I attended the funeral of a good friend today, a brother in Christ and in the Holy Office. The Reverend Ray Mueller was in his late 70s, and he served both actively and faithfully as a pastor for considerably longer than I've been alive. He was retired, ostensibly, two or three times over, but he sure didn't let the grass grow under his feet. He attended winkels more regularly than a lot of brothers I know who are still serving parishes; he came to contribute and to participate in discussions, and I always appreciated the wisdom and insight that shared with us younger men. He may have slowed down somewhat in the latter part of his life, but he had decades of experience to draw upon, and he remained thoughtful and conscientious and on his toes.
One of the things I always appreciated about Ray was the fact that, for all his seniority, he never failed to listen carefully to what his younger colleagues had to say; he wasn't afraid to rethink his position and to learn new things from others. He was passionate, surely; confident of his faith in the Word of God; solid as the day is long, and maybe even a little stubborn, as old German Lutherans tend to be. But he wasn't hard-headed or obstinate, and he was never rude that I ever heard or witnessed. He was good-natured and good-humored in all his dealings.
Ray wasn't shy about participating in the political life of the Church on earth. Yet, anyone who might suggest that he was motivated by political ambition or any such desire for power and position, clearly didn't know the Reverend Ray Mueller. I've never known anyone more impassioned by the Gospel and driven by faithfulness to the Word of the Lord. What Ray cared about was Jesus, and confessing Jesus in all the world. It was as simple as that. He was zealous, enthusiastic and energetic for missions and outreach, and it wasn't just rhetoric with him; nor was it a gimmick, but honest-to-goodness, roll-up-your-sleeves preaching and teaching, and the hard work of bringing the Word to those who weren't going to hear it or find it on their own. Ray's contributions to the Church's earthly polity and governance were considerable and blessed, but I am most grateful for the good example he gave of genuinely confessional evangelicalism.
I'm quite convinced that it was because Ray knew and loved the Gospel of his Lord Jesus Christ, that he was consistently pleasant and jovial. He had an endearing chuckle that often preceded his answers to questions or his comments in discussions. He took things quite seriously, but he wasn't morbid or down in the mouth about the good word he was given to confess. He lived in the joy and freedom of the Gospel, and it simply exuded from him all the time; he wore it on his sleeve, and in the warmth of his smile you saw a glimmer of his peace and happiness in Christ. I count it among the blessings in my life that, for the past many years, I have frequently been privileged to share the pleasure of Ray's company. That's been a treat, and I will really miss those opportunities, as I will miss my friend and colleague, Ray.
I'm pleased to say that Ray's surviving son, the Reverend David Mueller, follows in his father's footsteps. Not simply in the Office of the Ministry, but in his commitment to the Word of God, his deep love for the Gospel, his evangelical spirit, and his ready laugh. I'm glad to count Dave among my friends and colleagues, and I pray that he and I and many others will be granted to serve our generation and those that follow us as faithfully as his father did. I felt for Dave at the funeral; for how could my heart not go out to my friend, now bereft of his Dad in this earthly life. But I was touched by the unaffected honesty of his emotions. He wears his heart on his sleeve, much like Ray did. So I was able to share with him the bittersweet joy of a Christian funeral, the mourning that is not without hope but weeps for a time while remaining in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection. Thanks be to God, who has given us the Victory in our Lord Jesus Christ.
31 December 2007
25 December 2007
Kinda Happy, Kinda Sad
Every year it's more or less the same. I feel like such a bi-polar bear on Christmas Day. That's probably an offensive thing to say, for those who really are "bi-polar" (which I don't claim to know anything about), but I have no other way to describe the mixed feelings I always seem to have on the 25th of December.
I love the Feast that is the ChristMass. I revel in the celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord, the preaching and administration of the Word-made-Flesh. I could sing the hymns of the ChristMass all day and night, especially the Latin chants and the Lutheran chorales. Even the simpler carols, those that actually sing of Christ, bring joy and gladness to my heart. As much as I love Advent Tide, I honestly and thoroughly delight in the arrival of this high and holy day.
For all of that, there is perhaps no other day of the year when I feel so odd and out of sorts with the rest of the world around me. Not only the secular world with its "happy profaniday" (one can hardly call what the pagan populace observes a "holiday" in any true or proper sense), but sometimes even the celebrations of beloved fellow Christians can leave me feeling like an utter stranger in a strange land.
It's not that I'm angry or upset with anyone; there's been no offense either given or taken. Besides, 'tis the season of charity and forbearance, even where there may at times be some offense. As our dear Lord condescends to love us, in spite of all our many sins and enmity against Him, how shall I not cover my neighbors trespasses against me with love and forgiveness, for Jesus' sake?
No, it isn't anger that besets me on this day, but a profound sadness that descends upon me. In part, I suppose, I am simply spent from all the planning, preparations, and performance of the ChristMass rites and ceremonies. There is a sense of that on Easter Sunday, too, yet not the same burden of melancholy. There are probably lots of reasons for the difference. For one thing, Easter has not been so hijacked by the commercial world around us. More to the point, I can't imagine a Christian who wouldn't make every effort to be in church on Easter Sunday. It is not so with Christmas Day. There is a stereotype of "Christmas and Easter Christians," but, so far as I can tell, it really isn't such a common thing for Christians to be in church on Christmas Day. Two years ago, when Christmas Day occurred on a Sunday, there were any number of churches in our community that actually cancelled their regular services that morning! Prior to my coming to Emmaus, even this pious and faithful congregation did not have a Christmas Day Service; and I spoke with a colleague today whose congregation, similarly, has never yet had a service on this occasion. The rationale has been that "Christmas" is a time for family gatherings.
I'm all in favor of families. I'm something of a family man, myself. I also understand that, for some Christians at least — because of the structures and strictures of society, and due to the fact that many of their relatives may not be Christians — this day may end up being one of the rare opportunities they have to gather with their extended families. In the freedom of the Gospel, and no less in Christian love for the neighbor, I do not begrudge anyone the prerogative to spend the day traveling and visiting. Such personal prerogatives do not really pertain, however, to the Church collectively, nor to the divinely called and ordained servants of the Word. The fact that Christians are individually free to come and go, as they may be so inclined or need to do, surely does not mean that every other member of the Church should be deprived of the opportunity to hear the Gospel and receive the Body and Blood of Christ in celebration of His Nativity. Accordingly, it is not only my own desire, but my obligation as a pastor, to mark this day with the celebration of the Divine Service (and I count that a most blessed privilege).
Actually, the whole world ought to give thanks for pastors and congregations who celebrate the Divine Service on the 25th of December, for it is precisely that (and only that) which makes this day the ChristMass at all. While many Christians routinely go about urging that we "keep Christ in Christmas," there seems to be a rampant nonchalance about keeping the Mass in the ChristMass. As the Word becomes flesh and is born for us today in the Divine Service of the Gospel, which is the preaching of Christ and His Sacrament, there really is no way to "keep Christ," nor the ChristMass, without the Mass.
What makes me so sad, I guess, is that this day really is not so defined by the ChristMass, not for the vast majority of people. Again, I do not begrudge Christians the freedom to make other plans for themselves and their families, as their own vocations and stations in life may suggest, and as the needs of their neighbors may require of them. I do wish there didn't seem to be such a "take it or leave it" attitude about the Divine Service, as though it were incidental to the day. Assuredly, there are many Christians who do recognize the centrality of the Sacrament and its definitive significance to this day; who hunger and thirst for the Body and Blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, born of the Virgin Mary to be sacrificed for the sins of the world. It is all the more sure and certain that the same Christ Jesus has given Himself, not only for the pious and faithful, but also for those who let this day of His birth come and go without a second thought. Thus, I desire to be more charitable and forgiving, merciful and considerate of my neighbor; for I know that I am too impatient and short-tempered with others. Nevertheless, it saddens me that the heart and center of the day — the Holy Communion — is generally not recognized.
Along with this sadness, there is also a frustration that derives from a pressure to compete with the world on its own terms. By the time I have officiated and presided over the several Services of the ChristMass, I have very little left for my own family. On Easter Sunday, this is readily understood and, barring any funerals or the like, there is no expectation that I must proceed to whoop it up and party hardy with my family. Christmas is trickier. My wife and children are patient and long-suffering, but with everyone else in the world rejoicing over gifts and parties and such, it is hard to avoid the feeling that I am dropping the ball and letting them down when I have no energy or enthusiasm for such festivities.
It's not only today, but the whole "season" leading up to this day, that weighs upon me in this fashion. For me it has been Advent Tide, and for the past month I have given myself as completely as I am able to the Word of God and prayer: to the observances of Advent, and to preparations for the Twelve Days of the ChristMass. Consequently, I've not sent out any cards; I only helped to finish up our annual family letter today (despite the fact that LaRena had mostly finished it a month ago). I've had neither time nor other means to do any shopping, and I'm sorry to say that my covetous flesh has a difficult time with the shopping that everyone else appears to be doing. It is a humbling blow to my pride, too, that others are so generous with us, while we are so poorly able to reciprocate in any like manner. I'm very grateful for the gifts that we receive, especially because they enable us to do some things for our children that we would not otherwise be able to do, but I would equally desire to be in a position to give good gifts to our family and friends.
