nor wood but our very flesh and blood and bone. He comes in the Spirit of the Lord, and is the Lord incarnate. And his resting place - in the manger, in Mary’s arms, on the cross, and in the grave - his resting place is glorious. For he is your rest.

 

And so the Christmas road goes ever on and on…from Eden to Isaiah. And from the child the prophets foretold, to the promise fulfilled. The Christmas road winds down the trail of history and Scripture. From Malachi to Mary. Centuries of silence. And yet, not all who wander are lost.

 

God sent a messenger. Gabriel is sent to Nazareth of Galilee. Out of the long, dark years of wandering, the Christmas road reaches its terminus. Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.

 

From Nazareth to the nativity. From Gabriel’s declaration to Mary’s delivery. The days were accomplished. Promise made. Promise kept. What the prophets had long foretold was fulfilled. She brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger.

 

And yet Mary and Joseph and the infant, incarnate God are not alone on the Christmas road. Shepherds hit the trail as well. The night sky opened up. The hillside came alive with a holy tremble. And good news filled the air.

 

Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

 

They made haste. They sprinted down the Christmas road and found their Good Shepherd, and yours, lying in a manger. A lowly birth for lowly shepherds and lowly, lost sinners like us. Fellow pilgrims on the Christmas road.

 

The magi, also join this pilgrimage of promise, following a star to the toddler who is Light of Light. And very God of very God. Begotten. Not made. 

 

From Bethlehem to Jerusalem. From Jesus’ cradle to his cross. From the arms of Mary to his arms stretched out in rescue. From being surrounded by shepherds to being surrounded by and dying for sinners. Tonight the Christmas road goes ever on for us as well.

 

Christmas is a journey. Not our journey to find God. But his journey to find. Save. Rescue you.

At Christmas, our Lord calls us to a grand and gracious adventure. Come to the manger and discover the good news that God himself has made his own pilgrimage to rescue you and bring you along the Christmas road. A road that winds over hill and dale, up the hill to the cross, down under the earth and into the grave, but out again alive in resurrection.

 

Christmas is a journey. Jesus’ holy quest to save you and bring you from sin and sadness to freedom and joy. From darkness to light. From death to life. And from this broken, fallen, messy world, to resurrection, new creation, and our eternal home in Jesus.

 

A blessed Christmas to each of you…

 

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

 

Sermon for Advent 4: "Holy Words. Holy Names"

 + 4^th Sunday in Advent – December 21^st, 2024 +

Series A: Isaiah 7:10-17; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

It’s said that a picture is worth a thousand words. And yet there are some words that have a story all of their own to tell. A single word can contain thousands of words. A word can bring to mind endless words. Endless stories. Some words have a whole world within their letters. 

 

Think of home. Rest. Christmas. We hear a few of those kinds of words this morning in God’s holy word: Son.  Emmanuel.  Jesus.

 

Although in all honesty, if we were standing in Joseph’s sandals the first words that come to mind would be words like fear. Confusion. Shock. Sin. Betrayal.

 

So God sends his messenger. One of his holy angels to deliver better words to Joseph’s ears.

 

Consolation. Holy. Awe. Wonder. Promise.

 

“Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.  She will bear a son

 

Do not fear, Joseph. Yes, people will talk. They’ll whisper and wonder the worst about you and your betrothed. They’ll wag their fingers and heads in shame. They’ll cast their judgmental eyes your way and hers and the child’s. But fear not, Joseph, son of David for Mary is carrying the promised Son of David in her womb. From the Holy Spirit. She will bear a Son who is David’s Son, yet David’s Lord.

 

Son. There’s a whole world in that word. Son takes us back to the beginning. Back to Genesis and Eden. To the tree and the temptation. To the betrayal and rebellion and death that poisoned all that God declared very good. But also to the promise. A child born of a woman. A Son who will stomp the serpent into the dust forever. A holy child born to deliver all of Adam’s fallen children. Joseph. You. Me. 

 

So the angel’s words are for Joseph, but they’re for you too. Do not fear. For though we all have our own sin and sorrows, fears and failures, doubts and death to wrestle with – all of those words and realities are held by the one born of the woman. 

