Lessor and Greater

The New Testament Book of Hebrews has an interesting argument. Coming off of St. Michael and All Angels it is fitting. In the intertestamental period, the time between the Old Testament and the appearance of Jesus, Jewish religion became infatuated with angels. If you wanted to see an example you could read an apocryphal work by the name of 1^st Enoch. (Just google it and you’ll find multiple copies on the internet. Our age is not so different. Both ages that felt something in the air that wasn’t quite there yet.) The Jews had named a bunch of angels. They had created entire celestial hierarchies. They had job descriptions for all of those hierarchies. The closest analogy for the role these angels played in that time frame might be the role of Saints in the medieval church. You sought them out and asked for their assistance. The first argument of the book of Hebrews is the many ways that Jesus, the Son of God, is higher or better than the angels. These angels you so admire and fixate upon? Turn your eyes and prayers and worship to the greater one – Jesus. That kind of argument – from the lessor to the greater – will continue throughout the entire book. The author of Hebrews, who we don’t really know, starts off with angels, but proceeds with Moses, the Priesthood, the offerings and many of the staples of Jewish religious life. All of these have been fulfilled in the person and work of Jesus.

The church and the world around is always drifting off into these esoteric and gnostic forms. Now I’d bet that you might not understand those terms – esoteric and gnostic – but if I described them the lightbulb would go on immediately. Esoteric means slightly hidden. Agent Mulder in the X-files had his poster “the truth is out there.” That is an esoteric belief. There is truth. You must find or uncover the way to have it. And that search usually leads to all kinds of practices we might call witchcraft or similar: tarot cards, amulets, psychics, horoscopes. These are all esoteric ways to knowledge. The gnostic usually pairs with the esoteric. The gnostic is someone who believes in a spiritual reality, but it requires knowledge to access it. The most modern Gnostics might be those who are using ayahuasca, ketamine or other psychedelics, like QB Aaron Rodgers or most of Silicon Valley. They take part in shamanic rituals. They hire spirit guides. All in the pursuit of some greater knowledge. Esoteric or hidden practices lead to gnosis or knowledge. And the church and the world are both always drifting off into things like this because who doesn’t want to know. And God can always seem so frustrating in not giving us knowledge. He doesn’t answer the why too often. The intertestamental Jew would summon the angels. The modern Christian goes on a vision quest retreat.

The author of Hebrews tells us, “we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it (Hebrews 2:1).” We might desire that esoteric knowledge, but the true stuff has already been given to us. God in his wisdom has chosen to reveal himself in His son Jesus. And Jesus has been proclaimed by the apostles, the church and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Proclaimed freely and openly. Why would we “neglect so great a salvation? (Hebrews 2:3)” Why would we turn away from this deep and true knowledge which God “bore witness by signs and wonders and miracles? (Hebrews 2:4)” Why would we neglect Christ proclaimed to play with trinkets? Why would we accept a lessor knowledge, when the greater has been given to us?

While right now we might feel lessor. And that lack makes us chase everything that promises knowledge now. Jesus himself was “for a little while made lower than the angels (Hebrews 2:9)” but through his suffering and death was crowned with glory. So also us. Our salvation is made perfect in Christ and the sharing of his sufferings (Philippians 3:10). “This is why he is not ashamed to call us brothers (Hebrews 2:11).” Now we might feel lessor because we walk by faith, not by knowledge. But salvation only comes by faith through the one who is not ashamed to call us brother.

Feasts and Festivals

One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. – Romans. 14:5

Of the Worship of Saints they teach that the memory of saints may be set before us, that we may follow their faith and good works, according to our calling – Augsburg Confession Article 21

Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ. – Colossians. 2:16-17

Christians have been arguing about calendars since Apostolic times. And those arguments never really stopped. Hence the two opening quotes. And when you argue about calendars you are arguing about piety, practice and remembrance. You are arguing about what people think is important. Many such arguments can simply be settled “you respect yours, I respect mine.” You can hear that argument in the Apostle Paul. But calendar arguments, because it is hard to keep your own calendar, often become group defining. “We are going to remember this date.”

The very first of those definitional dates would be over the Sabbath. The Apostles, being Jews, kept the Sabbath, on Saturday. They then met together on “the Lord’s Day” or Sunday, the day of resurrection. For example Paul is searching for the local Jewish gathering “on the Sabbath day” (Acts 16:13), but at the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15 there is no mention of telling the gentiles to keep the Sabbath. And by the time of John’s visions in Revelation, they come to him as “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day (Revelation 1:10).” You can hear those arguments in that third quote at the start. Paul telling his gentile audiences that Sabbaths are a shadow of the substance of Christ. Meeting on Sunday is good and proper.

