​The Word of the Lord Disrupts the Course of the Whole World
Ninth is a series, “The Disruptive Word”
Isaiah 9:2–7 // Titus 2:11–14 // Luke 2:1–14
 
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text this Christmas night is the Gospel reading from Luke chapter two, “And she wrapped him in swaddling cloths and placed him in a manger.” Our text thus far.
 
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
 
Christmas is a time when the Word of the Lord disrupts the course of the whole world. He meets our violence with his peace. He meets our hate with his love. He meets our might with his weakness. He meets our poverty with his riches. He meets our sin with his salvation. The Word of the Lord disrupts the whole world on a quiet night, outside of a little inn, with the birth of a baby whose name is Jesus. 
 
We’ve been meditating on this truth for the past four and a half weeks, that the Word of the Lord disrupts our lives especially when we’re stuck in harmful patterns and we can’t get out.
 
There’s this place near Rockford, IL, where Interstate 39 and Interstate 90 merge. It was on my way from home to St. Louis, there was regularly construction on the roads, and more than once, I can tell you that I turned off when I should have stayed on. 
 
But here’s the thing about this particular junction. Usually if you take a wrong turn, you can turn it around or find a different route. Not so here. I can say this with experience: if you turned off the freeway onto I-90, you were stuck. You were on that toll road for 10, 15 miles before you could turn around. 
 
30 minutes and a couple dollars worth of change later, I finally got turned around and headed in the right direction, but here’s the point. There was a time when, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stop. Even after I knew my mistake, I couldn’t change. I was stuck.
 
Because we have all felt stuck. 
 
Not too far away from here is a man sleeping in his car who has been stuck. His actions hurt his family, and he couldn’t seem to stop. He saw it coming from a mile away, and still couldn’t seem to help himself. He feels stuck, because there’s no way to make his family whole anymore.
 
And not too far away from him is a family who feels trapped. They can’t do any of the normal things to blow off steam. They are on top of one another. Moms and dads, brothers and sisters can’t seem to talk anymore. The pressure is mounting, and they feel trapped.
 
And not too far away from them are you and I. Are you feeling stuck, feeling trapped tonight? Sitting in a sanctuary that can hold twice its number today, bringing all our selves into the very presence of God—all of our struggles, all of our fear, all of our anger, all of our sadness, all of our change. 
 
As the darkness of December deepens, once again we find ourselves at the foot of the manger, listening to the voices of angels singing. Once again, we remember the quiet faithfulness of Mary and Joseph. Once again we remember the miraculous vulnerability of our God, that all of God is contained in human flesh, that in Jesus, the course of the whole world is unstuck. 
 
In Jesus, we are all disrupted.
 
Two thoughts as we consider how the Word of the Lord disrupts the course of the whole world. Two harmful patterns that the Lord breaks us out of, that we couldn’t get out of on our own. 
 
First, God disrupts the pattern of this world’s cares. 
 
Second, God disrupts the deep darkness with his light.
 
First, God disrupts the pattern of the world’s cares. Know this, that Caesar Augustus didn’t decree that all the world should be registered because he knew the Savior needed to be born in Bethlehem. 
 
Quirinius the governor of Syria was not sitting at the edge of his seat wondering if the king of the universe was to be born during his first term of office. King Herod the Great didn’t even particularly know that Jesus was born until Magi from Persia came and told him. Even the people in the house upstairs from the stable wouldn’t have thought anything besides that a regular baby had been born in the regular way, albeit in a strange place.
 
And yet in the affairs of the nations, of the regions, of the cities, even in the heart of the innkeeper who gave his stable for Jesus, God had been fulfilling prophesy. Without as much as anyone noticing, God was using all things to disrupt the course of the whole world.
 
Dietrich Bonhoeffer says much the same thing during his last months of life. He was a German pastor who turned double-agent for the Allies, started an underground seminary in Germany, but the most remarkable part of his life were his last months. You see, he was sent to prison for the last nine months of his life and executed at the end. And his calling in those months was as remarkable as it was ordinary: to minister to his neighbor—his fellow prisoners and his guards. And whether he could see it or not, the Lord used those months powerfully. 
 
It would be easy for him to feel as though the affairs of the nations had swept him away from the work that he was doing, that he was trapped by the greater political machine, but the greater reality was that God had worked through his ordinary calling, God had directed the affairs of those nations. God was in control.
 
