Vigil of Easter

Creation, Flood, Red Sea, Fiery Furnace
St. Matthew 28:1–10

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

Sometimes it appears that we’re living in a tragedy—I mean a tragedy like a play or a movie. And we know what that’s like right now, don’t we? Hundreds of thousands have gotten sick, and thousands have died. Things look dark, and no one seems to know for sure how much longer this could go on.

Two thousand years ago, on a Saturday night, it also appeared as if the whole world was in a tragedy. The sun had gone dark the day before. The earth had shook and rocks were split and the temple curtain looked like a giant cat had used it to sharpen its claws. And the Son of God, the One who spoke the universe into existence, was cold, lying in a tomb. How much more tragic could you get?

But then, in the middle of that cosmic night, came the decisive turn. A joyful surprise! A swift change. That’s the difference between a classical tragedy and a classical comedy. I don’t mean our modern idea of a silly comedy. The easiest way to understand the difference between a tragedy and a comedy in the sense of classical plays and stories, or Shakespeare and fairy tales, is to think of the drama masks. You know, one is a sad face and the other is a smiley face.

The shape of the sad mouth gives you the basic shape of a tragedy. The story begins with the main character rising to power and success. But then comes the turn and it’s his downfall. The story ends with the main character falling from grace, from power, falling to his doom and usually dragging everyone else down with him.

But the shape of the smile gives you the shape of the classical comedy. The story begins in a perfect, or nearly perfect world. Everyone is happy. And then something terrible happens—a child is lost, or lovers are separated. The story sinks down into a problem, and often it seems unsolvable. In fact, the most moving comedies are the ones that make you wonder, when you’re down in the dark depths… are we actually in a tragedy after all?

But then, something mysterious happens, something wonderfully unexpected! A decisive turn, a joyful surprise, a swift change. And there’s the upswing completing the other half of the smile, bringing the characters and you back to that happy world. Families are restored, lost children are found, lovers reunited… the dead are raised. What appeared to be a tragedy with the death of Jesus, turned out to be the most marvelous comedy, the most unexpected happy ending. And the same is true for all the stories of God’s people.

That’s the story the Easter Vigil has been telling you tonight. Out of darkness and chaos, God created light and life. In the midst of a worldwide flood, destroying all creatures, the Lord preserved a faithful few and kept His promise to the human race. Through the Red Sea, with a murderous pharaoh at their heels, God delivered His people and brought them to victory. Out of a burning oven, the Lord rescued His children and made His name glorious. And by the death of God, all death was destroyed. And by the resurrection of this Man, new life was won for all mankind. All the stories of God’s people are stories about God saving His people, saving them certain death and destruction, death and destruction they had deserved! But all of them surprises! Mysterious, happy, wonderfully strange and joyful stories!

And what about us? Is He going to do the same for us? What story are we in? Well, the reason He’s told you all those other stories is to show you what He can and will do for you! Time and again, He has proven His faithfulness. He will save you too. You are no less important to Him than Adam and Eve, or Noah and his family, or Moses and Israel, or the three young men in Babylon. You are sons and daughters of God, rescued, pulled up through the font into His kingdom! And we know that God is working all things together for the good of those who love Him. He’s writing the story, your story, and we can barely imagine the ending. So, if God is for us, who can be against us? He did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all! So, who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies—He’s the author of the story. Who is to condemn? Who’s going to force us into a tragedy? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God (Romans 8). 

The story of Jesus is the greatest comedy of all time. The lost Child is found. The dead Son is raised. The Bride and Groom are reunited. We can’t be living in a tragedy, no matter how dark things look, because Jesus is risen! The only way to get into a tragedy now is if you write your own ending. If you walk away from God and the story He’s telling. That will end badly. But the God who created you, died for you, and rose for you, is still coming after you. He doesn’t want to let you go your own way. He wants to raise you up with Him.