I’m talking about Calendars for two reasons. The first is that this Sunday gets a special name – St. Michael and All Angels. The church calendar that we follow has a general structure – the large seasons of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter and Pentecost. For half the year we follow the life of Christ, and for the other half we emphasize the life in the Spirit. We gather on the “the Lord’s Day”. We are the people of the resurrection. We remember that substance of Christ weekly. Within that general calendar there the “feasts and festivals.” The actual dates never change. All Saints is always November 1^st. But some of them, like All Saints, we move their observance to the nearest Sunday. We have deemed their witness and memory too important to skip, yet we do not feel compelled to gather on the odd Tuesday Nov 1^st. Most of those festivals we observe occasionally, which means when their day falls on a Sunday naturally, so due to leap years every 6-14 years. St. Michael and all Angels is one of those days. It is always September 29^th. When September 29^th is a Sunday, we remember the angels. There are also some feasts that honestly, we just don’t remember. When I served St. Mark’s in West Henrietta, I tried to observe April 25^th, the feast day of St. Mark. At Mt. Zion there is no such special connection.

And that gets into the second reason I’m talking about calendars. I tend to think that our everyday lives and most of what takes place in them is designed to flatten everything. The World does this in two ways. If anyone saw the original Pixar Incredibles movie, it has one of the most subversive lines I can remember. “And when everyone is super, no one is.” There is something about our age that reacts against “the memory of the saints being set before us.” Our world wants equality or even equity. The acknowledgement that someone – a saint – lived it better is subversive. So it levels all days, and days it can’t level it elevates everything to obscure the remembrance of the saint. But I just don’t think that is either reality or the needs of true humanity.

We need things to strive for. Every Olympic athlete ponders how can I break the world record. The memory of the saints is so that we may follow their faith and good works. We need feast days like we need fast days, and ordinary time (another name for the season of Pentecost). Because life is not flat. We need days to remember St. Michael and the angels, because we need to ponder that creation includes “things visible and invisible”. And that those invisible things do impact our existence. When the world wants to flatten everything, the Christian needs to hear the distant triumph song. There are things the world wants us to forget that we need to remember.

Wisdom of James

Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. – James 3:13

We’ve been reading through the book of James – our Epistle readings in September – in Sunday morning Bible Study. And the book of James is a unique book within the New Testament, although I would argue not within the entire bible. The word I’m going to be talking about is genre. What is a genre? In film you would talk about Westerns or Action or Horror. In novels: mystery, fantasy, sci-fi, literary. A genre is a recognizable grouping that usually has the same characters, plot or conventions. Westerns have dry towns, citizens, guns, horses, outlaws, savages and sheriffs. The story is always the sheriff or the man who stands between the citizens and the outlaws or savages. The man who is on the border of each belonging to neither. And the tools are the tools of violence and transportation. Which is why the Western Genre can capture things like Space Westerns. The books of the bible largely fall into recognizable genres. The gospels are ancient biographies. Paul’s works are philosophical essays attached to letters dealing with specific instances of living the philosophy often called casuistry or case history. Acts is a work of ancient history, a narrative of people, places, acts and speeches. Revelation is an apocalypse, a work of unveiling the deep meaning of reality. James may look like one of Paul’s letters, but it’s arguments are not long enough to be essays, nor are its cases real events in a real life (like the Corinthians getting drunk at the Lord’s Supper), but they are generic examples (where do fights come from). James is unique in the New Testament, but if you read it alongside the Old Testament book of Proverbs, I think you find its genre. James is a wisdom book.

And what is the genre of wisdom book? I come up with four key things. 1) Wisdom books are typically written by the mature for the naïve. You could say by the old for the young, but that isn’t universal. Timothy at 20, as the son of Eunice and grandson of Lois, was a third generation Christian from the cradle. Paul was constantly reminding the young Timothy that he was the one mature in the faith compared to many of his older flock. 2) Wisdom books are written for those who believe. This is why Luther didn’t much like James. Wisdom books assume the gospel. They are speaking to the person living a life of sanctification. 3) Wisdom books are descriptive and not prescriptive. Prescriptive would be the 10 Commandments. You must do this. You must not do that. Descriptive describes how things usually work. The mature person has enough store of experience to say “this is how the world usually works.” Does it always work that way? No. Your particular experience may be outside the realm of this wisdom. But, it is always good to ask, “am I really the exception?” They are words a man might live by if he is not so foolish as to think himself special. 4) Wisdom books are meant to be pondered. As no experience is ever really repeated, how does this wisdom apply to me and my situation?

