Showing posts with label Advent 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Advent 2. Show all posts

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Second Sunday in Advent - Populus Zion

Romans 15:4–13

St. Luke 21:25–36


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

Maybe you’ve heard the phrase, “Pandora’s box.” It comes from an old story by the ancient Greeks. The story goes that Pandora was the first woman. She was created by the Greek gods, and each one blessed her with a talent or quality. Aphrodite gave her beauty. Apollo gave her music. But Zeus gave her curiosity, and along with it, He gave her a box and told her never to open it. Pandora was then sent by the gods to live on earth and be married to her husband. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop thinking about that box—wondering what was inside. At last, her curiosity got the better of her and she had to take a quick peek.

But the moment she opened the lid, a whole swarm of miseries flew out and escaped: Greed, Vanity, Slander, Envy, Hatred, Distrust, Gossip—they all flew out and escaped into the world to plague and torment mankind ever since. But, thankfully, Pandora snapped the box shut just in time. Because at the very bottom of the box, Zeus had put Hope. And if Hope had flown out it would’ve been quickly destroyed by all those evils. So, the story says, even though there are many miseries in the world, Hope has not left us completely.

This old myth from the pagan Greeks has some similarities with the Bible, but God’s Story is so much better. The first woman, beautifully created by God, certainly had a hand in bringing sin and misery into the world. It wasn’t exactly curiosity that drove Eve to take the forbidden fruit, but it was a desire for something that wasn’t supposed to be hers: a desire to be like God. However, Adam, the man, was ultimately the one responsible. And Eve hadn’t been set up by God, like Pandora was by Zeus. The Lord wasn’t playing games with them. He commanded Adam and Eve not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, and warned them if they disobeyed Him they would die. But most importantly, it wasn’t up to Adam and Eve to keep Hope alive. It’s not up to us either. Our Hope is not trapped in a box and it won’t fly away.

Our Hope is the Lord Himself, the true Son of God. The Bible’s story about Hope is not that luckily Hope got trapped with us, but that Hope willingly, lovingly came down to earth and became a man. The story of Christmas is that Hope was born of a woman, a little baby in a lowly manger. And here on earth He suffered all the sins and miseries we have unleashed on the world. He bore it all and put it all to death on His cross. And then from the grave He rose again. Not trapped in a dark box or a dark tomb, our Hope is alive. He lives and reigns over us and with us, so that all our lives are filled and covered with Hope. Our Hope for life and peace and blessing cannot be disappointed or taken away no matter how many evils attack us, because Jesus lives. Our Hope lives.

Now, it might seem like 2020 is a real Pandora’s box. It seems like this year has just been letting loose one miserable thing after another. And we might be tempted to wonder if Hope has escaped our reach after all. Has hope been lost? I’m afraid it has for many people, especially for those who do not know Jesus Christ. We might say “I hope things get better soon,” but in our hearts and minds we doubt they will. Coming to the end of the year, with still so much unknown, we might be feeling the dread that things will never get back to normal. 

And the truth is we don’t know what 2021 will bring. We can “hope” that it will be better, but we really have no guarantee. Hope is not our prisoner or slave that we can bring it out and magically make things better whenever we want. But real Hope, the Hope of Jesus, is still with us, and it is far better than anything we might dream up for ourselves. Christian Hope is not for possibilities. Christian Hope is for a certainty.

St. Paul had much to say about hope in our Epistle reading: Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. Christian Hope comes from the Holy Scriptures. This passage from Romans is paraphrased for us in one of the prayers we often use and will pray later in our service: Blessed Lord, You have caused all Holy Scriptures to be written for our learning. Grant that we may so hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them that, by patience and comfort of Your Holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life.

So, Christian Hope does not come from human myths or human strength or human determination. It comes from the story of God’s promises: the history of His people and how He keeps all His promises in Christ. As St. Paul wrote: Christ became a servant to the circumcised to show God's truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy… And again Isaiah says, “The root of Jesse, that is Christ, will come, even He who arises to rule the Gentiles; in Him will the Gentiles hope.”

Jesus fulfills God’s promises of salvation for all people, Jew and Gentile. And hearing the account of Jesus’ life and work we can also be confident that God will keep His final promises: the promises that our Lord forgives our sins, that He will come again to save us, and raise us up to everlasting life. God’s truthfulness is the basis for our Hope. In Jesus we see and hear that God is faithful to His promises. We can count on Him.