What I do have to give — the Ministry of the Gospel — is warmly received and deeply appreciated by the people of Emmaus, and that should be sufficient for me. My sense of personal satisfaction and fulfillment is hardly the point, in any case, and certainly not the most important thing. It is unrealistic, and contrary to the theology of the Cross, to expect the world ever to understand or honor my vocation as a pastor. Yet, even knowing all that, I still leave the church on Christmas Day overwhelmed by sadness that the world pays no attention to the Gospel I administer.
What do I want for Christmas? Chiefly, I want Jesus — who has in fact given Himself to me in the Gospel that was beautifully preached to me this morning, and who fed me with His Body and Blood in the ChristMass at midnight and again today. Along with that, I want everyone else to hear and receive the same Gospel-Word and Sacrament, and thus to have Jesus their Savior. Yes, that is what I want. That would make me happy. But how silly of me to suppose that I want it more than the Lord Himself desires it! What is my sadness to compare with the sorrow of Him who came to His own to save them, and His own did not receive Him? Yet, as many as do receive Him in faith, He gives them the new birth of the sons of God in Christ. Such faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ. Therefore, irrespective of the world's apathy or ire, and despite my own frailty and weakness, there is nothing better for me to do than preach and administer the Gospel of the Word-made-Flesh, as I have been called and sent to do. In that Gospel alone is the hope of the nations and the only real cure for my melancholy blues.
I love the Feast that is the ChristMass. I revel in the celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord, the preaching and administration of the Word-made-Flesh. I could sing the hymns of the ChristMass all day and night, especially the Latin chants and the Lutheran chorales. Even the simpler carols, those that actually sing of Christ, bring joy and gladness to my heart. As much as I love Advent Tide, I honestly and thoroughly delight in the arrival of this high and holy day.
For all of that, there is perhaps no other day of the year when I feel so odd and out of sorts with the rest of the world around me. Not only the secular world with its "happy profaniday" (one can hardly call what the pagan populace observes a "holiday" in any true or proper sense), but sometimes even the celebrations of beloved fellow Christians can leave me feeling like an utter stranger in a strange land.
It's not that I'm angry or upset with anyone; there's been no offense either given or taken. Besides, 'tis the season of charity and forbearance, even where there may at times be some offense. As our dear Lord condescends to love us, in spite of all our many sins and enmity against Him, how shall I not cover my neighbors trespasses against me with love and forgiveness, for Jesus' sake?
No, it isn't anger that besets me on this day, but a profound sadness that descends upon me. In part, I suppose, I am simply spent from all the planning, preparations, and performance of the ChristMass rites and ceremonies. There is a sense of that on Easter Sunday, too, yet not the same burden of melancholy. There are probably lots of reasons for the difference. For one thing, Easter has not been so hijacked by the commercial world around us. More to the point, I can't imagine a Christian who wouldn't make every effort to be in church on Easter Sunday. It is not so with Christmas Day. There is a stereotype of "Christmas and Easter Christians," but, so far as I can tell, it really isn't such a common thing for Christians to be in church on Christmas Day. Two years ago, when Christmas Day occurred on a Sunday, there were any number of churches in our community that actually cancelled their regular services that morning! Prior to my coming to Emmaus, even this pious and faithful congregation did not have a Christmas Day Service; and I spoke with a colleague today whose congregation, similarly, has never yet had a service on this occasion. The rationale has been that "Christmas" is a time for family gatherings.
I'm all in favor of families. I'm something of a family man, myself. I also understand that, for some Christians at least — because of the structures and strictures of society, and due to the fact that many of their relatives may not be Christians — this day may end up being one of the rare opportunities they have to gather with their extended families. In the freedom of the Gospel, and no less in Christian love for the neighbor, I do not begrudge anyone the prerogative to spend the day traveling and visiting. Such personal prerogatives do not really pertain, however, to the Church collectively, nor to the divinely called and ordained servants of the Word. The fact that Christians are individually free to come and go, as they may be so inclined or need to do, surely does not mean that every other member of the Church should be deprived of the opportunity to hear the Gospel and receive the Body and Blood of Christ in celebration of His Nativity. Accordingly, it is not only my own desire, but my obligation as a pastor, to mark this day with the celebration of the Divine Service (and I count that a most blessed privilege).
Actually, the whole world ought to give thanks for pastors and congregations who celebrate the Divine Service on the 25th of December, for it is precisely that (and only that) which makes this day the ChristMass at all. While many Christians routinely go about urging that we "keep Christ in Christmas," there seems to be a rampant nonchalance about keeping the Mass in the ChristMass. As the Word becomes flesh and is born for us today in the Divine Service of the Gospel, which is the preaching of Christ and His Sacrament, there really is no way to "keep Christ," nor the ChristMass, without the Mass.
What makes me so sad, I guess, is that this day really is not so defined by the ChristMass, not for the vast majority of people. Again, I do not begrudge Christians the freedom to make other plans for themselves and their families, as their own vocations and stations in life may suggest, and as the needs of their neighbors may require of them. I do wish there didn't seem to be such a "take it or leave it" attitude about the Divine Service, as though it were incidental to the day. Assuredly, there are many Christians who do recognize the centrality of the Sacrament and its definitive significance to this day; who hunger and thirst for the Body and Blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, born of the Virgin Mary to be sacrificed for the sins of the world. It is all the more sure and certain that the same Christ Jesus has given Himself, not only for the pious and faithful, but also for those who let this day of His birth come and go without a second thought. Thus, I desire to be more charitable and forgiving, merciful and considerate of my neighbor; for I know that I am too impatient and short-tempered with others. Nevertheless, it saddens me that the heart and center of the day — the Holy Communion — is generally not recognized.
Along with this sadness, there is also a frustration that derives from a pressure to compete with the world on its own terms. By the time I have officiated and presided over the several Services of the ChristMass, I have very little left for my own family. On Easter Sunday, this is readily understood and, barring any funerals or the like, there is no expectation that I must proceed to whoop it up and party hardy with my family. Christmas is trickier. My wife and children are patient and long-suffering, but with everyone else in the world rejoicing over gifts and parties and such, it is hard to avoid the feeling that I am dropping the ball and letting them down when I have no energy or enthusiasm for such festivities.
It's not only today, but the whole "season" leading up to this day, that weighs upon me in this fashion. For me it has been Advent Tide, and for the past month I have given myself as completely as I am able to the Word of God and prayer: to the observances of Advent, and to preparations for the Twelve Days of the ChristMass. Consequently, I've not sent out any cards; I only helped to finish up our annual family letter today (despite the fact that LaRena had mostly finished it a month ago). I've had neither time nor other means to do any shopping, and I'm sorry to say that my covetous flesh has a difficult time with the shopping that everyone else appears to be doing. It is a humbling blow to my pride, too, that others are so generous with us, while we are so poorly able to reciprocate in any like manner. I'm very grateful for the gifts that we receive, especially because they enable us to do some things for our children that we would not otherwise be able to do, but I would equally desire to be in a position to give good gifts to our family and friends.
What I do have to give — the Ministry of the Gospel — is warmly received and deeply appreciated by the people of Emmaus, and that should be sufficient for me. My sense of personal satisfaction and fulfillment is hardly the point, in any case, and certainly not the most important thing. It is unrealistic, and contrary to the theology of the Cross, to expect the world ever to understand or honor my vocation as a pastor. Yet, even knowing all that, I still leave the church on Christmas Day overwhelmed by sadness that the world pays no attention to the Gospel I administer.
What do I want for Christmas? Chiefly, I want Jesus — who has in fact given Himself to me in the Gospel that was beautifully preached to me this morning, and who fed me with His Body and Blood in the ChristMass at midnight and again today. Along with that, I want everyone else to hear and receive the same Gospel-Word and Sacrament, and thus to have Jesus their Savior. Yes, that is what I want. That would make me happy. But how silly of me to suppose that I want it more than the Lord Himself desires it! What is my sadness to compare with the sorrow of Him who came to His own to save them, and His own did not receive Him? Yet, as many as do receive Him in faith, He gives them the new birth of the sons of God in Christ. Such faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ. Therefore, irrespective of the world's apathy or ire, and despite my own frailty and weakness, there is nothing better for me to do than preach and administer the Gospel of the Word-made-Flesh, as I have been called and sent to do. In that Gospel alone is the hope of the nations and the only real cure for my melancholy blues.
23 December 2007
The Rhythm of Life
No, I'm not thinking of the late-80s Scorpions song, but of the Christian faith and life in daily prayer and the weekly Divine Service, the Sundays and Seasons of the Church Year, and the sanctoral cycle of feasts and commemorations. That's where I live, mostly, and I love it. I do it for the sake of the Gospel, for the sake of faith and piety, for the benefit of my congregation and anyone else who cares to hear the Word of God, to receive the gifts of Christ, and to pray, praise and give thanks. The Apostles deemed it most necessary that they devote themselves to the Word of God and prayer, and I can't imagine that I ought to become preoccupied with anything else than that. In this way, all things are sanctified to our use and received with thanksgiving.
