God Meets Us in the Holy Space - Nehemiah 8: 1-10

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago.

Walt Wangerin, Jr., begins his book, The Book of God: The Bible as Novel[1], with this scene:

Now comes Ezra the priest down from the old palace mount, carrying the scrolls in his arms. He enters the square before the Water Gate and passes through a great congregation of people all sitting on the ground. At the far end, they have constructed a wood platform. They’ve built a pulpit for this reading. Ezra ascends the platform, steps to the front, and unrolls the scrolls. Spontaneously, the people rise up. Ezra blesses the Lord. All the people raise their hands and answer, “Amen! Amen!” And then, as they sit down, Ezra the priest begins to read:

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light.’ And there was light.”

Wangerin sets out to locate the reader in a holy space. While it is a novel, a fictional interpretation to tell the story of the God’s promises in the Scriptures, Wangerin wants us to see the Scriptures and the reading of Scripture as holy space. He locates us, along with the people of Israel on that day who sat in front of Ezra, He locates us in the presence of God in the written, read, and preached Word. He puts us in the holy place.

Preaching often gets a bad rap, doesn’t it? It’s often thought of as a dull, boring – but necessary – part of a worship service. I wonder how many Christians wake up on a Sunday morning saying to themselves, “I get to hear a sermon today!” I suspect that’s why many churches have tried using synonyms to replace the words “preaching” and “sermon” with words like “the message,” or “the teaching,” or perhaps a little more sanctified word like “homily,” which is derived from “homiletic,” which is, in fact, the study of preaching. Whatever you call it, and whether you might call it a sermon, a message, or teaching, and whether you call the deliverer the preacher, the proclaimer, or the teacher, the purpose is the same: to locate you in the place of holiness, the place of God’s Word being read and taught, because God is present in those words.

The people of Israel had returned to Jerusalem after decades in Exile in Babylon. A generation has grown up away from the Promised Land, away from the Temple of God, away from the worship life that had been central to God’s people for centuries. The sacrificial altar had not been lit in 50 years to make atonement, and the sacred scrolls of scripture had lain unused, gathering dust in the libraries of the Babylonians and Persians. The people’s memories of God, His Word, and both His commands and promises had, at best, been blurred; at worst, lost. So, one of the first things that needed to be done after the Temple was rebuilt, the people had to be reintroduced to the holy space that was God’s Word.

As Ezra begins to read, slowly and deliberately enunciating each divinely inspired word, his reading an act of love for what is inscribed on the scroll and for Whose words it is. I suspect he may have known the words by heart, but he reads them so to not miss a thing; he reads so the people can be sure and certain as to whose word it is; he reads so the full power and weight of the words fall into the ears of the people. Our translation says he read “the Law,” but don’t think of this as merely the Law as we think of it, Law and Gospel. He reads the Torah, the Navim, the Katavim – the Law, the Writings, the Prophets – the whole Word of God, the whole counsel of God. He read the text in the Hebrew language with which it was written, but the people, having been so long gone from their motherland and their mother tongue, needed it in their more familiar Aramaic, so Ezra translates for them. Then, his eyes raised from the pages, he preaches, proclaims, teaches, explains the words – what they meant to God’s people, their forefathers, and what it means for them as they stand among the rubble of their homeland and the city of David. With the full-throated voice of a prophet, “Thus saith the Lord,” is heard again.

This was new to the people – both the words and the act of reading. They may not have understood all of it, but they understood the significance of it, standing when the scrolls were opened, bowing, humble before the Lord and His Word. As the words sound, moved by both God’s Spirit and God’s Words, they weep. With tears of sorrow, as they hear how God’s Law was broken by them, by their fathers and forefathers, and how He was angered by their sins and they lament the sins that led them into captivity they only recently left. But, there are also tears of joy, hearing God’s faithfulness to His people, remaining, even as they broke the covenant He established with them. The same God, who allowed His people to be driven into captivity, had again rescued them, returning a remnant to the land of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The promise, “I will be your God and you will be my people,” was given new life as the Word was read, translated, and preached to new people, with new ears, with new life.

In that holy space of the Word of God, the people rejoiced in what they heard and in the words they received – words that gave life, mercy and grace to a people who needed to be restored.