And this is the great weakness of wisdom and also its strength. It is meek. It invites instead of commands. It desires not your compliance, but for you to make it your own. Mom wants the 3 year old’s compliance about not sticking things in the power outlet, but 3 years olds typically need at least one zap to make that wisdom their own. Lady Wisdom desires that you might learn from her by means of words, but more often those words are things remembered after the fact. After we get zapped we might turn to Lady Wisdom for the other nuggets she has.

One nugget buried in the middle of our epistle today (James 3:13-4:10) is about quarrels. James rightly points out quarrels come from our uncontrolled and unmet desires. It is almost Buddhist in its recognition. You suffer because you want. But the wisdom of James is not to kill the want. The wisdom of James is to ask, and to ask rightly. “You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly to spend it on your passions. (James 4:2-3)” Oh Lord, won’t you buy me, a Mercedes-Benz? Probably not. But why do you want a Benz? What passion is unfulfilled? How better would that passion be turned? Those are the mature questions of wisdom.

Talking About Money

Talking about money in church is always an interesting conversation, interesting used in the ancient Chinese curse sense. It is not that Jesus doesn’t have some pointed and meaningful things to say about money. Things like “and I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings. (Lk. 16:9 ESV)” Neither is it that our use of money isn’t an expression of Spiritual values. For it explicitly is. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matt. 6:21 ESV)” The interesting part is that talking about money in church feels like making public what we’d rather be private. It is shining the light of the gospel into areas that we’d rather keep in darkness (John 2:19, 12:46). The apostle Paul’s final direction in regards to money is that each one must decide in his heart how much to give. And not to give reluctantly or in response to pressure, but cheerfully (2 Cor 9:7). But doing so means that our giving has to be intentional. You don’t decide in your heart on a moment’s notice. And it is that prayerful consideration that shines the light on our own hearts. It is that prayerful consideration that we are attempting to form this year.

Pastor’s Corner in the coming weeks is not going to be given over completely to monetary things, but over the next couple of months there will be at least a couple of stewardship related meditations. From what I’ve been told, the pastoral office at Mt. Zion has never talked about stewardship, nor has there ever been some of the practices (pledges) that we intend to introduce this year. What the rest of this Pastor’s Corner is going to run through is some information, a calendar on important dates, and a start on the spiritual purpose.

Some information. The numbers I am using all come from our treasurer and have been accepted by the church council. Over the years 2021, 2022 and 2023 the church income (mostly from offerings) has been between $221K – $246K. The expenses for those years have been between $246k – $279k. Mt. Zion has run a consistent $24k deficit. Mt. Zion was able to do this because of a generous bequest. And my understanding is that this pattern has been typical in prior years as well, with refinancing of the mortgage occasionally being used. The trouble is the current year. Our deficit for 2024 is already at $34K. And this deficit is not caused by running over budget. Expense wise we approved a budget of $268k. Over the prior 12 months (Sept 23 – Sept 24, not the budget timeframe but a full year) we have only spent $248k. The trouble is that our offerings over those same 12 months have only been $204K. There are some concrete reasons for that. There are also some understandable background reasons. But the light that is shining I believe is two-fold. We as a congregation can’t operate with that type of deficit indefinitely. The timing on such a deficit would be a couple of years maximum. And what that brings up is a question. Do we want to be a congregation? Or maybe more specifically, do we want to be a congregation that looks roughly like what Mt. Zion has historically?

With that question, I’m going to turn to the calendar. The council has reviewed a proposed budget and on Oct 10^th will meet to give its final collective approval to present it to the congregation. The Congregational budget meeting will be on Nov 17^th. We will publish some form of that budget well prior for your consideration. But as the council agrees, there are no gold bricks hiding the budget. Nobody is vacationing in Tahiti. It represents the costs for the utilities, insurance, upkeep, the mortgage, and your Pastor. Over that same timeframe that we as a congregation are setting aside to think about the proposed budget, we are going to pass out pledge cards on Oct 20^th and collect them starting Nov 10^th for three weeks.