The fundamental cornerstone of the Christian faith and life, and of the whole Christian Church on earth, is the celebration of the Lord's Supper in the Lord's House on each Lord's Day. Of course, there have always been those who find themselves unable to sanctify the Holy Day in this way, on account of infirmity or conflicting vocational obligations; for those folks, other ways and means are found to serve them with the gifts Christ freely gives. Otherwise, to be a Christian is to be in church at least every Sunday, to hear the Gospel and to receive the Body and Blood of Christ for the forgiveness of sins. It is as fundamental to the spiritual life as breathing and eating and drinking are to earthly life. Which is precisely why the devil, the world, and the sinful old Adam conspire together and work so hard to prevent the children of God from being gathered around His Table in His House.
Over the past several weeks, the devil has worked particularly hard here in the South Bend area to make going to church downright difficult. As I recall, Luther makes some reference to the way the devil messes with the weather in order to harass Christians, and that has surely been the case lately. This morning I kept thinking of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song," as we have been living in the land of ice and snow, without any midnight sun that I know of, but the harsh winds were blowing all day today! (I know that Robert Plant actually sings of the "hot springs" blowing, but it's always sounded more like "harsh winds" to me, and that's what we actually had today.) Two weeks ago it was a treacherous layer of ice on the roads and everything else. Last week it was a foot or more of snow that fell between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. And then the incredibly strong and bitterly cold winds today, which took down trees and power lines all over town and managed to make a mess of things everywhere. I'm somewhat amazed, impressed and pleased, that the attendance at Emmaus has actually been pretty good, in spite of the weather; though certainly not what it would have been otherwise. The people of Emmaus are pious and faithful and generally rather gumptuous, but the worse sort of winter weather can be hazardous for some of our older members, who end up missing out when the going gets tough. Of course, the Lord remains the real Weather Man, and He only allows the devil a limited degree of latitude to muck about. As He continues to provide food and clothing, shelter and protection for the body all year long, so does He nourish and sustain the spiritual body and life with His means of grace, both in season and out of season.
From the 17th of December through the Feast of the Epiphany on the 6th of January, Emmaus is gathered at least once a day: for responsive prayer on each of the last seven days of Advent (in addition to the Feast of St. Thomas on the 20th and the regular Sunday Divine Service), and for the Divine Service on each of the Twelve Days of Christmas and the Epihany of our Lord. I pray that the devil is not given the leeway to mess up the weather on all of those coming days!
Even with my faithful assistant to help me with the preaching during Christmas Tide, it is still a lot of work to prepare for and administer all of the Services. It is a rigorous undertaking, as is the similar rhythm of Holy Week and the first Octave of Easter Tide. But I relish it and revel in it, nonetheless. It saddens me, actually, that more Christian pastors and people do not experience the blessed peace and tranquility that derives from the daily hearing and receiving of the Gospel. If I could keep this pace all year long, I would gladly do it. As it is, there is something to be said for marking Christmas and Easter in such a uniquely emphatic way.
Christmas Eve will begin with Lessons & Carols (at Evening Prayer), and then the Midnight ChristMass to celebrate the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord. Christmas Day in the morning will be observed with the order of the Chorale Communion (LSB Divine Service Setting Five). The next several days are festivals commemorating St. Stephen the Martyr, St. John the Apostle & Evangelist, and the Holy Innocents. The Fifth Day of Christmas, and other non-festival days in the course of Christmas Tide, will be marked with a brief spoken Divine Service. The First Sunday after Christmas, New Year's Eve, and the Feast of the Name & Circumcision of Jesus (on the 1st of January) will each be celebrated with appropriate festivity. Finally, the Feast of the Epiphany of Our Lord will be marked with particular solemnity, as the grand culmination of our corporate celebration of the Incarnation of the Son of God. Of course, we continue to confess and celebrate His Incarnation and Manifestation throughout Epiphany Tide, and really throughout the entire Church Year, but the Feast of the Epiphany on the 6th of January provides a grand and glorious pivot from the festival Season of the ChristMass to the regular rhythm of the Church's faith and life in Christ. I'm already beginning to savor it now!
The fundamental cornerstone of the Christian faith and life, and of the whole Christian Church on earth, is the celebration of the Lord's Supper in the Lord's House on each Lord's Day. Of course, there have always been those who find themselves unable to sanctify the Holy Day in this way, on account of infirmity or conflicting vocational obligations; for those folks, other ways and means are found to serve them with the gifts Christ freely gives. Otherwise, to be a Christian is to be in church at least every Sunday, to hear the Gospel and to receive the Body and Blood of Christ for the forgiveness of sins. It is as fundamental to the spiritual life as breathing and eating and drinking are to earthly life. Which is precisely why the devil, the world, and the sinful old Adam conspire together and work so hard to prevent the children of God from being gathered around His Table in His House.
Over the past several weeks, the devil has worked particularly hard here in the South Bend area to make going to church downright difficult. As I recall, Luther makes some reference to the way the devil messes with the weather in order to harass Christians, and that has surely been the case lately. This morning I kept thinking of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song," as we have been living in the land of ice and snow, without any midnight sun that I know of, but the harsh winds were blowing all day today! (I know that Robert Plant actually sings of the "hot springs" blowing, but it's always sounded more like "harsh winds" to me, and that's what we actually had today.) Two weeks ago it was a treacherous layer of ice on the roads and everything else. Last week it was a foot or more of snow that fell between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. And then the incredibly strong and bitterly cold winds today, which took down trees and power lines all over town and managed to make a mess of things everywhere. I'm somewhat amazed, impressed and pleased, that the attendance at Emmaus has actually been pretty good, in spite of the weather; though certainly not what it would have been otherwise. The people of Emmaus are pious and faithful and generally rather gumptuous, but the worse sort of winter weather can be hazardous for some of our older members, who end up missing out when the going gets tough. Of course, the Lord remains the real Weather Man, and He only allows the devil a limited degree of latitude to muck about. As He continues to provide food and clothing, shelter and protection for the body all year long, so does He nourish and sustain the spiritual body and life with His means of grace, both in season and out of season.
From the 17th of December through the Feast of the Epiphany on the 6th of January, Emmaus is gathered at least once a day: for responsive prayer on each of the last seven days of Advent (in addition to the Feast of St. Thomas on the 20th and the regular Sunday Divine Service), and for the Divine Service on each of the Twelve Days of Christmas and the Epihany of our Lord. I pray that the devil is not given the leeway to mess up the weather on all of those coming days!
Even with my faithful assistant to help me with the preaching during Christmas Tide, it is still a lot of work to prepare for and administer all of the Services. It is a rigorous undertaking, as is the similar rhythm of Holy Week and the first Octave of Easter Tide. But I relish it and revel in it, nonetheless. It saddens me, actually, that more Christian pastors and people do not experience the blessed peace and tranquility that derives from the daily hearing and receiving of the Gospel. If I could keep this pace all year long, I would gladly do it. As it is, there is something to be said for marking Christmas and Easter in such a uniquely emphatic way.
Christmas Eve will begin with Lessons & Carols (at Evening Prayer), and then the Midnight ChristMass to celebrate the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord. Christmas Day in the morning will be observed with the order of the Chorale Communion (LSB Divine Service Setting Five). The next several days are festivals commemorating St. Stephen the Martyr, St. John the Apostle & Evangelist, and the Holy Innocents. The Fifth Day of Christmas, and other non-festival days in the course of Christmas Tide, will be marked with a brief spoken Divine Service. The First Sunday after Christmas, New Year's Eve, and the Feast of the Name & Circumcision of Jesus (on the 1st of January) will each be celebrated with appropriate festivity. Finally, the Feast of the Epiphany of Our Lord will be marked with particular solemnity, as the grand culmination of our corporate celebration of the Incarnation of the Son of God. Of course, we continue to confess and celebrate His Incarnation and Manifestation throughout Epiphany Tide, and really throughout the entire Church Year, but the Feast of the Epiphany on the 6th of January provides a grand and glorious pivot from the festival Season of the ChristMass to the regular rhythm of the Church's faith and life in Christ. I'm already beginning to savor it now!
22 December 2007
Do Not Be Afraid to Do What You Are Given
The Word of the Lord is spoken to you, as it was spoken to St. Joseph. Not now by an angel in a dream, but by a messenger of the Lord in His Church. Indeed, His prophetic Word has been fulfilled and made more sure with the coming of Christ Jesus in the flesh. So this Word is now proclaimed to you as the Gospel, unto the obedience of faith.