So, when it comes to Christian Hope don’t think of it in the human way, like: “I hope next year is better… I hope the vaccine works… I hope things get back to normal…” And never say things like: “I hope I go to heaven… I hope God forgives me…” As if you don’t know, as if you’re not sure! Christian Hope is not for possibilities. Christian Hope is for a certainty. When we say “Hope” as Christians we are saying: “I know this is what my God will do.”

St. Paul wrote: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. If God gives you this Hope, then you know it’s good. He is the God of Hope, so when He gives you Hope He gives you Himself, the very Son of God your Savior. This is for certain. Jesus cannot be weakened or destroyed, and so your Hope will not be disappointed or lost.

This Hope is also what we are praying for in our Collect of the Day: Stir up our hearts, O Lord, to make ready the way of Your only-begotten Son, that by His coming we may be enabled to serve You with pure minds. Three of the Collects in Advent are known as the “Stir up” Collects. On the First Sunday, we prayed, Stir up Your power, O Lord. And on the Last Sunday in Advent we ask that again: Stir up Your power, O Lord—Come on! Act! Show Your power! Save us!

But today we pray, Stir up our hearts, O Lord. Get our hearts going! Wake them up and direct them to the right things! We are asking that God would agitate our hearts and shake them up, not so that we would panic or despair, but so that we would not be satisfied by this world of sin, misery, and death. Wake up our hearts, O Lord, so that we would not get too comfortable here or look for salvation in earthly health or possessions or a life of ease. But shake our hearts awake so that we would look to You for our answers, for security and comfort, peace and rest. Stir up our hearts, O Lord, so that we do not have our hope set on keeping what’s here for now, but that we would put our hope in what is yet to come: Your only-begotten Son.

With our hearts rightly stirred up, hoping in Jesus our Redeemer, then we are enabled to serve God with pure minds. Each morning we can rise with the sign of the holy cross and know that our God and Savior will be with us, will protect us and guide us. And each evening we can go to our rest with the sign of the holy cross, knowing that our God will forgive us and bring us to eternal life with Him.

With hearts stirred up by Hope, we can live our days without fear, no matter how many miseries come flying at us. We are immortal in Christ, our risen Lord—far more glorious than any Greek god or goddess, or anything else man can dream up. We are sons and daughters of the living God. We are going to rise from the dead. And with hearts stirred up by Hope, we can see that not-so-distant future: the ending of this miserable world and the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. So, straighten up and raise your heads with hope, because your redemption is drawing near.

Come quickly + Lord Jesus. Amen.

Sunday, December 8, 2019

Second Sunday in Advent

St. Luke 21:25–36



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

The day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble. The day that is coming shall set them ablaze (Mal. 4:1). They will suffer and be terrified, because during this life they lived as if they were the only ones who mattered. 

They didn’t look evil. They loved their families and they loved Christmas. They watched It’s a Wonderful Life every year and when they hear “God bless America” they shed a tear. But they didn’t love Jesus, not the real Jesus, not the Jesus who said things like: “Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow Me” (Luke 9:23), and, “No one comes to the Father except through Me” (John 14:6). These people will see the signs of the End, but it will be too late. The signs of the End will be for them nothing but impending doom and total destruction.

Repent. That’s what the just God requires of us. We are the wicked. What was written in Holy Scripture was written for our instruction, and yet we do not live in harmony or in hope. We live for ourselves. We think it’s admirable, that it’s impressive that we love our families and those who already love us, but that’s no different from the way unbelievers live. Loving Christmas and decorations, loving your Grandma, and loving your country does not make you a Christian. Repent. If we were judged by our lives, by our works, if we were judged by what we love, then we would be destroyed like stubble in a fire.

The great and terrible Day of the Lord is coming. But for those who have joy in Christ now, that Day will be pure joy! Our Lord Jesus points out what’s going on in the world now. His words point to politics and climate change, violent crime and loss of civil liberties. They point to wars and they remind us that sometimes bombs rain down on young sailors and soldiers on a quiet Sunday morning in Hawaii. In all these things, we see the End. In disasters, both natural and manmade, in simple burdens like being the target of gossip, we see that this world cannot endure. But Jesus doesn’t want to turn us into Chicken Little, running and screaming in panic. Our Lord says, “When these things begin to take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Our redemption—our Jesus—is drawing near. Rejoice!