As Lutherans, we speak often of the Means of Grace, the ways God delivers His grace, love, mercy, and compassion to us as His people. We usually focus on the Sacraments: Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, both having physical elements connected to the Word. But, I suspect that we sometimes forget the holy space of God’s Word also as a Means of Grace. As we sit in the presence of God’s Word, both Law and Gospel, as it the Word is read to us, as the Word is proclaimed and preached to us, as we read and study it in our homes, that place – this place – becomes holy space as the very words of our Lord are delivered to us, sometimes cutting deeply to expose our sins of omission and commission; other times, binding up those wounds with the balm of grace. God comes to us – in the words on the page, in the vocables from the pastor, in the teaching of Sunday school teachers – and in that moment, we are in a holy space.

I will tell you that it is a powerful thing and a humble thing to stand at the lectern and read the Word, and to be inside the pulpit and proclaim the Word, giving the sense of it for God’s people when it was given and interpreting it for our modern milieu, for you in your life as a child of God. That’s what Ezra was doing and I suspect he was deeply moved, both in the moment but also by the words themselves. Digging into the Scriptures, studying, praying, considering what God says and then delivering that word to you is a daunting thing. Any pastor, any preacher, who doesn’t have at least a little bit of fear and trembling when preaching, doesn’t realize the power of what he is called to do, to speak God’s Word on His behalf, to speak to God’s people, and with those words, to call them to the holy space before God.  It’s been said, if there isn’t at least a measure of fear, he should consider another vocation. Yes, it is a blessing, and yes, it is a gift to be called into ministry, but it is a holy calling for holy work with the Holy Word for holy people.

You’ve heard the old saying, that familiarity brings contempt. I suspect that is true, to a greater or lesser degree, at times when it comes to our attitude towards hearing preaching in the Divine Service. It happens to me, too – another week, another sermon – and it is a temptation to give it a hit and a lick and call it good enough. Perhaps contempt is too strong of a word; loss of curiosity, interest, or desire to hear might be more accurate. Regardless, satan does what he can to keep our ears separated from the Word. Part of it is our sinful nature –our Old Adam and Old Eve has other things to do, seemingly more important, whether it is taking a nap or watching TikToks. Part if it is our culture. Other than in a classroom, where else do we just sit and listen to someone speak for 15 minutes, give or take? Sure, President Trump’s inauguration speech lasted almost 30 minutes Monday, but honestly, how many sat and listened to the whole thing, actively, intentionally engaging with his words for more than a soundbyte? Probably not many. It’s not that we despise God’s Word or the preaching of it, but, well, it’s preaching. When was the last time you asked someone to preach to you? In fact you probably say the exact opposite – don’t preach to me!

Yet, this human act is what God uses to come to His people. Through a human mouthpiece, through human language, God creates a holy place and comes to us.

This should not be a surprise. Last week’s Gospel reading was from John. I love the way John begins His Gospel, making this connection for us: In the beginning was the Word. The Word was with God and the Word was God. The Word, in these verses, is Jesus. John locates us in the holiest of all places: the Word of God is Jesus; in Jesus, the Word of God dwelled among us in flesh. He who was present in the beginning, whose declaration, “Let there be,” brought every thing into existence, spoke with a voice, calling sinners to repentance and faith. Some received the preaching with faith, believing in Him as Savior of the world, the fulfillment of all what Scripture promised. Others could not get past Jesus as the son of Mary and Joseph, and sought to destroy Him as a heretic. And, when He hung on the cross, that voice pled for the forgiveness of those who crucified Him, promised life to the dying criminal, cried out to His Father in agony, yet in faith, and declared the battle against sin, death and satan to be finished. When He rose from the dead three days later, His voice spoke to the disciples, telling them to continue that same message.

Luke puts us in the holy place of Capernaum synagogue as Jesus opens the scroll and reads, declaring the Words of the prophets to be fulfilled in the hearing. The Word became flesh and was among them. What began at Capernaum in the synagogue continues today as the church proclaims that in the reading and preaching of the Word, the Scriptures are fulfilled in your hearing, and in these words, forgiveness, life and salvation are yours by God’s grace through faith.

I had a friend who told me once that he hated to miss church. I kind of puffed up a bit and, expecting a complement about my preaching, I fished a little bit and said something like, “And why is that?” His answer let a little air out of my sails, but it also reminded me of what this sacred vocation is about. With a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face, he simply said, “Because Jesus is there.”

That’s the holy space.

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[1] Wangerin, Walter. 1996. The Book of God: The Bible as a Novel. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, Introduction.

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Jesus in the Small Stuff - John 2: 1-11

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

I was having a conversation with an individual the other day and he said, “I know Jesus cares about me and my family. I know He died on the cross for my salvation. I know He provides daily bread for me. But, you know, some days, it would be nice to know Jesus cares about the little stuff.”

