To be crucified and to die
Good Friday, 2020 Isaiah 52:12–53:12 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Dear friends in Christ, Today we cut out crosses made of black to remember the crucifixion of our Lord. We ask good questions as families, like “Why did Jesus have to die for our sins?” “Why do we call today Good Friday?” Today, we pound nails into the cross, symbolizing that “it was our sin—not someone else’s but ours—that held him there until it was accomplished.” Tonight we look on as the darkness gathers, as the candles are snuffed out, as we sing songs of grief, as we hear Jesus’s last words from the cross, as we hear his loud cry. Tonight, I would invite you believe with all of your heart that this is a Good Friday. Tonight I would invite you to know with not just your head but with your whole being that darkness cannot prevail. Tonight, I would invite you see not just with the eyes on your head but with the eyes of faith that the death of Jesus is victory for us, that the violence of his crucifixion is peace for us, that the griefs he bears mean joy for us. Tonight, we find that the purpose of Jesus Christ, and for the Christian, the purpose of all the Holy Scriptures, the purpose of all of creation, was so that Jesus the Christ would come to be crucified and to die. Because not too far away from here is a woman who feels like she’s being crucified for her wrong choices. She’s diagnosed with a disease entirely of her own making, she’s torn between wanting to be done and wanting this never to have happened. She doesn’t know what to do, and today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from her is a family that is just barely making it. The money is drying up, the To-Do lists are growing, and they are getting desperate. They didn’t know how they would get through the summer ordinarily, and this, this feels like a kick when they were already down. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from them is a man who was just about to retire. He was days away from putting in for Social Security. He had worked hard and saved like they taught him, but right now, he went from the prime of his life to jobless, losing half his retirement, without a safety net, without a future, everything that he worked for down the drain. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. What do we say to folks as we all hurt together? What language do we use? How can we help when all that is so difficult is already out of our control? What makes today so Good? Two thoughts for tonight, as we consider the purposes of God on this Good and dark day. Purpose number one was that Jesus came to be crucified. Purpose number two is that Jesus came to die. Purpose number one. Jesus came to be crucified. The catechism says it like this. In Jesus’s crucifixion, he took my guilt and punishment upon himself. He freed me from the slavery to sin. Jesus suffered the capital punishment of his day. He received the fullest extent of the law for the very worst of crimes. He was counted, as Isaiah prophesied, among the sinners. Purpose number one, in other words, is that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. The fullest punishment, as opposed to a less-than-full punishment. I remember the worst grade that I ever got in grade school. It was a C- in 5th grade Spanish class. I remember my parents asking me what was going on, and the truth was that I didn’t like to memorize vocab. But I knew if I said that, I would receive a full punishment. So, I said that I just wasn’t good at Spanish, so that I would get a less-than-full punishment. That’s our temptation. Either to think that Jesus doesn’t know everything that we’ve done, he doesn’t know and couldn’t possibly pay for it, OR to think that we know more than Jesus; we can see a way that he didn’t, we understand the limits of forgiveness and salvation more than he does. But Isaiah says it like this: He bears the load of all our iniquities. He takes all of our stripes, and his wounds heal us. The great Gospel of Good Friday is that the punishment for the sin of the whole world is meted out on Jesus. There is no punishment left. There is no debt left unpaid; there is no crime left unjustified. All of God’s wrath, all of our sin, every bit of human suffering, Jesus has felt, he hs borne, he has paid for, not with gold or silver, but with his holy and precious blood, with his innocent sufferings and death. Purpose number one is that to be crucified means that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. Purpose number two. Jesus came to die. The catechism says it like this. Through his suffering, death and resurrection, Christ has triumphed over death. Since he now gives me eternal life I need not fear death. For the ancient Roman Empire, like every other ancient empire, death was not the point of capital punishment; it was a by-product. The crucifixion of Jesus was three hours, from noon until 3pm. The others were still alive close to sundown, and so their legs were broken to quicken their death. The standard practice was to try and elongate life, because dead people couldn’t suffer and the point of the punishment was to make them suffer for as long as possible. Their death ends the punishment. Death was not the point; in those days, it was a by-product. Because death was the end. I remember being an 8th grader and reading one of my very favorite book series, called the Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander. It was five books long, and I read all five books within a few weeks (actually I read the fourth book about once a week for the next year), and I remember finishing the final book, The High King, for the first time, and just sitting on our downstairs couch and just wishing that it hadn’t come to an end. I could imagine another book. I could imagine what the characters would do next, but in the end the books had come to an end. For everyone in our text, for everyone who was there that day, death was the end. There was no more. There was no revolution. There was no kingdom. There was no Messiah. Their last three years, and most likely their lives, were at an end. But this is Good Friday because with eyes of faith we see this truth: death which was a wall, death which was an end, in Jesus Christ death becomes a doorway. Death that was the final stop has now become the gateway to new life. The darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. The saddest day in human history has given way to joy that doesn’t have an end. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town scattered into living rooms and kitchen tables, together and yet not together at the same time. The familiar truths of Good Friday wash over them in an unfamiliar way, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like the body of Christ, scattered far and wide. They are tempted toward doubt, until they look at the savior hung upon a cross. They are tempted toward despair, until they look at the hope of the empty tomb. They are tempted toward weakness, until they look and see their savior, dying for their sins, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like a young man who’s not as young as he used to be. These days are strange for him, as they are for so many. On the darkest days, the weight of it all threatens to overwhelm him. And yet for him, on the cross, the darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. On the cross, the saddest day has given way to joy eternal, and once again, he finds himself amazed at how Good that Friday was. Amen and Amen.
