Living Each Moment in Faith - Luke 2: 22-40

Audio file

In a blog called, “Wonderoak,” a mother wrote about the phrase, “Enjoy every moment.” It’s a difficult phrase to agree with, she argues, because there are some things that are pretty hard to enjoy. She said:

Nothing makes me feel quite as overwhelmed as the words “enjoy every minute”.

Like do you mean right now while my kid is spread eagle on the Target floor demanding a slushy? Do you mean when I make dinner and half of the family is crying because it looks weird?...

I can do it; it’s worth it. But enjoying every minute is a different type of pressure.

In truth, there are a whole lot of minutes I feel annoyed or tired.  [1]

The difficulty of “enjoy every moment” is also true for fathers. I will never forget the helpless feeling of holding a child while the anesthesiologist put her to sleep and feeling her go deathly limp. “Daddy, I’m scared…will it hurt when they take my tonsils out?” What do you say to that? There was the week the whole family had the flu, at the same time, and the sewer line decided it was the time to break and back up. I’ve stayed up late and gotten up early. I’ve cried tears of joy and tears of pain and tears of heartache with my kids and for my kids. “Enjoy every moment?”  No…I don’t think so.

This morning’s Gospel lesson gives us St. Luke’s matched bookend to the Christmas narrative. What began with the Angel Gabriel appearing to Mary and telling her that she would become the Mother of God, giving birth to a child by the power of the Holy Spirit, now ends when Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus go to Jerusalem to offer sacrifices of purification. There, in the Temple, was another strange messenger of God. This, not a heavenly angel, but an old man who had been patiently and prayerfully waiting for God’s promises to be fulfilled. We don’t know much about him, other than Simeon had waited in patient faith for Messiah. He is probably most well known for the song that he sings. We call it the Nunc Dimittis, after the Latin translation of the first few words he sang, “Lord, let me depart in peace.” We sang these words in our midweek services: “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word…” Those words thank God for allowing Simeon to see the fulfillment of God’s promises, in allowing him the baby Jesus.

If you will allow a little bit of creative license, I imagine Mary and Joseph beaming with pride as this man of God sings about their son. After all, the last 9 months had been filled with wonder as angels spoke, shepherds arrived, and the news that her son was God’s Son. Simeon’s song was yet another beautiful moment for them to enjoy and to want to remember forever.

Or is it?

Before the echoes of his melody fade away, Simeon adds this:  “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce your own soul, also) so that the thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” With these words, Simeon identifies that Jesus life and ministry will be neither easy nor peaceful. Because of His preaching, people will react strongly towards Jesus – some favorably in faith, some in curiosity, and some in angry denial. He will be opposed by the religious and civil leaders who will go so far as to have Jesus arrested and falsely convicted for heresy. Before He has taken his first steps, the cross is already being spoken about, being teased from the shadows into the periphery of Mary’s view of her Son. In fact, the Cross will not only be for Jesus. A sword – in the form of the cross - will pierce Mary’s own heart as she stands at the foot of the cross and hears her Son say, “It is finished.”

I do not think this would be a moment that Mary would want to recall. No parent would want to think of such things and remember them…not while holding their newborn in their arms. Yet, this is God’s plan of salvation, enfleshed for the entire world.

It’s tempting for us to try to hold on to the romance of Christmas. Filled with the beautiful, majestic message of the angels, Christmas Eve was filled with beauty, wonder, and joy. We left here to go to our homes where gifts waited under the tree, families gathered to celebrate, and the smells of Christmas ham made hungry stomachs growl.

We realize this, in a small way. The presents are already assimilated into our homes and toy boxes. The wrapping paper has been recycled. Already, just a few days later, many of us have already taken down the Christmas tree. The ornaments are boxed up; the lights are dark; the stockings – once full – now are in a pile in the corner. It’s funny…Christians lament how early stores put up their Christmas displays in November, but we’re right with them when it comes time to move on.

I don’t say that to make anyone feel guilty. We did it last night, too. And, as we were packing up the ornaments I came across this one: a baby Jesus in the manger. But hanging under the manger is a small sign. In the center of the sign is a cross with the word “Sacrifice” across it. This ornament is titled “Sacrifice/Life.” It could just as easily be titled “The Song of Simeon.” Simeon will not leave us at the manger. Simon pulls us from the “peace on earth and good will among men” of Christmas Eve to the reality that that peace will only be restored between God and man by the death of this boy in his arms. Simeon takes us from manger to cross where Jesus’ name will be on display. Remember: Jesus means “Savior.”

Did Mary and Joseph understand all of this on that day in the temple? Did they know what Simeon was talking about? The crosses that they passed by as they entered Jerusalem…did they have any idea that one of those crosses would one day be their son’s throne as King of the Jews? Could they even begin to understand how difficult it would be to “enjoy every moment” of Jesus life and ministry? I don’t know. I don’t think so. What I do know is that the Scriptures tell us that Mary and Joseph remained faithful, trusting the promises of God for them and for all of God’s people.

In her blog, (see previous reference) the Wonderoak writer said this:

Being a mom is hard work, and that’s okay. It’s okay to admit it. It’s okay to cry about it and to vent about it. That doesn’t make us bad at this, and it doesn’t mean we love our kids any less.

It makes us human.