You ever feel like that? You know Jesus has cared for you into eternity, but The check engine light came on while driving to work the other day. That’s going to be a couple hundred bucks, and you’re still paying off the Amazon charges from Christmas. The last quarter’s reports weren’t as good as the company hoped for and your department was given a not-so-subtle suggestion that the numbers could be much better. The tickle that you’ve had in your throat and the nagging cough that has been there since Thanksgiving just won’t go away. We’ve got weather coming and you are, shall we say, in a heightened state of curiosity about the pipes freezing like they did in ’21. Your sibling called and bragged about how great the family is doing, practically a 21^st century Brady Bunch Meets the Huxtables, and meanwhile you feel like you’re stuck in a rerun of the Simpsons meets Peg and Al Bundy. It would be nice to know Jesus cares about the little stuff.

In this morning’s Gospel lesson Jesus is invited to a wedding. That always strikes me as interesting. Here He is, the Savior of the world, God who has taken on flesh to dwell among us, who is doing battle with satan and all of his evil minions, who will face both His mortal death as well as our deserved eternal death, and He takes time to attend a wedding.

In the ancient world, weddings were a week-long event, a celebration that involved the community as well as the families of the bride and groom.  Can you imagine the logistics of planning for this? To run out of food or drink at a wedding in our culture is a terrible embarrassment. In the ancient world, with no easy and rapid way of resupplying, it was a faux pax of the highest order. To run out of wine at only day three of the seven-day feast would forevermore brand this groom as incapable and incompetent.

Over and against this personal disaster, Jesus acts. He changes the water into wine – not just any wine, mind you, but the best of the best.

But it’s just a wedding. Why does Jesus care? It’s just some wine. It’s just a moment of embarrassment. This is small potatoes. It’s not like other narratives we know, other times when Jesus steps in, life-and-death moments like the centurion’s servant who was dying, or the demon-possessed boy who threw himself into the fire, or the 5000 who could riot if not fed. It’s surely not as important as Lazarus who was 3-days dead in the tomb.

So, why? Why does Jesus act? Jesus does this to fulfill the Law: Love your neighbor.

The Law is a funny thing. We think of the Law as being bad but, in truth, that’s because we look at the Law through the back-side. We look at the Law through our sinful nature. What I mean is when we get caught, the Law is bad. You get a ticket for speeding, you get caught sneaking out of work early, the teacher discovers you used AI for your paper, and we grumble and grouse about the “stupid rules.” The image we often have of God is like the stern Uncle Sam, pointing his finger at us. Rather, we should have a mental image of a father gently teaching and instructing his children. The law, both man’s law and God’s Law are good. In the case of God’s Law, it is, in fact, holy. The purpose of the Law is to prescribe how God’s people are to live, and to describe what it looks like as a child of God. The Law is good. In fact, if you want to summarize God’s Law, you can do it in one word: Love. Love God and love your neighbor.

 Love your neighbor. Luther explains it this way: you show love by not hurting nor harming our neighbor, but helping and befriending him in his needs. Jesus helps and befriends the unnamed groom.

Jesus is fulfilling the Law by demonstrating what love looks like, even if it is “only” over wine. Jesus demonstrates His love for us, even in what seems to be the small stuff. Jesus doesn’t quantify love as big or small; He simply loves. Yet, His love is anything but simple. It is full, complete, love without boundary or limit. Jesus’ love is perfect in quality; it is unending in quantity.

Imagine it was your best friend’s wedding in crisis. In a pinch, you could hit 7-11, Specs, and Canes Chicken. It might not be high cuisine, at least you keep the party going until the final toast. You would do this for your best friend’s wedding; you would do it for a family member. But, what if it’s just someone you know, and aren’t particularly close to, would you do the same? We qualify our neighborly love to determine who we serve. We quantify our love to figure out how much we will love. Or, we put ourselves first. We'll let others know just how inconvenienced we are by having to run to the store, and had we not rushed in to save the day, this would have been a total disaster. Maybe we'll snap a few photos to post on social media, or share some snide comments: well, what else do you expect from the likes of him.