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To be crucified and to die
Good Friday, 2020 Isaiah 52:12–53:12 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Dear friends in Christ, Today we cut out crosses made of black to remember the crucifixion of our Lord. We ask good questions as families, like “Why did Jesus have to die for our sins?” “Why do we call today Good Friday?” Today, we pound nails into the cross, symbolizing that “it was our sin—not someone else’s but ours—that held him there until it was accomplished.” Tonight we look on as the darkness gathers, as the candles are snuffed out, as we sing songs of grief, as we hear Jesus’s last words from the cross, as we hear his loud cry. Tonight, I would invite you believe with all of your heart that this is a Good Friday. Tonight I would invite you to know with not just your head but with your whole being that darkness cannot prevail. Tonight, I would invite you see not just with the eyes on your head but with the eyes of faith that the death of Jesus is victory for us, that the violence of his crucifixion is peace for us, that the griefs he bears mean joy for us. Tonight, we find that the purpose of Jesus Christ, and for the Christian, the purpose of all the Holy Scriptures, the purpose of all of creation, was so that Jesus the Christ would come to be crucified and to die. Because not too far away from here is a woman who feels like she’s being crucified for her wrong choices. She’s diagnosed with a disease entirely of her own making, she’s torn between wanting to be done and wanting this never to have happened. She doesn’t know what to do, and today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from her is a family that is just barely making it. The money is drying up, the To-Do lists are growing, and they are getting desperate. They didn’t know how they would get through the summer ordinarily, and this, this feels like a kick when they were already down. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. And not too far away from them is a man who was just about to retire. He was days away from putting in for Social Security. He had worked hard and saved like they taught him, but right now, he went from the prime of his life to jobless, losing half his retirement, without a safety net, without a future, everything that he worked for down the drain. Today feels like anything but a Good Friday. What do we say to folks as we all hurt together? What language do we use? How can we help when all that is so difficult is already out of our control? What makes today so Good? Two thoughts for tonight, as we consider the purposes of God on this Good and dark day. Purpose number one was that Jesus came to be crucified. Purpose number two is that Jesus came to die. Purpose number one. Jesus came to be crucified. The catechism says it like this. In Jesus’s crucifixion, he took my guilt and punishment upon himself. He freed me from the slavery to sin. Jesus suffered the capital punishment of his day. He received the fullest extent of the law for the very worst of crimes. He was counted, as Isaiah prophesied, among the sinners. Purpose number one, in other words, is that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. The fullest punishment, as opposed to a less-than-full punishment. I remember the worst grade that I ever got in grade school. It was a C- in 5th grade Spanish class. I remember my parents asking me what was going on, and the truth was that I didn’t like to memorize vocab. But I knew if I said that, I would receive a full punishment. So, I said that I just wasn’t good at Spanish, so that I would get a less-than-full punishment. That’s our temptation. Either to think that Jesus doesn’t know everything that we’ve done, he doesn’t know and couldn’t possibly pay for it, OR to think that we know more than Jesus; we can see a way that he didn’t, we understand the limits of forgiveness and salvation more than he does. But Isaiah says it like this: He bears the load of all our iniquities. He takes all of our stripes, and his wounds heal us. The great Gospel of Good Friday is that the punishment for the sin of the whole world is meted out on Jesus. There is no punishment left. There is no debt left unpaid; there is no crime left unjustified. All of God’s wrath, all of our sin, every bit of human suffering, Jesus has felt, he has borne, he has paid for, not with gold or silver, but with his holy and precious blood, with his innocent sufferings and death. Purpose number one is that to be crucified means that Jesus took upon himself the fullest punishment of the law. Purpose number two. Jesus came to die. The catechism says it like this. Through his suffering, death and resurrection, Christ has triumphed over death. Since he now gives me eternal life I need not fear death. For the ancient Roman Empire, like every other ancient empire, death was not the point of capital punishment; it was a by-product. The crucifixion of Jesus was three hours, from noon until 3pm. The others were still alive close to sundown, and so their legs were broken to quicken their death. The standard practice was to try and elongate life, because dead people couldn’t suffer and the point of the punishment was to make them suffer for as long as possible. Their death ends the punishment. Death was not the point; in those days, it was a by-product. Because death was the end. I remember being an 8th grader and reading one of my very favorite book series, called the Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander. It