Christian Funeral for Scott Daniel Hamerlinck

(Audio)

John 14:1-6; 1 Corinthians 15:51-57; Isaiah 61:1-3, 10; Psalm 23

 

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

Scott Hamerlinck was a man of many interests, a multitude of skills, and intense drive and passion. He did everything at once, all the time, with intentionality, intensity, and dedication.

Henry David Thoreau wrote that most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them. That was not Scott. Scott lived brightly. He embraced life, people, experiences, and the gifts God had given him.

Scott brought that intensity to everything he did and everyone with whom he interacted: to his hobbies, his family, his work, his military service, his music, and his faith. Hunting required stillness, silence, focus, and a connection with nature. Riding his motorcycle required command, handling, and speed. Scott loved life, learning, experiencing, and serving.

Life is a gift from God: creation, nature, music, family, friends. These gifts are meant to be appreciated, used, and enjoyed, not put on a shelf for some later time. Today is the gift of life and love. Do not put off until tomorrow what you have today.

Scott brought that same intensity and drive to his battle with cancer, overcoming it with confidence, renewed determination, and not a small amount of humor. He brought it to helping others, his neighbors, his friends, and his church. Got a new ceiling fan? There was Scott at your door with his tools ready to help you install it!

For Scott, a stranger was just a best friend he hadn’t met yet. He made friends easily and with everyone. Amanda said it was best to go places with others because Scott was always off talking to someone new. He had an infectious, gregarious, and hilarious personality that drew people to him. It is no surprise that his neighbors became best friends. They would get together to play cards, make music, and enjoy a beer. And the breakfast block parties were legendary, with the Blackstones rolled out and eggs, bacon, and pancakes enjoyed by all.

Music was also a huge part of Scott’s life and personality. He was a great singer and rhythm guitarist, and he played in many different bands. Music is a powerful gift of God for bringing people together, and Scott used it to bring together family and friends and to build camaraderie and community. Scott and Amanda performed here at St. John one Christmas in a quartet with Drew and Laurie Rogers. And sharing that musical bond with his son Julian was one of Scott’s greatest joys.

Scott was not perfect. His intensity, drive, and high expectations could sometimes be difficult for those closest to him. He loved his family deeply and wanted the very best for them. He pushed them as hard as he pushed himself and expected much from them. He could be critical at times, not out of cruelty or meanness, but out of passion, love, and a desire for them to do their best and be their best.

And while Scott could drive himself to the point of recklessness, he was very conservative and protective of those he loved. He was known to many as “The Safety Nazi,” even though he had already used up eight and a half of his nine lives.

Scott was passionate about his faith, too. He wanted his family in church. He wanted them to have a Christian upbringing. He regularly read and listened to the Scriptures and Christian podcasts. He cared about the spiritual health and welfare of his family, and he believed in volunteering and giving back.

Amanda, Hannah, Julian, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ: we grieve today. Of course we do. Death is not natural. We were not created to die, but to live with God forever. There is no human perspective from which we can understand Scott’s death without shock, horror, bitter loss, grief, and sorrow. By all human reckoning, Scott died much, much too soon.

But our Lord Jesus says, “Let not your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. I have gone there to prepare a place for you. And I will come again, and I will take you to myself, that where I am, you will be also.” That is why Jesus came. That is why God became man.

Jesus came into this broken and dying world to restore what sin had destroyed: our relationship with our God and Creator, and the holiness, righteousness, and life that we were created to have. In His hometown synagogue, Jesus read from the prophet Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted... to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor... to comfort all who mourn.” Then Jesus rolled up the scroll and said, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

It was fulfilled in Jesus because He came to do precisely what Isaiah proclaimed. He came to bind up the brokenhearted. He came to comfort those who mourn. He came to bear our sin and suffer our death. It took nothing less than the death of Jesus, the death of God Himself, to accomplish it. But death could not hold Him. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! And because He lives, we shall live also.

Scott’s hope was not in the intensity with which he lived. It was not in his good works, his service, his accomplishments, his personality, or his strength. His hope was in Jesus Christ. Scott was baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection. His sins are forgiven in Jesus’ blood. His trust for forgiveness and salvation was not in himself but in Jesus.

And so we have a sure and certain hope. Death has been swallowed up in victory. “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. “But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

We grieve, but we do not grieve without hope. We commend our brother Scott to the Lord, trusting His promise that those who die in Christ live with Him even now, and that on the day of Jesus’ return, Scott’s body will be raised from the dead. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable.

That is the Christian hope: not merely that Scott will be remembered, not merely that his influence will continue in the lives of those who loved him, but that Jesus Christ will raise Scott from the dead. And on that day, all who trust in Christ will join him in paradise, in the New Eden, the New Jerusalem, where tears and sorrow, pain, suffering, and death are no more. There will be life, real life, abundant life, eternal life.

Scott lived intensely. He lived passionately. He embraced the gifts God gave him and the people God placed in his life. But the life Christ gives is greater still. The candle of Scott’s earthly life may have burned brightly and far too briefly. But the life Christ gives in the resurrection will never burn out.

So we grieve. We mourn. We feel the terrible absence of a husband, a father, a friend, a neighbor, a brother in Christ. But we grieve with hope. For Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. And because Christ lives, Scott will live. And because Christ lives, all who belong to Him will live also.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 14)

(Audio)

Luke 17:11-19; Galatians 5:16-24; Proverbs 4:10-23

 

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

“What must I do to inherit eternal life?” That was the question a lawyer asked Jesus in last Sunday’s Gospel. The lawyer wanted a quick fix to his problem, just like you. He didn’t want some open-ended, ongoing regimen or discipline for the rest of his life. He wanted something he could do, check off his list, and then get on with his life, just like you.