 

It is for us as it was for Joseph. God’s word and promise must be revealed to us. On our own we’re in the dark. Alone. Confused. Trapped in our own grave. Caught in our own snares. Enslaved by our own desires and self-made deities. Tossed to and fro by our own fears, worries, doubts, and despair. 

 

But then along comes a word. Son. The Son of David. The Son of Mary. The Son of God. 

Or to say the same promise with another word.             Emmanuel.

 

This is an old word. A Hebrew word. An ancient name. And like most Hebrew names in the Scriptures, this name is more than an ID badge. It is prophetic. It is promise. It is life. Revelation. Rescue. Comfort. 

 

This name is a whole world of God’s grace in a word.    Emmanuel.

 

God with us. God with us in the womb. God with us who crawls. Toddles. Wobbles. Walks. God with us in flesh and blood and bone and breath and hair. God who ate and drank, slept and awoke, laughed and wept. Who hungered, thirsted, and bled. As one of us. For all of us. 

 

God with us yet without sin. And yet at the same time, God with us, bearing all our sin.

 

So he is God with us in our despair, doubts, and darkness. God with us in affliction, anxiety, and addiction. God with us in our fears, failures, and faithlessness. God with us in our terrors, trespasses, and trials. God with us in our sorrows, shame, and sin. God with us in our grief, guilt, and gut-wrenching pains. 

 

Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel”

Son.    Emmanuel.   Jesus.

 

When the Word made flesh made his dwelling among us, the Word of God receives a name. A whole world in a word. All of God’s promises packed into one single, saving name: Jesus.

 

This name is an Old Testament sacred play on words. A holy pun with a promise. You’ll recognize this name by its Hebrew translation. Yehoshua. Joshua. YHWH is salvation. YHWH saves. YHWH is savior. 

 

The first Joshua led Israel into the promised land. Jesus, the greater Joshua will lead all people through his cross, and tomb into a new creation. The first Joshua conquered Jericho with trumpets. Jesus, the Greater Joshua conquers death and hell and the ancient serpent with his own blood and the tree of the cross. The first Joshua was told by God: Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Jesus, the Greater Joshua is the fulfillment of this promise. He is the Son of God. The Son of Mary. He is Emmanuel, God with us. He is the Lord your God who is with you wherever you go.

 

you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.

 

Jesus lives up to and dies into his name: YHWH is salvation. This Son and Emmanuel is God in the flesh who saves by giving his flesh for the life of the world. On the cross, but also in the cup. In the bread. On the altar. On your lips and tongue. YHWH is salvation in his body and blood for you.

 

This Son. Emmanuel. Jesus. Gives his blood for you. Poured out on the cross. Poured onto our sin-parched lips. Shed. Spilled. Given for you for the forgiveness of your sins. Here in the cup. In the blood of Jesus. YHWH is salvation.

 

Jesus, who is flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone who ached and wept and suffered. He is with you in your sorrows, suffering, aches, pains, even death and the grave. He experienced it all. Went through it all to do what his name says. YHWH is salvation. For you. 

 

When we endure restless nights like Joseph did. Or wrestle with our sin, sorrows, and when death opens it ugly, yawning mouth to swallow us up, it seems that fear, death, and sadness get the last word. But it is for us as it was for Joseph, and in this chapter of Matthew.

 

God’s holy word. God’s holy promise. God’s holy name – Jesus. He the last word. 

 

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

Sermon for Advent 3: "Are You the One?"

 + 3^rd Sunday in Advent – December 14^th, 2025 +

Series A: Isaiah 35:1-10; James 5:7-11; Matthew 11:2-15

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

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

“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” 

John the Baptist has been faithful since before he was born. John leapt in his mother Elizabeth’s womb in greeting when Jesus visited inside Mary before He was born. He proclaimed a baptism of repentance while dressed in camel’s hair and eating locusts. He stood against Herod marrying his brother’s wife. And here he sits in prison.