Easter is still the twist ending. Even today, it’s the glorious surprise, even when we know the story so well. Every year, even in this horrible year, Easter brings a sudden and joyous change. Easter tells us once again that we are not in a tragedy. The story of this whole world is divine comedy—God’s awesome, hilariously wonderful story: the fill-you-up-until-you-burst-with-joy kind of story. Your happy ending is guaranteed because Jesus is risen. Baptized into Him, You are living His story. And the stone has been rolled away. The grave has been smashed. You were lost, but now you are found. You were dead, but now you are alive.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Good Friday

St. Luke 23:46

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

This epidemic and crisis is exposing our frailty, our mortality. It’s making us realize that our life really does just hang by a thread. We are weak and we cannot keep ourselves alive. And we are tempted to despise that, to resist it. Our desire and love for life drives us to fight against death. And it is right and good to love, promote, and preserve life. But our fear and hatred of death can go too far, to stop at nothing, to keep on living no matter the cost. And our “Can–do, Never give up!” mentality is outraged by the idea of surrender, especially surrendering to death. Or to put it in Christian terms, our fierce independence, our refusal to accept our frailty, means that we really can’t stand the idea of commending our lives into God’s hands, and trusting Him to give and take away as He knows best.

On Palm Sunday, I said that it’s the Church’s job to get people ready to die. But we, as fallen, dying human creatures ourselves, are not the ones who can actually make people ready for death or show them what to do. Only Jesus, the perfect Man, who laid down His life in our place, can serve as our example for what makes a holy, blessed death. 

As He reached the end of His suffering, Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit!” And having said this He breathed His last. The immortal One made Himself mortal. The eternal One had an end. The One who holds all things together, was held by His Father. He laid down His life into His Father’s hands, trusting that His Father would take and protect His soul, and raise Him up to life again. Jesus was praying Psalm 31: Into Your hand I commit My spirit; You have redeemed Me, O Lord, faithful God. As the true Son of God, and as the one perfect Man, Jesus trusted His Father, the faithful God, who always keeps His promises, and brings back life from the grave. So, in perfect faith, Jesus could commend His soul into the Father’s hands.

This then serves as an example for us. When God calls us to die and leave this life, we don’t fight it. We don’t resist and fear His will. But with trust and love for our heavenly Father we can commend ourselves to His safekeeping. And yet, we do not have perfect faith like Jesus, our second, perfect Adam. The old Adam in us rebels and mistrusts God. As much as we may want to, we are incapable of completely commending ourselves into God’s hands without any reservations or worries.

Our holy death cannot depend on the strength of our faith. When we most need it is when the strength of faith can fail us. And when we face that final, dreadful struggle at life’s end, we dare not rely on any of our own powers. We can never match the faithfulness of Jesus. While His example teaches us what makes a holy death, His example cannot save us. We cannot follow His example perfectly.

But the Good News of Good Friday is that Jesus is much more than our example. He is our Savior, the One who died for us, in our place. This means just as His holy life counts for us, and replaces our sinfulness with His righteousness, so also His holy death counts for us. His faithfulness in commending Himself to the Father’s hands replaces our sinful worrying, doubting, and resisting. Our holy death doesn’t depend on our faith. But like everything else good, it depends on Jesus, on His faith and on His holy death. He prays that prayer from Psalm 31 so that we can pray it with Him. He prays that prayer for us, and so Jesus commends our souls to the Father’s hands for us.

This is what our hymns want to teach us and give us, for our comfort. What’s on the mind of the dying Christian? Not my faith. I don’t need to be thinking about my faith. I want to be thinking of my Jesus, and of His holy blood and death for me.
My Savior, be Thou near me
      When death is at my door;
      Then let Thy presence cheer me,
      Forsake me nevermore!
      When soul and body languish,
      O leave me not alone,
      But take away mine anguish
      By virtue of Thine own!
Be Thou my consolation,
      My shield, when I must die;
      Remind me of Thy passion
      When my last hour draws nigh.
      Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
      Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
      My heart by faith enfold Thee.
      Who dieth thus dies well. (LSB 450:6–7)
You are baptized into Christ and into His death, so you’ve got death taken care of because He took care of it for you. By His death He destroyed death. By His rest in the tomb He hallowed your grave. And by His resurrection He brought you into His life and light. The one who dies in Jesus dies well, because death is not their end. For anyone in Jesus, death is just a short sleep, a blessed little rest, before we are reawakened, resurrected, on that great, final, never-ending morning.