Jesus does nothing of the sort. Jesus’ love is extraordinary, demonstrated in His own time and in His own way to his neighbor. It’s also demonstrated without qualification or quantification. What else can Jesus do, but bring the best in caring for His neighbor? This isn’t Two Buck Chuck or Mad Dog 20-20; it’s not even the twenty-dollar twist-off from the grocery store. This is the kind of wine spoken of with reverence, kept in locked, climate-controlled cellars, described as having rich, complex flavors and nuances that most palates cannot discern, the kind of wine reserved for only the most intimate of friends and family.

That’s who these people are for Jesus: the groom’s guests are Jesus’ neighbors, all of them recipients – even unknowingly, but still recipients – of His loving action. And, it’s not just a little bit of the good stuff. This is somewhere around 150 gallons, which would be around 700 bottles of excellent, magnificent wine. Jesus has saved the best – both in quality and quantity – for last.

Jesus loves His neighbors perfectly. There is no joyful laughter at the groom’s poor planning; no social media posts to shame his lack of preparation. There isn’t complaining about how the guests are being mistreated. There isn’t gossip questioning where the money for the wine has gone, or why there seems to be missing wine. There’s no trying to manipulate the crowd. There’s no with-holding the best wine for his own private after-party. Instead, Jesus loves; Jesus gives. He gives the best – even in the small stuff, the seemingly insignificant stuff. He gives the best.

In the text, only the master of ceremonies recognizes the gift, but he misses out on the giver, mistakenly giving credit to the groom. St. John makes sure we know: the giver is Jesus; He saves the best for last.  He saves the best - Himself - for the last - the sins of the world. While the sign does show Jesus’ glory as the Son of God, it is not yet His hour. His hour is yet to come. There is much foreshadowing here: the water to wine foreshadows when Christ takes the cup with His disciples and says “This is my blood, shed for you.” The sign of water to wine is also reversed at the cross when blood and water are separated and flow from His pierced side. And, to make sure you know that this is all pointing to the cross, at Cana, Jesus hour had not yet come. In the Garden of Gethsemane, with His disciples resting nearby, Jesus prays, “Now the hour has come,” (17:1). The cross is – literally and figuratively – on the horizon. Mary, Jesus’ mother, is present here, at the wedding. The only other time Mary appears in John’s Gospel is when she stands at the foot of the cross when her Son shows His perfect love for a sinful world.

John tells us this is the first of Jesus’ signs – you’ll note, he doesn’t call it a miracle. It’s a sign. That’s John’s way of illustrating Jesus isn’t just a miracle worker; He is God in flesh. He is Messiah. Remember, Jesus means “Savior.” John names seven signs in His Gospel, the 7^th being Lazarus’ resurrection. Seven is a number of completion; eight is a number of a new beginning. There is an eighth sign, but it isn’t named because it’s so obvious: Jesus own resurrection.

Now, take that truth and go back to the beginning when I shared this person’s desire to know Jesus cares about the small stuff. What does that look like? Your child is acting up in church and it’s a struggle to even be here, let alone listen. A friendly face and gentle hands offer to help, giving you just a moment’s respite. That’s Jesus caring about the small stuff. You’re wrestling with what the doctor has just told you, trying to figure out how the treatment plan is going to work and how you’ll manage the deductible. A friend calls and after the polite back and forth, she says, “Now, how are you really doing?” and then she gives you space to tell your concerns and fears. That’s Jesus caring about the small stuff. You didn’t do so well on that homework assignment and test last week, and you’re feeling pretty bad. The teacher says, “You know, I had a bad week, too, but I think we’ll both be OK” and suddenly you don’t feel so alone. That’s Jesus in the small stuff. 

You open your Bible tonight, looking for a word – just a word – of hope and encouragement before you fall asleep. He is there, in those words on the page. That’s Jesus in the small stuff. In a moment, you’ll come to the altar and you will receive what appears to be a flat piece of bread and a sip of wine, but combined with His Word of promise, it is also His body and blood. That’s Jesus in the small stuff. And, when you leave here shortly, you do so under the Lord’s three-fold blessing. That’s Jesus in the small stuff.

He's in the small stuff because of His perfect love for you.

In the name of Jesus.
Amen.

 

"Set Free From Sin" - Romans 6: 6-7

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

Today the Christian church celebrates the baptism of Jesus. If you stop and think about it, it’s an odd event, at multiple levels. Let me explain.