It is a wondrous Word that is here preached to you, full of the gracious and wonderful works of God. He has acted on your behalf, and He is still taking every initiative and acting to save you, to give you all good things and every perfect gift. The Lord Himself is your Savior, and He has become your Salvation. He has been conceived and born of the Blessed Virgin Mary, becoming flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood, so that He who is begotten of the Father from eternity is also (now and ever) true Man: like you.
He is the promised Son of David, who shall be seated on His throne and reign forever and ever. But neither David himself, nor any of his royal sons, nor humble Joseph either, brings about this birth and crowning glory. The Lord Jesus is conceived and born of David’s daughter, the Virgin, apart from any man. The House of David neither takes from God, nor gives to Him, but hears His Word and receives His gift, His Son.
With Ahaz, the Word and the gift are despised and rejected, but they could not be thwarted. With Joseph, they are heard and received in faith, in repentance and righteous obedience. St. Joseph is no king, nor is he the natural father of the Christ. But the Lord speaks to Joseph, and that righteous man believes and obeys. There is no hesitation, no talking back or argument. Each time he hears the Word of the Lord, he takes it to heart and immediately acts upon it.
It is in the righteousness of faith that he does so. Even before the Lord has revealed to him that his bride has not been unfaithful and adulterous, but shall bear a Son by the Holy Spirit, Joseph has already determined to deal with her in mercy. His righteousness is found, not only in his respect for the Law, for the Sixth Commandment and the sanctity of the marriage bed, but all the more deeply in his compassion for Mary. The letter of the Law would have her not only divorced and sent away, but stoned to death as a public spectacle, as a harsh example to others. Joseph honors the command, but he honors the heart of God in the Gospel, which does not punish but spares the sinner.
Of course, though Mary is a sinner, because she too has inherited the sin and guilt and death of Adam and Eve, she is without any sin or guilt in the conception of her Son. In this she is chaste and pure and faithful. But not in the eyes of the world. St. Joseph believes the Word of the Lord concerning his bride, but in taking her to be his wife he makes her public shame his own. He covers her with righteousness, as her Son shall cover the world with His righteousness. St. Joseph protects the Blessed Virgin from the accusation of the Law, but he will suffer for it. Her Son will suffer far more; for them and all the House of David, for you and all the world, for Jews and Gentiles alike.
Already in St. Joseph you are given a beautiful example of the Christian faith and life, of righteousness and faithfulness under the Cross of Christ. The Cross is several decades down the road, but it is the Cross that Joseph suffers for his obedience of faith.
It is the Cross that you are given to bear and suffer, as well, for the benefit of your neighbor, your spouse and children, your friends and enemies. It is sure that none of your neighbors is the pure and spotless Virgin Mary bearing the Son of God in her womb, but you are called to deal with all of your neighbors in charity and love, for the sake of her Son.
Do not condone or accommodate sin, whether against the Sixth Commandment or any other, but forgive as you are forgiven; show mercy in the loving-kindness of your God; deal with your neighbor in the Peace of Christ. It is more than the cheerfulness and generosity of the season. It is care and concern and real help at all times, in every place, as you are given the opportunity. Not for a show or the goodwill of man, but even at great personal cost, and even when it causes the world to scowl at you.
Help your neighbor in need, up and down the street, left and right. But do not neglect or despise those neighbors whom the Lord has entrusted most closely to your care: your parents, your spouse and children. Honor your father and mother with obedience when you are young, and with tender provision when they are old. Not only when they are wise and kind and attentive to you, but also when they are grumpy and ill-tempered, or senile and crazy.
Love and cherish your wife or husband, not only on your honeymoon, but every day of your life together, for as long as you both shall live: in good times and bad, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer. Be faithful and honest, not only by avoiding adulterous affairs, but by giving yourself, your heart, mind and body, fully to your spouse. Trust the Lord who has given your wife to you, who has given you to your husband. And trusting the Lord, forgive your spouse for Jesus’ sake.
Care for your children, also, with love and mercy and forgiveness. Deal with them gently and with patience, as the Lord is long-suffering, slow to anger, and compassionate with you. Do not fail to discipline your children, to teach them right and wrong, to train them in the way they should go, in the fear of the Lord. But do not vent your own sinful anger upon them; they suffer, as it is, for the sins of their father and mother. Remember that the little Lord Jesus was Himself a Child, and that He welcomes the little children to His own embrace; not because they are perfect little angels without sin, but because He has given Himself for them, and He forgives them, as He also forgives you.
Do all of this, and more, according to the vocations in life to which the Lord has called you. Do so because it is good and right: to honor the Word of the Lord and to serve your neighbor in love. Do not be afraid to do what you are thus given to do. Perhaps you will suffer greatly for it, but the Lord shall sustain you; He will strengthen you and keep you, in faith, even unto the life everlasting.
Consider the outcome of the Cross of Christ: Both He and you are vindicated in His Resurrection from the dead. What is there to fear? What can any man, woman or child do to rob you of that life which is yours forever by grace through faith in Christ?
You do not work and serve and strive and suffer for your own sake, as though to save yourself. You do it for the Lord (in faith) and for your neighbor (in love). Because the Lord has commanded, and your neighbor has need of it.
Rest assured, the Lord will accomplish His purposes for you, and for your neighbor. He does not need your help. But you need Him. And as He does serve you with all that you need for both body and soul, for this life and the life everlasting, so does He desire that you serve your neighbor in His Name. Feed and clothe and shelter your neighbor’s body, therefore, with the means provided by the Lord. And do not neglect to speak His Word to your neighbor; it is the most precious gift of all.
You are privileged to speak this Word of God (to confess His Word) — which is to say what is more important and significant than any president or king might otherwise declare — you are able to do so, because the Lord your God speaks to you. His Word of the Law commands the way you are to go, according to the good and acceptable will of God. But His Word to you is chiefly and decisively His Gospel, the speaking of the beloved and well-pleasing Son in the flesh: into your ears, into your heart, into your body and life.
In this Gospel He has great mercy and divine compassion upon you, exceeding that of Joseph for Mary; exceeding all that you could ever imagine or suppose. He does not punish you for all your sins and failures of thought, word and deed. He spares you, and does not withhold His goodness from you. He bears with you in love, and bears both you and all your burdens with divine charity and providence.
Not with a wink and a nod, but at the greatest cost and sacrifice. The Father gives the Son, and the Son submits Himself in humble obedience, even unto death upon the Cross. He becomes flesh, in which there is no shame, but in that flesh and blood like yours, conceived and born of Mary, He bears your sins and carries your sorrows and suffers all the curse and consequence of your wrongs.
He has borne the full burden of the Law on your behalf, in order to cover you with His righteousness. He makes all your shame and guilt His own, in order to clothe you with His innocence and glorify you with His holiness. For He has kept the entire Law perfectly, both the letter and the Spirit of it, to your credit and benefit! And yet, He has also suffered the guilty verdict, the sentencing, and the punishment of the Law against all of your transgressions.
In this way, the Lord Jesus Christ has perfectly satisfied and perfectly fulfilled the Law: in your stead and for your advantage. In His Incarnation and His Cross, the true heart of God the Father has been opened to you in love and forgiveness. For He has rescued you from every evil, from sin, death, the devil and hell, and He has reconciled you to Himself.
His good and gracious will for you has been, not only to save you from death and damnation, but to share with you Himself and His Life. It is finally for that purpose that He has come to be with you: that you may be and abide with Him forever, where He is. Not as a visitor, a temporary guest, but as a son of God by grace, truly at home with Him in His house, in His Kingdom, in the very bosom of His Father — who is now your Father in heaven.
Here is a Word as "impossible" and difficult as the Word of the Lord to the House of David. The Virgin has conceived a Son by the Holy Spirit, and He is God the Savior. Your Savior.
In the flesh and blood of Mary’s Son, Christ Jesus, the Lord your God is with you. Not "once upon a time," back then and there, but here and now: with you, and for you. This same Jesus, this same God, this Savior, is with you and speaks to you in His Word of the Gospel, which is the Absolution of your sins. You are acquitted. You are set free. You shall not die but live.
He is with you, with His Word, in the waters of Holy Baptism. Therein, by the same Word and Spirit of God by which the Blessed Virgin Mary conceived the Son in her womb, you have been conceived and born again as a son of God in Christ. You bear His Name — you are a Christian — because He is with you and He saves you.
He is with you, also, as intimately as He was with St. Mary in her womb, when He feeds you in the Holy Communion with the same Body and Blood that she bore in Bethlehem.
Do not be afraid to take and eat and drink this Sacrament, as a member of His Bride, the Church, but know that He is here for you to save you, closer than a lover. And He shall keep you and preserve you, chaste and pure by His gracious forgiveness, steadfast in the one true faith — even under the Cross — unto the life everlasting.
It is by these means of grace that He fulfills and accomplishes for you what His dear Name proclaims: Salvation! For it is by and with this flesh and blood of His, conceived and born of the Seed of David, that He has redeemed you. He is here with you, not to punish you or put you to death, but to love you, to give you Himself and His Life.