Many of our hymns teach us how to prepare and practice for death every time we go to sleep. At the end of our service you will hear the stanzas of two hymns interweaved together: Upon the Cross Extended, which contemplates our Savior’s death, and Now Rest Beneath Night’s Shadow, a hymn for bedtime. Listen to this stanza, that gives meaning to something as ordinary as undressing for bed:
To rest my body hasteth,
Aside its garments casteth,
Types of mortality;
These I put off and ponder
How Christ will give me yonder
A robe of glorious majesty. (TLH 554:4)
Taking off our clothes and lying down to sleep can symbolize our death and the putting off of our mortal nature. Each night, and finally at the end of life, we lie down to rest in peace, awaiting the new and eternal body that Christ will give us on the Last Day. Now hear the echo of this peaceful sleep in the hymn for Good Friday:
Your cross I place before me;
Its saving pow’r restore me,
Sustain me in the test.
It will, when life is ending, 
Be guiding and attending
My way to Your eternal rest. (LSB 453:7)
The cross of Jesus is not a terror but a comfort. His cross refreshes and strengthens you for life now. And His cross transforms your death. Death is no longer a punishment. When death comes, you are finally able to fully enter into the rest of Jesus, with no more toil or tribulation. So, remember this when you go to bed tonight. Practice your death. Say you prayers and lie down to rest in the peace of Jesus: Into Your hands I commend myself, my body and soul, and all things.

No matter when death comes or what form it takes, you’ll be ready. Jesus has already commended your soul into God’s hands, because when He did it for Himself, He did it for you. By faith in Jesus and His atoning death, you now rest in Jesus. By your baptism into the death of Jesus, you now rest secure in His holy wounds. So, if you are in Jesus, and He is in His Father’s hands, then you also already rest in the loving hands of your heavenly Father. There’s nothing more to do, nothing more to fear. When death comes, your God will just tuck you in, to rest in peace. And then after a short sleep, He will wake you up.

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Maundy Thursday

1 Corinthians 11:23–32
St. John 13:1–15, 34–35

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

Peter thought he was clean. He thought he could stand up on his own two feet. He thought he could never forsake Jesus, even if it meant dying for Jesus. Peter was wrong. His feet were unclean, and he could not stand against temptation by his own strength. He didn’t just forsake Jesus, he denied Him. In the face of suffering, in the grip of fear, his true heart was exposed.

Trials and suffering, crosses and sicknesses often expose our hearts. They reveal what we truly fear, love, or trust. For many of us, this crisis has done just that. What do you miss most? What’s stinging your conscience? What have you been willing to give up? What are you most afraid of losing? This reveals your true heart.

This epidemic and our reactions to it, have struck hard at our churches. Normally, in times of crisis, the pews get more full. In this one, many churches stand empty, locked, the pastor and the people at home. We all have had to give up a lot in the past few weeks. But what should hurt most is what many have had to give up in the church. Many people have severe risks. Many must take extreme measures for their own safety or for the safety of others. And sadly, for many, this means not being able to attend public worship, and worst of all, not being able to receive the Lord’s Supper.

I am not here passing judgment on anyone’s personal decision. I am not binding anyone’s conscience as to whether they should be coming to the Supper at this time. Each of us must always make that decision and preparation for that holy meal for ourselves. I will never force anyone to receive the Lord’s Supper, especially at this time of danger and uncertainty. I will never urge you to risk your health. That is not my place.

But here’s what I do need to say, tonight of all nights, on the night our Lord instituted His most gracious Supper: Being unable to receive the Lord’s Supper should make you want to weep. It might very well be the right call for you to abstain for now, I’m not doubting that. Nevertheless, it should tear you up inside. Being kept from your Lord’s body and blood should be a cause for mourning, and for longing.

