A Doctrine of Cringe

Cringe is an instinctive recoil from something you don’t want to be associated with. Usually because of embarrassment. There are associated categories. Camp is something done in a flagrantly flamboyant way. It would be cringe, except that everyone knows it is being done for a joke. Tyler Perry’s Madea or the long history of men dressing up as women is camp. When you lose the joke and someone thinks it is serious, it is cringe inducing. And everyone just wants to get away from the uncomfortable situation. There flip sides to cringe and camp. Something that is venerable might be the opposite to camp. The Lord’s Supper is venerable. Simple vestments on a minister – the purpose of which are to disguise the actual man under the mantle of office – are venerable. At various times and places people have tried to turn them into camp. But sadly only the church itself seems to be able to do that when it stops treating the sacrament with veneration it becomes camp. And anyone associated with the church growth movement of the past 20-30 years probably knows the word winsome. It is the opposite of cringe. A winsome witness is one that attracts. Which was the entire goal of that movement.

The Bible and hence the church has a number of teachings, call them doctrines or dogmas. And these teachings really never change. The creeds are a summation of some of them: Creation and providence, the person of Christ and justification, Sanctification and means of the Holy Spirit. The catechism or the service itself adds the practice and administration of the Sacraments. There are other doctrines that grow out of the life of faith. And it is interesting to me how in each era of the church can treat certain doctrines as cringe and others as venerable, some as winsome while others as camp.

For example, the late middle ages had a thing for bridal imagery. You can hear Reformation echoes of it in many hymns. The Bridegroom Soon Will Call Us (LSB 514) or Soul, Adorn Yourself with Gladness (LSB 636) – “Hasten as a bride to meet him, and with loving rev’rence greet Him…” And such bridal language is solid biblical teaching. But in our sexually confused era many of these – especially if you go beyond the hymns and read for example Bernard of Cluny’s devotional writings – it dips into cringe. At least for men. Cringe at the level of “Jesus is My Boyfriend” songs.

Paul in our epistle reading today (1 Corinthians 12:1-11) is talking about a deeper teaching that causes the widest range of reactions. “Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be uninformed.” To many high enlightenment academically trained theologians you have entered the realm of cringe. So much so that that many churches stopped teaching this doctrine. They developed their own doctrine called cessationism. A strict Calvinist would simply say 1 Corinthians 12 is a dead letter for all of us outside of the apostolic generation, because spiritual gifts have ceased. At the same time you have the largest modern Christian movement – Pentecostalism – which is completely centered around spiritual gifts and their use.

That division, much of Old Mainline Protestantism being cessationist, if not formally in reality, while many Christians being driven by their experiences into Pentecostal type churches, is exactly what Paul is trying to address. Most of the letter of 1 Corinthians is addressing various divisions. To the people that might find spiritual gifts as cringe, Paul straightforwardly says. “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.” Don’t quench the Spirit. To the people who find them the only interesting thing, be aware of the danger. First Paul seems to pair them up. “To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge.” The flashier gifts find their balance in the more grounded. And these are all from the same Spirit. Don’t get haughty about your experience.

Paul’s point is that the one body has many members, and we all need each other. And if our era thinks hands are cringey, it would still be foolish to cut them off. Likewise, something might be very venerable, but if that is the only thing the church does, “if the whole body were an eye, where is the sense of hearing? (1 Corinthians 12:17).” If we let our era’s reactions, be they cringe or veneration, decide on the validity of doctrines, we probably find ourselves hacking up the body of the church. Instead we should seek out how the Spirit is “manifesting for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:7).”

The Flames

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. – Isaiah 43:2

We’ve probably all been watching the California fires. The reaction to these seems a bit subdued if anything. If I was taking a guess, it’s because they are somewhat unimaginable. Comprehending Pasadena burning or the Hollywood Hills is just not something that seemed possible. The search for Mrs. O’Leary’s cow will be impressive. (The apocryphal cause of the Great Chicago Fire.) So imagine turning to the assigned texts for Sunday and finding the above verse. The lectionary is way more topical than it has any right to be.