Peter Rollins says it much the same way about Mother Teresa: “Mother Teresa neither protested the caste system (of India) nor did she affirm it. She simply lived in a different reality.” As a Christian, we simply live in a different reality. We care about things differently.
 
These are days when we can feel swept away by the world’s cares. Political strife runs deep. Frustration boils over. People feel powerless. It’s easy to feel stuck. 
 
But the Word of the Lord disrupts the cares of the world. In the babe of Bethlehem, all of the world’s hate meets all of the love incarnate of God. All of the world’s war meets the peace of the Prince of Peace. The strength of the world’s sin meets the weakness and foolishness of the God of the universe who would die on a cross for you and me.
 
First, God disrupts the pattern of this world’s cares. Second, God disrupts the deep darkness with his light. That’s the bright promise of Isaiah 9.
 
When I think of deep darkness, I remember being a college student and living a college student lifestyle. I decided that I would start my homework at 10 or 10:30pm, which meant that I could go for a run at about 9pm. Now, unfortunately for me, the fitness center had sensible hours and was closed, but I thought that I was smart. I knew that the track was open. I thought that it was clear, and so I ran out to the track. One mile in, two miles in, I was feeling good. But I had slowly been widening my circles around the track until, I was really cruising, coming around the bend, in the pitch black, Huuuuuuuuu! I hit a track hurdle. And that was the end of that. 
 
But the point is, in the darkness that hurdle came out of nowhere. Totally unexpected. In the light, I could’ve seen it from a mile away. Totally obvious.
 
Darkness hems us in. Darkness hides the danger. Darkness makes the way confusing and treacherous. 
 
So it is with our sin. Sin hems us in. Far from setting us free from God’s demands, sin enslaves us to something worse. Sin hides its danger under the guise of not hurting anyone, or being my own problem, of not being so bad.
 
And the babe of Bethlehem, who is love incarnate, would say to you this very night, “I am the light of the world. Follow after me. As I love, so you love. As I do, so you do. Where I lead, there you bear your cross.”
 
You see, the test of the Christian is to ask this: “Could I add “I love you, and” to the thing that I’m going to say?” If you can’t, then don’t say it. Can you add “I love you and” to the action you’re about to do? If you can’t, then don’t do it.
 
For love came down at Christmas, love incarnate, love in the flesh. Love came down at Christmas and love grew up and began his ministry with his baptism at the Jordan River. Love incarnate walked among his disciples. Love incarnate called the Pharisees out in their hypocrisy. Love incarnate longed to gather Jerusalem like a hen gathers her chicks yet they would not. Love incarnate spoke words of Law and words of Gospel. Love incarnate died your death for the entirety of the world’s sin. Love incarnate rose for you and for me.
 
The kingdom of heaven is like a man who is living in a new reality. He hears the words echoed in his heart, do not conform to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. 
 
The kingdom of heaven is like a woman who lost everything only to realize that her treasure is hidden in Christ on high. 
 
The kingdom of heaven is like a family growing on up in their Savior Jesus Christ, learning to love what he loves and learning to follow where he goes.
 
The kingdom of heaven is like brothers and sisters gathered in a Sanctuary, gathered with all of their fears, all of their hopes, all of their doubts, all of their prayers. 
 
They confess their fears and know that their God says, “You do not have to fear, even if you are afraid. God’s got this.” 
 
They lay out their hopes and their doubts, knowing that God knew them already, and, in his word, he answers.
 
They pray that God would hold close the people that they can’t be near this year. They find it in their hearts once again to remember that God is directing all things, and when Christ comes for the second time, he will make all things right.
 
The Word of the Lord disrupts our lives.
 
God disrupts the pattern of this world’s cares; he creates a different reality for Christians to live in. 
 
God disrupts the deep darkness with his light; his love is the light that leads us. 
 
Amen and amen. 

​The Word of God Disrupts the Life of Mary
Seventh in a series, “The Disruptive Word”
Luke 1:26–38 // Romans 16:25–27
 
Grace, mercy and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for the Fourth Sunday in Advent is Luke chapter one, beginning with these words, “In the sixth month (of Elizabeth’s pregnancy), the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.” Our text thus far.
 