You do not need to understand everything in the Scriptures to be God’s people. There will be days that life doesn't make sense over and against the life of faith. You may cry about it and vent about it. That doesn’t make you a bad Christian, or that you love Jesus less, or that He looks down on you as a less-than other Christians. There are things contained in the Bible, things about the Christian faith that I do not understand, to be honest. God does not call us to understand; He calls us to faith as His people. As we stand on the cusp of a new year, perhaps that is the greatest thing for us to remember today. We – like Mary and Joseph – have no idea of what this earthly life has in store for us or our families. There will be times that we want to “enjoy every moment” of what is taking place; and there will be moments that we will wish we could forget forever. Wherever that moment falls, whatever that moment may be, believe and take comfort in this: the Bethlehem Babe is also the Christ of the Cross and Lord of Life. I didn't pay attention to the ornament last night. I only noticed this today: on the back of the cross and "Sacrifice" side is an empty tomb that reads "Life." Because He is Jesus – Savior – and because you are baptized into Him, you are able to look through the cross, through your own grave, and into eternity where truly you will enjoy every moment.

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[1] https://wonderoak.com/2017/12/22/please-stop-telling-moms-to-enjoy-every-minute/

Christmas Eve Sermon

Here is tonight's audio of our Christmas Eve sermon.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1RWexbeW5vq21XaYA3Zks9ZE9i_-nkLeJ/view?usp=drivesdk

God bless us, one and all.

The Night Before Christmas - South Texas style

'Twas the night before Christmas, in Texas, you see. 
From forest to mountains to flatland prairie. 
Wrapped up in their quilts, my family asleep, 
Their eyes were closed tight, their breathing was deep. 
  
We had our stockings, nailed there, on the wall,
Hung with excitement that Santa would call.
And me? I was watching the Christmas tree lights
When all of the sudden, I stood with a fright.

I saw through the window: with lights like the sun,
Was a loaded down pickup, comin’ on at a run, 
It sparkled and glistened in the clear Texas night, 
With three dogs, riding shotgun, it made such a sight. 
  
He called ‘em by name: “Butch, Heidi and Wyatt, 
There'll be plenty of riding for y’all; just sit tight." 
The driver wore Levi's and a shirt that was red, 
Had a light silver Stetson perched ‘top of his head. 
  
As he stepped from the Chevy, he was really a sight, 
His beard and his moustache, were curly and white. 
As he burst in the door, my family awoke, 
And me? I was speechless. Not one of us spoke. 
  
He looked at our tree, and our lights; gave a nod
And said, “But y’all know – tonight is really how God
In His love sent His Son to save you from sin
Eternal redemption and life for you He will win.”

Then softly, and lowly, we sang Silent Night
Then Joy to the World, and then said “Good night.”
As he stepped into his Chevy, my son moved his jaws
And asked in a whisper, "Are you Santa Claus?" 
  
"Am I the real Santa? Well, what do you think?" 
And he smiled as he gave a mysterious wink. 
Then he leaned out his window, and called back in his drawl, 
"Christ Jesus is born! Merry Christmas, Y’all!" 

Family Christmas Letter

It’s the Friday before Christmas. Sounds like the perfect time to take a minute or three and write a brief Christmas letter – mostly because if I wait much later, it will no longer be a Christmas letter but an after Christmas letter!

Haven't aged a bit...

Most of you know that this summer the Meyer family moved from Crosby, Texas to a small community outside of Victoria. Why would a family with two teenagers and a 20 year old move from a suburb of Houston, with all of it’s metropolitan attraction, to a county that has fewer than 50,000 people?

Well, it’s so that I could fulfill my lifelong aspiration of starting a biker bar. The ministry got too mundane and the clothing options were too dull – black, black, black. I now get to break up knife fights, referee pool and dart games, wear beer company T-shirts without sleeves and slide bottled beer down a 30 foot bar while yelling “Inbound!” Yeah, the tatoos hurt – I had to prove myself, you know – but now everyone knows how much I love my Mommy. The leathers were expensive, but the teal makes my eyes pop. And, now that I have my Vespa bored out, I’m putting almost 43 horses to the ground in an intimidating whisper. I even spun the tire last night in soft sand before I sat on it. I think I’m earning the guys’ respect. Why, just last week they stopped laughing every time I sing when Cher comes on the jukebox on Kareoke night.

Laura is adapting well to being a Biker Momma. She works for the local education district during the day. It did raise a few eyebrows the first time she visited a school with a piece of logging chain for a purse strap, but the Skoal can in her back pocket and the tobacco stain at the corners of her mouth pretty well silenced the naysayers. Let’s just say no one has been able to complain twice. At night, when she works the bar for me, she can swear bad enough that Tiny and Carl both blush. Apparently, those years of teaching 6^th graders have really paid off.  

Alyssa has finally turned a corner in college. The University of Alabama will never be the same. She applied to the MBA program this fall. Her entrance essay, “How gambling is a profitable solution for student debt,” has gotten a lot of attention, she said. We got a phone call that both the dean of students and the president of the university have made appointments with her in January. In fact, they said the FCC and U.S. Department of Education want to sit in on the meeting. I think that FCC stands for Federally Certified Currency. Maybe they’re the ones doing this Bitcoin thing I keep hearing about. This is going to be big!  

Megan is doing remarkably well at school. I am so proud of her. Her grades are outstanding and she is developing a real knack for floral design. Her teacher expressed some “concern,” she said, for her creative use of marijuana in her Thanksgiving display but I told her it was synthetic - just artificial leaves. The teacher was so embarrassed that she blushed bright red. The display got a lot of attention – even the Sheriff’s Department wanted to see her work. She got her picture taken for the local paper and everything! We should be able to enjoy a few hours with her at Christmastime over a lunch of Moon Pies and Cokes from the vending machine.