Because of this, many Christians think that once they’re baptized, that’s it. There’s nothing more to do. They’re in like flint. Others rationalize a “once saved, always saved” doctrine in which, once they’ve “given their heart to Jesus,” He’ll never let them fall away. Then they go on their merry way, placing their trust in “eternal security” rather than in a lifelong, ongoing relationship with Jesus.

And so, there were ten lepers who pleaded with Jesus, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” And Jesus had mercy on them. He told them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.

They each got what they wanted. They got a quick fix and were healed. All they had to do was show themselves to the priests. Check! Done! Fini! Then they were off on their merry way, having nary a thought about Jesus, save one.

One leper turned back. He returned to Jesus to give thanks. This thankful leper knew that Jesus had done something precious and miraculous for him. He knew that Jesus didn’t have to do it, but that it was an act of mercy, just as he and the others had pleaded. But the thankful leper did more than thank Jesus. He fell down at Jesus’ feet and worshipped Him. And to place the thankful leper in even starker contrast to the others, St. Luke tells us that he was not a Jew like the others, but a Samaritan.

The thankful Samaritan leper was a changed man. No longer was he a leper, and no longer was he a foreigner. He had been restored to life, to family, to community, and to fellowship. More importantly, he had returned to the source of his healing and life: Jesus.

For no one has an encounter with the Lord Jesus and walks away unchanged. You either receive Him in faith to your great blessing, or you reject Him in unbelief to your judgment and condemnation. There is no gray area, no fence-straddling, and no lukewarm faith when it comes to Jesus. He who is not with Him is against Him, and he who does not gather with Him scatters.

You see, the Christian faith and life is not a “one and done” sort of thing. It is an ongoing relationship with Jesus and with His body, the Church. It is a walking together in Jesus, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Your Holy Baptism was not merely a deed; it was a birth. You were born again of water and the Spirit to a new life that will never die. And your new life must be fed and nourished, protected and kept in Jesus and in His body, the Church.

If God will be your Father, then the Church, the Bride of Christ, must be your mother. For in the Church is found the womb of the font from which you were born, the breasts of the Word and Supper from which you are fed and nourished, and the Holy Spirit of God working through these means, joining you together as a family of faith in koinonia, in fellowship, with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and with one another.

So where does your “eternal security” lie? It lies in koinonia, in fellowship with Jesus and with His Bride, the Church. To boast in your salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ while neglecting His Church, Confession and Absolution, His Word, and His Supper is, at the very least, to cut yourself off from the spiritual food and life and divine protection your faith and new spiritual life require in order to survive.

And if prolonged, that neglect of koinonia and fellowship with Jesus and His body, the Church, will lead to apathy and disdain, not only for the Holy Things, but also for the Holy One Himself. And then there will be no hope for you. The thankful Samaritan leper understood this. So he returned to the source of his healing, his life, and his salvation. He gave thanks, and he worshipped Jesus.

Leprosy was a disease of the flesh that made you unclean and cut you off from koinonia, from fellowship with God and the temple, the family of faith, the Church. You and I and all people suffer from a spiritual leprosy of the flesh: sin and sinful rebellion, which cuts us off from koinonia with God and with one another. But merciful Jesus has washed you clean in His holy, innocent, shed blood. You have been born again of water and the Spirit to a new life that cannot die.

Will you live that life with Jesus, the giver and source of your new life? Or will you go your own way, the way of your flesh and the world, which leads only to life apart from koinonia, fellowship, with God and His Church? It is in this regard that St. Paul exhorts you today: “Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.” For “the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh.”

Just as the leprous man could not free himself from the effects of his diseased flesh, so you cannot free yourself from the temptations and weakness of your sinful and rebellious flesh. While you have been cleansed by the blood of Jesus in Holy Baptism, your sinful flesh remains. It cannot be reformed or rehabilitated. It must die and be raised anew. And the only way you will resist the corruption of the flesh is by remaining in the Way, the Truth, and the Life of Jesus, in koinonia with Him and with His body, the Church.

St. Paul warns you to beware of the sins of the flesh: “sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these,” with the warning that “those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.” This means that you cannot willfully pursue and practice such things and presume that you will be saved simply because you are baptized or receive the Sacraments every now and then. Yes, by confessing your sins and being absolved, and by receiving the Sacraments faithfully and regularly, Jesus’ blood cleanses you from all sin. But to willfully pursue and practice the sins of the flesh is to break koinonia with Jesus and His Church. It is to despise the Lord and His grace and mercy and to go your own way, the way of sin and death apart from God.

In contrast, St. Paul proclaims, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” “And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” You see, there’s no going back. The way of the forgiven is the way of the Spirit. The way of the cleansed leper is the way of Jesus, the way of humility, peace, and thanksgiving. The way of forgiveness is not a quick fix or a “one-and-done,” “once saved, always saved” proposition. It is a new life and a new way of living. It is a life lived in and upon Jesus Christ and His gifts. It is a life that is first and foremost receiving, then giving thanks, and then giving to others as you have received.

Now rinse and repeat, every day, every Lord’s Day, and every Feast and Festival day for the rest of your earthly life, with your brothers and sisters in Christ, your new family of faith, enjoying koinonia, fellowship, in the Word and water, body and blood of Jesus, in His body and Bride, the Church. For just as you were born into a family and a community, having a father and mother, grandparents, siblings, uncles, aunts, and cousins, so you were born again into a family, a community, a body, and a koinonia, a fellowship.