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
 
In the days of waiting and preparing for Christmas, in the season that we call Advent, we consider the disruptive Word of God. We consider how the Word of God does not leave us alone. It does not let us be, but instead that every advent is another calling for you to consider and reflect on your own lives, a time when you get to long again for Jesus Christ to come back and make all things right, a time when you pray for hope and ask God to remind you what hope is, pray for peace and ask God to remind you what peace is.
 
Today, we consider how the disruptive Word of God disrupts the life of Mary in Luke chapter one, and disrupt her life it does.
 
Now, I’ve never been a pregnant teenage mom, and I never will be, but when I think of this story, Mary finding out she is going to have a baby, Mary unexpectedly seeing her life turned upside, Mary and her remarkable response to God’s plan of salvation, when I think of this, I think about when I first found out that my firstborn Benjamin was on his way.
 
We had been trying. We had been waiting. We wanted to start a family, and we expected this, but I still remember as we realized that Laura was pregnant, I still remember that it was not pure joy for me. It was that bubbly joy that makes you go “WOO!” but it was mixed with a weight, a weight of responsibility, a realization of what it would mean. “I’m going to be a Father!” “Oh, I’m going to be a father.” This is a vocation that I will hold for the rest of my life. What starts here is a work that God will not finish until I pass away. That’s a heavy realization of the future. 
 
Three thoughts for our sermon today, based on three quotes, one from the angel and two from Mary. One command, one question, and one statement. First, the angel commands, “Do not be afraid.” Second, Mary asks, “How can this be?” Third, our reading concludes with Mary stating, “I am a servant of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word.”
 
First, the angel says, “Mary, do not be afraid.” When God’s plan for Mary disrupts Mary’s plan for Mary, there is fear. Why would that be? Well, notice what Gabriel does promise her and what he doesn’t promise her. 
 
Gabriel told her she had favor with God; he didn’t say that she would have favor with her neighbors. Gabriel told her she was going to have as a son, the Son of God; he didn’t say that her relatives would believe her. Gabriel promised her that even as she remained a virgin, she would conceive. He didn’t promise her that she would have a husband to see her through this.
 
Now, there will never be another Mother of God, but God makes promises to you and to me, too. “Never ever will I leave you nor forsake you.” “No one can snatch you out of my Father’s Hand.” “My peace I give you, my peace I leave you.” Those are the good promises. 
 
But listen to what he doesn’t say you. He doesn’t promise you a white picket fence and 2.3 kids. He doesn’t promise you a life free from pain. He doesn’t promise you that you won’t struggle with your sin. He also promises more. “In this world, you will have trouble.” “Blessed are those who are persecuted and reviled for my sake.”
 
So, this is the heart of Mary that we see in our text. This is the heart of a woman to whom the angel Gabriel says, “Do not be afraid.”
 
Do not be afraid, even if you have real things to fear. Do not be afraid, because god knows even the needs of the sparrows and the lilies. Do not be afraid, because not only can God answer the prayer that you pray; he can and does lead us toward the great, the deeper, the more eternally important truths.
 
Second, Mary answers the angel by asking, “How can this be?” Notice this, that her words are almost the exact same words as Zechariah when he finds out that Elizabeth will be pregnant, and yet Zechariah is chastised, struck dumb for 9 months, but Mary is not. To use the same question, how can this be?
 
Let me quote a commentator, “In contrast to Zechariah’s skeptical question, Mary wonders in faith. Zechariah walked away unable to speak, but Mary burst forth into holy song.”
 
It wasn’t so much about the “What” of what they said.... it was the “How” of how they meant it. 
 
So faith is not so much to have all the answers as it is to trust the one who does have all the answers. Faith is not so much having it all figured out as it is walking one day at a time, one step at a time, trusting in God’s grace.
 
Yet here, Mary, in faith, asks the question, “How can this be?” She is faithful and she has room to wonder about the practical implications. Or think about an example from the Old Testament. 
 
Moses and the people Israel were both hungry and thirsty in the desert. Israelites cried out in their hunger and thirst, saying, “God you never liked us and you’re going to leave us to die in the desert.” Moses cried out, “God, you have always loved us, and I trust you to provide, even when I am hungry and thirsty.” Both were physically needy, both cried out, but one cried out in complaint and the other cried out in faith.
 