And Christopher is a chip off the old block. He’s chopped his bicycle and is making money, hand over fist, selling “loaner” parts to bikers whose bikes suddenly have a distributor cap or spark plug wire disappear from the parking lot. You know those machines at gas stations that cost about a buck fifty to air up tires? He “found” one in town and, using a YouTube video, rewired it a bit. I’m not sure how he fixed it, but bikers have to keep coming in for more change when their tires mysteriously go flat.

Speaking of, Bart – we call him Sheriff; his grandmother's Dutch – just came in for the fourth dollar’s worth of quarters and he’s starting to give me the stink eye. I think I better go punch up Cher on the juke box, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.  

Now that I got your attention, in a nut-shell, we’re all doing very well. We really did move to Victoria – not for a biker bar, but to serve a new church: Zion Lutheran in Mission Valley. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of the community I grew up in and the fit has been good. It’s a place where my skills fit with what is needed, and I am being challenged – in the good sense – and stretching my muscles in ways I haven’t done before. Laura works for the Education Service District that covers something like 40 school districts. Her years in the classroom are paying off, as she now provides training for secondary education teachers in areas of English, reading, and writing. She likes what she does, but it is challenging.

Alyssa is in her junior year at the University of Alabama, continuing in the mechanical engineering program. She really has applied for MBA school; we’re waiting to see if she has been accepted. It’s always interesting listening to her talk about what she is learning – it’s beyond what I ever imagined as a young man in school, and I find it a fascinating world of learning. Megan is also a junior, but in high school. She has done well transitioning from one school to another. She is zeroing in on her interest in animal care and is working towards a certification process that would lead to veterinary tech certification. Yes, she is also actually taking a floral arrangement class and she does have a knack for that as well. Perhaps a summer job will be in line, using that skill. Christopher had a great fall and started off with a bang – or a tackle, as it were. He got to play football for the first time as starting linebacker for the 7^th grade B team. Although his team didn’t log a single win, he had a good season, making several solo tackles. His hopes of catching an offensive pass (or is that catching a pass offensively?) didn’t quite happen. Always next year, bud!

The big news this fall was, of course, Hurricane Harvey. We evacuated to my mom’s house in Walburg and watched in fascination as the reports came out of this area of winds that were over 100 miles per hour, and then the storm just slowly ground around here for a couple days. It left, in its wake, devastation continues to be cleaned up even now – four months later. Homes are still tarped; trees are still down; fences are still broken; some homes are still  not able to be lived in. We are thankful: our house didn’t even have a scratch. Our inconvenience was that the DirectTV receiver was torqued a few degrees so that we didn’t have high-def channels for a week, and our internet antenna had to be replaced. Comparatively speaking, it is only worth mentioning as a humorous anecdote.

In all things, we are grateful that the Lord has led us to this place. We do miss our friends from Crosby and think of them, and our church family there, often and with fondness. We also don’t get to see our families as much as we would like. Hopefully, 2018 will allow us a little more freedom to do so as we continue to settle in here.

To all who are receiving this via email, please do so with my apologies. Poor planning on our part has led us to neither write nor mail this out in good time, so we are having to resort to the US Mail’s replacement: the “neutral” internet. From our family to yours, we pray God’s richest blessings to you this Christmastide and into the New Year.

With all our love, and with prayers for peace and joy,

The Meyer Family

Witnessing the Advent of Jesus with John - John 1:1-8, 19-28

Audio link

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” With that question, an individual is sworn into his or her place as an eyewitness in court. His or her task is relatively simple: truthfully describe what it is that they saw or heard in the context of the case at hand. This is called “testimony.” When giving their testimony, witnesses are not to editorialize, infer, or embellish. To borrow from Joe Friday, they are to give “just the facts, ma’am.”

But witnesses aren’t just in court. We witness – that is, we see, observe and hear – all sorts of things all around us, some good and some not so good. We witness the birth of a child; we witness the arrival of family home for the holidays; we witness a powerful storm; we witness the death of a dear friend. And, human nature being what it is, we naturally want to, we need to tell what it is we have seen.

But, as Christians, we are called to be witnesses every day. This question was asked in the high school Sunday school class today: “When has God provided opportunities for you to witness through your faith in action?” When has God provided opportunities for you to witness through your faith in action?

Let me tell you my story of when God provided an opportunity to witness my faith through action. I was standing in line at Ted Drews frozen custard stand in St. Louis, Missouri. It was a blisteringly hot and muggy day. Laura was waiting in the car trying to stay comfortable – I cannot remember if she was pregnant with Alyssa or Alyssa was a baby. I was wearing a T-shirt from my college days that had a Latin phrase on it that meant “Soundness of Body, Soundness of Mind” and it had a pencil sketch that represented the eyes of Jesus, his nose shaped like a cross, and surrounded by a crown of thorns. I was standing there, minding my own business and trying to determine what flavor of custard to get, when someone tapped me on my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said, “but what does your shirt mean?” Ah ha! A bold witness opportunity for the sake of the Gospel! I turned around and mumbled something about a college T-shirt, intramurals, and the theme of our overall wellness. I turned back around, and started glaring at the menu board. Surely, this guy would see I was busy. It took only a few seconds, though, before he tapped me again. I was about 6’4”, 250 – a good sized man – so I stretched a little taller, turned around and looked down at the man and said, “Yeeesssss?” He said, “But, what’s with the face in the middle?” I deliberately waited about four beats before answering, “It’s supposed to be Jesus.” And brave, bold, soon-to-be pastor Seminarian Meyer turned back around, crossed his arms, and succeeded in being left alone.