It is a wondrous Word that is here preached to you, full of the gracious and wonderful works of God. He has acted on your behalf, and He is still taking every initiative and acting to save you, to give you all good things and every perfect gift. The Lord Himself is your Savior, and He has become your Salvation. He has been conceived and born of the Blessed Virgin Mary, becoming flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood, so that He who is begotten of the Father from eternity is also (now and ever) true Man: like you.
He is the promised Son of David, who shall be seated on His throne and reign forever and ever. But neither David himself, nor any of his royal sons, nor humble Joseph either, brings about this birth and crowning glory. The Lord Jesus is conceived and born of David’s daughter, the Virgin, apart from any man. The House of David neither takes from God, nor gives to Him, but hears His Word and receives His gift, His Son.
With Ahaz, the Word and the gift are despised and rejected, but they could not be thwarted. With Joseph, they are heard and received in faith, in repentance and righteous obedience. St. Joseph is no king, nor is he the natural father of the Christ. But the Lord speaks to Joseph, and that righteous man believes and obeys. There is no hesitation, no talking back or argument. Each time he hears the Word of the Lord, he takes it to heart and immediately acts upon it.
It is in the righteousness of faith that he does so. Even before the Lord has revealed to him that his bride has not been unfaithful and adulterous, but shall bear a Son by the Holy Spirit, Joseph has already determined to deal with her in mercy. His righteousness is found, not only in his respect for the Law, for the Sixth Commandment and the sanctity of the marriage bed, but all the more deeply in his compassion for Mary. The letter of the Law would have her not only divorced and sent away, but stoned to death as a public spectacle, as a harsh example to others. Joseph honors the command, but he honors the heart of God in the Gospel, which does not punish but spares the sinner.
Of course, though Mary is a sinner, because she too has inherited the sin and guilt and death of Adam and Eve, she is without any sin or guilt in the conception of her Son. In this she is chaste and pure and faithful. But not in the eyes of the world. St. Joseph believes the Word of the Lord concerning his bride, but in taking her to be his wife he makes her public shame his own. He covers her with righteousness, as her Son shall cover the world with His righteousness. St. Joseph protects the Blessed Virgin from the accusation of the Law, but he will suffer for it. Her Son will suffer far more; for them and all the House of David, for you and all the world, for Jews and Gentiles alike.
Already in St. Joseph you are given a beautiful example of the Christian faith and life, of righteousness and faithfulness under the Cross of Christ. The Cross is several decades down the road, but it is the Cross that Joseph suffers for his obedience of faith.
It is the Cross that you are given to bear and suffer, as well, for the benefit of your neighbor, your spouse and children, your friends and enemies. It is sure that none of your neighbors is the pure and spotless Virgin Mary bearing the Son of God in her womb, but you are called to deal with all of your neighbors in charity and love, for the sake of her Son.
Do not condone or accommodate sin, whether against the Sixth Commandment or any other, but forgive as you are forgiven; show mercy in the loving-kindness of your God; deal with your neighbor in the Peace of Christ. It is more than the cheerfulness and generosity of the season. It is care and concern and real help at all times, in every place, as you are given the opportunity. Not for a show or the goodwill of man, but even at great personal cost, and even when it causes the world to scowl at you.
Help your neighbor in need, up and down the street, left and right. But do not neglect or despise those neighbors whom the Lord has entrusted most closely to your care: your parents, your spouse and children. Honor your father and mother with obedience when you are young, and with tender provision when they are old. Not only when they are wise and kind and attentive to you, but also when they are grumpy and ill-tempered, or senile and crazy.
Love and cherish your wife or husband, not only on your honeymoon, but every day of your life together, for as long as you both shall live: in good times and bad, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer. Be faithful and honest, not only by avoiding adulterous affairs, but by giving yourself, your heart, mind and body, fully to your spouse. Trust the Lord who has given your wife to you, who has given you to your husband. And trusting the Lord, forgive your spouse for Jesus’ sake.
Care for your children, also, with love and mercy and forgiveness. Deal with them gently and with patience, as the Lord is long-suffering, slow to anger, and compassionate with you. Do not fail to discipline your children, to teach them right and wrong, to train them in the way they should go, in the fear of the Lord. But do not vent your own sinful anger upon them; they suffer, as it is, for the sins of their father and mother. Remember that the little Lord Jesus was Himself a Child, and that He welcomes the little children to His own embrace; not because they are perfect little angels without sin, but because He has given Himself for them, and He forgives them, as He also forgives you.
Do all of this, and more, according to the vocations in life to which the Lord has called you. Do so because it is good and right: to honor the Word of the Lord and to serve your neighbor in love. Do not be afraid to do what you are thus given to do. Perhaps you will suffer greatly for it, but the Lord shall sustain you; He will strengthen you and keep you, in faith, even unto the life everlasting.
Consider the outcome of the Cross of Christ: Both He and you are vindicated in His Resurrection from the dead. What is there to fear? What can any man, woman or child do to rob you of that life which is yours forever by grace through faith in Christ?
You do not work and serve and strive and suffer for your own sake, as though to save yourself. You do it for the Lord (in faith) and for your neighbor (in love). Because the Lord has commanded, and your neighbor has need of it.
Rest assured, the Lord will accomplish His purposes for you, and for your neighbor. He does not need your help. But you need Him. And as He does serve you with all that you need for both body and soul, for this life and the life everlasting, so does He desire that you serve your neighbor in His Name. Feed and clothe and shelter your neighbor’s body, therefore, with the means provided by the Lord. And do not neglect to speak His Word to your neighbor; it is the most precious gift of all.
You are privileged to speak this Word of God (to confess His Word) — which is to say what is more important and significant than any president or king might otherwise declare — you are able to do so, because the Lord your God speaks to you. His Word of the Law commands the way you are to go, according to the good and acceptable will of God. But His Word to you is chiefly and decisively His Gospel, the speaking of the beloved and well-pleasing Son in the flesh: into your ears, into your heart, into your body and life.
In this Gospel He has great mercy and divine compassion upon you, exceeding that of Joseph for Mary; exceeding all that you could ever imagine or suppose. He does not punish you for all your sins and failures of thought, word and deed. He spares you, and does not withhold His goodness from you. He bears with you in love, and bears both you and all your burdens with divine charity and providence.
Not with a wink and a nod, but at the greatest cost and sacrifice. The Father gives the Son, and the Son submits Himself in humble obedience, even unto death upon the Cross. He becomes flesh, in which there is no shame, but in that flesh and blood like yours, conceived and born of Mary, He bears your sins and carries your sorrows and suffers all the curse and consequence of your wrongs.
He has borne the full burden of the Law on your behalf, in order to cover you with His righteousness. He makes all your shame and guilt His own, in order to clothe you with His innocence and glorify you with His holiness. For He has kept the entire Law perfectly, both the letter and the Spirit of it, to your credit and benefit! And yet, He has also suffered the guilty verdict, the sentencing, and the punishment of the Law against all of your transgressions.
In this way, the Lord Jesus Christ has perfectly satisfied and perfectly fulfilled the Law: in your stead and for your advantage. In His Incarnation and His Cross, the true heart of God the Father has been opened to you in love and forgiveness. For He has rescued you from every evil, from sin, death, the devil and hell, and He has reconciled you to Himself.
His good and gracious will for you has been, not only to save you from death and damnation, but to share with you Himself and His Life. It is finally for that purpose that He has come to be with you: that you may be and abide with Him forever, where He is. Not as a visitor, a temporary guest, but as a son of God by grace, truly at home with Him in His house, in His Kingdom, in the very bosom of His Father — who is now your Father in heaven.
Here is a Word as "impossible" and difficult as the Word of the Lord to the House of David. The Virgin has conceived a Son by the Holy Spirit, and He is God the Savior. Your Savior.
In the flesh and blood of Mary’s Son, Christ Jesus, the Lord your God is with you. Not "once upon a time," back then and there, but here and now: with you, and for you. This same Jesus, this same God, this Savior, is with you and speaks to you in His Word of the Gospel, which is the Absolution of your sins. You are acquitted. You are set free. You shall not die but live.
He is with you, with His Word, in the waters of Holy Baptism. Therein, by the same Word and Spirit of God by which the Blessed Virgin Mary conceived the Son in her womb, you have been conceived and born again as a son of God in Christ. You bear His Name — you are a Christian — because He is with you and He saves you.
He is with you, also, as intimately as He was with St. Mary in her womb, when He feeds you in the Holy Communion with the same Body and Blood that she bore in Bethlehem.
Do not be afraid to take and eat and drink this Sacrament, as a member of His Bride, the Church, but know that He is here for you to save you, closer than a lover. And He shall keep you and preserve you, chaste and pure by His gracious forgiveness, steadfast in the one true faith — even under the Cross — unto the life everlasting.
It is by these means of grace that He fulfills and accomplishes for you what His dear Name proclaims: Salvation! For it is by and with this flesh and blood of His, conceived and born of the Seed of David, that He has redeemed you. He is here with you, not to punish you or put you to death, but to love you, to give you Himself and His Life.