Such faithfulness. And yet things haven’t worked out the way John imagined they would. John wonders. Asks a question in the dark and doubts and despair. 

“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” 

John’s question is a familiar one to us. How long, O Lord? Why? How could this have happened? We have confessed your name, O Lord. We have spoken your word of Gospel to those we love. We have called upon you, O Lord, in time of our need. In our darkness. Despair. Doubts. And yet nothing turns out the way we planned. 

“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” 

What happens when things don’t go the way we want? When that prayer didn’t receive the answer we wanted? When that friend betrayed us? When our loved one dies? In those moments, in our own prisons of despair and doubt and death. We ask the question John asked in his prison.

“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (Matthew 11:3) 

And there in the dark in the dungeon. Jesus answers John. And in doing so, answers us as well. Jesus answers John by doing exactly what He promised. Every promise finds its yes in Jesus’ death and resurrection. For John and for you. 

And because Jesus died and rose for you, all those questions and concerns, all our griefs and sorrows, all our darkness, despair, and even death itself find their end at the cross.

Those things that didn’t go according to our plan? Remember that God’s plan was the cross Christ died on for you. Prayers that didn’t get the answer we wanted? Jesus prayed for the cup to pass from Him, nevertheless, not my will, but yours be done. And it was Father’s will was for us to save us from sin in Jesus. That friend who betrayed us? By Jesus’ betrayal, the price for sin was paid forever on our behalf. Our loved ones who have died? Jesus’ death has destroyed death for you. 

As dark as John’s time in prison was, Good Friday was even darker. Deeper. And as Easter morning dawned, sin is forgiven, paid in blood. Death is conquered. Jesus rose as the firstborn from the dead for John and for you.

So when those moments of doubt come, and they do for us all. Look not to yourself, but to where John, even in the dark of prison points you. To Jesus. To God’s promises answered with a resounding “yes” at His cross. Whenever doubt or despair God’s love for you, look no further than his manger and cross for you. 

“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (Matthew 11:3) 

Our Lord Jesus says to you, Yes. I AM. Today. Tomorrow. Always. Forevermore.

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

 

Sermon for Advent 2: "The Way of the Lord"

 + 2^nd Sunday in Advent – December 7^th, 2025 +

Series A: Isaiah 11:1-10; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

In the old tales when a hero goes on a quest there’s often a bridge to cross. A chasm to cross over. And there in the way – guarding the only way across – stands a messenger. You shall not pass. Unless of course, you answer three questions or solve the riddles. 

 

And like the old rhyme goes, there is no other way but forward. You must meet this strange messenger on your journey. You can’t go around him. Can’t go under him. Can’t go over him. You must go through him.

 

This is the way of Advent. The way of John the Baptist. The way of the one who prepares the way of the Lord Jesus.

 

John stands in the wilderness in our advent journey and we cannot get to Jesus without going through John. John is the crossing guard at the bridge. The herald on the journey. The messenger at the crossroads. The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

 

Prepare the way of the Lord. Make his paths straight.

 

John stands in the wilderness in our advent pilgrimage not with riddles to solve or questions to answer, but with a message to proclaim. Holy words to sink into our ears, minds, and hearts.

 

Repent. For the Kingdom of God is at hand.

 

Truth be told, John the Baptist makes us uncomfortable. Uneasy. His camel’s hair clothing stands out like Scrooge at a Christmas party. His diet isn’t milk and cookies but locust and wild honey. He’s like that crazy uncle we all know and love. You’re never quite sure what he’s going to say when he opens his mouth. He’s untamed. Unkempt. Uncivilized. 

 

But it’s more than John’s strange diet and prophetic fashion sense that makes us squirm in our Christmas jammies. John is not safe. He’s wild and untamed, serving not himself, but Jesus the Lord whose way he prepares. The true untamed and wild Lion of Judah.

 

In a season of festivities John preaches repentance and forgiveness of sins. While we’re enjoying all of the cards, carols, and phone calls John calls out to the Pharisees, “Hey…You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” How’s that for a Christmas greeting card!