You are not an island, and you are not alone. You are a member of the body of Christ, the Church, and you draw your life in her from Christ through Word and Sacrament. Your life is His life lived in and through you. Apart from Him you cannot live. But with Christ, in Christ, and through Christ, you are alive with a life that cannot die.

So come. Eat and be strengthened. Come. Drink and be forgiven. Come, with your brothers and sisters, in holy koinonia with Jesus, and be His holy, spotless, sinless, and beloved Bride. Receive and believe. Give thanks and live, not as you once lived, but live in Christ, in humility and service to your neighbor, bearing the fruits of His life in your life to the glory of God.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 13)

(Audio)

Luke 10:23-37; Galatians 3:15-22; 2 Chronicles 28:8-15

 

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

There are many ways to understand and speak about sin. Sin can be defined as disobedience or rebellion, the breaking of moral rules, “missing the mark,” or simply falling short of God’s commands and expectations. However, there is another way to understand sin that, I believe, gets straight to the heart of the matter: Sin is a failure of love. We love the wrong things, or we love the right things in the wrong way. Either way, sin is a failure of love.

This gets straight to the heart of the First Commandment: “You shall have no other gods.” Luther explains it in the Small Catechism: “You shall fear, love, and trust in God above all things.” Even Luther’s use of fear and trust directs us toward love, the fulfilling of the Law. St. John writes, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” And St. Paul writes, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

That you love, what you love, and how you love is directly connected to what you believe about God, what you think about God, and whether you trust in God above all things. And that is at the heart of Jesus’ teaching in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. What you fear, love, and trust will either permit or prohibit you from loving your neighbor. Fear, love, and trust in God above all things frees you to love in any and all situations and any and all of your neighbors, without fear.

Jesus had just sent out the seventy-two to proclaim peace and that the kingdom of God was near. He sent them with this promise: “The one who hears you hears Me, and the one who rejects you rejects Me, and the one who rejects Me rejects Him who sent Me.” They returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in Your name!” Jesus acknowledged this, but directed their joy elsewhere: “Do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

Then Jesus prayed, “I thank You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children.” Turning to His disciples, He said, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.”

What was it that Jesus’ disciples could see that the prophets and kings of old did not? They saw Jesus, the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets and the covenant promises of God. More to the point, they saw that God was not their enemy. They could fear Him, not as a cruel master, but as a loving Father. They were not slaves to legalism, but were free to live in the same love they had freely received from God.

Immediately, a lawyer stood up to put Jesus to the test. “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” The question itself revealed the lawyer’s misunderstanding. You cannot do anything to merit an inheritance. An inheritance is received freely because of your relationship with the one who gives it. But the lawyer was not interested in a relationship with God. He wanted to merit eternal life by his works. He did not fear, love, and trust in God above all things; he feared, loved, and trusted in himself and his works.

So Jesus answered the lawyer’s Law question with a Law answer: “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” The lawyer answered correctly: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus said, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” But the lawyer was not satisfied. Jesus had pricked his conscience. He knew that he did not properly love God or his neighbor, and Jesus’ command exposed the fact that He knew it too.

The lawyer’s sin was a failure of love. He did not love God above all things. He loved himself and trusted in his works. He despised God’s Law and saw God as a cruel master instead of a loving Father. And because he did not love God, he could not love his neighbor. So, seeking to justify himself, he asked, “And who is my neighbor?” He was looking for a loophole, a way around the Law’s demands so that he could justify himself. It is like an employee doing only the minimal duties his job requires, doing them spitefully and with loathing for both his vocation and his employer. Because he did not love God, the lawyer could not love his fellow man.

So Jesus answered with the Parable of the Good Samaritan. A man was attacked by robbers, stripped, beaten, and left for dead. A priest passed by. Then a Levite passed by. Neither helped him. But a Samaritan came upon him, had compassion on him, bound his wounds, poured on oil and wine, placed him on his own animal, carried him to an inn, and paid for his care. Jesus asked, “Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” The lawyer could only answer, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said, “You go, and do likewise.”

The fact that Jesus made the Samaritan the hero of this parable was not lost on the lawyer. Jews regarded Samaritans as religiously and ethnically corrupted, outside the covenant people. And yet this Samaritan showed mercy while Israel’s most respected religious leaders passed by. Why? Because the Samaritan understood something the priest, the Levite, and the lawyer did not. He knew God not as a cruel master demanding meritorious works, but as a loving, gracious, and merciful Father. He had received God’s mercy and therefore was free to show mercy.

This is precisely what St. Paul teaches in Galatians. The Law was given 430 years after the covenant God made with Abraham. The Law did not annul that covenant. God’s promise came first. The covenant with Abraham was a covenant of grace. The Law reveals sin. It exposes our failure to love God and neighbor. It cannot give us the inheritance. But the promise gives what the Law cannot: Christ. You are saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, the Word of God made flesh, not by your works of obedience under the Law. And as you have freely received, so you freely give.

Jesus’ command, “You go, and do likewise,” is not a command by which you earn eternal life. It is the exhortation and empowerment of the Gospel. Just as Jesus sent the seventy-two equipped only with His Word, so He sends you to love your neighbor with His love. How you hear those words depends upon how you see God. Do you see Him as a cruel master and tyrant, or as your loving Father? Jesus would have you see Him as the disciples and the Samaritan did: “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!”