Or, take another example. Habakkuk the Old Testament prophet. He is crying out twice in his little three-chapter book. He’s angry with God. He questions God, but he questions him in faith. He is angry, but he listens for God’s answer in faith.
 
You can be honest to God, in faith. You can ask questions of God, in faith. You can even be afraid, in faith. Faith clings to God, knowing that what he wills is better than what we will. Or, as Paul says it, all the revelation of the mystery has now been disclosed and made known to all the nations, my gospel and the preaching of Jesus Christ.
 
Third, our reading concludes with the words of Mary, “I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your word.”
 
These are, once again, remarkable words. Said by a teenage, pregnant, engaged gal. Said in response to the revelation that she would be bearing the Son of God.  But the greater mystery is this: she is a servant of the Lord, but she was bearing the one who would serve the whole world. She might be a servant of the Lord, but the mystery of salvation is revealed in Christ that he will be servant of all, to bear the whole world’s sin. She may be servant of the Lord, a most remarkable woman, but the greater mystery is that God would deign in flesh to dwell among his people, to walk alongside of them, to speak with them, to reveal the mysteries that the ages haven’t unraveled, and to reveal them as a little baby is born in Bethlehem.
 
One wonders if these words in response to the angel were some of those things that Mary pondered in her heart when she saw the shepherds coming the night Jesus was born.
 
One wonders what Mary thought as she saw Simeon and Anna in the temple, telling her that a sword would pierce her own heart too as she saw her son be salvation for the people Israel and a light to reveal God to the Gentiles.
 
One wonders what Mary thought as she saw Jesus growing in wisdom and stature among the priests and Pharisees at the temple.
 
One wonders what Mary thought of these words as she saw her son, the Son of God, hanging derelict and still upon the cross. I am a servant of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word.
 
One wonders as she was there at the tomb to see that it was empty and Jesus was raised from the dead. Her life would never ever be the same. Her savior was raised. Our life will never ever be the same. Our savior died our death, and is risen for our life.
 
We are servants of the Lord, let it be according to your word.
 
Amen and amen.

