Sermons

What is preaching? St. Paul writes in Romans: “Whoever calls on the name of the LORD shall be saved. How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?” (Romans 10:14-15)

Therefore our Lutheran Confessions state: “It is also taught among us that one holy Christian church will be and remain forever. This is the assembly of all believers among whom the Gospel is preached in its purity and the holy sacraments are administered according to the Gospel.” (Augsburg Confession VII:1-3)

There are 257 posts filed in Sermons (this is page 65 of 86).

Good Friday Chief Service 2011

22. April 2011
Good Friday Chief Service

Now we know why they call all this Christ’s Passion. God in the flesh, felt the nails, the thorns, the ripping and tearing and beating, felt the agonies of hell just as keenly as we would. God in the flesh is hanging on a cross. And He’s doing it for one reason: to save lost and condemned creatures from everlasting death.

Christ was that passionate for the lost, that passionate about your salvation. You can hear it in His voice, can’t you, when He says, “It is finished.” Christ’s Passion! He cared that much to be able to say the same to you, to have you with Him for eternity in heaven.

Or did He? Was Christ really so passionate for you? Was Christ’s Passion even really for you? Or was it just for some of the lost? Say what?!!

Many Christians believe that Christ’s Passion wasn’t really for everyone, or at least Christ wasn’t passionate in quite the same way for some as for others. Many of these are even neighbors to us, celebrating Good Friday but arguing that its only good for some. How’s that?

Everyone loves a good story—especially of a poor soul who is lost then found. Consider the widow and her lost coin. Or the shepherd who goes after the one lost sheep among the ninety-nine.  Those parables were enacted for real during our Lord’s passion. We certainly have that with the penitent thief on the cross. From the very edge of hell—forever and ever and ever—maybe only minutes away, suddenly our penitent thief has Paradise. Labored, no doubt, as each breath comes with great pain, but sweet, and with quiet conviction. Jesus is passionate to save this man.

But what about those souls who are never found, who remain forever lost? Like the guy on the other cross. Was Christ passionate about saving him? Did Christ’s Passion even count for him?

John Calvin, who lived about the time of Luther, and the Reformed branch of Christianity, from which Presbyterians and many like United Churches of Christ come, would say Christ’s Passion didn’t count for him. The idea is called “limited atonement,” that Christ’s death only atones for, only reconciles to God, those whom God predestines for salvation. Everyone else, everyone who doesn’t come to believe, Calvin said, was predestined for hell. That was that. You didn’t know exactly who that might be, but, of course, then, you couldn’t know for sure for whom Christ did die.

Lutherans certainly reject that idea. St. Paul writes that God “desires all people to be saved” (I Timothy 2:4). Christ’s Passion was for all, even for those lost who are lost forever.

Not that long after Calvin, there was a man named Arminius. Many Baptists and Methodists follow his position. He was horrified with Calvin’s idea that God would predestine some to hell, so he said the reason some are lost forever while others are saved is because there’s something in one person that’s different from another. Maybe one person is willing to let God save her, or maybe one person decides for Christ, while another won’t.

But think about what that would mean. It would mean it wasn’t just Christ’s passion to save the lost that saved them, it was something in them. Apparently Christ wasn’t passionate enough for the lost to do all the saving; He felt He had to leave something up to them. But Paul says again we were all “dead in our trespasses and sins” (Ephesians 2:1). A dead person can’t help save herself.

A similar controversy came up with some Lutherans who took a position somewhat like Arminius,both in Germany after Luther’s death and resurfacing again in America. Those who held the position said that that God chose who would be saved by looking down the line from eternity and seeing who would eventually come to be saved. There’s a Latin phrase for it, intuitu fidei, or “in view of faith.” If God looked into the 21st century and saw you were going to believe in Jesus, OK, chose you for salvation.

Almost sounds like it makes sense but right-teaching Lutherans rejected it. Why? It’s another way of saying something in us has at least a little to do with how we’re saved. Another form, really, of being saved by works. Or to put it yet another way, Christ wasn’t passionate enough to save you to do all the saving.

Consider what that would mean for us. You could say, of course, “I believe, so it’s all fine.” But what about the day when you’re stressed, and you know you’ve really been sinful, and you start to wonder, “Do I still believe?” or “Did I ever really believe?” or “Is my faith what it takes to be real faith?”

If this were your understanding of salvation, you couldn’t say, “I know I’m saved! I was forgiven when I received Christ’s body and blood,” because maybe you’re not one of those for whom that works. Or, “I was saved when I was baptized or when Pastor told me I was forgiven. Maybe I’m not one of those God chose because my faith isn’t real faith.”