About 15 years ago I was privileged to baptize a young girl who was probably around four or five - I forget exactly. In the rite of holy baptism, there's a question that is asked: do you renounce the devil, all of his works, and all of his ways? The answer of course is yes, I do renounce them. When a child is being baptized, the parents and sponsors speak on the child’s behalf, but this little girl, when she heard the devil's name being spoken, she spoke up for herself. When I asked, “Do you renounce the devil, all his works and all his ways?” she answered for herself with an emphatic, “No!” It took just a few seconds for everyone, including the girl’s family, to realize what had happened and then the chuckling started. It took a few moments to get everyone refocused and back on track. The grandpa summed it up later: as cute as the moment was, the devil never quite wants to let go, does he?

Turn to page 325 in the front of your hymnal. If you didn’t know this, Luther’s Small Catechism is printed there. For a moment, let’s look at what Luther teaches us about Baptism. First, what is Baptism? The answer is relatively easy – even if you can’t read the Catechism, you can probably answer this. It’s not just plain water, but water combined with the word of God, “Go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Again – easy stuff. So far, so good.

But, what gets interesting is in the second part. “What benefits does Baptism have?” Luther writes that it works forgiveness of sins, delivers from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe this, as the words and promises of God declare,” and then it refers Mark 16:16. That moment back in Crosby, and in other Baptismal moments across the globe, as water is poured over the baptismal candidate and the Trinitarian name of God is spoken, sins are washed away and the enemy of God becomes the child of God.

I have lost track of the number of baptisms I have been privileged to do. I have baptized infants who were prematurely born with a dropper of distilled water who could not speak for themselves and I have baptized grown adults whose voice was clearly heard across the sanctuary. Some wore a special, family heirloom baptismal gown; others wore what they had. Boys and girls, men and women, each baptismal rite was somewhat unique. But one thing was always the same: a sinner was made a child of God and, this side of heaven, the old adam would constantly be a struggle to keep at bay.

This is a real struggle, a true battle for the child of God. I had another parent ask me once if I would consider redoing his son’s baptism because, he joked, it appeared that the first one didn’t take. I empathize – not only as a parent, but as a child of God myself. I wonder if Paul didn’t wrestle with it as well. In Romans 7, he will lament that the good things he wants to do, he doesn’t do and the evil things he doesn’t want to do, he does. IF that’s true for the apostle, what hope do we have?

There are two verses I want to draw to your attention this morning. While all of Romans 6 is good stuff, these two verses help us see ourselves as God’s people who wrestle with this specific temptation of how we see ourselves, and whether such a view is congruent with how God sees us.

In verses 6 & 7, Paul writes, “We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. ⁷ For one who has died has been set free from sin.”

The key word there is “from.” Some people misunderstand this. They think that a child of God should be free of sin, that is, without blemish, unable to make mistakes, to no longer err and sin against God and neighbor. That’s not what Paul says. He says free “from” sin. Think of it this way: if you had a few days off between Christmas and the New Year, you were free from school, or free from work. You were not free of school – you had to go back this week. You were not free of work – you still had a job to do. But you were free from it, if only for a short time.

Apply that idea to these words of Paul. You are set free from sin, so sin no longer holds its guilty power over you and satan no longer has his eternal claws in you. This side of heaven, you remain a sinner, and your old adam and old eve continue to be a thorn in your flesh, tempting you to sin and then tempting you to disbelieve God’s grace for you. Satan might lie, he might tempt, entice, torture and even hinder you as a child of God, and he will do all he can to tell you that yours is a hopeless situation – “if you were really a child of God, you wouldn’t do such a thing, would you?” – but you are Christ’s remember? Don’t you know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ have been baptized into His death? We were bured therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, you might walk in newness of life. In other words, you are free from sin because you are alive in Christ.  Satan might roar and throw a fit, but he cannot make Christ’s forgiveness go away, and he cannot pry you away from Jesus when we live in His kingdom.

A moment ago, I said today the church remembers the baptism of Jesus and that, at many levels, it is an odd event. Baptism is for sinners; it is for forgiveness of sins; it destroys satan’s power and removes his ability to hold guilt and shame over the child of God. Yet, Jesus is baptized. The holy, sinless Son of God, who entered into human flesh, taking humanity into Himself but without the original sin that would condemn us, He who is God of creation and Lord even over the devil, He is baptized. Why? If Baptism is for sinners and Jesus is sinless, why be baptized?