was five books long, and I read all five books within a few weeks (actually I read the fourth book about once a week for the next year), and I remember finishing the final book, The High King, for the first time, and just sitting on our downstairs couch and just wishing that it hadn’t come to an end. I could imagine another book. I could imagine what the characters would do next, but in the end the books had come to an end. For everyone in our text, for everyone who was there that day, death was the end. There was no more. There was no revolution. There was no kingdom. There was no Messiah. Their last three years, and most likely their lives, were at an end. But this is Good Friday because with eyes of faith we see this truth: death which was a wall, death which was an end, in Jesus Christ death becomes a doorway. Death that was the final stop has now become the gateway to new life. The darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. The saddest day in human history has given way to joy that doesn’t have an end. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town scattered into living rooms and kitchen tables, together and yet not together at the same time. The familiar truths of Good Friday wash over them in an unfamiliar way, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like the body of Christ, scattered far and wide. They are tempted toward doubt, until they look at the savior hung upon a cross. They are tempted toward despair, until they look at the hope of the empty tomb. They are tempted toward weakness, until they look and see their savior, dying for their sins, and they find themselves amazed at how Good that Friday was. The kingdom of heaven is like a young man who’s not as young as he used to be. These days are strange for him, as they are for so many. On the darkest days, the weight of it all threatens to overwhelm him. And yet for him, on the cross, the darkest day in human history has given way to sunlight. On the cross, the saddest day has given way to joy eternal, and once again, he finds himself amazed at how Good that Friday was. Amen and Amen. Palm Sunday: To Come and To Suffer
Holy Week 2020 John 12:12–19 // Isaiah 50:4–9a // Philippians 2:5–10 // John 12:20–43 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is John 12, the Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Today, we’re talking about assumptions, because we all have assumptions. Now, before you quote to me that old proverb of how you spell assume... did that cross your mind yet?... Let’s know first that everyone has assumptions, and in order to live regular life, you have to have assumptions. How do I know that? One person said it like this: “Nothing is on autopilot right now. And it's exhausting.” Because these last few weeks, when we can’t assume that things will stay the same, when we can’t act the way we always act, when we have to evaluate and reevaluate every move that we make, to act without assumption, these last few weeks have been exhausting. The deepest of these assumptions we call common sense. Have you ever caught yourself saying, “It’s just common sense!” It’s common sense to turn a light on if you’re in the dark. It’s common sense to turn your blinker on if you’re changing lanes. It’s common sense not to stick your set fingers into an electrical outlet And what about when someone doesn’t follow common sense? I told my son to put his underwear and pants and he puts on his pants, then his underwear. I go “Ahhgg!” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Or, I think about this. My wife put the thing next to the other thing, right by the door, thinking that I will see it when I leave the house and do the thing with both things, but then I don’t do anything with either of the things. Does that ever happen to you? I didn’t see it, or I didn’t think about it, or it just wasn’t as important to me. I’m not saying it’s not my fault, but you know her reaction. She goes “Ahhhgggg” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Why does that aggravate us so? Aggravate is the right word for it, for that feeling that goes along with the Ahhhggg sound. It’s different from when you’re hurt or when you’re mad or sad. It’s a sound of frustration, when you assume others will share your assumption. Things are not what they seemed to be. Can you relate to that feeling these days? Nobody is where they want to be. Nobody is doing what they want to do, and even if they are, they aren’t doing the way that they usually do. Today, I would invite you, on this Palm Sunday, to come to the foot of the cross. Today I would invite you to once again take all of your aggravation, all of your AAAAHhhhgggg, all of your frustration and lay it down once again like palm branches in front of Jesus as he goes to suffer on our behalf. With that feeling—with that understanding—we go to our text for today. Three assumptions that we would gather from the characters around Jesus. Three ways that we would correct our course in these days. Assumption number one: it was common sense—it was plain—to the crowds that Jesus had finally come into his own. They tried to make him king after the fed the (5,000) earlier. They are singing the same songs again, and in a sense, they are right. They’re saying the right words. They’re quoting the right Psalm—Psalm 118! They are calling Jesus the right things: the one who comes in the name of the Lord. He is a king. He’s coming to his throne. But. Even when they said the right words, they