What must you do to inherit eternal life? You don’t have to do anything. But you do have to be something: You have to be a child of God, a recipient of His love, and a bearer of His love. You are His child, born again of water and the Spirit in Holy Baptism. You are the recipient of His love, poured out for you in Jesus’ holy, innocent blood for the forgiveness of your sins. And you are a bearer of His love when you love others as He has loved you. Such love is not a work by which you earn salvation. It is a fruit, Jesus’ fruit, and therefore it is pleasing to the Father.

And when you fear, love, and trust in God above all things, you need not fear God and His Law as a cruel master. Instead, you receive Him as the loving Father who reaches down to you in your death, heals and binds your wounds inflicted by sin and Satan, and carries you to this inn, this hospital, the Church. He has carried you here upon the burdens of His Son, Jesus, who has paid all that was necessary to heal you, care for you, and preserve you until He returns to take you to His Father’s house in heaven.

So come. Eat and drink His saving love. Receive His mercy. And, having freely received, freely give. Fear, love, and trust in God above all things, that you may love your neighbor as yourself, and live.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Christian Funeral for Helen Elaine Platte

(Audio)

John 14:1-6; John 3:16-18; Psalm 23

 

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

David, Paul, Ann, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, grace, mercy, and peace be unto you from God our Father and from Jesus Christ our Lord.

The church should be packed today, not only because we commend to the Lord a dear mother, grandmother, friend, and sister in Christ, Helen, but because we are saying farewell to a significant part of the living memory and history of this community. Together, Helen and Harlan represented just shy of a century of Waverly life, memory, and history. Both were born, baptized, and confirmed in Waverly. They grew up here, raised their family here, and made their home here for most of their lives. They could tell you who lived where, who owned what business, what used to be in that building, and so much more. It is hard to overstate how rare it is becoming for someone to live nearly their entire life in the same community, or how great a loss their death is to that community.

The church should be packed today, but it’s not. The reason it’s not is because, well, Helen has actually outlived many people who would have come. That’s another reality when you have lived just shy of a century. Ninety-eight years is a long life by any measure, and I don’t think I’m betraying any secret to say that Helen felt it and was ready to go, especially since her beloved Harlan died in January. They were married for 76 years, just one month short of 77.

As a pastor, I’ve been blessed to minister to several of the Lord’s children who have lived to be a hundred or more. Without exception, every single one of them asked the same question: “Why won’t the Lord take me home?” This is not some morbid death wish, but the plaintive cry of a person who knows they are God’s child and longs to be with Him. That was most certainly Helen’s desire these past several months.

When you live into your late ‘90s, chances are you have outlived your spouse, siblings, friends, and many of your closest relatives. And when your body can no longer do the things it once did, there can be a sense of helplessness and purposelessness that is, quite simply, not what the Lord intended for us. “Why, Lord?” “When, Lord?” These are not necessarily questions of doubt, but the longing of a Christian for Sabbath rest and communion with Jesus.

The Lord blessed Helen with a long, rich, and full life, and He made her a rich blessing to many. She was a wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. She was an exceptional seamstress and later a master quilter. She served her church through the Dorcas Society. She worked for many years at Rohlf Memorial Clinic and, after retirement, she and Harlan enjoyed twenty-five years spending part of each year in Clearwater, Florida.

And then there were the things that made Helen, well, Helen. Her lemon meringue and rhubarb pies. Her German Pfeffernüsse cookies at Christmas. Bridge with her friends. Ceramics she made and gave away. Her love of reading, right up until two weeks before she died. And, of course, attending David and Paul’s and the grandkid’s athletic events and watching college football and basketball, never afraid to offer free advice to the coaches and referees from her chair in the living room.

These are the things we remember today. The things that make us smile. The things that make us laugh. The things that make us miss her. And we should remember them. They are gifts from God, and they are part of the life He gave her.

But today we remember something even more important: Helen belonged to Jesus. The Twenty-Third Psalm says, “The Lord is my shepherd.” The Lord was Helen’s Shepherd throughout her long life, and He remains her Shepherd even now. She walked through the valley of the shadow of death, but she did not walk there alone. Her Shepherd was with her.

And why can we have such confidence? Because Jesus tells us in the Gospel appointed for today: “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” This is the heart of the Christian faith. Our hope is not that Helen lived a long and good life. Our hope is not that she was a good person. Our hope is not even found in the wonderful memories we have of her. Our hope is Jesus Christ.

He died for Helen’s sins. He died for your sins. He rose from the dead. And because He lives, death does not have the final word. Jesus says, “I go to prepare a place for you.” And then He gives us this promise: “I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.” That is the promise upon which Helen lived and died. And that is the promise upon which we stand today.

Helen is not simply gone. She has been taken home to be with her Lord, awaiting the day when Jesus will come again and raise her body from the grave. The separation caused by death will be ended, and she will live with her Lord in the fullness of resurrection life.

And so we grieve. Of course we grieve. We grieve because we love Helen. We grieve because death is an enemy. We grieve because we miss her. But we do not grieve as those who have no hope. The Lord was Helen’s Shepherd. He led her through a long and blessed life. He led her through the valley. And He has now brought her home.

So, dear family and friends, give thanks to God for Helen. Remember her with joy. Mourn her death honestly. But above all, cling to the same Jesus in whom Helen trusted. Hear His Word. Receive His forgiveness. Come to His Table. And when your own earthly pilgrimage is finished, trust that the Good Shepherd who has carried His people through every valley will carry you home as well. For Jesus has promised, “I will come again and will take you to Myself.” “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” And forever is precisely what Jesus has promised.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Twelfth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 12)

(Audio)

Mark 7:31-37; 2 Corinthians 3:4-11; Isaiah 29:17-24

 

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

Knowledge of the Scriptures cannot save you. Only faith can do that. So, whether you seek wisdom like the Greeks, or signs from God like the Jews, these things do not and cannot save you. Only faith can do that. You are saved by God’s grace alone, through faith alone, in God’s Son, Jesus Christ alone.