But if your response to not being able to receive the Lord’s Supper at this time is simply to say, “Oh well. Yeah, it’s too bad. But I’ll get by. Anyway, what can you do? Just one of those things.” Then your heart has been exposed. And it’s not a heart clinging to Christ alone. Also, I know it’s true that God never promised us that germs and viruses couldn’t spread within the walls of our sanctuary, but if you have concluded that germs are somehow more of a threat in our church building than they are anywhere else, then your heart has been revealed. If you think it’s too dangerous to receive the Lord’s Supper, but you’re still going to the grocery store, the gas station, the bank drive–through, fast food drive–through, and all the other supposedly essential businesses that are still open, then you are declaring through your actions that Wonder Bread is worth the risk, but the Bread of Life is not. In all of this, you are not seeking first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. You are not hungering and thirsting for the body and blood of Jesus, because it’s not the very beating heart of your life. You don’t believe that you need the righteousness of Christ more than anything else in this world.

You do need it. Our Lord gave this Supper, He commanded us that we have this Supper. It’s nonnegotiable. It’s not an option for when we feel like it or when it fits in our life. Our Lord gave it because we have a much worse sickness than any virus. We have the absolutely terminal illness known as sin and death. So, we need our Lord’s medicine, in every way He prescribes it.

We need this Supper, not only in the sense that we need to do it because Jesus says so, but more importantly, more wonderfully, we need this holy food because we need the health and peace, the comfort and strength it gives us. If you still have a body, then you need this Supper. As long as you are in this flesh and blood that’s so corrupted by sinful desires, then you are going to need your Lord’s holy flesh and blood. If you are still in this fallen world, then you still need this heavenly Supper. Because in this life, there is no end to the sickness, the disasters, and the crises. You will need the peace He gives through His body and blood. And, if you’re still a flesh and blood sinner, and you still live in this fallen world, then the devil is coming for you, and you will need this Supper for your protection. As long as you are a Christian you have to be on guard, because the devil is not going to leave you alone. In fact, if you say, “I think I’m fine. I don’t really need the Lord’s Supper right now,” then that’s probably a good sign that the devil has tricked you, that he’s convinced you everything is fine and you don’t really need Jesus at this moment. And that’s exactly where he wants every Christian to be, thinking, “I’m fine on my own.” Then he’s got us.

Now, I don’t say any of this out of anger or disappointment. I’m not trying to force people to the Supper. And I don’t say any of this to any specific person, either in our congregation or anywhere else. But I say it out of duty to my office and calling. It is my job to teach and to warn, so that people are not caught and held captive by sin or a bad conscience. And I say this so that I may also give comfort and encouragement to those who are mourning, to all who grieve the loss of the Supper at this time.

If you have had to stay home, if you are kept away from your Lord’s body and blood due to these circumstances outside your control, if you feel trapped by fear and anxiety, then I also want to speak these precious words of Jesus to you: Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28). Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid (John 14:27). Even if you are unable to receive the Lord’s Supper at this time, your Lord Jesus can still give you rest and peace. You are still able to feed upon the His life-giving body and blood through faith. This is what the old Lutherans called “spiritual eating,” and it’s nothing more than what Christians do at all times: hear Christ’s Word with faith and love. In fact, without that faith, eating and drinking His body and blood with our mouths would do us no good, but only harm.

So, we treasure His Word, our souls feed upon Him as He comes to us in that Word. And in every trouble or temptation, we can firmly rely on His Word and know that we have a gracious God who loves us and accepts us, all on account of our Savior Jesus Christ. Our Lord does not limit Himself to only one way for us to receive His gifts. His Word and all His mercy comes to us in many ways, all for the sake of our faith, that we would have a good conscience before Him. So, even if you are unable right now to receive your Lord’s body and blood with your mouths, you still receive Him by faith. One of the Lord’s ways of delivering His goodness has been removed from you for a little while, but you still have His Word. You still are His baptized child. You still are able to call upon Him in prayer. You still feed upon His life by faith and so are blessed.