assumed the wrong things: the was a king of this world, that he would reign from Jerusalem, that the chains he was going throw off were those of the Roman Empire. And they were wrong. Assumption number two: It was common sense—it was plain—to everyone else in the narrative, to the disciples and to the Pharisees, that death awaited Jesus in Jerusalem. For the disciples it was plain that death was bad. They knew that Jesus was more than a bread king. He was more than a miracle worker; he was the Messiah, and for him to reign in the kingdom of heaven, well, even the Son of God had to be alive to rule a kingdom. Death wasn’t what they wanted, and it was common sense that it could be avoided and Jesus simply wasn’t working with common sense. Death was an abyss. Death was defeat. Death was the end. For the Pharisees death was good. “Better that one man die than a whole people perish.” And Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, was right. They were right that Jesus needed to die. But. They assumed that salvation for their people was letting their nation survive under the Roman empire. They, like the crowd, were looking to a physical kingdom, and they were prepared to pay any cost to keep it. But what if... what if we had a different assumption? What if we were working with a different purpose? His purpose was to come and to suffer. That’s what Isaiah 50 helps us begin to know. “I gave my back to those who strike.” He did allow himself to be flogged. “My cheeks to those who pull out the beard.” That means, he let others humiliate him. “I didn’t hide from disgrace and spitting.” But. Did you notice that in the OT text? But the Lord God helps me. I say it to my confirmation class often. There are a lot of big buts in the bible. Moses had a big but, David had a big but. Adam had a big but. Moses was a great leader but his anger got the best of him. David was a man after God’s own heart but even he fell into sin. Adam was created perfect but when given the choice to love freely he choose selfishness. But Jesus is the biggest reversal of them all. Jesus was God but he emptied himself of his power, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. But his humiliation was his glory. His death was not his end. The obedience that brought him down was the reason he was exalted to the highest places, was how he could win salvation for you and for me. Thought #1, The middle is not the end of the story. Let me tell you a little story. Our first child, Benny, was born September 30, 2015, and Laura was in labor for about 3 hours. I remember that moment of despair thinking, what if, what if she’s in this pain for 20 more hours? What if this is the end of the story? Those are the fears of the middle. What if this middle, this quarantine, lasted forever? What if this middle, this pain, doesn’t go away? What if this middle, this day of humiliation, this fear, this punishment never goes away? Dear friends in Christ, the good news is this, that the middle is not the end of the story. The good news is this, that Jesus came to Jerusalem expressly to suffer all he was appointed to suffer. The good news is this, that his path does not end in suffering but it leads, just as Philippians 2 says, it leads through suffering to glory. Thought #2, When we believe this, that the middle is not the end, when we say it again and again, and when are forced to cling to this truth, then we readjust our focus on what matters. These days, I have a longing in my heart to do ministry the way I’ve done it for my career: going to nursing homes, holding someone’s hand at a hospital bed, giving hugs after service... that’s one place where Pastor Griffin and I differ... but I can’t. Life does not look these days like it has. We don’t get to do what we want to do. But Jesus would bid us readjust our focus. Is the focus giving hugs and holding hands, or is our purpose to love our neighbor as ourselves? Well, you know the answer to that one. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town that is scattered in all sorts of locations, into homes and neighborhoods and living rooms. They cannot do what they’ve always done, and yet, their purpose stays the same: to make disciples for Jesus Christ. They cannot live like they’ve always lived, yet their Savior is still the same now and for always. They don’t know what’s ahead, and yet, they walk, one day at a time, one step at a time, trusting in their savior Jesus Christ, blessed be the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Today, of all days, let us walk the familiar path of Holy Week even in uncertain times. Today, of all days, let us remember the familiar story and let that story take over our lives. Today, of all days, let us remember that while we are in the middle, we know how this story ends. Amen and amen Palm Sunday: To Come and To Suffer