 

In a season where the world is decking the halls, having a merry little Christmas (a little too early), and trimming the trees, John preaches repentance. Self-denial. Death and resurrection. 

 

That is what God sends John ahead of his Son to do. To work repentance through the word. Repentance is a changing of the mind – not by you, but by the Spirit giving you a new mind. Repentance is a turning from darkness to life – but it’s not you who turns you; it’s the Spirit working through God’s word. Repentance, most of all, though is death.

 

John calls us to the Jordan River this advent journey. And John comes out swinging like Paul Bunyan, laying his axe to every idol that has taken root in our hearts and minds. John is God’s holy bulldozer sent into demo all of the altars we’ve built, all the places where we worship and fear and love and trust every god but the true one.

 

Yes, John is sent by God to deliver the death blow. The final knockout punch to our old Adam. This is John’s way. This is the way of repentance. 

 

To daily die to our old sinful self.

To die to our false desires that enslave us.

To die to our idols that over promise and underdeliver.

To die to viper’s serpentine voices that hiss out nothing but lies.

To die to our selfish, self-serving, self-righteous ways.

 

You can’t go around, or under, or over John’s message. The death of repentance. You must go through John. Through repentance. Through the grave.

 

And there in the darkness. In your death. In the dust and ashes. John holds out his finger. And lifts up his voice once again. He leads you out from under the crushing weight of your sin to the cross. To Christ whose way he prepares.

 

The Kingdom of God is at hand. Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. 

 

John calls us to a new exodus. Out of slavery and into life and freedom in Christ. Out of the wilderness and into the new creation in Jesus. Out of darkness and into light. Out of the grave and into the resurrection that comes in Jesus’ dying and rising.

 

With one hand John points out your sin. But with the other, he points you to your Savior. To Jesus who comes to baptize. Cleanse. Gather. Rescue. Redeem. And raise you from the dead.

 

John declares that Jesus is the coming one who is mightier than he. And yet he who is mighty comes with great mercy for you. He who is holy, comes in utter humility to declare you holy in him. He who comes is full of compassion, grace, and steadfast love.

 

John proclaims that Jesus is the one whose sandals he is not worthy to stoop down and untie. And yet, Jesus is the one who comes to stoop down. The Son of God descends. Humbles himself. Dwells under the Law. He stoops low to wash feet. To heal. To go down to the lowest place of all, the grave. And to do it all for you. 

 

Jesus is the one who comes with the winnowing fork in his hand, but it comes in the shape of Roman nails. Cold and cruel and pounded into his flesh for you. God lets the axe fall on his Son the root of Jesse. On the tree of the cross God’s righteous branch is cut down. Broken. Bleeding. Breathing out his last to save John, the Pharisees, sinners, you and me.

 

Yes, John’s preaching of repentance means the death of us. But his preaching of the Kingdom that comes to you in Jesus, in his water, word, body and blood. This is your resurrection from the dead. 

 

This is your advent journey. No riddles. No questions. All you need is what John has: God’s word that kills and makes alive. Indeed, come to Christ’s table, for today the Kingdom of God is at hand. 

 

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

 

Thanksgiving Day Sermon: "The Ritual of the Redeemed"

 + Thanksgiving Day - November 27th, 2025 + 

Deuteronomy 8:1-10; Philippians 4:6-20; Luke 17:11-19

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Holidays are full of rituals. Thanksgiving is no different. Growing up in our family, the big Schuldheisz family thanksgiving day was full of ritual. The mad hustle and bustle to get to church. The greeting of family members outside the church. Greeting family members inside the church. Greeting family members in the pews. When your dad is the youngest of seven, there’s a lot of greeting to do. 

 

Eventually, we’d move to someone’s house - or church fellowship hall when we outgrew the house. Snacks appeared on the table. Drinks filled glasses. Soon enough, the parents and older cousins' table and kids’ table overflowed with food. We prayed. Laughed. Ate. Those who didn’t nap went outside to burn some calories. Came back inside for desert and more food and more stories and laughter. 