Had he been there, John the Baptizer would have been rightly ashamed of me. It wasn’t like I was called before the religious authorities, demanding to know why I was preaching a message they didn’t like. It wasn’t like I had been hauled before a judge demanding to know what I was doing in public. It wasn’t like I was on death row, my life threatened, and our way of life endangered. This was custard; this was a question about a T-shirt.

Here was John, hauled before the priests and Levites and quizzed. “Who are you?” they demanded, presumably to trap him into admitting he was the Christ (which is the Greek word for Hebrew, Messiah). Then they could convict him of blasphemy. Last week I told you that the Baptizer was the last of the Old Testament prophets, saying Jesus was coming. This week, he becomes the first of the New Testament evangelists, the first to be able to say, “He is here!” The Baptizer gets himself out of the way…he is not the Christ, he is not Elijah, nor is he THE Prophet (another phrase for the Messiah, though to be the second Moses). John the Baptizer is the preparer, the one sent to make straight the path of the Lord. He confesses – confess means to repeat back what was told to you already – He confesses that one is coming after him whose sandals he is unworthy to untie. The Baptizer is preparing the way by speaking of the Christ to come. God provided the opportunity – even if it was uncomfortable, standing before the religious authorities – for John to witness his faith in action. By the power of God’s Spirit, John spoke clearly, boldly and directly so that there was no doubt: he, John, wasn’t the Christ, but the Christ is coming and coming soon.

Let’s go back to the question again. “When has God provided opportunities for you to witness through your faith in action?” It doesn’t have to be a moment like John, or even a moment like mine. God provides the opportunity to show faith in Christ in both direct and indirect ways.

Sometimes God gives us such an open, obvious way to share our faith that it’s impossible not to see. But, we chose to ignore the opportunity or not engage in conversation out of fear. We don’t want to be the “religious nut,” or “that guy.” We hide behind the statement, “We don’t want to offend,” but what we really mean is “We don’t want to feel offended when our friends reject the message.” After all, we’re taught not to talk politics or religion. So, we chose to not be the witness because we don’t want to ruffle feathers.

To us, John would speak. And he would call us back to our baptisms and tell us to repent. Repent for not trusting the very Gospel that we are called to share. Repent of denying the very faith that trusts Christ at all times and in all places, except in *that* moment. John would say, “Speak. Be a witness. Be the one who dares to speak of Christ.”

So the Lord gives us those opportunities.

Here’s a direct way: Some friends invite you to go to lunch at a Hooter’s restaurant. You are free in the Gospel to eat anywhere you want, and you know that, but it makes you uncomfortable as a Christian man to be in a place like that. So, without dodging the issue, you say, “I’m not comfortable eating there because it violates my Christian conscience about the role of women in God’s creation. I don’t want that to be my Christian witness.” Here’s another direct way: a friend got back from vacationing in Tennessee and went to see the Creation Museum. As she is talking about her trip with a group of other friends, some of the friends start laughing, “You don’t really believe that old wive’s tale about an angry God who flooded the world, do you?” This time of the year, you’re given a natural point of entrée into a conversation, “Do you know what Christmas is all about?” That’s a direct way to have a Christian witness.

But there are also what I call indirect ways. Perhaps a better word would be subtle, not indirect. You live out the faith each day. In faith, you honor your parents and confess when you sin against them. You live out the faith when you respect your boss or your teachers, even if they are less than kind. In faith, you do not take what isn’t yours but seek to protect the belongings of others. In faith, you helped children who were less fortunate by purchasing them a gift of clothes or toys, done out of love. Your witness is lived out when you pray for the hurting. It doesn’t have to be big, or dramatic, or even John-the-Baptizer-preaching-in-public bold. You live out a life of Christian witness when you change a child’s loaded diaper; you demonstrate Christian faith when you tell your spouse “I love you” and give them a kiss, hug, or just a hand squeeze. You demonstrate Christian witness even when you lovingly discipline your child because you are faithfully fulfilling your vocation as a parent. People see this, and they see your Christian witness, and when they ask “Why do you do that?” You can be bold to witness in Christian faith – “Because of God’s love for me in Christ.”

To be a Christian witness does take one thing: having eyes and ears open, in faith, for those opportunities to be a witness of what you know of Christ and to demonstrate His love through you. And sometimes, it will come at the most surprising and untimely of places.

A couple years ago, I had been to a pastor’s installation service. It was late in the day, the service was long, and I just wanted to get home. I stopped at a Burger King to get a bite. I remember this distinctly: as I took my cross and clerical collar off and put it in my truck cup holder, I literally prayed, “God…I just want to be left alone tonight. I’m tired and hungry and just want to get home.” About five steps from the truck, I saw it happening in slow motion: a man rolled up on his bicycle, leaned it against the wall, and stood there and in that moment, I knew what was about to happen. God was about to answer my prayer with a big, fat “NO.” “’Scuze, me, mister…I’m sorry to bother you. I’ve been riding this bike all day, trying to get home. I think I can get there by sundown, but I just can’t go no further. I’m hungry and haven’t eaten all day. Could you please get me a small burger?” I sighed repentantly, knowing I had just been humbled by God Himself. I bought him dinner and invited him to sit with me. I told him I was going to pray over the meal and asked what he would like to pray for. He said, “Thank God that he sent you.” I smiled and said, “I was thinking the same thing…thanking God that he sent you.” We prayed, ate, and talked. I slipped him a few dollars and we parted company. I never saw him again, and I’ve always wondered, as Hebrews 13:2 says, if that evening I wasn’t in the company of an angel.