Scary stuff! Maybe Christ as He’s hanging on this cross isn’t really so passionate about me. Maybe I’ll actually suffer the kind of hell that he suffered!

But consider what Christ says in the passion according to St. Luke, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” Jesus said that to those who were crucifying Him. Sounds pretty passionate, doesn’t it! Did they all believe? Not now. Did they all come to believe? No indication that they did—maybe some yes, maybe some no. Christ was still passionate for them—all of them—even the ones who would still be lost forever. Not only was Christ’s passion for all the lost, but Christ was passionate for all the lost, all the lost.

That means Christ is passionate enough to do all that’s necessary to save everyone. The penitent thief didn’t have something special in him, even if we’d like to think so. He was really wicked; in fact, you know, earlier this very day on the cross, he was blaspheming Jesus, too. It was Jesus’ passion for him—nothing else—that saved him.

That means He is passionate about me, passionate enough to let me be absolutely sure of my salvation. Yes, what you see here today, your Lord suffering the torments of hell on the cross, is for you! Yes, Christ’s Passion is sufficient to pay for all of your sins, enough to buy you Paradise! Yes, Jesus is passionate enough for your salvation not only to earn it for you on the cross, but to deliver it to you in His Word, in your baptism, in His true body and blood, in your pastor’s word of absolution. Yes, you here today—all of you—can be certain of your salvation! You were lost, but you are found.

That also means that Christ is passionate for everybody else out there. When Christ’s Passion is laid before us, when we see Christ on the cross today, and we hear this: In His passion for us Christ has given us eternal life, then, dear friends, Christ’s passion for the lost—all the lost—has just found you.

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

Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
Grace Lutheran Church
Dyer, Indiana

(This sermon is heavily indebted to Dr. Fickenscher. Soli Deo Gloria.)

 

Was Easter Borrowed from a Pagan Holiday? | Christian History

Alternatively, as Hutton suggests, Eosturmonath simply meant “the month of opening,” which is comparable to the meaning of “April” in Latin. The names of both the Saxon and Latin months (which are calendrically similar) were related to spring, the season when the buds open.

So Christians in ancient Anglo-Saxon and Germanic areas called their Passover holiday what they did—doubtless colloquially at first—simply because it occurred around the time of Eosturmonath/Ostarmanoth. A contemporary analogy can be found in the way Americans sometimes refer to the December period as “the holidays” in connection with Christmas and Hanukkah, or the way people sometimes speak about something happening “around Christmas,” usually referring to the time at the turn of the year. The Christian title “Easter,” then, essentially reflects its general date in the calendar, rather than the Paschal festival having been re-named in honor of a supposed pagan deity.

Of course, the Christian commemoration of the Paschal festival rests not on the title of the celebration but on its content—namely, the remembrance of Christ’s death and resurrection. It is Christ’s conquest of sin, death, and Satan that gives us the right to wish everyone “Happy Easter!”

via Was Easter Borrowed from a Pagan Holiday? | Christian History.

Maundy Thursday 2011 – 1 Corinthians 11:23-32

21. April 2011
Maundy Thursday
1 Corinthians 11:23-32; John 13:1-15, 34-35

On this holy evening, we annually remember our Lord’s final Passover meal with his disciples. We rejoice with the disciples at the institution of the most blessed of meals, our Lord’s Supper. Our paraments have changed to the white of celebration and the Gloria in Excelsis has returned. We sing songs of thanks to our Lord for the deliverance from our mortal foes of sin, death, and the devil, which he so graciously gives to us in his body and blood.

Body and blood. This same evening with remember our Lord’s betrayal into the hands of the sinners. These will abuse him, beat him, and deliver him over to death. Our Lord’s death is not secondary. There is no body and blood for you today without tomorrow. Tomorrow is Good Friday. God’s Friday, the day he gave his son for the salvation of the world.

With the terrible and awesome events on the horizon, its hard for us to rejoice. Its hard for us to sing with angels tonight when we know that tomorrow they will weep with us at the sight of dead Lord. Therefore our song is restrained. We are denied the Gloria Patri. The Halleluia is silent. There will be no more Invocations or even the Benedictions is withheld until Easter. This evening’s brief moment of joy will be muted by what must come next.

Then again, how is tonight any different that each Lord’s day? Christians take St. Paul’s words seriously when he says: “And I, brethren, when I came to you, did not come with excellence of speech or of wisdom declaring to you the testimony of God. 2 For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified.” (1 Cor. 2:1-2) Each Lord’s day, this night when he did some foot-washing and held an instituting supper club, and even Easter Sunday, we proclaim the Christ whose lifeless corpse hung on the tree of the cross.