 

Your family, no doubt, has a few traditions of your own, passed down from generation to generation. Thanksgiving is a day of ritual. That’s what tradition is, in part, a familiar pattern. A lively dance that everyone knows. A rhythm. A heartbeat. Pumping with life.

 

When we turn to God’s Word we find the same rhythm and pattern. Wherever we receive God’s rescue and redemption, we find the ritual of rejoicing. We call it thanksgiving. 

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

There’s a ritual, a pattern: God gives, bestows, blesses. Not a little. Not in moderation. Not in halves, quarters, or eights. But in whole. In fullness. In abundance. Generosity without limit. Grace overflowing. Free. Full. And more than we desire or deserve. 

 

God gives and then we receive. We rejoice. We give thanks. 

Our Lord speaks and we listen. His Word bestows what it says. Faith that is born from what is heard acknowledges the gifts received with eager thankfulness and praise.

Turn to any part of Scripture and you’ll find this ritual of redemption on full display. Wherever you find God’s people, you’ll find them giving thanks to God for his abundant mercy, gratuitous grace, and steadfast love and faithfulness.

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

After God rescued Noah and his family in the ark, through the water. Through the deluge and downpour. Noah gave thanks. An altar. Sacrifice. Thanksgiving. Ritual. 

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

After God rescued Israel out of slavery in Egypt, Moses and Miriam and Israel gave thanks by the shores of the Red Sea. They sang. Prayed. Praised. Gave thanks. 

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

After God placed the ark of his presence in the tent of meeting for David. And after David was saved time and time again from his own sin and countless enemies. He sang. Prayed. Wrote psalms. Gave thanks to God. 

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

After God blessed barren Hannah with a son, she too joined the ritual of the redeemed and rescued. She sang. Her heart exalted in the Lord. She rejoiced in YHWH’s salvation.

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

After God sent Paul as his chosen apostle criss-crossing the Mediterranean proclaiming Christ crucified, Paul - in a beautiful ritual - writes thanksgiving after thanksgiving in his epistles. He hands down the ritual. but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

After God incarnate healed the 10 lepers, one of them - the unlikely Samaritan - understood the ritual. He received restoration from the Redeemer. He returned. Praised God. Fell at Jesus’ feet. And gave thanks. Thanksgiving is the ritual of the redeemed. 

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

Wherever you find God’s people, you’ll find them giving thanks to God for his abundant mercy, gratuitous grace, and steadfast love and faithfulness.

 

And what about us? How do we respond? Truth be told, giving thanks to God - or anyone else for that matter - doesn’t come naturally to sinners like you and me. We feign gratitude but deep down we think we’re deserving. Entitled. That we’ve earned it. Owed it. Or that we’ve done it all by the callouses of our hands and our worn out bootstraps and our bloody knuckles and our labors. 

 

Thanksgiving calls us outside of us and away from ourselves. And this is no small thing. This means our death. But also our life. For in this hard truth, in this bitter pill to swallow, there is good news that is sweeter than the sweetest honey-ham and richer than the most brown-sugar, marshmallow coated sweet-potatoes. The gifts - all of them in body and soul - come from the good and gracious giver himself. The God who redeems, rescues, declares righteous, and restores you.

 

Everyone who has ever received anything from God in the Scriptures - and that’s everyone - from Noah to Israel, Hannah to David, the Samaritan leper to Paul - everyone receives everything we have by grace in Jesus. Free. Abundant. Without measure. God holds nothing back, not even his own Son. Who also holds nothing back. Not even his own flesh and blood or his back and hands and feet. He gives his all for you on the cross. 

 

Jesus becomes the sacrifice. The lamb slain. The blood spilled. Jesus gives. Bestows. Blesses. Not in part, half, or quarter. But in full. Paid by his blood. Redeemed. Rescued. Declared righteous. And what’s there left to do? Nothing but receive the gifts. Rejoice. And join the ritual of the redeemed.

 

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

 

A blessed Thanksgiving to each of you…

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

Sermon for Advent 1: "Christ is Coming"

 + 1^st Sunday in Advent – November 30^th, 2025 +

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

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Advent is a peculiar yet beautiful season of the church year. 