Jesus must submit to John’s baptism, not for himself, but to save the very people John has baptized, that the Church has baptized, that have been baptized in this font. In that Jordan river moment, you see a picture of how Christ will save His people from their sins: He stands among us, with us, and for us. He takes our place, and in receiving the sinner’s baptism from John, it’s as if all of the world’s sins that have been washed away from us are washed onto Him. God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us. This baptismal picture is a foretaste of what is to come. Jesus doesn’t stop standing among us, with us and for us when he leaves the river. He continues in our place all the way to the cross. Ultimately, that is where all righteousness is completed and fulfilled, where and when the innocent Lamb of God is offered as the once-for all, one-for-all sacrifice in the place of many. That is why it is fitting for Jesus to come to the Jordan and be baptized to – literally and spiritually – stand in the place of many.

In Christ’s Baptism, He joins Himself with us. In your baptism, Christ joins you to Himself. Joined to Jesus in our baptisms, His perfect life, ministry of word, death and resurrection become the seal of the cross, marking us that we are redeemed, rescued and saved. A wonderful exchange takes place in Baptism. With your sins removed from you, Christ’s righteousness rushes in. You are declared holy, washed clean in Christ. So you do not doubt this, not only does Jesus die, He also rises. His death pays the price; His resurrection is the proof-evidence that satisfaction is made. Baptized into Christ, you died with Christ; baptized into Christ, you have risen with Christ. Do you understand what a remarkable gift this is? All of your sins, removed from you in Christ. They can no longer be held against you. The debt is paid in full.

That is what it means to be set free from sin. This side of heaven, there will always be a wrestling match between your old self and your new self. In those moments of weakness, when the old self wins with its evil desires, drag it back to the baptismal promise of God and drown it again. You don’t need to be rebaptized; you only need to remember and trust the promise of God that are yours in Christ. You are set free from sin and God sees you, in Christ, as righteous and pure, holy and blameless.

Amen.

An Epiphany Devotion - Matthew 2: 1-12

A Devotion for Epiphany – January 6

Based on Matthew 2: 1-12

January 6 is the day of Epiphany, the day the Christian church celebrates the arrival of the wise men to the child, Jesus, and give homage to the newborn King. Epiphany means “revealing,” literally “to shine light upon,” and during the season of Epipany, Jesus is revealed as the Savior of the world. But, the season begins with the arrival of the Wise Men.

I say “wise men” – depending on the translation or the song, you might know them as wise men, Magi, sages, or even kings. Usually, they are described as astrologers, but the term used in the Greek New Testament implies an interest in dreams, stars, and perhaps even magic. They were from the East, presumably the area of Babylon, the region where the Israelites had been taken into captivity 700 years earlier. As to how many wise men there were, we simply don’t know. Traditionally, the story says there were three men – one for each gift. There is another story about a fourth wise man who gave his gift away, so that by the time he arrived at Jesus’ side, he was without a present and, thus, overlooked. Regardless, what we know is what Matthew tells us in chapter 2 of his Gospel: they brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Gold, you know: a very expensive, precious metal, useful for the buying and selling of goods. You’re probably less familiar with the other two gifts. Frankincense is a tree resin that can be either dried into granules for burning or infused into an oil. If you know anyone who uses essential oil, there is often a scent called “Frankincense.” Myrrh is a spice, either dry or added to oils to be used for both perfume and for anointing. All three were expensive, special gifts that you didn’t just pick up at the corner market. These were gifts from kings; gifts fit for a king.

What gifts are you giving to Jesus this year? What kind of gifts have you brought that are worthy for the Newborn King? It’s tempting to tap our wallets and checkbooks, thinking we bring Jesus our gifts of finances. How about our prayers and our praises? That’s a good, sanctified answer. Perhaps we owe him good, Christian living.

He doesn’t want any of those things. Jesus doesn’t you to bring to His crib your gold-plated, incense-infused, myrrh-scented self-righteous life. He doesn’t want your money. He doesn’t want your goodness. All Jesus wants from you is your sins, your guilt, and your shame. This is the only gift Jesus wants from you this Epiphany day: your sins, because that’s the entire reason He came – to save you from those damned – I use that word deliberately – and damning sins.

That sounds backwards, doesn’t it? Why, the Wise Men brought gifts fit for a King – gold, frankincense and myrrh – shouldn’t we at least try to do the same, give Him our best?

If Jesus were an earthly King, an earthly ruler, then yes, this might be true. But Jesus is a different kind of King. The perfect, holy, sinless Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary, announced by angels, witnessed by shepherds, whose name is Jesus, is a King who will save His people from their sins.