The Pacific Southwest District of the LCMS has eight (8) congregations in the area. As of Thursday morning all of them are still standing. Lots of evacuation. Some reports of members houses burned and further of students. Fairly universal power outages. But Trinty in Simi Valley’s report seems to summarize, “In ‘the eye of the storm’ with lots of wind but no smoke or fire.” Prayers are requested. But jumping immediately to a divine deliverance proclamation is too simple, even if that is what we would like. It would be nice if there was a divine hedge around us protecting us from the unimaginable. But that really isn’t what Isaiah is saying. What God is telling us here is better.

I’d suggest you read Isaiah 42 and 43 together if you have the time. Isaiah 42 is one of the “Servant Songs” which might be familiar. It starts off extolling the servant who “a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench. (Isaiah 42:3).” It proceeds through a call to “Sing to the LORD a new song, his praise from the ends of the earth (42:10).” But then it turns. Israel does not accept the Lord’s Servant. God does these things and does not forsake them, but “they say to metal images, ‘you are our gods’ (42:17).” Having turned from God they receive their due. “This is a people plundered and looted, they are all of them trapped in holes and hidden in prisons (42:22).” Isaiah is prophesying to those in exile attempting to understand their situation. Chapter 42 concludes that God has “set him (the servant) on fire all around, but he did not understand; it burned him up, but he did not take it to heart (42:25).”

The servant is both Israel as type and Christ as fulfillment. Israel failed, Christ is Israel reduced to one who succeeds. He takes our deserved baptism of fire. And that is where Chapter 43 begins. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine (43:1).” Being God’s people doesn’t exempt us from the floods and fires of this life. It doesn’t take us out of a fallen world groaning for the revelation. We still pass through the waters. The rivers still rise. Fires still blaze. But the promise is that “I will be with you (43:2).” The promise is that this life “will not consume you (43:2).” And the “you” is “everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made (43:7).” We have a savior. The LORD our God, the Holy One of Israel. “Before me no god was formed, nor shall there be any after me. I, I am the LORD, and besides me there is no savior (43:10-11).”

The disasters of this life, far from being reasons to deny God, which is what the world wants us to do, are the opportunities to realize that God has drawn near to us. That in the midst of the fires, God is with us. And we shall not be consumed. That even if everything is lost, in my flesh I shall see God. The LORD makes a path in the sea. The waters of baptism now save you. The chariot and horse, the army and warrior, the wars and rumors of war that threaten to consume, “they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick (Isaiah 43:17).” And this is done so that we might be his witnesses (43:10), “that they might declare my praise (43:21).”

Israel would not do this. “Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob; but you have been weary of me, O Israel (43:22).” Yet God is faithful. “I will not remember your sins (43:25).” Which leaves it to us. Are we willing to witness. That even in the midst of disaster God is with us. Are we willing to praise? That Christ has saved us eternally. Fear not, for the LORD shall gather all his people, “bring my sons from afar, and my daughters from the ends of the earth (43:6).” For this we were made, to glorify God our savior.

Epiphany Stories

Epiphany – which on the calendar is always January 6^th, the 13^th day after Christmas, the Christmas season having 12 days – has a few Bible stories that are associated with it. The alternate name for Epiphany used by the Eastern Church, Theophany, might help in understanding. It all relates to a God showing forth. It is a sudden manifestation of our recognition of God in our midst. Christmas isn’t necessarily an Epiphany because nobody other than Mary and Joseph, the angels and the shepherds, recognized that this was God in our midst. The Epiphany is when we recognize who Jesus is. This is also how the word Epiphany crosses over to our general usage which is something like the personal recognition of a large truth. But the largest often hidden truth is the Godhood of Jesus Christ.

The stories associated with Epiphany are first the Magi and the star. God was shown forth by those wise men and their gifts. They traveled to find the King of the Jews, most likely guided by their astrological star sign. And then arriving at the Jewish palace, they are guided by a moving star – probably an angel – and their dreams to Nazareth, a town not even on the maps. God started to make himself known to those far off. And those gentiles bring him gold, signifying a kingly crown, frankincense, signifying a priestly calling, and myrrh signifying a prophetic purpose. Jesus manifest early as prophet, priest and king.

The second story associated with Epiphany is our gospel lesson today- the boy Jesus in the temple. The teachers of the law, the Jewish sages of that day, taking notes from a 12 year old amazed at his understanding and answers. But it might be the Epiphany missed that is more open to meditation. Said of Mary, “they did not understand the saying that he spoke to them.” That saying being “I must be in my Father’s house” to Mary’s chastisement of Jesus. His time was not yet. And so he returned and was submissive to them.