And yet, while some of the Church is being sustained by our Lord without His Supper, the Church can never really lose the Lord’s Supper entirely. It is still the beating heart of our life. It is the crucified and risen Lord present in our midst. So, those of us who are able to gather still gather. Come to the Feast that your King has prepared for you. Come, all who are hungry and thirsty, all who are scared and weak, all who are sick and tired, all who are sick and tired of the sin still clinging to them. His body fills your emptiness, and gives strength for tomorrow and the next day. His blood drowns your sorrows and worries, and intoxicates with pure heavenly joy. This holy food will sustain His people so long as they remain in the wilderness of this world.

The Church will never stop or vanish from the earth, even if she is reduced to only two or three gathered in Christ’s name. He will not let His Church fall. The Lord will never let His Supper disappear entirely, so that when it comes time for the doors of our churches to be flung wide open once again, the Lord and His Church will still be there, delivering His body and blood to sick sinners in need of His medicine. It is a medicine for the cancer of sin. It is a medicine for the weakness of faith. It is a medicine that cures death, that will bring us, body and soul together, to that life and world everlasting. Oh give thanks unto the Lord for He is good, and His mercy endures forever.

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.


A Prayer for Worthy Communion and for those unable to receive Communion at this time
O God, who desires not the death of a sinner, but rather that he turn from his evil way and live, we come before You although we have sinned and deserve only Your wrath. But we flee to Your mercy in Christ Jesus, our Lord, who gave His body and His blood for our redemption. Lord, grant that we may ever thus believe and never waver. Grant that in such faith we may worthily come to Your altar to eat the very body and drink the true blood which Your Son gives to us, that we may duly praise, laud, and honor Your love and Your mercy all the days of our life. But, O Lord, many of Your faithful Christians are unable at this time to receive in their mouths Christ’s true body and blood. Stir up their minds and hearts to a salutary remembrance of His benefits. Grant that by faith we all may spiritually partake of Him as we recall the Words of His new and eternal Testament. Grant us ever to rejoice in how Your Son once offered Himself upon the altar of the cross in our place. Fill all Your people now with His blood-bought forgiveness, and pour Your heavenly benediction and grace upon everyone who devoutly remembers His holy sacrifice. Finally, gather us all together from the ends of the earth to celebrate with all the faithful the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, which has no end. Graciously receive our prayers, deliver and preserve us, for to You alone we give all glory, honor, and worship, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Palm Sunday

St. Matthew 21:1–9
Philippians 2:5–11      
St. Matthew 26:1–27:66

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

“Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”

“Hosanna” is a tricky word to translate. It’s a shout of greeting and prayer and praise all at the same time. It means, “Save now!” But what exactly was that Palm Sunday crowd asking for? What did they want to be saved from? Save us now… from the tyranny of the Romans? From the corruption of the religious leaders? Or from poverty and sickness?

What do we ask God for? What do we want to be saved from? Save us now… from a frustrating government? From a decadent and immoral society? Or from inconvenience? Save us from being uncomfortable? Or from sickness? What about, “Save us from death”? Do we actually believe that prayer can be answered? Do we ever think about death? Do we fear it as we should? Can we face it as we ought?

Our culture celebrates death in many ways. Abortion and assisted suicide have their champions. TV and movies make death part of our entertainment, almost as bad as the Romans who watched gladiators kill each other for sport. But at the same time, death is not something we talk about in our culture. We let hospice take care of the dying, preferably tucked away somewhere, with lots of drugs, so they’re not uncomfortable… or so that we are not uncomfortable. And we have plenty of other nice ways to soften death’s sharp touch, some sweet phrases to sprinkle over death’s stench: “He passed on… She’s in a better place… It’s just a natural part of life… They live on in our hearts or memories... or in the wind…”

It’s strange. Death is on display, and yet, we don’t want to talk about it. If someone tries to bring up death or making plans for death, we get uncomfortable and try to change the subject. Really, it’s extraordinary that we are so good at avoiding this reality, when it is the one absolute certainty in our existence.