Holy Week 2020 John 12:12–19 // Isaiah 50:4–9a // Philippians 2:5–10 // John 12:20–43 Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Our sermon text for today is John 12, the Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, Today, we’re talking about assumptions, because we all have assumptions. Now, before you quote to me that old proverb of how you spell assume... did that cross your mind yet?... Let’s know first that everyone has assumptions, and in order to live regular life, you have to have assumptions. How do I know that? One person said it like this: “Nothing is on autopilot right now. And it's exhausting.” Because these last few weeks, when we can’t assume that things will stay the same, when we can’t act the way we always act, when we have to evaluate and reevaluate every move that we make, to act without assumption, these last few weeks have been exhausting. The deepest of these assumptions we call common sense. Have you ever caught yourself saying, “It’s just common sense!” It’s common sense to turn a light on if you’re in the dark. It’s common sense to turn your blinker on if you’re changing lanes. It’s common sense not to stick your set fingers into an electrical outlet And what about when someone doesn’t follow common sense? I told my son to put his underwear and pants and he puts on his pants, then his underwear. I go “Ahhgg!” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Or, I think about this. My wife put the thing next to the other thing, right by the door, thinking that I will see it when I leave the house and do the thing with both things, but then I don’t do anything with either of the things. Does that ever happen to you? I didn’t see it, or I didn’t think about it, or it just wasn’t as important to me. I’m not saying it’s not my fault, but you know her reaction. She goes “Ahhhgggg” I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. I thought it was just common sense. Why does that aggravate us so? Aggravate is the right word for it, for that feeling that goes along with the Ahhhggg sound. It’s different from when you’re hurt or when you’re mad or sad. It’s a sound of frustration, when you assume others will share your assumption. Things are not what they seemed to be. Can you relate to that feeling these days? Nobody is where they want to be. Nobody is doing what they want to do, and even if they are, they aren’t doing the way that they usually do. Today, I would invite you, on this Palm Sunday, to come to the foot of the cross. Today I would invite you to once again take all of your aggravation, all of your AAAAHhhhgggg, all of your frustration and lay it down once again like palm branches in front of Jesus as he goes to suffer on our behalf. With that feeling—with that understanding—we go to our text for today. Three assumptions that we would gather from the characters around Jesus. Three ways that we would correct our course in these days. Assumption number one: it was common sense—it was plain—to the crowds that Jesus had finally come into his own. They tried to make him king after the fed the (5,000) earlier. They are singing the same songs again, and in a sense, they are right. They’re saying the right words. They’re quoting the right Psalm—Psalm 118! They are calling Jesus the right things: the one who comes in the name of the Lord. He is a king. He’s coming to his throne. But. Even when they said the right words, they assumed the wrong things: the was a king of this world, that he would reign from Jerusalem, that the chains he was going throw off were those of the Roman Empire. And they were wrong. Assumption number two: It was common sense—it was plain—to everyone else in the narrative, to the disciples and to the Pharisees, that death awaited Jesus in Jerusalem. For the disciples it was plain that death was bad. They knew that Jesus was more than a bread king. He was more than a miracle worker; he was the Messiah, and for him to reign in the kingdom of heaven, well, even the Son of God had to be alive to rule a kingdom. Death wasn’t what they wanted, and it was common sense that it could be avoided and Jesus simply wasn’t working with common sense. Death was an abyss. Death was defeat. Death was the end. For the Pharisees death was good. “Better that one man die than a whole people perish.” And Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, was right. They were right that Jesus needed to die. But. They assumed that salvation for their people was letting their nation survive under the Roman empire. They, like the crowd, were looking to a physical kingdom, and they were prepared to pay any cost to keep it. But what if... what if we had a different assumption? What if we were working with a different purpose? His purpose was to come and to suffer. That’s what Isaiah 50 helps us begin to know. “I gave my back to those who strike.” He did allow himself to be flogged. “My cheeks to those who pull out the beard.” That means, he let others humiliate him. “I didn’t hide from disgrace and spitting.” But. Did you notice that in the OT text? But the Lord God helps me. I say it to my confirmation class often. There are a lot of big buts in the bible. Moses had a big but, David had a big but. Adam had a big but. Moses was a great leader but his anger got the best of him. David was a man after God’s own heart but even he fell into sin. Adam was created perfect but when given the choice to love freely he choose selfishness. But Jesus is the biggest reversal of them all. Jesus was God but he emptied himself of his power, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. But his humiliation was his glory. His death was not his end. The obedience that brought him down was the reason he was exalted to the highest places, was how he could win salvation for you and for me. Thought #1, The middle is not the end of the story. Let me tell you a little story. Our first child, Benny, was born September 30, 2015, and Laura was in labor for about 3 hours. I remember that moment of despair thinking, what if, what if she’s in this pain for 20 more hours? What if this is the end of the story? Those are the fears of the middle. What if this middle, this quarantine, lasted forever? What