Second Sunday after Christmas

St. Matthew 2:13–23

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

On Christmas Day, I made the case that all people who celebrate Christmas are paying homage to the birth of Christ in some way, whether they know it or believe it or not. And it’s true that no one would be celebrating Christmas at all, it would not exist, if Christ had not been born. It is a thoroughly Christian holiday.

But recently, I did see something on Facebook where at least a couple people did a pretty good job of using their celebration of Christmas to spit in Christ’s face. They said, “It is literally impossible to top our [tree] topper.” And the picture they shared showed the top of their Christmas tree with a “star” made out of surgical instruments, specifically the forceps, scissors, and knives that are used to cut, kill, and tear up the little body of a unborn baby still in his mother’s womb: #ProAbortion #Christmas.

Can you imagine, celebrating Christmas, which is the birth of a Child, while also celebrating the murder of children? That is Satanic. If you think our society and culture is basically still Christian, decent, respectful of life… Wake up. All the talk of health and safety these days is outrageous, not because it’s wrong to care about health or safety, but because most of the people doing it are also fine with letting the elderly die alone and letting, or even cheering on, the willful destruction of human life in the womb.

There are more and more people in our day who openly despise Christ and His Church, who openly flout God’s Law and are proud about it, and who want to actively punish God’s people. And yet, our culture is not that different from Jerusalem at the time of the first Christmas or throughout Jesus’ life. They also despised God’s Law, persecuted God’s true people, and finally killed Christ and the first members of His Church. And that disgusting tree topper is not really that different from how King Herod celebrated the first Christmas, by murdering all the little boys in the town of Bethlehem.

I’m sorry if all this is making you feel a little uncomfortable. But sometimes it’s good to be made uncomfortable, to really see and recognize evil. But today is supposed to be the Tenth Day of Christmas, and none of this sounds very Christmassy. But Christmas has its dark side: a pregnant teen, not technically married; no family willing to help or give the couple a place to stay better than the barn; the only ones interested in this birth are a group of outcasts: poor shepherds and weird foreigners; then fleeing out of the country in the middle of the night; little babies killed and mothers weeping. That is the Christmas story. So much of it is stained and scarred by evil.

Yet, the story of Christmas and the story of Christ’s entire life and work, is that God uses evil for good. We know that for those who love God all things work together for good (Rom. 8:28). The Baby born on Christmas is the Lord who was born in order to die. The only reason He escaped Herod’s rage, while others were killed, was so that He could die at the proper time and in the proper way. His death, not in Bethlehem but on the cross, means He can give life to all, including the babies who are killed by Herod’s soldiers. There was certainly tragedy in that first Christmas story, just as there was tragedy in that first Easter story, but the end of this story is God working wonders, bringing saints out of sinners, bringing life out of death.

Our problem is that when we are in the midst of the tragic parts to our story we cannot see the good that God is working. We know He is working for our good but we only know that by faith in the resurrection of Christ and faith in our resurrection to come. In the midst of the death and darkness we don’t understand where the good will come from. In God’s wisdom, evil is permitted to continue. And when we experience it, we don’t have the answers to our questions. Why are millions of babies slaughtered in their mothers’ wombs? Or why does a child die in the womb from sickness or defect? Why are young men killed in war or in accidents? Why are families are torn apart by adultery, divorce, abuse, drugs? Why are people are forced from their homes? Why do so many lose the safety or convenience they once knew? Why are Christians imprisoned or killed? Why does a congregation fall on hard times? We don’t have all the answers to these questions. Or at least we don’t have the answers to solve these problems and rid the world of these evils.

Instead of answering the questions, we trust God’s mercy. We know that He is faithful, that He forgives all sins, that He desires life for us and with us. We know this because He gave His own Son for us and for the world. There is no sin that is not covered by the blood of God’s holy child, not even the sin of Herod, the sin of murdering an innocent baby. If that is true, then we may not despair in the face of evil. We take comfort in knowing that whatever else happens, God is merciful. And so we go on doing what He has given us to do. As St. Peter said in our Epistle: Let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good (1 Peter 4:19).

When tragedy and suffering and death invade our lives, or when openly wicked people seem to surround us and shove their wickedness in our faces, we probably wish that none of this would happen to us. And so do all who live to see such times, but that is not for us to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. *

Sometimes all we can do is have a good cry in the arms of a family member or friend, read a couple Bible verses, and go for a walk. Sometimes all we can do is take the next tiny step, do the next right thing, like focus on teaching just our own children or grandchildren about what is good and right, and forget about the rest of society. And maybe that’s just in a passing conversation. Maybe for one day it’s just saying your prayers together. What we do to keep the darkness at bay is usually very small, and might even feel like it doesn’t help much in the grand scheme of things. We may not even be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but we know that Light is coming. That Light (with a capital “L”) was born for us in the evil darkness that covers this world. Our Light was born in the night of sin where the devil seems to have his way. But that Light was born and His Day is coming, when all evil will be exposed, and all things wrong will be put to right, and children will be given back to their mothers and fathers, and even the most wicked sinners who have turned back to God’s Son will be welcomed into His home.