Which leads to the third story, the Wedding at Cana. It is a story that reverses the child in the Temple. Mary comes to Jesus about the problem with the wine. She knows now who he is and what he can do. Jesus says “It’s not my time.” But he then turns the water into wine performing “the first of the signs.” No longer submissive to Mary, Mary indicates it might be his time and tells everyone to do what he says. There is a very human interplay of the child desiring to move on early and the mother not ready morphing into the young man not wanting to set out and the good mother saying it is time.

The final story of Epiphany in the Baptism of Jesus. You get the full Theophany – God shining forth – in the voice of the Father, the descending dove of the Spirit and the Son exiting the waters. “This is my Son with whom I am well pleased.” The gospel retellings are interesting. Matthew tells the theophany as being audible and visible to all. Mark tells it as Jesus alone heard and saw. John holds that he Baptist gave witness to the voice and the dove (John 1:32-34). And Luke our gospel this year? Luke drily reports that it happened without any comment. There is something of every Epiphany in there. Not everyone sees and hears the same thing. At least not at first. We all grow into real Epiphanies. They take time to process.

All these stories are early. All are before Jesus begins his active ministry. They are hints of what is to come, but to the attentive it is all there. Which I tend to think is exactly how God works in the this world. When he reveals himself, it is all there. God does not withhold himself. But we are only able to process so much at any one time. Some Epiphanies are probably too big for our one life. We will be pondering them in our hearts until the resurrection. Other parts are made clear early. It is part of the grace of God that he reveals himself to far away magi and very close mothers. And in that grace is his steadfast love, that wherever we are at, we might come to know Him more fully.

The Christmas Promise of Security?

And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth. And he shall be their peace. – Micah 5:4

Out of my finance background the primary question was always the balance of risk and return. And the best answer for almost everybody is that you are not Warren Buffet. You will not beat the market. Accept the market return and minimize your cost through some type of passive index fund. You will not get rich quick. Depending upon how much you save, you might never get rich. But if you start putting away 10% of your income in the typical S&P 500 index when in your 20’s, you’ll be more than comfortable by retirement. And if you aren’t, it is because everything went to hell and nobody is comfortable. The psychological fact of finance is that it is all comparative. In fact if you stop saving after 10 years, you will have more than someone who did nothing during those 10 years but starts in their 30’s and does it every year all the way until retirement. Compound interest is a massive force. Of course the real question for the young and financial is: How do I get stinking rich? And all the good advice – diversification, index, low cost, compound interest – all that goes out the window. If you want to get stinking rich, you have to find the one golden egg and put everything you have in that one basket. Find the one tree that grows straight to heaven.

When I think about preaching the gospel and various biblical metaphors for it, I love the commercial ones: debt, redemption, forgiveness. Most Lutherans hang out in the legal ones: Justification, Adoption, Inheritance. I try and stretch myself to the deliverance ones – liberation, victory – because those are the way out of the pit. Those are the ones that speak to the black dog. There are others. God’s word is surprisingly robust in the various ways it speaks about what Jesus does for us. But one that I have trouble with is the core of Micah’s passage – security.

My trouble comes from a couple of items. The security is in the promise and the one who promises. It is on the far side of the victory. We can certainly know that security now, but it is less realized than redemption or forgiveness. The cross has a historical reality that makes real redemption. We have all given and received forgiveness.

Sometimes for terrible deeds. But right now, We Walk in Danger All the Way. Security seems so far away. The other reason is the financial idea I started off with. The security of God doesn’t come from diversifying. The security of God comes from the dramatic act of faith. It comes from putting all the eggs into the manger. That this babe, born in Bethlehem Ephrathah, too little to be among the tribes of Judah, is the ruler of Israel. And more than Israel, that Jesus is in fact God incarnate, who sits at the right hand of God Almighty and will judge the quick and the dead – to the ends of the earth. The request of God is faith. All our eggs in the manger.

Security, it’s dangerous. People want it almost as bad as young finance guys want to get rich quick. As Franklin warned, don’t trade liberty for security because you will get neither. Although fear always seems like the best motivator. But power and fear are not what God chose. God put all his eggs for saving mankind in the manger. He chose the weakest form. He showed up as a baby. And the security is a promise. The Kingdom of Heaven is near and it is in your midst. Today it hides in grace and mercy. Today the violent can take it by force. But their time is short. For soon our sad divisions cease. And the Christ shall raise his scepter, decreeing endless peace. And we shall dwell securely.