We’re called as Advent Christians to be like John the Baptizer, to be prepared to answer when asked. We’re not necessarily called to be missionaries or preachers, but we are all called to answer. This Christmastide, God grant you His Spirit, that you may be bold to answer as a witness for Jesus, the coming King.

Shepherds following Shepherds - Luke 2:1-20

Circuit Meeting
December 12, 2017
Zion Lutheran Church – Mission Valley, TX

Shepherds following Shepherds
Luke 2:1-20

In the name of Christ, our Coming King: Grace, mercy and peace be yours, dear Brothers.

This time of year, our attention is laser-focused toward Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We look forward to that joyous night of celebration when we join Linus in reading Luke 2 – in good, KJV of course. In our minds we travel back to O Little Town of Bethlehem where Gentle Mary Laid Her Child, tucked Away in a Manger, truly A Great and Mighty Wonder to behold. Once, in Royal David’s City, Of the Father’s Love Begotten, It Came Upon A Midnight Clear as Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. Candles are lit, the lights are bumped down and, soto voce, a capella, we remember the Silent Night when alles schleft, einsem vacht. As the final “Amen” echoes through the church, there is a sense that – if only for a moment – there truly is peace on earth and goodwill toward men.

Helpless romantics that we are, we view the characters in the Nativity drama through the Biblical lens. First, our attention is naturally drawn to Mary and Joseph – after all, they are the newly minted parents. Mary as anthropotokos (mother of man) and theotokos (mother of God) will always inspire both majesty and awe – even Mary herself wondered how this could be, that God would chose her from among the least of the women of Israel. Mary delivered the Bread of Life in the House of Bread. Joseph as step-father to God’s own Son, yet – we speculate – burdened with the shame he might have felt as people whispered about his wife “hooking up” with someone before they were properly married. A cursory glance is tossed at Herod the Great – both because it was his decree that God used to have Jesus delivered in Bethlehem, and because he was the monster who had a unknown number of babies and toddlers murdered trying to hunt down Jesus. Again, because of the romantic mis-notion, folks will also include the wise men, the magi, but they probably didn’t arrive for quite some time yet. We certainly can’t forget the angels – both the lead spokesperson and the whole, heavenly hosts who follow Gabriel’s lead in disturbing the peace with the message of peace.

So let’s see…Mary – check; Joseph – check; Herod – check; wise men – in waiting, but check; the angels – check; and we might as well toss the hotel manager in the mix, too. Who’s missing?

The shepherds. Ah, yes, the lowly, smelly, grubby shepherds who spend day and night camping out with the lowly, smelly, loud and obnoxious sheep. Those stubborn animals who look so cute and cuddly when they are little lambs but who quickly become wooly terrors, causing lost hours of sleep as the shepherd hunts down the lost and wandering critter. Shepherds weren’t much to brag on, socially speaking. It sure didn’t take much education to herd sheep. Shampoo, shower and shaving were optional and, I bet, were infrequently utilized. As my son used to ask, “Why should I shower? I’m just gonna get stinky later, anyway!”

But those shepherds have a very special place in the history of God’s plan of salvation. God gave the protoevangelium to Adam and Eve, but He first gave the evangelium to the Shepherds. They were the first recipients of the Good News of Jesus’ birth. (We should, at this time, pause and give thanks that God did not send the angels to a bunch of red-necks from East Texas, or the angels would have been shot, stuffed, and mounted on the walls of a double-wide.) “Unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord.” No greater news had been heard by human ears. The Savior, the Meshiach, for whom the world had long waited – promised to Abraham, Isaac, David, Isaiah, and Micah – had finally arrived. Not in a palace in Jerusalem, but in a manger in Bethlehem; not to a King and Queen, but to a Jewess and a Carpenter. Not to be served, but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.

Why would he chose shepherds, of all people, to be so blessed? Why uneducated sheep herders to be the first evangelists? Well, a better question is why not? It is how God works – He raises up the humble; He honors those who deserve no honor; He blesses those whom the world overlooks.

Allow me a moment of homiletic speculation. Bear in mind: this is extra-textual; just a little preacher’s license, if you will. Here is my theory why I think God chose shepherds as his first Gospel witnesses. I think its because shepherds understand faithfulness, taking care of the sheep entrusted to them. I think it's because they understand being a servant to their master. I think it is because they knew what hard work was. They were used to working hard in order to take care of critters in their care who didn’t always care. They were fearless, going out into the dark and against unknown wild animals to rescue the lost sheep. And, they were used to talking to critters who didn’t always want to listen. With those kinds of skills, they would be well served as evangelists. They would be going out into a dark world that didn’t always want to hear about, or who didn’t care about, the birth of this boy named Jesus. After all, folks were busy just trying to survive.  