​The Word of God Disrupts Our Sin and Shame
Fourth in a series, “The Disruptive Word”
Isaiah 40:1–11
Grace, mercy and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for this midweek Advent is Isaiah 40, very famous Advent words, “Comfort, Comfort my people says your God. A voice crying in the wilderness make straight his paths.” Our text thus far.
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
In the days of waiting and preparing for Christmas, in the season that we call Advent, we consider the disruptive Word of God. We consider how the Word of God does not leave us alone. It does not let us be, but instead that every advent is another calling for you to consider and reflect on your own lives, a time when you get to long again for Jesus Christ to come back and make all things right, a time when you pray for hope and ask God to remind you what hope is, pray for peace and ask God to remind you what peace is.
Today, we consider how the disruptive Word of God disrupts our sin and shame, and we consider that as we read Isaiah chapter 40.
Isaiah begins, with God talking: “‘Comfort, Comfort, my people,’ says your God.” Then he says, “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to her that her warfare is ended.”
So, what is comfort? It comes from the Latin, cum forte, which means “With Strength.” I think of my son, Amos Stanley. He’s a big three year old these days, big enough to get into some real bonkers, but little enough that he runs to us for comfort. It was just the other day that had bonked his head. He ran up the stairs. He cried in my arms, and I asked him what he needed. He said, “A hug.” I gave him the hug, and he ran away. He needed comfort. He needed my strength. He needed my presence.
Why is Isaiah supposed to cry “Comfort” to God’s people? We get the answer in the last three verses of chapter 39. The people were going to be carried off to Babylon. They were staring down the barrel of 70 years of servitude to yet another monstrous empire, and all the way from chapter one to chapter thirty-nine, Isaiah has been saying that this is a result of their sin and their shame. He is crying, “Comfort” to a people that feel trapped.
Have you ever felt trapped? One of my very favorite Poppa day games is all about this idea. We play a game called Blanket of Doom. It started out just as wrestling, but then I did my Pastor Muther thing to it, and now I run around with the blanket of doom in my hands until I catch one of the boys. I trap them in the blanket, and I always say the same. Ha ha! No one has gotten out of the blanket of doom for a thousand years.....” and then they escape. And eventually they start wrapping me up in the blanket of doom.
But, have you ever felt trapped? Trapped by your own choices? Trapped by what someone else is doing? Trapped by your circumstances? Unable to do what my boys did? Unable break free?
In the middle of that, Isaiah cries, “Comfort.” What should we take comfort from? Comfort, he says because your warfare is ended, your iniquity is pardoned.
He goes on. A voice cries, Comfort, because God has pardoned your iniquity, he has won your salvation, and in the wilderness, he is preparing a way. When Isaiah says, “Wilderness,” he doesn’t mean a picturesque walk in the Walden Woods. He means, in the harshest of environments, in the place where there is no straight path, no way forward, in the exact places of our lives where we feel most trapped, God has prepared a way.
God has made a level path. God has torn down the mountains so that he can make a straight way. He has filled up every valley so that he would not stop, he would not turn to the right, he would not turn to the left, but that he would make a straight path for his salvation to be yours.
You see, in this life, it seems like most days are anything but a straight path forward. We get side-tracked on a side path. We get distracted from what we thought we were supposed to do. Sometimes we spend hours doing something that we realize later was a waste of time. We feel like we’re not even moving at all. We’re just stuck in place.
But the mouth of the Lord has spoken. Your salvation is a path straight to the cross. Your salvation straightens out all the hills and valleys before God in your life. Your salvation makes your path, with all of its twists and turns, so that when you look back on your life, in Christ, you find that the miracle is he used it all so that he might be glorified.
A voice says, Cry. Comfort my people. Cry to them that their warfare is ended. Cry, in the wilderness, make straight the path of our God. Cry. Isaiah asks, “What shall I cry?” Then he has an aside.
All flesh is like grass. It springs up and withers. All flesh is like the flowers; they bloom and fade. He says, we can feel trapped, but the word of God reveals something deeper. Whether we feel trapped or not, the Word of God reveals that we are. Whether we see it or not, we are hemmed in. Whether we want to think about it today or not, we are trapped in this mortal coil. We are in a cycle of birth and death. Our sin leads to our death. Our sin leads to our eternal death.
But.
The grass withers and the flower fades but the Word of our God will stand forever. Trapped in sin and shame, we are set free by God’s salvation. Trapped by our own short mortality, we are set free by the eternal Son of God to live forever. We are set free....
To do exactly what Isaiah does here. A voice tells him, cry. Cry, Comfort, comfort my people. Raise your voice and cry that their warfare is ended, their iniquity is pardoned. Raise your voice and cry that God makes straight the path of his salvation. Raise your voice and cry that we never ever have to be afraid because we behold our God. We never ever have to be afraid because we are led like sheep by a shepherd.
The Gospel for you today is this, that in Christ, you are set free, and in Christ you never ever have to be afraid again. You do not have to be afraid because you are set free to love your neighbor as yourself. You do not have to be afraid of death because you are set free to eternal life. You never have to be afraid of hate because love incarnate comes down at Christmas. You never have to be afraid because when you suffer, you know you have a God who suffered all for you. You never ever have to be afraid because you live in a reality where the path of salvation is straight. Life ends not in death but in life. Iniquity is pardoned. And comfort is yours.
Amen and amen.

​The Word of God disrupts our lives
Second in a series, “The Disruptive Word”
Mark 1:1-8 // 2 Peter 3:8-14 // Isaiah 40:1-11
 
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is Mark 1:1-8, “The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord”
 
Last Sunday, we considered how God’s Word disrupts our fear and fatalism. Last Wednesday, we considered how God’s Word disrupts us to our very core.
 
Today, we consider how, when the Word of God is fulfilled, it disrupts our lives. It doesn’t leave us the same. It changes things.
 
The biggest events of life are never convenient. The biggest events of life don’t let you schedule them around other stuff. The biggest events of life force you to move all of your other little plans so that the biggest thing can be the biggest thing. As a pastor, I know this all too well. You can’t schedule how long your loved one has left on earth. You can’ tell your daughter that she better schedule her wedding on a day you don’t have golf. You can’t tell your wife to have the baby on a Tuesday and not during the big meeting I have. It just doesn’t work that way. The biggest events of life are never convenient, because the biggest events of life disrupt everything else, and force you to move all of your other little plans so that the biggest thing can be the biggest thing.
 