20 December 2007
The Original Beanie Baby Is Back
At least, I had never heard of any other "Beanie Babies" back before my DoRena-Beana was born. That was 21 years ago this coming month. We called her "Dinky" prior to her nativity, because we didn't know whether she was a boy or a girl, and we did not want to depersonalize her by calling her "the baby" or "it." I've always been uncomfortable with referring to a baby as an "it," whether in or out of the womb. If DoRena had been a boy, I don't remember what we would have named him (my wife probably does); but never mind that, it doesn't matter. I nicknamed her "DoRena-Beana" very soon after she was born, and that eventually morphed into "Beanie," which has pretty well stuck with her family and friends; except that she is also "Sissy," especially to her siblings (and to her parents when they are talking to her siblings about her). Whew, I'm already exhausted, and I haven't even gotten to the main point yet!
I went to Bloomington on Sunday to bring my Beanie Baby back for the holy days. I am well aware that she is not a baby anymore, but daddies perceive and relate to their daughters within a time warp, and, I'm sorry, but Tim McGraw is right, to me she'll always be my little girl. I can look at her and see that she is all growed up and beautiful, and positively glowing with happiness as she looks forward to getting married in May. But she is my firstborn, and the memories of her as a baby and a toddler are permanently etched upon my brain and on my heart. So, anyway, I was relishing the chance to go and get her for the Christmas break, especially because this is the last "hoorah!" for us as a family before her spring wedding. I was looking forward to the chance to visit with her, and to car trip with her homeward.
Well, you know that old saying about the best laid plans of mice and men?
Okay, so she got a car. Yep, that's right, her very first set of wheels. No, she didn't win it as a prize, but she did get it for a good price, and I'm pleased as punch for her to have her very own vehicle. But that's where the plot begins to thicken. First of all, it already meant that we wouldn't be road trippin' it together, not exactly. Still, caravanning can also be fun, even if it is only two people in two cars with lots of college stuff. Alas, that was also not meant to be. For, lo and behold, and unbeknownst to me (it is a good thing that Emily has her wits about her), when you purchase a car from a private individual (in contrast to a dealership), you don't get any "in transit" time. No sirree, Bob, you had better get that little beauty registered and plated quick smart, lest you be pulled over, ticketed and towed. Great. And just to make things even more interesting, the department of motor vehicles in Bloomington, Indiana, isn't open on Mondays. Why not? you ask. I could not tell you. Nor could I remain in Bloomington, myself, past Monday morning.
So, instead of bringing home my Beanie Baby on Monday, I brought home a carload of her belongings and left her behind for another day in Bloomington. To be more precise, I ran her around on a couple of errands, put some spending money in her hands, and tucked her back into bed with a head-splitting, sick-to-her-stomach migraine. That was not such a fun way to start the week. I drove home to South Bend, thankful that the roads were much improved over the condition they were in the day before. And I prayed that, first of all, she would not have any trouble getting her car registered the next day, and second, that she would be kept safe and sound on her lonely drive home all by herself. I was not the most cheerful person on Monday, as I was discouraged for my daughter, disappointed that I wasn't bringing her home, and most of all distraught that I could not simply take care of her. It is, I think, most difficult to let go of the responsibility that I have had for her all these years. I'm still her Daddy, to be sure, but my headship as her father is beginning to give way to the one who will soon be her husband, and to the plain fact that she is an adult now (no matter what my mental picture of her may be).
Ah, cruel world it is. I'm already empathizing with my colleague, who has five daughters to give away in years to come. Those years will come and go too quickly, if my own experience is any indication. Saying goodbye to sons as they grow up is no picnic, either, but that separation is of a different sort. I guess that each relationship and each experience is different, as each person is a unique individual, but there are certain things that simply are what they are for everyone.
Now, then, we have three weeks to bask in the glow of our Beanie Baby and to savor our time with her while she still shares our name and officially calls our home her "permanent" address. To speak of "permanence" seems a cruel sort of irony, but I am pleased for her to be spreading her wings and making plans for a nest of her own. In the meantime, I cannot hide my delight to have her around again. (Oh, yeah, she got home safely Tuesday night, in answer to my prayers and much to my relief.) I got to take her to the dentist this morning, and then out for brunch. She was also in church for an Advent prayer service this morning, and I am positively giddy to have her around for the services of the coming weeks. That is where and how I get to serve her best, not only as her Daddy, but as her Pastor (for a little while yet). My heart likewise thrills to hear her having fun with her brothers and sisters, too, who clearly love having her home.
The original Beanie Baby is still in her original packaging, so I guess that makes her a mint condition collector's item. Sam certainly seems to think so. She's not for sale at any price, but I am pleased to be giving her away to a good man; I know the two of them will make a good home together. She is a one-of-a-kind treasure, not to be found on e-bay or at any garage sale. I'm not sure how it is that the Lord should ever have entrusted such a priceless creature to one such as me, but He has not only preserved her but enabled her to grow and thrive and excel in so many ways. There must be people who get tired of hearing me dote over my daughter and my other children, but I can't help myself. I'm sure I must be quite a sight sometimes, gazing at my "little girl" with a goofy grin on my face, bursting with pride and joy in my beautiful Beanie Baby, marveling at the accomplished young woman she has become. I am truly blessed to be her Daddy, and sincerely thankful that the Lord has brought her safely home to us once more this Christmas.
I went to Bloomington on Sunday to bring my Beanie Baby back for the holy days. I am well aware that she is not a baby anymore, but daddies perceive and relate to their daughters within a time warp, and, I'm sorry, but Tim McGraw is right, to me she'll always be my little girl. I can look at her and see that she is all growed up and beautiful, and positively glowing with happiness as she looks forward to getting married in May. But she is my firstborn, and the memories of her as a baby and a toddler are permanently etched upon my brain and on my heart. So, anyway, I was relishing the chance to go and get her for the Christmas break, especially because this is the last "hoorah!" for us as a family before her spring wedding. I was looking forward to the chance to visit with her, and to car trip with her homeward.
Well, you know that old saying about the best laid plans of mice and men?
Okay, so she got a car. Yep, that's right, her very first set of wheels. No, she didn't win it as a prize, but she did get it for a good price, and I'm pleased as punch for her to have her very own vehicle. But that's where the plot begins to thicken. First of all, it already meant that we wouldn't be road trippin' it together, not exactly. Still, caravanning can also be fun, even if it is only two people in two cars with lots of college stuff. Alas, that was also not meant to be. For, lo and behold, and unbeknownst to me (it is a good thing that Emily has her wits about her), when you purchase a car from a private individual (in contrast to a dealership), you don't get any "in transit" time. No sirree, Bob, you had better get that little beauty registered and plated quick smart, lest you be pulled over, ticketed and towed. Great. And just to make things even more interesting, the department of motor vehicles in Bloomington, Indiana, isn't open on Mondays. Why not? you ask. I could not tell you. Nor could I remain in Bloomington, myself, past Monday morning.
So, instead of bringing home my Beanie Baby on Monday, I brought home a carload of her belongings and left her behind for another day in Bloomington. To be more precise, I ran her around on a couple of errands, put some spending money in her hands, and tucked her back into bed with a head-splitting, sick-to-her-stomach migraine. That was not such a fun way to start the week. I drove home to South Bend, thankful that the roads were much improved over the condition they were in the day before. And I prayed that, first of all, she would not have any trouble getting her car registered the next day, and second, that she would be kept safe and sound on her lonely drive home all by herself. I was not the most cheerful person on Monday, as I was discouraged for my daughter, disappointed that I wasn't bringing her home, and most of all distraught that I could not simply take care of her. It is, I think, most difficult to let go of the responsibility that I have had for her all these years. I'm still her Daddy, to be sure, but my headship as her father is beginning to give way to the one who will soon be her husband, and to the plain fact that she is an adult now (no matter what my mental picture of her may be).
Ah, cruel world it is. I'm already empathizing with my colleague, who has five daughters to give away in years to come. Those years will come and go too quickly, if my own experience is any indication. Saying goodbye to sons as they grow up is no picnic, either, but that separation is of a different sort. I guess that each relationship and each experience is different, as each person is a unique individual, but there are certain things that simply are what they are for everyone.
Now, then, we have three weeks to bask in the glow of our Beanie Baby and to savor our time with her while she still shares our name and officially calls our home her "permanent" address. To speak of "permanence" seems a cruel sort of irony, but I am pleased for her to be spreading her wings and making plans for a nest of her own. In the meantime, I cannot hide my delight to have her around again. (Oh, yeah, she got home safely Tuesday night, in answer to my prayers and much to my relief.) I got to take her to the dentist this morning, and then out for brunch. She was also in church for an Advent prayer service this morning, and I am positively giddy to have her around for the services of the coming weeks. That is where and how I get to serve her best, not only as her Daddy, but as her Pastor (for a little while yet). My heart likewise thrills to hear her having fun with her brothers and sisters, too, who clearly love having her home.