These gifts from the wise men also have a certain amount of foreshadowing to them. No one knew that day as Mary and Joseph oohed and aahed at the expensive treasures that one day the gold would be replaced by 30 pieces of silver that would be used to turn a disciple into a traitor. Mary certainly had no inkling that three decades later, she, along with some other women, would be carrying frankincense and myrrh and other spices to embalm her son after His crucifixion and His death for the sins of the world. Those events were far in the future, but in God’s plan of salvation – His heilsgeschichte, for you German lovers – they were already in place for the redemption of the world.

On this first month of the new year of a new decade, take all of the sins of the past and leave them with Jesus. Don’t carry them any further. Your sins of cursing and swearing, dishonoring your parents, speaking ill of our elected officials, hating the ex, yelling at the kids, gossiping, lying, stealing time from our employers, holding grudges; of having emotional affairs, alcohol and drug abuse, failing to love, honor and cherish your spouse; failing to fear, love and trust in God more than all other things; thinking that you can make yourself better all by yourself… There are many more…those sins you try to bury deep within, but the guilt keeps dragging them to the surface; those things you try to shove into the dark corner of your memory, but the shame – the devil’s favorite lie that you should know better because you are a Christian! – keeps shining a light into those corners and illuminates them for you to remember. Of these, of all of these, give them to Jesus. Bring them to the Infant King in repentance, confess them, and believe that Jesus came to take them from you.

Those are the gifts that Jesus wants. You don’t have to wrap them up pretty; they don’t need bows and ribbons; they don’t deserve pretty wrappings. Give them to Jesus with all their ugliness and nastiness.

Start the New Year fresh, free, and forgiven. Jesus gives you the gift of forgiveness, destroying sin’s damning power. He gives you the gift of joy, that you are no longer burdened by the weight of your griefs and shame. He gives you the gift of peace, that the relationship with God is restored and whole. He gives you the gift of salvation, that eternity with God is yours. He gives the gift of love, that you are able to share with those around you. He gives the gift of faith that enables you to say, “This is most certainly true.”

With Epiphany joy, peace and hope, amen.

Jesus' Christmas Gift for Moms and Dads - Luke 2:40-52

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson. Luke 2:40-52.

As a dad, this narrative is very frustrating. Let me explain.

If I was Joseph, I would have been furious with my son. For my son to have so completely disrespected me, to not follow obediently, to not travel with us, or at least be in the same group, without telling me what he is doing is just – grrrrr!!!! – unacceptable. Jesus seems to show complete disregard, not only for his dad’s authority, but his mother’s concern, for their joint parental responsibility, their fears, their angst. Overall, it seems Jesus doesn’t care one whit. As a parent, that is very frustrating. So, as a dad, as a parent, I empathize deeply with Mary and Joseph in their frantic search for their missing son.

I suspect that all of you parents, you grandparents, you probably do as well because you’ve been there. You have had that experience of having a child disappear while you were at the grocery store or the mall or at the ballpark. Your son was right there a second ago, playing catch with a buddy at the end of the bleachers; your daughter was standing right next to you while you dug through the clothes rack trying to find her a new outfit for school, but but when you turn around it’s as if – poof – they disappeared. The frantic search, as concern quickly accelerates to angst and then fear; the terrible “what if” thoughts. Have you ever heard a “Code Adam” call over the loudspeaker in the store? It’s a store’s response to a panicked parent’s realization that the child is missing. Employees swing into action, guarding doors, asking shoppers with children if they are family. The police are called. Everyone searches frantically - scurrying down aisles, hunting under clothes racks, looking below the bleachers, to finally find them stretched out on the dog beds in Aisle 29, simply needing a nap, or to see them waddling towards you with two boxes of their favorite cereal under their arms, or standing in the toy aisle staring at the latest and greatest thing they saw at their friend’s house, or playing quietly with a couple other friends, totally oblivious to your frantic and panicked search. Thankfully, most of the time, these panicked searches end up well, but with a bag of mixed feelings: joy the lost child is found, frustration the child left in the first place, and shame that you missed the fact that your child disappeared without your knowledge.

Because you’ve experienced this, you can understand and imagine Mary and Joseph’s frustration, fear, and concern. Luke wants us to see this story through their eyes. He wants us to know their grief and pain, their frantic efforts to find their son. At the evening camp, after a day’s journey – fifteen to twenty miles – from Jerusalem, they discovered Jesus wasn’t there. A quick search among their traveling companions identified Jesus was not among them. Then, the frantic return to the city, swollen in population for Passover, growing and blossoming hour by hour, stretching into a three-day search for their son, their twelve-year old son, their only son.