Therefore, hear the Word of God. Read it. Study it. Memorize it. Treasure it. Yes! To be sure! But do not imagine that your knowledge of Bible history, your familiarity with the great stories of the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, or your memorization of countless verses can save you. Knowledge is good, but knowledge is not faith. Only faith saves.

Our First Parents succumbed to the temptation to become wise in a worldly and fleshly way. The wisdom they thought they were gaining was really a lie. They could only attain that wisdom by rebelling against and rejecting the true wisdom of God, His Law and His Word. They exchanged God’s Truth for a lie because they desired to be like God. They desired to be gods themselves. And so do you.

God did not make Adam and Eve covetous, jealous, discontent, and rebellious. But He gave them the freedom to rebel against Him, and they did. They chose according to their own will rather than His will. And you are their rebellious children. You carry their corruption in your own body. Your will is enslaved by sin. You are spiritually deaf, dumb, and blind. Who will save you from this body of death? Who will open your eyes? Who will open your ears? Who will release your tongue?

“O LORD, open Thou my lips, and my mouth will show forth Thy praise.” Salvation comes to you from outside of you. “Behold, your King is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is He.” He turns a desert into a fruitful field. He opens the ears of the deaf and the eyes of the blind. He opens the mouths and loosens the tongues of those who cannot speak. And He says to those with anxious hearts, “Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.”

Did you hear that? He did not merely say, “A Savior will come.” He did not even merely say, “The Messiah will come.” He said, “your God will come.” Your God. Your King. He will come, and He will save you. In Jesus, Emmanuel, which means “God with us,” God has visited His people to redeem them and save them. Jesus is God in the flesh, come to save His people. He is your Savior, your King, and your God. And this is His salvific, kingly, and divine work: to save you from sin, from death, and from Satan.

And so the crowd brings to Jesus a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment. They bring to their King one of His subjects who is captive to the effects of sin, that Jesus might save him, release him, and heal him. They bring the man to Jesus. And Jesus takes him aside from the crowd. He puts His fingers into the man’s ears. He takes His spittle and touches the man’s tongue. He looks up to heaven, sighs, and says, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened!” And the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.

This is not merely a story about a man who once had trouble hearing and speaking. This is a picture of what Jesus has come to do for you. Just as the Word of God was spoken into the nothingness before creation and all things came to be; just as the Word of God called Lazarus out of death and into life; just as the Word of God was spoken from the cross, “It is finished,” and it truly was; just as the Word of God was spoken to this deaf and mute man and his ears were opened and his tongue was loosed, so too is the Word of God spoken over the re-creative waters of Holy Baptism. And a spiritual nothing, a spiritual Lazarus, a spiritually deaf and mute man, woman, or child, is brought out of nothingness, raised to life out of death, given ears to hear and a tongue to confess, thank, praise, and serve. For God has come to save His people.

In Jesus, God has visited His people to save them. The King has come, and His reign has begun. And where is that reign seen and confessed? In the proclamation of His Word and in the forgiveness of sinners through Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, and the Holy Supper of His very body and blood.

Notice something important in this Gospel. Jesus put His fingers into the man’s ears. He spat and touched the man’s tongue. But these actions and signs, by themselves, did not release the man. It was Jesus’ Word. “Ephphatha,” “Be opened!” It was the performative and creative Word of God, spoken with His actions, that opened the man’s ears and loosed his tongue. And it is still that performative and creative Word, in, with, and under the elements and actions of the Blessed Sacraments, that creates in you a clean heart, forgives your sin, and strengthens and equips you for every good work.

The Word of God is like no other word. God’s Word is powerful. It is performative. It is creative. It has the power to bring into being what it says. If God’s Word says that you are forgiven, then you are forgiven. If God’s Word says that this bread is His body and this wine is His blood, shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins, then that is precisely what they are. And if God’s Word says that He will never leave you nor forsake you, and that nothing can separate you from His love in Christ Jesus, then you can bet your life and your soul that He will keep His promise.

Therefore, guard and keep this Word. Make every effort to keep it pure, to teach it in truth and purity, whole and undefiled, for it is powerful for life unto salvation. And listen attentively to this Word. Ponder it in your heart and mind as the Holy Spirit works through it to open your ears, your hearts, and your minds. For through this Word He strengthens your faith, gives you courage to resist Satan’s temptations, keeps you firm in the faith, and gives you comfort when you walk in darkness.

The Word of the LORD is a lamp unto your feet and a light unto your path. And because God made you spirit and flesh, body and soul, His Word became flesh and dwelt among us as one of us, as our brother. Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. He is the eternal Word in human flesh, God and man in one person, come to be your King, your Savior, and your God.

And just as He used His fingers and spittle together with His Word to heal the deaf and mute man, so He ministers to you, forgives you, and heals you through Spirit and Word and through created things: water, bread, and wine. Do not despise the lowliness of these means any more than you could despise the human flesh and blood that the Word of God has taken up for your salvation. Rather, give thanks to the LORD your God who comes to you because you could not come to Him.

Behold, your God comes. He comes to open your ears to hear His Word, your lips to confess His name, and your heart to trust in Him. He comes to forgive you. He comes to raise you from death to life. He comes to save you.