Guilt, Shame and the Good News

That something can both be a cliché and not well understood is a paradox I keep running across. The biggest one might be all the people who think they understand the gospel and then equate that good news with “be nice.” And if they have arrived at that point, you will never preach or explain them out of it. Only events will move them. Another one is the difference between guilt and shame. Those are the two words in English that cover the result of sin. We can feel guilty, or we can feel ashamed. They are related, but worlds apart.

One can be guilty without feeling any shame. “I did it, and I’m glad I did it.” One can be guilty, but think the offense is ticky-tack. Like getting a ticket for 73mph in a 65mph zone. There are also all the cases that won’t land you in the legal system, they might even be encouraged by sections of society, but are still contrary to the law of God. I often think how we just blow right past the 9^th and 10^th commandments. Luther’s explanation of the 9^th would hold us guilty if we scheme to get our neighbor’s stuff in a way which only appears right. The law requires that we be of help and service to our neighbor in keeping what they have. But so much of our capitalist system is schemes to extract everything we can from our neighbors. And I’m a capitalist, fully credentialed with MBA/CFA, but pushing credit cards with 30% interest on 20 year olds, or $100k student loans, or gambling devices on your phone at any time, especially when they will kick you off if you win too much, but big losers will get personal contact. These are all legal, and they appear right. The people taking the other side do so willingly. They sign the paperwork. That doesn’t remove the guilt of the scheme.

Maybe it is here that guilt moves into shame. It is the other side of those schemes that eventually feel shame. Did they do anything wrong in a guilt sense? You can argue that the gambler knew they were in a zero-sum game. If they got richer, they were making someone else poorer. And the only reason they would enter that would be envy. But I think I’d argue in most of these cases that the people entering into such schemes don’t recognize the wrong. Which doesn’t remove any guilt, but it does mitigate it. What does happen is that when you become cognizant – when all of sudden you have eaten the apple and know that you are naked – you feel shame. Shame at naivete. Shame at the justifications employed to engage in various activities. Shame at being brought low and being made a fool. What might seem like years of never-ending shame digging out from a moment’s mistake. Like wearing a scarlet letter, although in our day and age I think that letter would be a D, for debt instead of the A for adultery. It is interesting that like the cheeks that burn, both are marked by red-ink.

The Reformation church I think spends most of its time on guilt. The law is proclaimed which increases the trespass (Romans 5:20). The purpose of the law is to help us understand “ticky-tack” breakings of the law of a Holy God are disqualifying. We are called to be perfect, as our Father is perfect (Matthew 5:48). And when we’ve felt the guilt and cried out with Paul, “who will deliver me from the body of death (Romans 7:24)?” We proclaim the good news of free remission. What our Old Testament Lesson says first, “The LORD has taken away the judgements against you (Zephaniah 3:15).”

The Reformation church spends it time on guilt, but the gospel also has something to say about shame. And maybe it’s the bigger thing the gospel promises. Because long after we might have accepted the remission of sins, we might still be dealing with the results of sin. We might also just be dealing with a world that is fallen. We might be in a shameful position not because of acts we have done, but just because that is the way the world is. How does the remnant of Israel in the decadence of the time before the exile feel? How does an exile after 70 years, 3 generations later, feel? Yes, Isreal was sinful, and that had brought on the shame. But why is it falling on me? What have I done to deserve this? Yet it is shameful.

The gospel in Zechariah addresses the shame. “I will gather those of you who mourn for the festival, so that you will no longer suffer reproach…I will save the lame and gather the outcast, and I will change their shame into praise (Zechariah 3:18-19).” The promise of God is that He shall be our pride. The LORD loves you. And from his love he shall restore your fortunes. “He will quiet you by his love.” When the shame cries out, it is met with the love of God. “he will exult over you with loud singing…for I will make you renowned and praised (Zechariah 3:17, 20).” Rejoice O daughter of Jerusalem, for the LORD reigns, and his promises to you are sure.