The Temple was the center of Israel's life, in every sense of the word. It was a community center, a worship center, a political center, even an economic center. If you were looking for someone, it makes sense to start there. But, I wonder if their return to the Temple was motivated by spiritual, as much as physical and emotional, need? You know how it is – in times of great crisis, turning to the house of God for prayer, solitude and – perhaps – answers? A sense that they’ve tried everything else, so perhaps this was the final option? Or was it less spiritual, and simply checking the last place they remembered seeing Jesus?  

And, then, I can imagine – as can you – their mixed bag of emotions when they discover Jesus there, in the Temple, surrounded by the great teachers of the Law. It was apparently an incredible give-and-take between the boy and the men: Jesus both listening to them and asking questions, but also answering and demonstrating great understanding. Mary and Joseph, astonished at what was before them, both seeing and hearing this dialogue; frustrated at their son’s seeming lack of respect and concern; relief to find him safe.

And I have to wonder if she remembered the day she and Joseph brought Jesus to Temple for His circumcision, that strange day that the old man, Simeon, held the baby in his arms, sang the Nunc Dimittis – Lord, let your servant depart in peace – and then he looked at Mary and said:

This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, 35 so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Did she wonder if this moment was the first of more to come?

Was there understanding that in her Son, God deigned to dwell among man, not in a Tabernacle, or even in the Temple, but in human flesh? Did she have any inclination that the day would come when those same teachers  of the law would turn against Jesus, instead of sitting and engaging with Jesus in teaching and learning they engaged instead in plotting to kill Him? Could she have any idea that He would, in 30 years, make His own journey to Jerusalem for Passover? Was there any inkling in her mind that then He would be left behind again – this time not by parents but by everyone – including His Heavenly Father? Did she understand that there would be another three day period where she would be separated from her son who lay, dead and buried, behind a sealed stone and where she would finally find Him, but mistake Him for the gardener?

No…standing there in Temple, watching her 12 year old son with pride and curiosity, with frustration and anxiety, she didn’t have any idea of what lay ahead for Jesus and what was necessary for Him to fulfill His name and be Savior. What she knew is that it was time to go home, back to sleepy little Nazareth, and for Jesus to go with her. He did, Luke noting that He continued to grow in wisdom and in stature with God and man. She had found her Son, where He was most at home – in His Father’s house. But it was time to leave the Temple behind for another year.

I started this sermon by putting us parents in the shoes of Mary and Joseph. Whether you count your child’s lifespan still as weeks and months or by the decade, you have had those moments and experiences of anger and frustration at your children – some were righteously felt, but if we’re honest, others not so much. Parenting is one of God’s great gifts and children are a blessing. The parent-to-child relationship is the foundation of all mankind, one where grace and mercy is freely practiced, and love and compassion are exercised. And the devil cannot abide this. So, the devil loves to take the gift and fill us with frustration and hurt so that we call it a burden, and he loves to take the blessing and fill it with harsh words and broken hearts so that we call it a curse.  Love and compassion are surrendered to getting even and showing who’s boss; grace and mercy are given over to self-justification and self-righteousness. And then, when we realize our mistakes and our sins against our kids, the devil takes that all and wraps it up with a horrible, thorny bow and delivers it to us again either as arrogance, foolishly thinking we were right-as-rain in our sinful actions, or as shame and guilt, that Christian parents would never think such things, or feel such things toward their children. He leaves us parents in our own despair, seeing only our failures and our homes as anything but places where the Spirit of God dwells.

Parents – moms and dads of all ages – hear this Word of God. It's Jesus' Christmas gift to you. Christ comes for you, mom and dad. He, who descends to earth as a human boy, who in holiness perfectly submitted to earthly and sinful parents, is your Savior. For all of those parental melt-downs, fatherly conniption fits, and motherly tantrums, Jesus is yours. In repentance, surrender them to Him. Don’t let Satan continue to weigh you down with those moments. In faith, know, believe, trust and rely that you, too, are forgiven by Christ. In humility, confess your failing to your kids and ask them for their forgiveness, too, without excuses or condition (you know, the “I’m sorry I yelled, but if you would have cleaned up your room…”) and pledge to do better next time. When you do that, you give your child the wonderful opportunity to share the Word of God with you, the Word that says, “I forgive you, Mom; I forgive you, Dad.” You might have to teach them to use those words; that’s OK, and it’s worth teaching. Because there, in the family, united with Christ in Baptism and grounded in the Word, there is Christ.

Amen.