The fact that everyone has panicked so much during this epidemic proves that as a society, as a culture, we do not take the time to think and prepare for death. This virus comes, and everyone acts as if the threat of sickness and death is some new thing, as if they’ve never heard of it before. It’s certainly clear that they are not ready for it, that we are not ready. And that should tell us who are in the Church that it’s at least partly our fault. We have dropped the ball a few times along the way. Because it’s the Church’s job to tell people, “Hey. Wake up. Pay attention. You’re going to die. You better get ready for that.” It’s the Church’s job to prepare people for death and offer them the only true source of comfort that will sustain them in the face of death. I think the fact that people both outside the church and inside the church are acting this way is a sign that we have not been doing our job.

So, let’s go back to the crowd on Palm Sunday. Because even if they didn’t have their thinking quite right, even if they weren’t sure what they needed to be saved from, they prayed the right prayer: Hosanna! Save now! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! They were praying Psalm 118, and that Psalm certainly shows us how to think about death. 

Psalm 118, verses 8 and 9: It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man. It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes. Don’t we need to hear that right now? We cannot put our trust in the government or in certain political parties. We cannot put our trust in doctors, in the experts, in miracle drugs. We cannot put our trust in our own knowledge or strength, not in the strength of our bodies or even the strength of our faith. If it comes from us, if it comes from man, then it can fail. This doesn’t mean we can’t use these things. We appreciate and benefit from good government, and good doctors and scientists, and from sound human logic and reason. We use these things to take care of ourselves and our neighbors in this life. But we can’t trust these things.

We must take our final refuge in the Lord. This means that if the things of men fail, when they fail, and when we fail, when we die, we still have a refuge that lasts beyond all the rest. The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation. Psalm 118, verse 14. The Lord is our only true life. If all we look out for, if all we prepare for, if all we strive for, is this life, then we are dead, and that’s where we’ll stay. But if the Lord is our life, if He is the One we seek for first, the One we turn to first, the One we go after even if it means giving up everything else, including physical health, then we have His strength that will sustain us forever.

And we will be able to say with Psalm 118 and with Jesus Himself: I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord. The Lord has disciplined me severely, but he has not given me over to death. Jesus died, and yet He lives. He was disciplined more severely than any man. He suffered under God’s wrath for all our sin. But He was not given over to death entirely. He did not remain in the grave, but rose from the dead. And all who trust in Him also cannot be held by death.

And so we continue to declare with Psalm 118 and with Jesus: Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the Lord. Death itself is now nothing more than a doorway, a gate into life everlasting. The empty tomb is the gate of the Lord; the righteous shall enter through it. We are able to say all this because of our Lord Jesus who has gone before us. He entered the gates of Jerusalem on a donkey as the king of Israel, but that was only a shadow of His kingship. What He did and what happened to Him at the end of that week was His true kingly work.

Psalm 118 prophesies that The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. This is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Jesus is the stone rejected by the builders, despised and crucified by the leaders of the people. But He has become the cornerstone, the foundation of our faith and of our victory. He was chosen by God. It was His doing and it is marvelous. His rejection, His death, His blood, and His rising again, means that we can rejoice and be glad. The day that the Lord has made is the Day of Jesus: the day of His death, the day of His resurrection—the day, the hour, the time of our salvation.

So we can pray with that Palm Sunday crowd and with Psalm 118: Save us, we pray, O Lord! Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is Jesus who came to His fallen creatures in our own flesh and blood. Blessed is He who came to His city as her true king. Blessed is Jesus who hung on His cross, suffered, bled, and died for sinners. Blessed is He who rose from the dead in victory. Blessed is Jesus who comes in the bread and the wine with His body and blood, giving us the food that conquers death.

We should fear death. Without the Lord Jesus, death would swallow us up forever. We must prepare for death. It will come and there are no second chances. We can prepare to meet death with confidence. With faith in Jesus, we swallow up death. His body given and His blood shed in death is what destroyed death. So in eating that body and drinking that blood, we are made more than ready for death. We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good; for his mercy endures forever!

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.