if this middle, this pain, doesn’t go away? What if this middle, this day of humiliation, this fear, this punishment never goes away? Dear friends in Christ, the good news is this, that the middle is not the end of the story. The good news is this, that Jesus came to Jerusalem expressly to suffer all he was appointed to suffer. The good news is this, that his path does not end in suffering but it leads, just as Philippians 2 says, it leads through suffering to glory. Thought #2, When we believe this, that the middle is not the end, when we say it again and again, and when are forced to cling to this truth, then we readjust our focus on what matters. These days, I have a longing in my heart to do ministry the way I’ve done it for my career: going to nursing homes, holding someone’s hand at a hospital bed, giving hugs after service... that’s one place where Pastor Griffin and I differ... but I can’t. Life does not look these days like it has. We don’t get to do what we want to do. But Jesus would bid us readjust our focus. Is the focus giving hugs and holding hands, or is our purpose to love our neighbor as ourselves? Well, you know the answer to that one. The kingdom of heaven is like a large church in a small town that is scattered in all sorts of locations, into homes and neighborhoods and living rooms. They cannot do what they’ve always done, and yet, their purpose stays the same: to make disciples for Jesus Christ. They cannot live like they’ve always lived, yet their Savior is still the same now and for always. They don’t know what’s ahead, and yet, they walk, one day at a time, one step at a time, trusting in their savior Jesus Christ, blessed be the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Today, of all days, let us walk the familiar path of Holy Week even in uncertain times. Today, of all days, let us remember the familiar story and let that story take over our lives. Today, of all days, let us remember that while we are in the middle, we know how this story ends. Amen and amen Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
Let me quote again something my pastor would say, “Never waste a good crisis.” Today is a day when we can express the particularly and peculiarly Christian rhythms of our life in the way that we spend our time, the way that we demonstrate our values, and the way that we love our neighbor. What we’ve done so far. Community leaders met and formed a network of communication among our Janesville community organizations. We have a Janesville website on COVID-19 matters. Our Foodshelf has stepped up to change protocols so that they can be safe and meet what will be growing food needs in the coming days (and possibly weeks or more). Our school has been hard at work with distance learning since March 17. This continues through the Stay-at-Home order, with our teachers and principal teaching classes, grading assignments, and giving devotions. We have online Sunday School up and running through a Facebook group. Youth livestreamed Crossfire and are in touch via Zoom meetings. Our church has been offering a live-stream option on Facebook and broadcasts recorded services on the local access cable channel. We have daily Facebook livestream devotions and two Bible study times available via YouTube. We have asked elders to call all those on their member lists to check on them. We have postponed our Annual Voters Meeting indefinitely. Confirmation has been postponed until Fall. What we’re doing. Our school has been in contact with families and students to listen to concerns and improve education. Our purpose statement in these days is that we will take into account the CDC guidelines and continue to provide opportunities for Word and Sacrament ministry to our congregations. Our church office is calling our shut-in list weekly and following up on vulnerable people. Our Youth Ministry has been doing the same with youth. We are in close contact with our local Foodshelf. We have distributed Neighbor Connect cards to local businesses. We realize the economic toll that this situation takes on businesses, people, and communities, and the church is not immune to it. We are getting it wrong, making mistakes, asking good questions, improving, and walking alongside of countless others as we all do the same in these strange and uncertain days remembering that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). What we hope to add. We are working to improve the quality of our livestream services. We are considering the CARES act legislation, which includes support for organizations like ours. Whenever guidelines return to “Gatherings of 10 or Less,” we will be offering small group communions for healthy individuals and families. A written and video explanation of our precautions and protocols will be available at that time. We are offering family Holy Week devotion kits, Holy Week Livestream services on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday at 6:30pm, Easter Sunday 6am and 10am, with To-Go Brunch pick up and Prayer with the Pastors options in between. What we ask you do. We ask that you would 1) Engage with your church: worship and study your Bible however you can, 2) Engage with your neighbor in appropriate ways and listen for needs your church and community can help fill, and 3) Engage in giving so that your church and school continue to bless the community. In Christ, Pastor Muther |
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October 2022
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