 

Peculiar because the world around us is telling us it’s cozy sweater weather and flooding your email, text messages, TVs and tablets with commercials and sales and deals and it’s enough to make you sympathetic with the Grinch for moment. 

 

But then Advent comes along. Out of place in our world. Out of touch. We get Isaiah and the prophets. John the Baptist – the ugly sweater champion of the world. Paul and Jesus all proclaiming the same message. “It shall come to pass.” The Judge is coming. The Day of the Lord is near. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. The Son of Man is coming soon. Hardly sounds like the Holly Jollies or marshmallows and hot cocoa we were expecting. 

 

And yet Advent comes as an airhorn in your slumber. Arise! Awake! Advent comes as a splash of cold water for someone in a stupor, drunk on the distractions of the world. Get up! Watch! Prepare. Advent comes like a thief in the night, Jesus says. 

 

The beauty of Advent is found in its peculiarity. For Advent is a foghorn in the storm and tempest. Advent is a lighthouse in the bleak midwinter. Advent is the lantern approaching closer and closer on the horizon. The dawn about to break. The light piercing the darkness. The newsboy standing on the corner shouting out: “extra, extra! Read all about it! Christ is coming! Christ is near. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Soon!”

 

And so Advent is a blessed interruption from our idolatry. A sacred summons to holiness and peace in Jesus word and promises. A slowing down. Roots digging deep into Christ the vine who sprouts forth from the stump of Jesse. In Advent our Lord invites us to pause. Breath. Be awake. Watch. Wait. Slow down. Sit. Listen. 

 

Hear the word of the Lord. He comes to rescue. Deliver. Save. And yes…

 

He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide disputes for many peoples;
and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.

 

That’s no ordinary judgment. Isaiah announces a war to end all wars. A black flag hoisted against the powers of hell and death and darkness. The Son of Man is coming and he will give no quarter to the ancient serpent. No safe harbor for hell and death. Jesus comes to hoist the Jolly Roger over the bones of Adam and our old sinful flesh as well. 

 

And Jesus fights this battle. Makes his judgment in the most peculiar yet beautiful way. Something unimaginable to us. Impossible for us. Yet exactly what we need. Jesus comes as the Judge and takes upon himself your judgment. Christ the Judge lets the gavel fall on three Roman spikes, pounded into his flesh to set you free. Jesus, the Judge of the living and the dead, steps off his bench and is hoisted up onto the cross. For you. The innocent for the guilty. His life for yours. Your sin became his. Your grave and mine became his. Your judgment and mine…all his. All for you. 

 

And this is the Judge that we await for on the Last Day. This is the coming Son of Man. The Son of Mary. Son of David. The Son of God. Our crucified and risen King. Your redeemer. Rescuer. 

 

 

And in a way, the Last Day has already come. Your judgment has already happened. On the cross.

And in Baptism where he declared you washed. Cleansed. Holy. His own dear child. You belong to him. And… “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Romans 8:1

 

For you who are in Christ, this day of reckoning is a day of redemption. This day of judgment is a day of joy. This day of consummation is a day of consolation. 

 

This is what makes Advent so peculiar and yet so beautiful. Advent teaches us exactly how to live in the last days. To wait. Watch. Listen. 

 

O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.

 

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.  The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.  Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

 

Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

 

Although Jesus will come on a day we do not expect. At his coming, we know exactly what to expect. For he promises.

 

You are dressed in Jesus. You are clothed in the King’s righteousness. You are Advent people. Children of the day. You are bought and paid for by the precious blood of Jesus.

 

So, do not fear living in these last days. Because of what Jesus did on Good Friday and Easter Sunday there’s nothing to fear on the Last Day.

 

After all, you know how the story ends. It ends with the trumpets blaring. Angels and saints shouting for joy. The bells of the new creation pealing. And the Lamb returning. Raising you from the dead. Wiping away all tears. All pain. All sorrow. 

 

And you’ll find out that the Judge is the Lamb all along. Slain for you. sitting on the throne for you. speaking his promises to you: 

 

Behold, I am coming soon. 

 

 

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