Gospel Time

As the days get shorter, 15 days until the winter solstice, my mind always returns to contemplation of time. Maybe it is the hymn planning. “Of the Father’s Love begotten, e’re the worlds began to be…”. The advent ones are all about waiting and coming. The Christmas ones are about “the golden hour” or “see, the gentle lamb appears, promised from eternal years.” It is a season that compresses time and space. I was looking at photo of myself holding probably 1.5 year old Anna in winter finery and a red hat on the way to church asking “where did those two people go?”

We tell narratives. We like to connect those moments. That guy on the porch with his young daughter with snow around is somehow connected to this guy with an adult daughter sitting in the desert. And it is not that our narratives are wrong, but that there is always some trouble with them. One of the biggest binaries is probably people who tell decline narratives vs. people who tell progress narratives. Did you get kicked out of Eden at some point in the past and have been tumbling down ever since? Or are you the type to tell the story of advancing from victory unto victory each step getting better? The long arc of the universe bending toward justice.

The gospel this church year is Luke’s. And Luke’s gospel is really volume 1 with Acts being volume 2. Luke-Acts has a long history of being read as the progressive march of salvation history. From Jesus to the 12 to the 120 gathered at the ascension to the 3000 at Pentecost to the entire world at Paul takes the gospel to Rome. But there are always troubles with narratives, especially progress narratives. Without revelation how do we know that the “progress” is really the work of God? We know that Luke’s is, because it is revealed, but ours? What about the lean years and troubles, do those times not count? What about people who get in the way, are they enemies to be thrown down? Are you sure enough to do that?

I’m not tossing away salvation history with its narrative and numbers. The bible does tell a narrative of the people of God. But the way we move through time, the way we think about time, does not always match up with the way God talks about time. We live in tick-tock time and occasionally feel the golden hour. We live in time that is often one thing after another, but occasionally we are struck like the food critique in the Pixar film Ratatouille, old cantankerous and alone Anton taken back in a moment to his mother’s table and the best food he ever had. Or like Scrooge seeing his younger self as Old Fezziwig’s and the mistake of letting his love go. That appointed time, that golden hour, that time of apocalypse, of seeing.

The gospel works on appointed times. The Kingdom of Heaven draws near. It invades our mundane time and redeems it. It creates beachheads in space. Times of refining. Times of celebration. Times when you know like Jacob waking up from the ladder that “the LORD is here.” “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…(Luke 3:1)”. When this old world was tick-tock-ing along like is always does, “the word of GOD came to John the son of Zachariah in the wilderness…prepare the way of the LORD.” And that Kingdom breaks into our mundane time and space and claims it. Because once you’ve seen it, you know. The veil has been lifted. “And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” Not in some narrative of salvation history. But long after my skin has been destroyed – after I can no longer connect 30 year old me with whatever age me and the narratives I tell myself no longer make sense even to me – long after that, “yet in my flesh I shall see God (Job 19:26).” The crooked shall become straight, and the rough places plain.

Return of the King

“And this the name by which it will be called: The LORD is our righteousness.” – Jeremiah 33:16

The first Sunday of Advent always seems out of place to me and I’m not exactly sure why. The primary gospel lesson assigned has always been Palm Sunday. It is the Advent of the King. I think it might be because the Pastor I had growing up always switched the lesson up. If my memory is still working, I tend to remember a couple of Apocalypse Sundays. And there is an alternate text given. It could also just be that as an American, speaking about Kings seems foreign, maybe traitorous. We are citizens, not subjects. But the Advent Palm Sunday is about all the legends of the Return of the King and a dwelling of peace.

In the Old Testament you can talk about three covenants. (Well, there is a 4^th, but that one with Noah is something of a prefigurement of the three. Noah receives the promise of no more floods which can only be received by faith. And immediately after men have no faith and start building the Tower of Babel. Noah also receives a bit of the law in regards to killing men and animals (Genesis 9). And according to the apocryphal book of Jubilees that Noahide law had six of the 10 commandments.) The three primary covenants are the one of Faith through Abraham, the law of Sinai through Moses, and the promise of a King with an eternal throne through David. The old testament reading for this Sunday (Jeremiah 33:14-16) reminds of all three covenants. “At that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David, and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.”

We have a natural sense of justice. Those Noahide laws, the 10 commandments, are a revelation of the natural law. A major part of the purpose of a King is to execute justice. But a King is also called “Your Grace.” Not only executing justice, the King is to execute righteousness. And it is that grace, that righteousness which is tougher. We have no true innate sense of righteousness. We only know it when we see it. And even then in our fallen condition don’t always see it let alone desire it. Because right now, to fulfill the law and justice, the cross is our righteousness. Our King took his own punishment. The LORD is our righteousness that he might treat us by his grace.