But these days ought to be a joyous occasion, right? Many think they ought to be full of feasting, with fake Passover seders and the leftover joys of Sunday’s palm branches and triumphant entry. Some even say that every service should be an unbridled thrill from start to finish, high on production value, and pushing every positive emotional button in our soul. It should be a no holds barred, enthusiastic, unrestrained love fest.

I suppose then our holy week services are a bit morbid to some. They might be a bummer. Our surroundings don’t help. The crosses are remain veiled. Our banners remain the violet of the Passion. Our building itself is full of restraint. It is only a modest surrounding, unassuming facade, simple decor. Then again, even this fellowship is composed of normal folks, with normal jobs, and normal lives. There’s no spectacular wealth, superior energy, or dynamic entertainment. No celebrities, no fanfare, no spectacle.

 

Then your young and unassuming pastor stands in the pulpit and talks about trespasses, dying flesh, and eternal death. He lacks the eloquence and wisdom of many preachers. He is only determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Especially tonight, he withholds from your eyes the triumphant Lord, sitting at the right hand of the Father upon his sapphire throne. The Lord you taste and see this evening is the Lord who dies.

It isn’t pleasant. It may well be a bummer. It likely isn’t even what you want. Yet, it is precisely what you need. Your enemies are real. Your condition is fatal. There is only one great Physician and only one cure. Only through death of the Son of God do you inherit life. Only through the sacrifice of the Lamb of God do you receive the new testament in his blood.

Immediately after Pentecost, St. Luke records: “And they continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in prayers.” (Acts 2:42) The apostolic church only teaches as Jesus himself teaches in the Scriptures. Christians don’t worship in isolation. The faith is not received apart from the fellowship of the saints. That is why we gather together to hear this doctrine, to join together in prayer, and especially to join in the Holy Supper of our Lord.

Nothing confesses Jesus Christ and his crucifixion like the gift St. Paul gave to the church in Corinth. Just as was recorded by the Evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Paul wrote: “the Lord Jesus on the same night in which He was betrayed took bread; 24 and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, “Take, eat; this is My body which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” 25 In the same manner He also took the cup after supper, saying,  “This cup is the new covenant in My blood. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.”

Of course, these words are quite familiar to us. No doubt most of us could recite them by heart. Why? Because our churches continue in the apostles doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and prayers. The Lord’s Supper is both from, of and is our Lord. It is his Word not merely spoken into our ear but placed in our mouths, to be consumed just as Isaiah consumed the sweet scroll of the testimony, so also we receive and each the promise fulfilled in Christ’s own body and blood.

St. Paul writes: “For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you.” So also, the holy Christian church on earth continues to deliver to you what it receives from the Lord, that is, Jesus Christ and him crucified. That’s why Christians hold the Lord’s Supper in such high esteem. That is why we receive our Lord’s body and blood in our mouths as often as our faith compels us. So the same for the church through the ages. The holy apostolic church trusts that this is how it should be. To proclaim Christ crucified is to eat this bread and drink this cup. “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death till He comes.”

Yet, there we go with death again. So much death for a church that ought to be about life, victory, and rejoicing, right?

Death ain’t all that bad, as long as it isn’t yours. And that’s the point. There is life in death. Victory in the cross. Rejoicing in the greatest sorrow of the son of God, dead.

We talk about forgiveness of sins until we’re blue in the face. We often forget that forgiveness isn’t just about the here and now. Forgiveness is about eternity. Forgiveness is about standing before the judgment seat without fear.

Really, its about being let off the hook for your sin. Our Lord wants to post your bail, to release you from the bondage to the devil. He wants to pay the penalty, suffering for you. He even takes your place and dies the death you deserve. Yes, that’s Good Friday but its also tonight, Maundy Thursday.

For tonight, we eat this bread and drink this cup just as Jesus says: This is my body which is for you. This cup is the new testament in my blood. Do this… in remembrance of me. The Supper is Good Friday’s meal. The sacrifice has been made. The body crucified is given as a testimony that God is pleased. The blood is poured out, forgiving debts forever. His Son has done what no blood of goats or bulls could do.

Jesus, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. His promised love remains. He will not leave us nor forsake us. “Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.”

Come and receive the body and blood is Jesus crucified… for you. Not just into ears or minds but into the mouth and into the heart. In this eating and drinking, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. Rejoice! He will come again and he will take all the faithful living and death into paradise. Rejoice with restraint for the Lord is good. Good like Friday. Good like tomorrow. Amen.

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

Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
Grace Lutheran Church
Dyer, Indiana