Finally, a bit about spiritual purpose. The big question stated above is do we want to be a congregation that looks roughly like we do? A vote for such a budget should also come with a pledge to support that budget. But following the apostle’s advice, I do not want your pledge given in response to pressure. If you read the fullness of 2 Corinthians 9, the context of Paul’s advice, he is putting forward the collection for the Jerusalem church. The opportunity to support the work of the gospel done by Mt. Zion is what is being presented. Maybe your heart’s answer is that Mt. Zion should look substantially different. Maybe the answer in your heart is your current support is what you can give. Maybe you can cheerfully support at a higher level. We the council hope that enough of you might answer yes.

I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but Mt. Zion monetarily has been something of a minor. It has been graced with a building and substantial contributions from those largely taught the way elsewhere and from those maybe little known to the current congregation. I don’t think I am trespassing on anything recognizing the generosity of Gene Ockrassa, but there are others. But all minors must eventually become adults. And that is the question of this budget and pledge call. Are we collectively willing to come into our inheritance as a congregation of Christ? Are we willing to accept both the gifts of his grace and the responsibilities? And are we able to take them on cheerfully? The Kingdom of God will certainly come without our help, but in this we are being offered it amongst us in a bountiful way (2 Cor 9:6).

A Word Near; A Far Word

The mystics, maybe more approachable the spiritual writers of every age from St. John of the Cross to Anne Dillard, seem to have two modes of talking. Call them when God draws near and when God is far. The common expressions of these would be the euphoria of the mountaintop experience when God is so near the planets sing. The dark night of the soul is when God is far. The music of the spheres is barely a memory. The cave and the tomb seem the only end. Who shall give you praise if I am in sheol the Psalmist might ask.

But our gospel reading for today gives us a different experience of near and far. In these it is not that God himself seems to move. Jesus is equally present in the region of Tyre and Sidon, a far gentile territory, and in the Decapolis of the Galilee, his hometown region among the Jews. God is the God of all the earth and we all – even the atheist – has an inkling of this. “If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! (Ps. 139:8 ESV)” Simply ponder our existence on this ball of dirt in the midst of the vast universe. The entire universe seems to have been tuned to keep us alive here. Yet God sustains all of it by his majesty.

The question is not God’s presence or absence, because “you are there.” The question is why is God there? Are you here for my good, or are you here like Zeus for Leda? Are you here as a mere watcher, or as a trickster, or as the lover of mankind?

The first picture in our Gospel text (Mark 7:24-37) is of the unnamed Syrophoenician woman who has a little daughter possessed by the evil of the universe. Matthew is more explicit than Mark. Syrophoenician is a then current territory marker that would say not Jewish to a Roman hearer. Matthew calls her a Canaanite, the ancient enemy of Israel who God once told Israel to kill all of them. Is that still God’s stand? Kill all of them? While being near, is this God still far away? The woman intends to find out. She risks bridging the distance. She begs Jesus cast the demon out. And Jesus’ response seemingly reinforces that distance. That this God is far away from this person, even though he is right there. “It’s not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” But the woman’s response is the only one that makes sense, at least if we have any hope. If the God who is present everywhere on who our being rests is against us, we have no hope. But the earth gives all their daily bread. If this God was against us, surely the rain would not fall on the Canaanite. Or the rain that does fall must be enough. “Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” And those crumbs of this god – however far away he might be – are enough to cast out the evil. And this is what Jesus does. The Word of God is a gracious word for those who are far. “For this statement you may go your way; the demon has left your daughter. And she went home and found the child well.”

The second picture is of a man who is deaf and whose tongue doesn’t work. This is a man of the Jews. One of the children. And as we all know children expect things and they aren’t going to say thanks. And we all know that sometimes as parents our patience with that runs out. For a moment instead of being the mother of the runaway bunny who loves him to the moon and back, we might be content for the entitled brat to go. If we are near and have always been near is this how God feels sometimes?

Jesus takes the man aside from the crowd privately. God does not treat us by groups. This child of God is his child and the only one that matters at this moment. And he heals him. Unlike the far word to those who are far, this is a near word for those who are near. He puts his fingers into his ears to open them. Jesus puts his spit into the man’s mouth to loose it. And he says to ears that hear something for the first time, “Be opened.” Even though near we might have been closed to this God. But the Word draws nearer into our very selves. The word of God is a gracious Word for those who are near.