On that first Advent the King came to execute righteousness. “In those days Judah will be saved (Jeremiah 33:16),” But we await the return of the King. “In those days….Jerusalem will dwell securely.” We know the law, but the devil the world and our flesh are still too much with us. Our righteousness and salvation are sure in Christ, but what we will be has not yet appeared. We walk in danger all the way. The stewards can be faithless. Tragedies befall kingdoms of this world. We long for the righteous branch. We wait for the King to approach Jerusalem once again. And to enter that heavenly city, where the righteous might dwell securely under the eternal throne.

It’s Camelot and Gondor and Rome and Constantinople and Shang-Ri-La and Atlantis and Avalon and every legend, but made real. The LORD becomes incarnate. The LORD has raised up a righteous branch for David. The LORD keeps his promises. His covenants are true. The King shall come when morning dawns. And he shall execute justice and righteousness. And we shall dwell securely under his throne.

Proper Wonder

“Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look at the earth beneath…- Isaiah 51:6”

Every landscape has its own features that if you look at them – see them – cause you to fall into wonder about time and distance, about how short and small are yours and how long and far is the earth. As a child of the Midwest being able to stare into the distance and see all the way to the horizon. Growing up on the Mississippi, and having known a kid swept away by the river, its power unknowable. The age of the Allegheny mountains worn down and centuries of mines that haven’t come close to exhausting the supply. And when moving out to Arizona, seeing actual mountains for the first time gave new meaning to the call for the mountains to fall on us. I remember the feeling driving through them up to Las Vegas for a baseball tournament. How the mountains, if they even noticed the cars traveling like ants through them, must be chuckling at all the hustle. They were there before anything and would outlast everything. And then you lift up your eyes to the heavens and consider the time span it took for the light of many of the stars to reach us, lengths so long that you have to make up words – light-years, parsecs – such that you can fool yourself that you comprehend what you are thinking about.

God tells his people to look at these things. Feel those feelings. And then He says, “for the heavens will vanish like smoke, and they earth will wear out like a garment, and they who dwell in it will die in a like manner (Isaiah 51:6).” As magnificent and eternal as the material world looks, to God is it temporal. Nothing more than smoke that blows away. A favorite garment that eventually becomes threadbare and hole-y. That is not only the way of all flesh, but of all matter. It is here for a time. But that time is nothing compared to its purpose.

The purpose of the material is so that we might understand the glory and righteousness of God. “My salvation will be forever, and my righteousness will never be dismayed (Isaiah 51: 6).” Our souls which are still able to be struck by the time and distance of the heavens above and the earth beneath are able to learn through them about the one who supports them all. We are able to know that God is just and his law has gone out from him, and that his law is a light to the peoples. (Isaiah 51:4). We are also able to know, because He took on our flesh, He entered our material, that His salvation has gone out. And that salvation reaches as far as the coastlands (Isaiah 51:5). The coastlands, which to the hill people of Judea were Tarshish, the unimaginable ends of the earth, hope in the LORD. The coastlands are part of the covenant.

It is the last Sunday of the Church year. The long green season is at its end. The colors go blue or purple next week. Another cycle of fast and feast begins. In the midst of the hustle of the next month, take a minute to lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look – see – the earth beneath. Let the natural wonder come. But then let that wonder attach to what it all gives witness to. The one who made it all. While thus they sing your Monarch, Those bright angelic bands, Rejoice, O vales and mountains, and oceans clap your hands.

Keeping Track

One of the things I put together for congregational meetings is a summary of attendance and giving. If you’ve been to a congregational meeting you’ve seen my slide. I often joke with those close that the reason I do it is that I need more reasons to be depressed. Although that failed when I put it together for our June meeting. All the numbers were up. I could tell a glory story.

But that leads to some of the real reasons. I’d like to tell a glory story, but the glory story only belongs to Christ. As Paul wrote, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. (1 Cor. 3:6-7)” If the numbers are good, praise be to Christ who has blessed us. When things are good, thanksgiving is always a good response.