Your King has come. Your God is with you. Let us receive Him and give thanks.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Christian Funeral for Richard William Prensner

(Audio)

John 5:24-30; 2 Thessalonians 2:13-17; Isaiah 43:1-3a, 25

 

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

What is the meaning of life? There are many answers to that question, as you well know, and few of them are very satisfying. If you are a Christian, however, redeemed in the blood of Jesus Christ and baptized into Him, the answer is actually very simple, exceedingly clear, and profoundly satisfying: We belong to the Lord.

“Trust in the LORD, and do good. Dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD. Trust in Him, and He will act.” Those words from Psalm 37 were very meaningful to Richard throughout his rich, blessed, and most meaningful Christian life.

“This is the day that the LORD has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Richard could often be heard saying those words out loud in the kitchen in the morning as he made his coffee or performed some little chore. This wasn’t just some random earworm. It was his confession of faith: Each day is the LORD’s. I am the LORD’s. What I do with what He has given me is the LORD’s. Whether I have or have not, whether I succeed or fail, I am the LORD’s. This is His day, the day He has given me, and I will rejoice in it. Richard began, faced, and lived each day in that confession, comfort, and hope. And he encouraged those he loved to do the same.

Richard was raised in the Reformed Church, but he was inspired and convicted by the sermons and writings of Martin Luther and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Though Richard and Sherry lived “over the hill” in Connecticut and attended their own Congregational Church there, they began attending the Lutheran parish I served in New York on Saturday nights. In 2016, I was blessed to receive them both as members of that little Lutheran parish through the rite of Confirmation. Richard’s confirmation verse was Romans 12:2: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

His confirmation certificate, with that verse, hung in Richard’s office next to his desk. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” Richard embraced those words. He understood that we are in the world, but we are not of the world. And he understood that God works through His people, through their words and deeds and vocations, often in ways that are subtle, hidden, and unseen.

God’s Word was part of Richard’s daily routine. His well-worn Bible was full of underlining, highlighting, and dates scribbled next to verses when specific prayers were answered. God used that Word to guide him through difficult situations and challenges in a God-honoring way. His coworkers recognized his Christian faith in his words and deeds. A former pastor once showed Richard’s Bible as an example of a man who loved the Word of God. Richard came home that night and said, “I don’t know how he knew I was a Christian; I never talked to him about it.” But that is how God works. The LORD works through His people and their vocations to reach others.

And the LORD touched many lives through Richard: coworkers, soldiers, nurses and caregivers, and so many others. When Richard returned to Capitol Rehabilitation, there was a flurry of activity as news spread from department to department. They were all so happy he was back. Staff members came and told the family how Richard had given them new insights that had changed their perspective and their lives.

Richard’s greatest desire was that those he loved would know Christ and experience the hope that sustained him throughout his life. And that is important for us to hear today. Because Richard’s hope was not ultimately in Richard. His hope was in Christ.

Our Lord Jesus says in the Gospel according to St. John, “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears My Word and believes Him who sent Me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.” Notice what Jesus says: has passed from death to life. Not might pass. Not hopes to pass. Not perhaps will pass. Has passed. That is the promise of Christ to those who hear His Word and believe in Him. And then Jesus goes on to speak of something even greater: “The hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live.”

This is our hope today. Richard’s body has died. We do not pretend otherwise. Death is real. Sin is real. The brokenness of this world is real. And we grieve because we love Richard. But death does not have the final word. Jesus does. And Jesus says that the dead will hear His voice. The same Lord Jesus who called Lazarus from the tomb will call Richard from his grave. The same Lord Jesus who Himself went into death and rose bodily from the dead will raise Richard bodily from the dead. Because Christ is risen, those who belong to Christ will rise.

That is why Christian hope is not wishful thinking. It is not positive thinking. It is not merely remembering a good man and carrying his memory in our hearts. Christian hope rests upon an empty tomb. Christ died for Richard’s sins. Christ rose for Richard’s justification. Christ claimed Richard as His own in Holy Baptism. Christ sustained Richard through His Word. And Christ will raise Richard on the Last Day.

Richard loved his family so very much. He prayed for you every day in his morning devotions. Jan said, “What an unbelievable gift to be prayed over daily.” He was your greatest champion. He celebrated your accomplishments, encouraged your dreams, and never stopped cheering for you. He believed in you, often long before you believed in yourselves.

Every day was a gift and a reason to celebrate. His favorite saying was, “Make every occasion a great occasion!” It wasn’t merely a phrase. It was a way of life. Richard made people feel special, welcomed, and deeply loved. And they truly were.

As Richard’s days were growing shorter, he became even more intentional with God’s Word and in showing his love to his family. He wanted you to know how very much he loved you, and how very much God loves you. He would give you his famous bear hug and bless you with God’s Word: “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.”

One of the final Scripture passages Richard devoted himself to memorizing was from 2 Thessalonians: “Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.”

That is a fitting Word for us today. Eternal comfort. Good hope. Grace. Not because Richard was perfect. Not because we are perfect. But because Christ is faithful. Richard knew that. He knew that we have a living God who never changes, who guides us through the changes of this life, who gives peace to our hearts, and who teaches us to look toward tomorrow with confidence. He wrote, “God gives us peace today and allows us to smile at tomorrow.”

And now, in Christ, Richard has been given something far greater than tomorrow. He has been given the resurrection. The day is coming when the voice of Jesus will sound again. The dead will hear. The graves will open. And Richard’s risen and glorified body will stand again, not because death was not real, but because Jesus Christ has conquered death.