The original Beanie Baby is still in her original packaging, so I guess that makes her a mint condition collector's item. Sam certainly seems to think so. She's not for sale at any price, but I am pleased to be giving her away to a good man; I know the two of them will make a good home together. She is a one-of-a-kind treasure, not to be found on e-bay or at any garage sale. I'm not sure how it is that the Lord should ever have entrusted such a priceless creature to one such as me, but He has not only preserved her but enabled her to grow and thrive and excel in so many ways. There must be people who get tired of hearing me dote over my daughter and my other children, but I can't help myself. I'm sure I must be quite a sight sometimes, gazing at my "little girl" with a goofy grin on my face, bursting with pride and joy in my beautiful Beanie Baby, marveling at the accomplished young woman she has become. I am truly blessed to be her Daddy, and sincerely thankful that the Lord has brought her safely home to us once more this Christmas.
15 December 2007
Whose Way St. John the Baptist Prepared
I realize I run the risk of ruining my reputation, if ever I say anything positive about the three-year lectionary. All the more so if I offer any hint of constructive criticism concerning the historic (medieval western) lectionary. I have no beef with the historic lectionary, but neither do I regard it as the litmus test of orthodoxy that many of my dear friends and colleagues hold it to be. It has its strengths and, dare I say, its weaknesses; so does the three-year lectionary. Normally, though, because I have grown weary of arguing about it, I simply bite my tongue and swallow any comments I might otherwise offer.
I'm throwing caution to the wind in this case, however, because I have been struck by a realization this past week that still leaves me curious. Advent Tide in the three-year lectionary features prominently the preaching of repentance by St. John the Baptist, especially from St. Matthew (in Series A) and St. Luke (in Series C), and to the extent that St. Mark records it (in Series B). I think this is a good thing, which accords well with the good purpose for which the holy Evangelists recorded St. John's preaching. What has struck me, in particular, is that this preaching does not occur in the historic lectionary, leastwise not on any of the Sundays (neither in Advent Tide, nor elsewhere in the course of the year). It does seem likely that it may be among the Lections appointed for weekday Masses in the historic Roman missal, but I'm not sure to what extent those have found a regular place among Lutherans. Granted, the historic Fourth Sunday in Advent features the important words of St. John the Baptist as recorded by St. John the Evangelist, but that is a decidedly different sort of proclamation than his preaching of repentance in the three Synoptic Gospels.
Not only that, but the historic lectionary has tended to relegate the Baptism of Our Lord to relative obscurity, although that occasion has floated about a bit between Christmas Tide and the first week of Epiphany Tide. The Lutheran Service Book redaction of the historic lectionary has taken the liberty of listing the Baptism of Our Lord as the first option for the First Sunday after the Epiphany, following the lead of the three-year lectionary in that instance. Heretofore, I have to wonder to what extent the Forerunner's preaching and Baptism of repentance were heard among those following the historic (medieval western) lectionary. I also wonder why it may have been so limited, because that does not seem like such a good thing to me.
I realize that, of course, the work of St. John the Baptist was historically fulfilled and completed with the first Advent of the Christ in the flesh. Clearly, John does decrease and Christ increases, and that is only right. But I maintain that the office of the Forerunner necessarily continues, as the Advent of Christ also continues in the Ministry of the Gospel. In any case, the Evangelists not only record the preaching of St. John (as more than a bit of historic trivia, I warrant), but they also summarize the preaching of Christ and His Apostles as a continuation of St. John's preaching: "Repent! for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." The preaching of St. Peter on Pentecost Day is once more an echo of the Forerunner's preaching: "Repent, and be baptized!" And when our Lord Himself was questioned as to His authority, He linked Himself specifically to the authority with which St. John the Baptist had been sent. In light of all of this, it seems to me that the actual preaching of St. John, as recorded especially by St. Matthew and St. Luke, is a proclamation that needs to continue in the life of the Church on earth, as the very means by which the Lord prepares His way before Him.
For my part, I am very pleased and satisfied with the way in which the LSB three-year lectionary handles the end of the Church Year and the Season of Advent, which historically belong together as a penitential period of waiting upon the coming of Christ. Each of the three years offers its own nuances, but they all retain essentially the same basic pattern and movement. The eschatological preaching and emphasis of Advent 2 in the historic lectionary, sound forth in the final Sundays of the Church Year, and then the ministry of St. John the Baptist comes into focus on the Second and Third Sundays in Advent. In this way, the LCMS Proper Preface for Advent seems less like reminiscing and more the confession of what the Lord is still doing among us. The entry of our Lord into Jerusalem is given preference on the First Sunday in Advent, reclaiming that salutary keynote to the Church Year, and the coming of our Lord in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary characterizes the Fourth Sunday in Advent. Waiting with a woman for the birth of her child seems most appropriate, not only in anticipation of Christmas, but also as the Church experiences the "birth pangs" of the approaching judgment.
I'm throwing caution to the wind in this case, however, because I have been struck by a realization this past week that still leaves me curious. Advent Tide in the three-year lectionary features prominently the preaching of repentance by St. John the Baptist, especially from St. Matthew (in Series A) and St. Luke (in Series C), and to the extent that St. Mark records it (in Series B). I think this is a good thing, which accords well with the good purpose for which the holy Evangelists recorded St. John's preaching. What has struck me, in particular, is that this preaching does not occur in the historic lectionary, leastwise not on any of the Sundays (neither in Advent Tide, nor elsewhere in the course of the year). It does seem likely that it may be among the Lections appointed for weekday Masses in the historic Roman missal, but I'm not sure to what extent those have found a regular place among Lutherans. Granted, the historic Fourth Sunday in Advent features the important words of St. John the Baptist as recorded by St. John the Evangelist, but that is a decidedly different sort of proclamation than his preaching of repentance in the three Synoptic Gospels.
Not only that, but the historic lectionary has tended to relegate the Baptism of Our Lord to relative obscurity, although that occasion has floated about a bit between Christmas Tide and the first week of Epiphany Tide. The Lutheran Service Book redaction of the historic lectionary has taken the liberty of listing the Baptism of Our Lord as the first option for the First Sunday after the Epiphany, following the lead of the three-year lectionary in that instance. Heretofore, I have to wonder to what extent the Forerunner's preaching and Baptism of repentance were heard among those following the historic (medieval western) lectionary. I also wonder why it may have been so limited, because that does not seem like such a good thing to me.
I realize that, of course, the work of St. John the Baptist was historically fulfilled and completed with the first Advent of the Christ in the flesh. Clearly, John does decrease and Christ increases, and that is only right. But I maintain that the office of the Forerunner necessarily continues, as the Advent of Christ also continues in the Ministry of the Gospel. In any case, the Evangelists not only record the preaching of St. John (as more than a bit of historic trivia, I warrant), but they also summarize the preaching of Christ and His Apostles as a continuation of St. John's preaching: "Repent! for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." The preaching of St. Peter on Pentecost Day is once more an echo of the Forerunner's preaching: "Repent, and be baptized!" And when our Lord Himself was questioned as to His authority, He linked Himself specifically to the authority with which St. John the Baptist had been sent. In light of all of this, it seems to me that the actual preaching of St. John, as recorded especially by St. Matthew and St. Luke, is a proclamation that needs to continue in the life of the Church on earth, as the very means by which the Lord prepares His way before Him.
For my part, I am very pleased and satisfied with the way in which the LSB three-year lectionary handles the end of the Church Year and the Season of Advent, which historically belong together as a penitential period of waiting upon the coming of Christ. Each of the three years offers its own nuances, but they all retain essentially the same basic pattern and movement. The eschatological preaching and emphasis of Advent 2 in the historic lectionary, sound forth in the final Sundays of the Church Year, and then the ministry of St. John the Baptist comes into focus on the Second and Third Sundays in Advent. In this way, the LCMS Proper Preface for Advent seems less like reminiscing and more the confession of what the Lord is still doing among us. The entry of our Lord into Jerusalem is given preference on the First Sunday in Advent, reclaiming that salutary keynote to the Church Year, and the coming of our Lord in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary characterizes the Fourth Sunday in Advent. Waiting with a woman for the birth of her child seems most appropriate, not only in anticipation of Christmas, but also as the Church experiences the "birth pangs" of the approaching judgment.
Gaudete
Hear the Gospel that is preached to you, which heals you and gives you life in place of death. Hear it and believe it, though you cannot see it or feel it.
Be patient. Do not give up hope; do not despair; but wait upon the Lord who comes to save you. He is at hand with mercy and compassion in all His dealings with you. He has not forgotten you.
Be patient also with your neighbor. Do not complain about, criticize or condemn him (or her). But bear with your neighbor in love and with forgiveness, in the faith of Christ Jesus (the Savior of all).
Would you presume to wrest away from God or your neighbor, by force, what you can only receive as charity? You may try it, in your restlessness and littleness of faith, but you cannot do it. You are not greater than John the Baptist, and neither he nor you could escape from the prison house of sin and death, nor break your own way into the Kingdom of Heaven. For by your natural birth, the inheritance of your parents and ancestors all the way back to Adam & Eve, you are burdened and beleaguered, subject to infirmity and mortality: blind and deaf, crippled and impoverished.