Whether you feel yourself far or near from the God who supports your entire being, the Word Jesus speaks to you is his grace. The challenge is more how we receive this word. And how we tell others.

An Arizona Visit

I was sitting in my office fresh from vacation. The translation for the week was done. I was trying to scrape the rust off the brain. Half-heartedly skimming somebody’s commentary on the gospel of the week. When I felt a breeze. But it wasn’t the AC kicking on and refilling the tubes. Instead it was an old friend.

“Dr. Luther, I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. I got the feeling the last time we talked it might be the last time. And that was quite a while ago. About 7 years”

“Seven years? You’ve got to remember, time for me isn’t quite linear anymore. Worms feels like yesterday. So that little conversation of ours was just this morning. But I did notice that you seem to have moved. And not a small one. You know, other than my trip to Rome, which was only about 850 miles, I don’t think I ever traveled more than 75 miles away from my hometown. And you are sitting on the other end of a continent! And it is hot. Are you sure you didn’t move closer to hell?”

“Yeah. That might have been an undercurrent in that conversation earlier this morning. Remember how von Staupitz sent you on that Roman trip. Said, ‘you need to see the city.’ Sometimes in our common work of the gospel you need to be somewhere else. At least that is what we tell ourselves.”

“But it seems to have worked. The black dog was at your door last time, and I hear no barking now. Although these little chats are never without purpose. I don’t get released from Leo X and Charles V for chit-chat.”

“You are going to have to tell me about those chats.”

“You’ll get your own one day. Mark 7. That’s what you are pondering.”

“Yes. It is just so unnatural. It is all law, but the law is usually natural. We call it cancel culture – driving out the unclean – but it is really larger than that. Parents spend inordinate amounts of time and money trying to control their kids peer groups. Our own synod excommunicated a 20 year old recently, basically for hanging out with the the wrong sorts. All of that seems natural, like practical wisdom. Hygiene. Yet Christ says, ‘there is nothing outside a person that by going into him can defile him.’ And the received understanding immediately jumps to Jesus eating with ‘tax collectors and sinners.’ But this passage has been used to justify all kinds of terrible stuff. Material that is clearly not good for anything, but the second you say so, somebody stands up and calls you a Pharisee or a legalist.”

“I did say the proper separation of law and gospel was the hardest skill in all of Christendom. And the one most necessary.”

“Yes. And I don’t think we’ve done that right here in a long time.”

“Keep talking.”

“The context that Jesus is talking about is piety practices. Hand and cup washings, pledges to God, for lack of a better word ‘religious acts.’ Things that might have started out as helpful to faith, but have become the entire purpose replacing faith. Practicing magic. Virtue Signaling. In your day, indulgences, pilgrimages and relics.”

“Yes, those were big things in my day. But it isn’t like every age doesn’t have their own.”

“But ours are so strange. In the Epistle Paul talks about putting on the armor. Know you are in a fight. Yet the religious act of our day seems to be ‘strip it all off and walk naked, otherwise you don’t have faith.’ Any law is a bad law and contrary to the gospel.”

“You might have something there Brown. Continue.”

“The core seems to be ‘whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile him, since it enters not his heart but his stomach.’ It is about the heart. There are things from the outside that can enter the heart and displace true faith. There are also all kinds of things that exit the heart. ‘Out of the heart of man come evil thoughts, etc.’ The breaking of the entire 10 commandments. The heart itself is initially unclean. But the Christian has had a new heart created in them by baptism and the Spirit.”

“Now you are dividing the law and the gospel. Can you bring it home?”

“The breastplate of righteousness. The breastplate is what covers the heart. Eating with ‘sinners and tax collectors’ will not make you unclean. As long as it isn’t your heart that is desiring to join in ‘all these evil things.’ If your heart is acting out of faith it is protected by that righteousness and would not join in those works. Not all the demons could make you. You can stand in the evil day.”

“Ok, but haven’t you just made another religious work, Brown?”

“I don’t think so, because it is all borrowed armor. It is not our breastplate, but that given to us by Christ. It is not our heart, but the one created anew by the Spirit. We’ve been given these gifts not to bury them, but to use them. Not to discard them, but to wear them for the battle that rages.”

The great man walked out muttering something about it being too hot and Leo called. And then the AC kicked on flapping the pipes and jolting me from my seat.