In the three days following Christmas, we remember a group of saints who departed this life while confessing, witnessing to the Holy Child of Bethlehem. They are all martyrs, but in different ways. 

One Dec. 26, we remember St. Stephen, the first martyr of the New Testament Church. He was a martyr in will and in deed. That means he was willing to die for the testimony he gave about Christ and he did. He was stoned to death by the Jewish rulers. 

On Dec. 27, we gave thanks to God for His Apostle and Evangelist, St. John. St. John was a martyr in will but not in deed. He was willing to die for his Lord and Master, but as far as we know he died of old age, the last of the apostles, yet giving testimony of the Gospel until the very end. 

On Dec. 28, we remember the Holy Innocents, the little boys of Bethlehem, who died at the hand of Herod’s soldiers. They were martyrs in deed but not in will. They were killed because of Christ, but they were not able to choose to do so willingly. And yet the Church has always regarded them as holy martyrs, champions of the cross who now rest in joy and peace around the throne of God. For as I said before, God worked good through this evil event. His Son was spared from Herod’s cruel order, but ultimately He was put to death as the one true martyr of all martyrs: the One who died in our place and did so totally willingly, freely, even joyfully suffering, for the glory that is rightfully His and is also shared with us.

So, if we must suffer, if we must die, then let us do so willingly, while trusting the One who willingly suffered and died for us at the proper time; trusting in the One who also rose from the dead so that He can raise us all at the proper time and crown us with His own glory and honor. This means that whenever tragedy strikes, when we don’t have the answers to our questions in the face of evil, what we need to do every time is repent. 

Let us kill the evil in ourselves. Let us die before our deaths, and so be given a different kind of life. This is life found only in God’s forgiveness, so that whenever death comes we can lie down in our graves like little children lie down in their beds; with trust, like a child as his mother and father tuck him in bed and kiss him goodnight, and with blamelessness, like the baby boys of Bethlehem who did no wrong, for in Christ we are truly holy innocents. Let us lie down in death with the full confidence of a child who knows morning will come, we will open our eyes, and we will see our loving Father. 

We still grieve, we still suffer, and we still die, but with hope. For although we are separated now from loved ones, although we bear the burdens and scars of sin and death, the birth of God’s Son means that all of God’s children will be brought home and reunited at last.

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

*  Loosely quoted from J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Third Sunday in Advent - Gaudete

1 Corinthians 4:1–5

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

As you know, I don’t give my personal opinions from this pulpit. What I speak here, I speak in my office, as a called and ordained servant of the Word. And so I do not speak in my person as Anthony Dodgers, I don’t give my opinions on the news or political events. Yet today, I am driven to speak as the servant of Christ against at least one of this nation’s political officials. The Governor of Virginia recently told the citizens of his state: “You don’t need to be in church to worship God this Christmas. God is wherever you are. You don’t have to sit in a pew for God to hear your prayers.” He doesn’t want churches to hold services for one of the most important holidays in the Christian religion.

Okay, it’s true that you don’t have to be in a church in order to pray. In fact, you should be praying regularly at home and in other places of your life. And it’s true that God is everywhere—although that really has nothing to do with the real purpose of worship. There’s a lot that’s wrong in what the Virginia Governor was trying to say. First of all, he overstepped his bounds as a servant in the civil estate. He deserves honor and obedience according to his office as governor. But he is not called to be speaking for the Church or teaching in the Church. He has no business as Governor or private citizen telling Christians how they should worship. He does not have that authority or responsibility.

But there’s something even worse. If we understand what he’s really trying to say, then he is a false teacher. He wants to say that you can worship God wherever you are and you’ll receive the same blessings and gifts even if you are not gathered in the Church. He’s promoting a false teaching called “enthusiasm,” which literally means, “God is in you.” This teaching says that you don’t need sacraments like Baptism or the Lord’s Supper; you don’t need pastors to preach the Word or pronounce forgiveness; you don’t even need the Bible itself because you can just have a direct connection with God in your own thinking or feeling. This is false, and it is rejected by sacramental Christians.