Of yourself, you are a reed shaken by the wind, a leaf that is blown away by even the slightest gust. You are prone to discouragement and despair, impatient with God and man, irritable and cranky.
You have not suffered as the Prophets have, nor as St. John, the holy Apostles, or Christ Himself have. You have not been sifted and sorted by Satan to the extremes that Job was. Yet, you doubt; you wonder and worry; you question and complain. You shake your fist and wring your hands and rail at the heavens that your life is not fair, that God is not fair, and that you have been abandoned.
In truth, the Lord has been faithful to all His servants. He has not abandoned them, but delivered them in mercy. He is faithful to you, also, and in His Love He will never leave you nor forsake you. He deals with you, not as you deserve, but with compassion: by and from and with His own Cross: by the way of His voluntary suffering and death, the shedding of His holy, precious blood for you.
Do not be offended by the Cross and Crucifixion of your Savior and your God, but rejoice in this!
It is by His Cross that He has opened the way into the Kingdom of Heaven. By His Cross that blind eyes are opened and deaf ears unstopped. By His Cross that the lame walk and lepers are cleansed. By His Cross that the dead are raised with Him to new life.
It is the Gospel of the Cross that is preached to you in the wilderness, in your poverty and weakness. And it is by that Gospel of the Cross — especially by your death with Christ in the waters of your Holy Baptism — that you are born again to a new and living hope in the Kingdom of God.
This way and means of the Cross is a paradox and contradiction. But do not take offense. It appears to offer nothing, to do and accomplish nothing. It promises life and health and every blessing, but you remain hungry and hurting, imprisoned or worse, whether in mind, body or other circumstance.
The preacher of the Gospel of the Cross, himself, comes to you in the frailty and weakness of mortal flesh like your own, as feeble and fallible as you are. What good are such prophets and apostles of the Cross, if they too are sick or in prison, hungry or thirsty, tired or anxious? How can they help or save you, if they cannot help or save themselves?
Yet, if St. John the Baptist exceeds all the Prophets before him, because he ushers in the Lord Jesus Christ — the Son of God in the flesh, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world — your own pastor surpasses St. John in the Word that he preaches and the gifts that he gives to you from the Cross of Christ. Here is the Kingdom of Heaven, not only at hand, but fully accomplished.
That is the Word that is preached to you — the Gospel — the forgiveness of all your sins! A Word of the Cross: a Word of contradiction, but for all of that a Word of Christ, which heals and gives life.
Now, for a little while, it may seem as though this Word does nothing, as though it were a lie. Yet, you cannot live without this Word of Christ — and by it you do in fact live forever. Go out to hear that Word, therefore, and do not seek any other sort of help or hope. If you cannot go out to hear it, then ask that it be brought to you and spoken to you, wherever you may be confined. Do not suppose that you have already heard it and know it well enough. You need to be hearing it, and to keep on hearing it, for as long as you shall live.
You need to hear this Word of Christ, for faith comes and remains only by this hearing of the Gospel. You need to hear it, also, so that you have the Word of Christ to speak to your neighbor (including your pastor). For it is by this Word of Christ that you are patient with the Lord and with your neighbor: Patient with your Lord in faith, and patient with your neighbor in love; so that, instead of grumbling and complaining, you forgive and you encourage; instead of envy and jealousy, bitterness and resentment, you have mercy and compassion (even for those who hurt you).
You live in love toward your neighbor, because you live in the true freedom of the Gospel. Your body may be imprisoned by any number of restrictions, but you are free indeed in Christ. Herod may even put you to death, or Pilate may crucify and bury you, but you shall live.
Be patient. The Lord is coming for you. He is always coming to you, always preaching His Gospel to you. Even now He is standing at the door. In His Word to you, He is with you, now and always. His preaching of the Gospel is not empty or useless. His Word is true, as He Himself is true. And He is for you. He has not forgotten you; He will not forget you. He remembers you and helps you.
Consider the outcome of His dealings with you. You already know it in His own Resurrection from the dead. Sharing His Cross, you share His Life! In this you rejoice, as He rejoices over you in love. In the Name + of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Be patient. Do not give up hope; do not despair; but wait upon the Lord who comes to save you. He is at hand with mercy and compassion in all His dealings with you. He has not forgotten you.
Be patient also with your neighbor. Do not complain about, criticize or condemn him (or her). But bear with your neighbor in love and with forgiveness, in the faith of Christ Jesus (the Savior of all).
Would you presume to wrest away from God or your neighbor, by force, what you can only receive as charity? You may try it, in your restlessness and littleness of faith, but you cannot do it. You are not greater than John the Baptist, and neither he nor you could escape from the prison house of sin and death, nor break your own way into the Kingdom of Heaven. For by your natural birth, the inheritance of your parents and ancestors all the way back to Adam & Eve, you are burdened and beleaguered, subject to infirmity and mortality: blind and deaf, crippled and impoverished.
Of yourself, you are a reed shaken by the wind, a leaf that is blown away by even the slightest gust. You are prone to discouragement and despair, impatient with God and man, irritable and cranky.
You have not suffered as the Prophets have, nor as St. John, the holy Apostles, or Christ Himself have. You have not been sifted and sorted by Satan to the extremes that Job was. Yet, you doubt; you wonder and worry; you question and complain. You shake your fist and wring your hands and rail at the heavens that your life is not fair, that God is not fair, and that you have been abandoned.
In truth, the Lord has been faithful to all His servants. He has not abandoned them, but delivered them in mercy. He is faithful to you, also, and in His Love He will never leave you nor forsake you. He deals with you, not as you deserve, but with compassion: by and from and with His own Cross: by the way of His voluntary suffering and death, the shedding of His holy, precious blood for you.
Do not be offended by the Cross and Crucifixion of your Savior and your God, but rejoice in this!
It is by His Cross that He has opened the way into the Kingdom of Heaven. By His Cross that blind eyes are opened and deaf ears unstopped. By His Cross that the lame walk and lepers are cleansed. By His Cross that the dead are raised with Him to new life.
It is the Gospel of the Cross that is preached to you in the wilderness, in your poverty and weakness. And it is by that Gospel of the Cross — especially by your death with Christ in the waters of your Holy Baptism — that you are born again to a new and living hope in the Kingdom of God.
This way and means of the Cross is a paradox and contradiction. But do not take offense. It appears to offer nothing, to do and accomplish nothing. It promises life and health and every blessing, but you remain hungry and hurting, imprisoned or worse, whether in mind, body or other circumstance.
The preacher of the Gospel of the Cross, himself, comes to you in the frailty and weakness of mortal flesh like your own, as feeble and fallible as you are. What good are such prophets and apostles of the Cross, if they too are sick or in prison, hungry or thirsty, tired or anxious? How can they help or save you, if they cannot help or save themselves?
Yet, if St. John the Baptist exceeds all the Prophets before him, because he ushers in the Lord Jesus Christ — the Son of God in the flesh, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world — your own pastor surpasses St. John in the Word that he preaches and the gifts that he gives to you from the Cross of Christ. Here is the Kingdom of Heaven, not only at hand, but fully accomplished.
That is the Word that is preached to you — the Gospel — the forgiveness of all your sins! A Word of the Cross: a Word of contradiction, but for all of that a Word of Christ, which heals and gives life.
Now, for a little while, it may seem as though this Word does nothing, as though it were a lie. Yet, you cannot live without this Word of Christ — and by it you do in fact live forever. Go out to hear that Word, therefore, and do not seek any other sort of help or hope. If you cannot go out to hear it, then ask that it be brought to you and spoken to you, wherever you may be confined. Do not suppose that you have already heard it and know it well enough. You need to be hearing it, and to keep on hearing it, for as long as you shall live.
You need to hear this Word of Christ, for faith comes and remains only by this hearing of the Gospel. You need to hear it, also, so that you have the Word of Christ to speak to your neighbor (including your pastor). For it is by this Word of Christ that you are patient with the Lord and with your neighbor: Patient with your Lord in faith, and patient with your neighbor in love; so that, instead of grumbling and complaining, you forgive and you encourage; instead of envy and jealousy, bitterness and resentment, you have mercy and compassion (even for those who hurt you).
You live in love toward your neighbor, because you live in the true freedom of the Gospel. Your body may be imprisoned by any number of restrictions, but you are free indeed in Christ. Herod may even put you to death, or Pilate may crucify and bury you, but you shall live.
Be patient. The Lord is coming for you. He is always coming to you, always preaching His Gospel to you. Even now He is standing at the door. In His Word to you, He is with you, now and always. His preaching of the Gospel is not empty or useless. His Word is true, as He Himself is true. And He is for you. He has not forgotten you; He will not forget you. He remembers you and helps you.
Consider the outcome of His dealings with you. You already know it in His own Resurrection from the dead. Sharing His Cross, you share His Life! In this you rejoice, as He rejoices over you in love. In the Name + of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
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