Sacramental Knowledge

It may not be about the sacrament, but it is sacramental. That was the sparkly line of a chapel sermon that was brought back to my mind recently. John chapter 6 is called the bread of life discourse. We started reading it last week and will complete it next week. Which causes a problem in hymn selection. After you burn all the decent “bread of life” type hymns in the first week, and go with the secondary and standard praise ones the second week. What do you do the third? I guess take vacation. Half kidding, although the connection between the hymns and the texts certainly becomes looser than I like.

Some of the meat behind that sparkly line – not about the sacrament, but is sacramental – is that Luther himself was strident that John 6 had nothing to do with Holy Communion. It was not about the sacrament. Of course with Luther so much was about polemics. He was always in a fight with somebody. In this case the fight was over the Word. John 6 is one of those places where a spiritual or allegorical reading is very natural. When Jesus says “the bread of life that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh (John 6:51)” and commands you to eat it, immediately jumping to the Lord’s Supper is natural. Most of us can’t imagine a way to take that without jumping to the Lord’s Supper. Luther insisted that gave too much away and missed the reality of what John was writing. And any spiritual or allegorical jump could not just be made up, but it had to be grounded in the reality of the Word.

In this case the reality that Jesus is confronting is Jewish unbelief in who Jesus is. They are happy to be the recipients of Jesus’ miracles. They would like the bread he multiplied. They ask about what signs he will perform. But they do not believe what the signs testify about. If you look up the definition of sacramental you will have to go to an old dictionary for help. The current online ones are much like our simple reading of John 6, sacramental means “pertaining to the sacraments” and nothing more. You’d have to find one that still has multiple definitions or uses where you would find a definition something like “an outward visible sign of an inward grace.” The sacraments themselves – baptism and the Lord’s supper – are specific instances where the grace of God is promised attached to visible elements. We Lutherans define the sacraments themselves with three points: 1) Instituted by Jesus, 2) Visible elements, 3) For forgiveness. Baptismal water is not simply water only, but the water connected to the word. But before you talk about the sacraments which are means of Grace, you must talk about faith in Christ alone. The bread and the signs and the wonders that Jesus performed were the outward visible signs pointing at His grace. The sacraments themselves rest upon faith in the one who instituted them.

And that is what Luther insisted John 6 was about. Jesus himself is the sacrament of God. “I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day (John 6:39).” The Grace of the Father has appeared in the incarnation of Jesus Christ. And this grace of the Father is for you. “But the Jews grumbled about him, because he said ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven. (John 6:41).’”

And this is the crisis of all sacramental things. When you see them, you know. You no longer have an excuse. Christ has been placed before all mankind. “They will all be taught by God (John 6:45).” We have all been taught by God. This Christ, this cross, this resurrection, these Words are for you. “Truly, Truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life (John 6:47-48).” We have seen. We know. We do not have an excuse. Walking away from the bread of life, is walking away from life. All sacramentals are two edged swords. Used properly in faith they cut the knot of our problem with sin. But used improperly, in disbelief or blasphemy, they are deadly to ourselves.

Ordinary Days

With the last two corners, you’ve probably had your fill of worship service explainers. But give me one more. First, we’ve asserted with some examples both sacred and secular that everybody has a liturgy. That word liturgy is simply how we incarnate our beliefs. If you want to understand America observe the liturgy of pre-game football from tailgate to kickoff. Likewise, if you want to understand who is being worshipped, observe the form of the worship. This is an observation so old it has a Latin phrase – Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi – the law of Worship is the law of belief. Second, we’ve seen that the basic form of Christian worship was most likely inherited from the Jewish Synagogue of Jesus’ day adding to that Service of the Word the Lord’s Supper as Jesus commanded his disciples to do. And third, we looked at two of the changing parts of our worship service, the Introit or Entry Psalm and the Three Scripture readings.

The changeable parts of our liturgy have a specific name; they are the propers of the day. In that big book that is always on the Altar – known imaginatively as The Altar Book – you will find almost all of the propers for every service of the year. The Altar Book itself doesn’t have all the readings printed out. It assumes you have a bible or a lectionary book. Or like we do, print it out every week. But one could host our worship directly from the Altar Book. And for most of time, that is what was done. The propers formal are the Introit, the Readings and also the Prayer of the Day, a verse, a gradual and a hymn of the day. In a true “high church” place all of this would be chanted. It is one of the quirks of getting old that growing up, since we rarely chanted anything, I was considered “low church.” But, as most of American Christianity changed its liturgies to what would have been backwoods Pentecostal worship, my low church came to seem high. And please ponder for a second that old Latin phrase. If your liturgy changes, your beliefs probably did also, regardless of what you say. The incarnation is more meaningful than the spare word. That is not questioning the salvation or presence of Christ, simply recognizing that the house has many rooms. And rooms have different decoration.