With that, we go to our text. The Word of God disrupted the lives of the people in John the Baptizer’s day. Isaiah the prophet’s words in Chapter 40 are fulfilled in the coming of John the Baptizer. Something was happening in the world that had not happened before even from the beginning of all time until now. 
 
From the time of the prophet Malachi until John’s day, for 400 years, there had been no prophets, but now a prophet was among the people of Israel, and more than that, THE prophet, the one who was to be a second Elijah, who was the fulfillment of prophecy walked among them, whom Jesus called the greatest man to ever walk the earth, John the Baptizer.
 
This was one of the greatest events of all time. What would it feel like to live at a time like that? So, what did people do? It changed their lives. Like the phenomenon that he was, John the Baptizer drew them out from their homes to hear him preach in the desert by the River Jordan. It disrupted their day to day lives to go out into the wilderness and see John. It took them out of their normal pattern to set aside time and see him.
 
And more than that. It wasn’t just the disruption of their day to day life. The message of John went deeper. He proclaimed a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. They came to repent. 
 
And what is repentance if not to change your ways, to go a different way, to see the harmful, sinful patterns you have fallen into and to walk a different direction.
 
And more than that. We find that John, the greatest prophet to live, the one who was foretold by Isaiah, the second Elijah, says that there is one who comes who is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. (This was the lowest job on the job chart). John says, I’m just the hors d’oeuvre; there’s a main course coming up. I’m just the warm up. The main act is on the way. I may be washing you with the pinnacle of Old Testament rituals, but the one who comes, Jesus Christ, will command you to go and baptize all nations with the Holy Spirit. 
 
Now, you might be thinking, “Well, Pastor, if I had lived in days like that, it certainly would be easier to live out my faith.” “If I could have been one to go and see John the Baptizer or follow Jesus as one of his disciples, life would definitely be different.” In response to that, I would say, “Perhaps.” But even if you lived on that mountaintop of an experience, still at some point, you’d have to descend to the plain. You’d have to go back to the city. Still you’d begin to have a day-to-day pattern again. 
 
What day-to-day patterns have you fallen into that need to be disrupted by God’s Word? What not-so-healthy ways have you fallen into that have turned from a choice into a pattern, from a pattern into a habit? Or, what do you need to repent of?
 
Perhaps it’s your consumption of alcohol during this pandemic. It started because you felt like you needed it to cope. It’s gotten worse and worse and it has to stop. Perhaps it’s your anger, especially toward your spouse. You know in your heart that they aren’t the problem, but you’re taking it out on them. Perhaps it's a pattern of hopelessness. You can’t see the light. You can’t find a bright spot in all of this. You don’t know how to get out. You need something to break up the pattern.
 
I have chunk of concrete in my office, on my shelf. It’s from right in front of the church, the old sidewalk right in front where the old doors were. The sidewalk was in good shape at the time, but we had to break it up. It looked good... except. Deep blow the surface of the concrete, we had a problem with water. Below the surface, in a place not readily seen, there was a problem, and the only way to get to the problem? Break up the concrete.
 
And I tell you that to tell you this. Often, the Word of God disrupts things in our lives that seem to be going well. It disrupts what appear to be good things, because of deep issues it will bring to light.
 
What good things in your life need to submit to Jesus Christ and his gospel? What needs to be broken up so that the gospel is brought to bear?
 
Advent is the changing of the season, a time of repentance and reflection, a time to change our ways, a time to let the Word of God disrupt the pattern of our lives once again.
 
Because the pure and simple Gospel is that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, has died for your sins; he has been raised for your life; he has sealed you with his Holy Spirit in your baptism, and his Gospel orders your whole life around him.
 
The pure and simple Gospel is preached in its purity right here, in our Sanctuary. It’s taught right here in our Bible studies. It never changes, but it comes fresh to us every time that it disrupts the patterns that we fall into. It comes fresh every time we have ears to hear it again.
 
Jesus Christ died, and more than that, was raised from the dead so that the sin-filled patterns of this world have no power of you. His word of forgiveness sets you free from every sin which clings so closely and temptation that would entangle. His body and his blood give strength like none other, so that you might meet the days ahead in hope.
 
Amen and amen.