Christ commanded Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and the preaching of the Word. There is no promise that His Spirit will come to us apart from God’s Word and the Means of Grace. So, it is actually essential for Christians to gather. The words “synagogue,” “congregation,” and even “church” all mean the same thing: “assembly, gathering.” Christian worship is not a private affair. It is corporate—meaning it is done as a body. It is necessary for the Church to gather and assemble so that as the Body of Christ we might receive the Means of Grace: confess our sins and hear the Absolution; listen to preaching that teaches us the Scriptures; eat and drink the Lord’s body and blood as members of His Holy Communion. 

St. Paul has this in mind when he speaks about pastors in our Epistle reading: This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful. The “us” here are the apostles and ministers of Christ. So, pastors are to be servants of Christ, which means they follow His orders and no one else’s. And they are to be stewards of the mysteries. Pastors are the caretakers and overseers of the gifts that Christ gives His Church. So as a pastor I’ve been ordained, that means I’ve been ordered by Christ to fulfill this ministry. And specifically I’ve been ordered to be a steward. It’s my job to distribute God’s gifts. It’s my job to preach the Word, forgive sins, baptize, and offer the Supper. And the only One I’m finally answerable to is the One who gave me my orders: Christ the Lord.

Paul says, But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me. So, even if I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong in my ministry, that’s not my call. The Lord is my judge. I have to be faithful to the orders I’ve received from Him, no matter what.

I’m teaching you what’s expected of pastors, but thinking this through can also help us understand what is essential or foundational for the work of our church. What must we be about? Well, the most important thing we absolutely have to be doing is proclaiming God’s Word and administering His Sacraments. What does that look like? Well, at the bare minimum, it means I, as pastor, have to show up, and at least one other person. If no one shows up, meaning there’s no one there to hear the Word or receive the Supper, then I can say a few prayers by myself and go home. Notice, the service wasn’t canceled, it just didn’t happen because no one was there to receive it.

But cancelling a service is different. Cancelling means that automatically I’m not doing my job as a steward. In fact, it means I’m actually working against my job because I’m telling people the church is closed, they may not come receive God’s gifts. See how that changes things? People are always allowed to decide if they want to receive God’s Word and Sacrament. But it is wrong for me as a servant of Christ and steward of the mysteries to make that decision for people and tell them that they cannot come, that God’s Word and Sacrament are not available, that they’ve been cancelled. Instead, I do my job, the church does her job—we offer God’s Word and Sacrament for all who desire it, and we leave it up to you whether you come and make use of it.

If we get this foundational thing right, then we can build from there. So, it should work the same with teaching the faith to young and old: Sunday School, for example. All that’s required is someone to teach and someone to learn. If we have no teacher or no students, then we don’t have Sunday School that day. But if we cancel, then we are telling people they cannot come learn God’s Word. And we definitely don’t want to send that message.

Here’s how we should think about what we offer as a congregation: Are we proclaiming the Word and offering the Sacrament? Are we teaching the faith? As long as we’re doing those things, then we’re good. And we can keep building and adding on from there as we have opportunity.

That’s what’s required of pastors and required of Christ’s church. But besides the fact that we have these things as commands, we also have great benefits and blessings in regular worship. A recent Gallup poll shows that the only people who reported an improvement in their mental health over the past year are those who attended a religious service every week. Even in this difficult year, those who regularly came to God’s House were able to improve their mental or emotional well–being. That’s wonderful. It’s always good to see how the Church can have a positive impact on life, even just on a secular, human level.

But we who trust in God our Father and His Son our Savior Jesus Christ, we know there are far more important and precious blessings to be gained from attending service every week. Not just for your mental health; there are eternal blessings: forgiveness of sins, new life, union with Christ, the power of the Holy Spirit. These are things that cannot be measured by a poll or study, but we know they are things we really cannot do without.

All of these gifts, all of these blessings are absolutely essential to who we are as the Church because they are all part of Christ’s Advent among us now. His first Advent was when He was conceived in the womb of the virgin, born in Bethlehem, died on Calvary, and rose from the tomb. His final Advent is when He will come again in glory. But just as important as those Advents, is the Advent taking place in His Church as often as we gather—His coming to us in words, water, bread and wine. That first time He came, He accomplished our salvation with His birth, death, and resurrection. The final time He comes, He will bring our salvation to completion with our resurrection from the dead. But now is when He comes delivering salvation to us. Now is the time of His grace given to sinners. And as sinners, we do not want to be stingy with His grace or limit or cancel or postpone His gifts.

Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God. Do not make your own judgments about yourself and your church now. The Lord will reveal His judgment on that final Day. But what we need to be about right now is being faithful, welcoming and meeting our Lord as He comes to us. He does not come now in judgment, but in blessing. So we rejoice at the work of His servants and stewards, we rejoice at His coming in the Word and the Sacrament, all the while eagerly waiting for His glorious return.

Come quickly + Lord Jesus. Amen.

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.