Look at the signs in the sun, moon, and stars, in the earth and sea, even in your own life. Look at the cross you’re bearing, at the death surrounding you, and see beautiful blossoms and rainbows. Even these terrible signs must serve God and so also serve you. They point you to God’s grace and promises. They are ushering in something new: everlasting peace, the end of all war, the utter defeat of death. On that Day that is coming, your enemies will be no more. Sin will lose all its appeal. Temptation will have no power. There will be no one to accuse you or hurt you. And the good work that the Lord has begun in you will be completed. You will be justified with Christ’s righteousness as you are now, but you will also be actually holy in all your own thoughts, words, and deeds. Creation itself will rejoice to see you revealed as a child of God. And you will rejoice. You will be glad, because the kingdom of God will come to you and will never be taken away.

For now, you suffer. You know many hardships, most of them secret, in your heart and mind. But you endure with faith and prayer, by the power of the Word and the Sacrament, waiting for the Day of the Lord’s appearing—the culmination of your hope. Because then, at last, the wrath of God will completely pass over you, not harming you, because you are marked with the blood of the Lamb. Your Lord Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, He is with you. He’s on your side. He loves you. And He is coming back to get you. This is not the End that any of us deserve, but it is the End that He has promised, the End that He has won for us.

However, the only way for there to be joy on the Last Day, when our Lord Jesus comes in glory and judgment, is if there is joy now. The Lord, who came to us by the Virgin in order to lay down His life as a sacrifice for the sins of the world and to take His life back up again as a victory over death and hell, that same Lord comes to us now in His holy Word and Sacrament. He comes in this way so that even now, while you’re still stuck with your sinful flesh and afflicted with doubt; even now, while you still tramp through this valley of sorrow, you may have joy, even now. 

And if the Lord comes now and makes you God’s child, His people, His temple; if He visits you in this painful, sad, and broken world despite your sins and He does not turn away from your shame, but He comes to cover you and protect you; if by His Word He declares you righteous and holy now, then there is nothing to fear on the Last Day, and certainly, there is much to rejoice about. Because if He comes now in grace and mercy just as He has promised, then He will come on the Last Day in the same way—in grace and mercy. The only difference will be that then His grace and mercy will be visible and with power. Then your Baptism will be brought to completion. And no sorrows will cling to you, but all will be replaced with unbreakable joy.

This is why Jesus gives us the parable of the fig tree. How wonderful to hear this parable especially at this time of year, when all around us the trees are teaching us the way of all flesh. Everything is gray and bare and dead. This world is ending. But the parable of the fig tree turns our thoughts on the end of the world upside down. While one thing is ending, a new thing is coming. The signs of disaster and impending doom are good signs for believers, like trees coming out in leaf. And the fruit will not be far behind. The Last Day is not our winter, but our summer! This is also why at Christmas we use evergreens to decorate. Faith stands in contrast to what the eyes see. While everything looks like death and destruction, faith sees the fig tree coming out in leaf.

And you know what buds and blossoms and ripening fruit means: summer is coming! So also, look at this altar and see more signs of life: the buds and fruit of Jesus’ body and blood. See it also in His Word, in His Absolution, and in His Baptism. The Lord visits you now. The crucified and risen Lord comes to you in your hour of need, for your sake and for your good. The world is evil, and you are surrounded by danger, temptation, and injustice. But Jesus is faithful. He has ascended but He has not abandoned you.

His coming now in the Word and Sacrament shows that summer is on its way. The winter will end. He has not forgotten you. His Word is the fig tree that foreshows the End. His body and blood are the foretaste of the great feast to come. You are redeemed, washed clean and clothed in the blood of the Lamb. You are ready for the End. So, straighten up and raise your heads. Rejoice.

Come quickly + Lord Jesus. Amen.


Preached at Trinity, Clinton, IA & Immanuel, Charlotte, IA

Most of this comes from Rev. David Petersen, Advent 2 in God with Us, p.24–26.