But the Lord doesn’t just give them a wonderful message and a sight to behold – although either of those would have been more than enough. He gives them His Spirit. These rough-around-the-edges shepherds become the world’s first evangelists. What they have received, they must share; what they have been given, they must pass on.

Dear brothers: there is much to do before we, too, can enjoy the romance of the Christmas narrative on Christmas Eve and Day. There is a measure of emotional, mental, and even spiritual baggage that comes with the vocation of ministry this time of the year. Christmas becomes so much work that it is tempting for us to lose the baby in the manger, the Savior of the World born for you. We have sermons to finish writing, shut-in visits to make, hospital calls to attend to, LWML parties to drop in on, a long-planned wedding or a sudden funeral, carols to sing, bulletins to prepare and proof, perhaps a voters or council meeting to squeeze in as well, and a couple more services to lead before we celebrate and remember the arrival of the Christ child. There will be the marriage crisis, the request for financial assistance, balancing our own perilous budget, and the sick family member. Our kid’s Christmas program at school and our grandkid’s band concert vie for calendar time among all of the other events. The wonder and amazement of the Nativity can get lost, frankly, among the “professional” pastoral duties we perform and all of our family commitments we must keep. It’s tempting to become jaded; it’s enough to make us toss up our hands and quit; it’s tempting to grow immune to the power of the Christmas sermon delivered to the shepherds.

So, before you speak of the Christ of Christmas to others, hear the Christ of Christmas for yourself. Brothers, just as the angels spoke the Gospel to the shepherds, I speak it to you today: Unto you – read your own name here – unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord.

God has called you to be his shepherds of the flocks whom you serve. He has richly blessed you with the understanding of the mysteries of God that are contained in Scripture, including Christ’s Navitity, so that the Christmas narrative isn’t just a romantic tale told by Grandpa around the fireplace. You have received the Good News that Christ is yours and, more importantly, you are Christ’s. He was born for you.

Follow in the footsteps of the shepherds. What you have received, you deliver. You go out into the world of darkness and speak the light of Christ to sheep that sometimes wander, sometimes are ornery, sometimes become belligerent, sometimes get downright rude. Yet they are given us to care for, as they are Christ’s little lambs for whom He died.

Follow in the footsteps of the shepherds this Advent and Christmastide. God bless you with His Spirit of strength and peace. Fear not…for unto you is born a Savior who is Christ the Lord.

Mark 1: 1-8 - John the Baptizer Points Us to Jesus

December 10, 2017
Advent 2
Zion Lutheran Church - Mission Valley, TX
Rev. Jonathan F. Meyer, Pastor

"St. John the Baptizer Points Us to Jesus"
Audio file

I like St. Mark’s portrayal of John the Baptizer. He’s simple; there’s nothing complex about him. Mark just drops John into the story – sort of a first century Melchizedek – and out into the desert John goes, preaching and baptizing. Even his ruggedness is a little less trough, I guess you would say, only getting a quick nod to his rustic appearance and paleo diet. St. Mark’s sermon notes of John’s preaching are simple, also, as he describes John’s sermons: “There is one coming after me who is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie.”

Yes…that’s the kind of Baptizer that I like: rugged enough on the outside, but kind of soft and cuddly down deep. Not too challenging; not too edgy. None of that “Brood of vipers” preaching as recorded by St. Matthew. None of that discussion about how Jesus can raise up sons of Abraham from stones as St. Luke notes. No, Mark gives us a John who is safe. I like him – we like him – because he seems, well…safe.

And, that’s how we like God’s Word, too – isn’t it? We like it soft and safe, too. We like the 23^rd Psalm, and the Lord’s Prayer, and the Beatitudes. We like Jesus’ baptism, and we like His miracles. We like Peter preaching at Pentecost and Paul converting the Corinthians. We love the romance of the Christmas narrative, and our hearts pound on Easter morning with the cries of “Christ is risen, He is risen indeed, Alleluia!” We like taking our Scriptures a sentence at a time for Portals of Prayer, and we like a quick recollection of a Sunday school story we heard – it’s fuzzy in our memory, but we remember the simple color cartoon-like picture of Jesus laying his hands on the children. To paraphrase a Sears commercial from 20 years ago, we like the softer side of the Word. Don’t push me, don’t challenge me, and no matter what you do, don’t correct me and call out what I want to do. Don’t call my freedom into question, don’t dare declare my choice a sin and everything is going to be A-OK.

A safe John the Baptizer, delivering a safe and fuzzy word of God…Easy-peasy, Advent squeezy.

Or is he? Is John safe? Is he going to just let us be, leave us alone, to do what we want to do while he sits idly back and watches? If that’s your idea of John the Baptizer and his preaching, then be prepared.

That’s exactly what John came to do: prepare. John was anything but safe, soft, and gentle. He was the last of the Old Testament prophets who spoke into the wilderness, declaring “Thus sayeth the Lord!” He was big and bold, even for a prophet, preaching the way Jeremiah and Ezekiel and Isaiah preached. There was thunder in his voice and fire in his words. He saw the lives of his contemporary Israelites – both people and leaders – and it wasn’t a life of faith, but a life of farce. It was no longer about trusting in the promises of God given to the prophets of old; it was about trusting that they were doing all of the “right” things to please God. It was about living their lives as sons of Abraham, instead of living as children of God.