So we grieve today. Of course we do. But we do not grieve as those who have no hope. We give thanks to God for Richard’s life, for his love, for his prayers, for his witness, for the countless ways God worked through him. But above all, we give thanks for Jesus Christ, who loved Richard, redeemed Richard, kept Richard, and now holds him in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection.

The last song Richard sang on this earth was the Doxology with his granddaughter Sarah and her children: “Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.” That is where we end today. Not with death. Not with despair. Not even with memory. But with praise. Because all blessings do indeed flow from God the Father, through His Son Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. And the greatest blessing of all is this: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. And on that day, Richard will hear the voice of his Savior. And he will live.

Until that day, may the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish you in every good work and word. And may He grant us all, with Richard, the joy of that great and glorious day when we will stand together in the presence of our risen Lord and say with everlasting joy:

“Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.” [Sing!]

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Eleventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 11)

(Audio)

Luke 18:9-14; 1 Corinthians 15:1-10; Genesis 4:1-15 

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

It wasn’t the sacrifice that was the problem. “Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a worker of the ground.” “In the course of time Cain brought to the LORD an offering of the fruit of the ground, and Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions.” Both sacrifices were appropriate. Yet “the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard.” It wasn’t the sacrifice that was the problem. The problem was God’s regard.

Pastor, what on earth do you mean? Let me explain. The LORD had no need of a sacrifice. In fact, according to what is recorded in the first four chapters of Genesis, God had not yet commanded such a sacrifice. That would come later. There is something deeper going on here, something that teaches us about righteousness, sin, humility, contrition, repentance, mercy, grace, forgiveness, and, most of all, fear, love, and trust in the LORD.

When the Bible says that the LORD regarded someone or something, it means that God noticed, looked upon, paid close attention to, and showed active care, favor, or judgment toward them. It is not merely a passive glance. God turns His attention toward someone with a purpose. Thus, Mary confesses in the Magnificat, “My soul magnifies the Lord, ... for He has regarded the lowliness of His handmaiden.” Centuries earlier, Hannah prayed, “O LORD of hosts, if you will indeed regard the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life.”

Likewise, Jesus regarded Peter after Peter denied Him for the third time. Jesus looked upon Peter, and Peter went out and wept bitterly. The LORD’s regard brought Peter to contrition and repentance. The LORD’s regard is the LORD’s regard. He does not regard a person because of who they are, what they offer, or what they have done. His regard is His gracious will alone.

The LORD does not tell us why He regarded Abel’s sacrifice but not Cain’s. It was His will. And yet the preacher to the Hebrews gives us this insight: “By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts.” Abel offered his sacrifice by faith. And what is faith? Faith is not a work. It is not knowledge, an act of reason, or an act of the will by which we make ourselves acceptable to God. Faith is trust. It is trust in the LORD and in His promises. “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

All that we can say about Cain is that the LORD did not regard his sacrifice. I do not believe it is right to conclude that Cain had no faith. That is not really the point. The point is that the LORD’s regard is His to give or withhold, and either are good and just. When Cain became angry and his face fell, the LORD warned him: “If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door.” Cain’s problem was not that God had failed him. Cain’s problem was what he did with God’s judgment. Better to have the faith of Job, who in the midst of suffering and sorrow confessed, “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” To become resentful, angry, and jealous because God has not regarded us as we think He ought to be regarded is not the fruit of faith. It is the fruit of sin and unbelief.

And then Jesus gives us two more men. A Pharisee and a tax collector. Both went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee went straight to the front and prayed with his head and hands lifted high: “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.” And here is the uncomfortable part: the Pharisee was telling the truth. He really did those things. He fasted. He tithed. He was, outwardly, a righteous man. But his righteousness was in himself. And because his righteousness was in himself, he had no need of the righteousness that comes from God. He could not receive imputed righteousness because he believed he already possessed righteousness of his own. And worse, because he did not love the LORD, he did not love his neighbor. He treated the tax collector with contempt.

We saw the same thing in Cain. His anger toward God became hatred and contempt for his brother, and finally murder. The tax collector, however, stood far off. He would not even lift his eyes toward heaven. He simply prayed, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” That is faith. He was humble. He was contrite. He was repentant. And he trusted that God was merciful, good, loving, and forgiving. He trusted that whatever God did would be just. And Jesus says that this man, not the Pharisee, went home justified. “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

St. Paul teaches the same thing to the Corinthians by using himself as an example. Paul proclaims the Gospel of Jesus Christ: His death, His burial, His resurrection, His appearances, and His ascension. And Paul confesses that this Gospel was given to him. He was not one of the Twelve. He had been a persecutor of Jesus and of those who trusted in Him. So, Paul considers himself unworthy. He calls himself the least of the apostles. But he is an apostle. How? “By the grace of God, I am what I am.” Paul does not boast in his works, his prayers, his sacrifices, or his righteousness. He boasts in the grace of God.

And that is where this Gospel leaves us today. Not standing before God with our heads held high, presenting Him with a list of the reasons He ought to regard us. We come like the tax collector. “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And then we come to the altar. We do not come because we have made ourselves worthy. We come precisely because we are not worthy. We come in humility, confessing our sin. We come in contrition, grieving over our sin. We come in repentance, turning from our sin to Christ. And we come in faith, not faith in our faith, not faith in our worthiness, not faith in our works, but faith in Jesus Christ and His promises.