Another reason I put together such numbers is to give a moment for contemplation if they are bad. Call it a first use of the law – the curb – reason. I’d rather hit a curb than a wall. And the longer you put off some contemplations the taller the curb gets. Looking at numbers at least twice a year is the opportunity to ask “has something changed that needs repentance?” Repentance is always an appropriate response of faith.

But even if the top line numbers are down, that might be hiding a different type of growth. A growth that is not easy to measure or put a number on. Part of that contemplation is thinking about ways that we might have experienced Spiritual growth. Spiritual growth often comes about through a season of pruning (John 15:2). We tend to equate Spiritual growth with mountain top experiences. But you got to the mountain through the pain of climbing. The path Jesus often wants us to walk in through the valley to the cross (Luke 9:51). In this world the saving story is not the glory story, but the story of the cross. Adam’s curse was that all growth would come through hardship (Genesis 3:19). The world does not recognize God on the cross, but to we who believe this is the power and wisdom of God (1 Corinthian 1:24).

Which I suppose leads to the final reason which is part of our Epistle lesson this week. “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” That reason is encouragement. We are united in our belief. We have been united in our baptisms. We are united around the body and blood of Christ. This is our confession. These are the promises of Christ. That wherever two or three are so gathered, there Christ will be. He promised to be present in Word and Sacrament. You might meet him elsewhere. We can’t bind God. But He has bound Himself there. And He is faithful to his promises. Do not neglect the gathering. Don’t let it become a habit. We so easily fall into bad habits. But take encouragement, for the Day is certainly drawing near. And taking encouragement, a renewing of faith in the one who is faithful, is the necessary response.

Saints of the World Series

So the World Series is over. I didn’t think anything could make me feel sorry for the Yankees, but that game did. I used to root for Gerritt Cole when he was a Pirate. It is inexcusable not getting over to first base for the last out. The last out before the Dodgers would score five in the inning to tie it. Five unearned runs, but also in a strange way completely earned, as the pitcher didn’t cover the bag. And Rizzo. As a Cubs fan, I will always love Rizzo. But seeing him field the ball and just hold it, as there was no one there to toss it too, painful. Then Judge dropping an easy line drive. He hasn’t dropped that one since he was 12 years old. And he was building such a redemption arc at the plate in the game. And it all dribbled out of the glove. Unlike most Yankees who are great heels (Wrestling terminology), Judge, Cole and Rizzo are babyfaces.

And the series was strangely anti-climactic. It was Yankees-Dodgers. That is the stuff of Americana. Those series are legendary. And it started off with that feel. Freddie Freeman with a walk-off grand slam in the 10^th inning. Are you kidding me? And Yamamoto pitched a gem. But then you had a bullpen game…in the World Series? What would Koufax, Gibson or even Maddux think. I’m sure they could stutter something about how the game has changed. But in their hearts aren’t they a bit judgmental? Are you kidding me, give me the ball, it’s the World Series. And then it ends 4-1. One game so it isn’t a sweep, but no grand comeback. No last flight to LA. No winning at home. Just a crisp NY evening and a celebration in front of cameras.

One of the famous lines from the movie Moneyball is “how can you not be romantic about baseball?” Cue James Earl Jones and the army of steamrollers, but the one thing that has remained constant is baseball. But Yankees-Dodgers didn’t live up to the Romance. And if Yankees-Dodgers can’t live up to it, what about any of us toiling away in the minors?

The Feast of All Saints is that day for all of us. It is that day for those of us still in the church militant. Still toiling in the minors? We feebly struggle. Even the mighty Judges. But maybe it is even more to remind us that we are part of a great Romance. The story of Christ and the church. And whether one is a saint that has their own day on the calendar, one known only to a handful, or one forgotten by the world; they are all remembered and held dear by God.

Whether represented by the mystical 144,000 (12x12x1000 or the full number of the saints of all times and places) or by the more realistic number “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages (Revelation 7:9).” All of us will in glory shine.

Today we might come out of the great tribulation. Much of that tribulation caused like those 5 runs by ourselves, because of sin not covering the bag. But our salvation, the salvation of all saints, is not by our works. “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne and the lamb (Revelation 7:10),” God looked upon us and would not let the sinner die, but he had compassion. And the drops, and the missed covers and disappointments that pile up? “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes (Revelation 7:17).” We are part of a great Romance. So let the distant song steal on your ear.