John saw it and he called the people out – out of their sins, out of their comfort, out of their daily routines – and he called them out to the wilderness. The wilderness. There’s a stark reality to wilderness. Get down to deep, deep south Texas or west, west Texas and get off the main roads. There, you get a sense of wilderness. There is nothing there – no one, nothing to trust except God’s mercy and grace. And, there in the wilderness John preaches, thundering, calling God’s people back to faith, back to trust, away from their self-centered lives of contentedness and back to what God has declared will come.

His message was harsh to soft ears; the words hard on his tongue, cutting deeply into the hearts of the people. Repent. Return to the Lord your God. Turn away from your sinfulness. Turn away from your soft-serve reading of the Prophets. Turn away from your selfishness. Turn away and turn to God’s grace and mercy. He is faithful; He is always willing to receive those who repent, in faith, and return to Him.

As a sign of God’s faithfulness and His mercy, John baptized those who came out to him. A washing of repentance, it was more than just a symbolic gesture. It was delivery of God’s grace – the same grace that had poured out abundantly on the ancient Israel in the wilderness at the rock of Moriah, when water rushed forth to quench thirsty mouths, John stood in the Jordan river, baptizing to quench the aching hearts, souls and consciences troubled at His preaching.

This gift is for you, John was saying. God’s mercy is for you – all of you who know, believe, and trust that God has your eternal welfare at heart; who trust the promises of God in Messiah who is to come; who believe that God will rescue and redeem in His marvelous way; who wait for His arrival – God’s mercy is for you who realize how desperately you need a Savior. He is coming…He is coming soon.

That was John. He was not safe, nor was he soft. But He was God’s faithful servant of the Word. John was the last of the breed – the final Old Testament prophet who would preach a Messiah to come. He was foretelling how God would act in time in sending the one long-ago promised to Adam and Eve, Moses, David, Isaiah and Malachi.

In our modern day and age, there are too many who are content to follow after the soft-and-fuzzy John the Baptists, with sugary sweet speeches of encouragement that are far, far removed from the John of the Jordan. John will not let us do this. John will not let us be lackadaisical in our lives of faith. He calls us back to the wilderness – back to God’s Word – and John speaks to us with the same message for today: Repent.

Repent. It’s a word we don’t like to hear. Our itching ears lead to believe that our freedoms, our choices, our opinions, our feelings are paramount. The world tells us it’s all about the unholy trinity – me, myself and I. Our own sinful flesh bites and believes, hook line and sinker, that whatever that trinity wants, it should get. John calls us and says “Repent. Turn away from your selfish desires. Turn away from your wants. Turn away from your greed. Turn away from your arrogance. It’s not about you; it’s about Jesus.  Stop pretending you can save yourself. Stop pretending that you can be your own Messiah. Repent. Return to the Lord your God for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”

We hear that word “repent,” and we think that means we have to be sad all the time to show how sorry we are. That’s not it at all. Repent doesn’t mean we must become Lutheran Eeyore’s. Repent means turning away from our sinfulness and, by the grace of God’s Spirit, be returned to following  His Word. It means trusting that we live in God’s grace and we are fully and freely forgiven – not because we demonstrate how sorry we are with hang-dog looks, but because Jesus died for you. His death covers all of your sins. Your greed, your arrogance, your self-trust…in faith, trust that Jesus died and carried all of that to the cross.

There was nothing “soft” about that moment. It was the harsh, hard, reality of God’s justice: the perfect payment of an innocent man for the sins of the unfaithful, sin-stained world. Jesus, taking into Himself the sins of the entire world, dying the condemned death of the damned so that you and I would not have to.

Repentance turns to the cross where Jesus died and says, “I believe that cross is where Jesus paid my price. And because He did that, I am forgiven.”

That’s the John the Baptizer that St. Mark gives us. Simple, yes, but not simplistic; neither soft nor fuzzy. He keeps John as a simple character so he doesn’t get in the way of Jesus.

Is John safe? Of course, not. But he is good. He’s the Prophet, the baptizer, the forerunner who calls us back to the coming King.

Waiting in Advent Expectation - Mark 11:1-11

Advent Waiting - Mark 11:1-11

Audio file

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The word advent means “to come.” We pray for Jesus’ advent – His coming – often; so often, in fact, that we probably lose that we are even saying it. Do you know it’s in the Lord’s Prayer? “Thy kingdom come” – perhaps the Latin makes it clearer: “adveniat voluntus tuum.” “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest and let thy gifts to us be blessed,” is prayed at many of our tables. In the season of Advent, our hymnody will pick up the cry as well. “O Come, o come, Emmanuel,” will be the focus of our midweek Advent series this year as we join the church of ancient days in this prayer. In fact, the very last sentence in the Bible is, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.”

You pray this daily, sometimes a couple times a day, asking Jesus to come. Do you believe that he will? I think so. After all, we don’t just pray it, but we also say it in the Creeds, that we believe He will come to judge the living and the dead. We should believe this, because it was Jesus’ own promise: “Behold, I am coming soon!” (Rev. 22:7) To make sure we know and believe this, He repeats himself “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay everyone for what he has done. I am the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end,” (Re. 22:12-13).

But, do you expect it? Do you expect Jesus to return “soon”? I’m not splitting hairs, here, as to what “soon,” means so let’s keep it simple: do you expect Jesus to return today, this week, this month? I think the answer is “probably not.” At best, we’ve been lulled into ambivalence by Jesus’ long delay; at worst, the world has duped us into almost not caring. While we believe Jesus is coming, we have lost the sense of expectation, urgency, and even desire. We’re so busy enjoying this life that we are forgetting about the life of the world to come when He returns.