For here, at this altar, the LORD regards you. He looks upon you not according to your righteousness, but according to the righteousness of Christ given to you. Here Christ gives you His true body and His true blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. Here the sinner who says, “Lord, have mercy,” hears the answer of the Gospel. Mercy. Forgiveness. Grace. Christ.

So come with humility, but do not leave in despair. Come in contrition, but leave with forgiveness. Come in repentance, but leave reconciled. Come in faith, hope, and joy, because your hope is not in yourself. Your hope is in Christ. And the LORD who regards the lowly has promised that those who humble themselves will be exalted. “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Tenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity 10)

(Audio)

Luke 19:41-48; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11; Jeremiah 8:4-12

 

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

One of the most poignant ecclesial symbols of Christ’s atoning sacrifice is known as The Pelican in Her Piety. In a time of famine and distress, the female pelican was believed to pierce her own breast and feed her young with her own blood that they might live. It is easy to see why this became a symbol of Christ, who sacrificed His own life and shed His precious blood that we might be forgiven, restored, and have life in Him. St. Thomas Aquinas even used this image in his Communion hymn, Thee We Adore, O Hidden Savior: “Thou, like the pelican to feed her brood, Didst pierce Thyself to give us living food.”

There is an image in St. Luke’s Gospel that is remarkably similar. Jesus compares Himself to a mother hen who gathers her brood beneath her wings. Earlier in Luke, Jesus lamented over Jerusalem: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” They were His people. They were His children. They were His brood. He desired to gather them to Himself, shelter them, feed them, and give them life. But they were not willing. And so, when Jesus came near Jerusalem and saw the city, He wept.

I want you to notice something about what Jesus says: “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” Throughout the Gospels, seeing is often more than simply having functioning eyes. It is seeing with the eyes of faith. It is seeing what is really true and real rather than merely what appears to be true. Many people could see Jesus. They saw the carpenter’s son from Nazareth. They saw an itinerant rabbi. They saw a prophet. Some saw a threat to their power, authority, and wealth. But they did not see who He really was. Others, including some whom the world considered blind or insignificant, saw what others could not see. They saw Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God.

Jerusalem could see Jesus, but Jerusalem could not see Jesus. And that spiritual blindness had consequences. Jesus knew what was coming. He knew that Jerusalem would be surrounded, besieged, and destroyed. He knew that the temple itself would be torn down, “not one stone upon another.” And He knew why: “because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

That is the tragedy. God had visited His people in grace, and they did not recognize Him. Jesus was there. The Word made flesh was there. He was preaching the Word of the Lord and calling them to repentance. He was giving them the very things that make for peace with God. But they refused to believe Him.

Jeremiah had described the same spiritual blindness centuries earlier: “They have healed the wound of my people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.” They thought they were secure because they were Abraham’s children. They trusted in their outward righteousness, their religious observances, their temple, their prayers, and their works. But they did not see that all of these things were pointing to Christ and His sacrifice. They had religion, but they did not have Christ. They had the signs, but they rejected the One to whom the signs pointed. They said, “Peace,” when there was no peace. And this warning is not merely for Jerusalem. It is for us.

The Greek word translated “visitation” is episkopē. It means visitation, oversight, supervision. It is related to the word from which we get bishop and pastor. Your pastor’s visitation is a visitation of grace. The visitation of your bishop is a visitation of grace. And, most especially, when you gather here on the Lord’s Day, you are receiving the Lord’s gracious visitation. He comes to you with the things that make for peace. The preaching of the Gospel. The forgiveness of sins. Holy Baptism. The Lord’s Supper.

St. Paul says, “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.” Do you know the time of your visitation? Do you see what is happening here? Do you see what is really happening when the Word of God is preached, when your sins are forgiven, when the waters of Baptism are applied, when the Body and Blood of Christ are given to you?

This is not merely something we do for God. This is not merely our religious obligation. This is not merely another hour of our week. God is visiting His people in grace. And that is why you should never think of coming to church as though you are doing God some great favor. You are not coming here primarily to serve God. You are coming here because God has promised to serve you. You are coming into the presence of your Peace. You are entering His Sabbath Rest. You are receiving His gracious visitation.

I am not suggesting that this congregation, or Lutherans, have somehow cornered the market on the Lord’s gracious visitation. God is truly present everywhere. But here, in this place, in Word and Water, Body and Blood, God is present for you in a particular and gracious way. Here He gathers you beneath His wings. Here He forgives your sins. Here He strengthens you with His Word. Here He feeds you with the very Body and Blood of Christ. Here the One who pierced His own flesh for His brood gives you His flesh and blood that you might live.

Jesus wept over Jerusalem because they did not recognize the time of their visitation. They could not see the things that made for peace. But you have been given eyes to see. Do not close them. Do not despise the Lord’s visitation. Do not take His gifts lightly.

The world may tell you that peace is found in wealth, politics, success, pleasure, security, or your own righteousness. It may tell you that the Church needs to become more like the world in order to survive. But there is no peace in those things. Jesus is our shalom. He is our fullness and completeness. He is the Foundation of our Peace with God and with one another. And though the world surrounds us and hems us in, though the culture threatens to tear down everything that belongs to Christ, we gather here in the Lord’s house of prayer. We take shelter beneath His gracious wings. We hang on His every Word. We receive His heavenly treasures.

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it! This day, and every Lord’s Day, is the day of His gracious visitation. May God grant us always to see it, to know it, and to rejoice in it. Let us never forget the things that make for our peace. Let us cling to them. Let us preserve them. Let us receive them with thanksgiving. For they are our life and salvation. They are Jesus Christ our Lord.

In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.