This morning’s Gospel lesson is most commonly known as the Palm Sunday reading, also known as the Passion of our Lord. You may have been wondering if I had the right Gospel lesson, even – after all, that is supposed to be read in the spring, a week before Easter. True. But the early Church chose this text as the first Sunday of Advent to refocus our eyes and our minds on the news that Jesus comes.

St. Mark tells us that at the beginning of Holy Week, with all of it’s own astounding events, Jesus enters Jerusalem to the shouts of the crowds. Shouts of “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the name of the Lord!” echo down the streets while others soften the donkey’s footsteps with their cloaks and palm branches. It was the entry celebration worthy of a king, a man of noble birth, and the welcome arrival of a conqueror and liberator.

After all, they had seen Jesus power over illness: He had restored sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, power to dead limbs and breath to dead bodies. He drove evil spirits out of people and into swine. He calmed storms that threatened to sink ships. And he fed thousands of people with only a boy’s lunch. History tells us that at this point in time, Israel – and especially Jerusalem as the capitol city – was prime for a revolution. Zealots hated the Roman army and government being in their city. Surely, this is the kind of King who could make Israel great again! Lower corporate taxes, get rid of government oversight, reduce public debt, separate church and state and bring dignity back to the palace, just as David had done long ago. Why, this Jesus might be just the guy to back – and maybe he can set us free.

Wait…were those the wants of Ancient Jerusalem, or are those the wants of so many Christians today? Is it perhaps true that we aren’t so different than those ancient Jersualem dwellers, where we expect our own socio-political messiah in our own idea of what Jesus should be like?  Perhaps we should rethink blaming the people of Jerusalem for making such a mistake, such a misunderstanding. After all, if we are honest, we make similar mistakes of what we expect of Jesus’ coming as well. What kind of Jesus are you waiting for? A Jesus who will make you rich and eliminate your debt? A Jesus who can tighten skin wrinkles, rejuvenate hair growth, and burn cellulite? A Jesus who will bring your spouse back? A Jesus who will make your children love you again? A Jesus who will get you the corner office, or the starting lineup, or admission to the perfect college? A Jesus who will make loved ones walk and remember? A few years ago, there was a movie starring Will Farrell where he played a race car driver who was completely brainwashed by fame and fortune. As he and his family sat down to eat, he began to say grace. He said something like this, “Dear sweet little baby Jesus…” His wife interrupted and said, “You know, that baby Jesus grew up and became a man; why do you keep praying to baby Jesus? He said something like, “I don’t like that kind of Jesus… I like the baby Christmas Jesus best,” and resumed praying “Dear Lord, 8 pound six ounce baby Jesus…”

The prayer was a terribly sad commentary on our culture: we pick and chose the kind of Jesus we want. Too often, the world has wanted a political Messiah, one who could put a loaf on every plate and a donkey in every garage. Then, and today, people lose sight of what God’s Messiah is to be: not a socio-political leader of the rebellion, a Jedi from Judah, if you will, who would use God’s power for righting wrongs and putting bad people back in their places. No…God’s Messiah would do those things – yes, but not the way it was expected.

Jesus wasn’t coming to establish a throne; His throne had been established before eternity ever began. He wasn’t coming to overthrow Rome or any political party; He put government in authority as His representative in the first place. He wasn’t coming to make sure no stomach was left behind; He comes to give the Bread of Life to hungry souls. He wasn’t coming to wipe out sickness and disease; He comes to rescue a fallen world from the effects of the fall of sin. He wasn’t coming to fight for land and territory; He comes to rescue His own world. He wasn’t coming to do battle with an army of soldiers; He was coming to defeat Satan once and for all. But the way of this wasn’t power and prestige. It was the way of the cross.  

The cross stands as our Advent reminder. Advent: remember, it means coming. Advent is a season of preparation. It is not yet Christmas. While the world around us has had Christmas trees and lights up since October, the church is still waiting. Don’t get me wrong: you absolutely can say “Merry Christmas,” send and receive Christmas cards, and play your favorite Bing Crosby, Pentatonix, or Barry Manilow Christmas CD. You can put up your tree and deck the halls and start sampling the Christmas fruitcake and eggnog. Nothing wrong with that. But the Church…well, we’re waiting. So, you aren’t going to hear too many Christmas hymns; the readings don’t take us to Bethlehem where this thing has come to pass; we won’t hear of angels and shepherds for a few more weeks. No…the Church waits. We wait in expectation to celebrate Christ’s Nativity because it also serves to help us wait in expectation for Christ’s return.

Waiting is hard work. So, to strengthen us in our waiting, Jesus comes now. In the Lord’s Supper, Christ comes to us in this sacramental way, feeding us on His very body and blood for the forgiveness of our sins and the strengthening of our faith in Him as we wait. Christ, truly present, comes to us in this meal.

I said the world has already moved to Christmas and the church waits, and yet you see the tree and the lights. Yeah…even Christian churches have allowed a taste of Christmas to sneak in. That’s OK. Because what remains, always before us, is the cross. The Cross leads us into Advent. Remember: the reason Jesus entered into time in the Nativity by taking on flesh and blood was to be our Savior from sin. “You shall call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins,” the angel told Joseph. From manger to Cross: Behold: Your Advent king comes.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Come. Amen.