Our liturgy also has unchangeable parts. These are known as the ordinaries. Specifically: the Kyrie, The Gloria, The Creed, The Sanctus, and the Agnus Dei. You can’t study the history of Western Music without knowing those parts. Every “Mass” ever written has settings of those parts. And you will find examples of all of them quite early in church history. The creed being formalized in the 300’s but predating that. All of them being present by the 700’s. But in those five ordinaries you find the purpose of the service. The Kyrie is our basic entreaty – Lord have mercy. And it is followed by the Gloria – a trinitarian song of praise. This is why we have gathered – for prayer and praise. To seek our forgiveness and to praise the God who has forgiven us. The creed is next in the order and it is the basic statement of the faith. Right in the center of the liturgy, this is the faith which is believed and which we are incarnating in the liturgy. The Sanctus – a setting of the cry of the angels around the altar in heaven – Holy, Holy, Holy – is the recognition that here on our altar in the Lord’s Supper we are part of that heavenly feast. Heaven and Earth come together in the bread and wine. The final ordinary – The Agnus Dei – is the recognition that what we are about to receive is the very body and blood of Christ. And it is a return to the prayer of the Kyrie. As we are bold to approach the altar, may what we receive there be for our good. “Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.” The Kingdom of God certain comes without our prayer, but we pray that it would come to us also, as Luther would explain the 2^nd petition.

That liturgy is remarkably robust. You can strip it down for a private visit, you can blow it out for a great feast. It is made for when two or three are gathered, and for times you might have 5000 men besides the women and children. It might take a bit to learn. And since we change settings occasionally we might ask a little more. But it is the incarnation of that creedal faith at its core. Here is where Father, Son and Spirit meet us, and where they are worshipped and glorified.

Why Three Readings?

One of the questions about a liturgical service that often comes up is why are there three readings: Old Testament, Epistle and Gospel? The answer is both very old and relatively new. The old portion of the answer goes all the way back to the Synagogue. The Jewish Synagogue service had two readings: one from the Torah – the first 5 books of the bible – and one from the prophets. The reading from the prophets was typically shorter and keyed to the Torah reading. You get a glimpse of that with Jesus in the New Testament in Luke 4:16ff. When Jesus begins his ministry in Nazareth it is on the Sabbath and he is given the reading from the prophets to read. The pattern of Christian worship grows out of that Synagogue worship.

There are two famous “dog that didn’t bark” arguments about early Christian worship. Paul in 1 Corinthians 11 addresses Christian Worship, but his words are primarily about how to celebrate the Lord’s Supper with a prolog about men, women and hair coverings. The dog that didn’t bark is about what we call “the service of the Word.” There were no problems with the basic service because the Christians just followed Jewish practice. The problems were where Christian practice diverged from Jewish. It diverged in welcoming both men and women into the same space for worship. And hence some guidelines for good practice. And the real new part was the Lord’s Supper. The other dog that didn’t bark is infant baptism. In the New Testament entire families were baptized (Acts 16:15). The universal practice of the church until the Reformation was infant baptism. Not all were baptized as infants. There were strange delays of baptism – like with the Emperor Constantine – treating it as a one time get out of hell free sacrament. But nobody ever talks about baptism, other than to do it, because it was just accepted practice. Even in the scriptures the squeaky wheel gets the oil sometimes.

Somewhere between the 2^nd and the 4^th centuries the Torah and Prophets readings were replaced with an Epistle and a Gospel reading. The Gospels being the Torah wellspring and the Epistles commenting on the Gospel like the prophets. That two readings format continued until the middle of the 20^th century. The relatively new portion of the reading cycle being the addition of an Old Testament reading and the freeing of the Epistle from the Gospel. The Epistles for most of the year are now read continuously in themselves. The Old Testament readings being keyed to the Gospel.

All of that is a nice short history that answers the “why?” with “It’s tradition!” We can all join Teyve in a dance. But if you’ve ever attended a Reformed service or a non-denom type they have clearly separated themselves from that tradition, why not Lutherans? Isn’t reading three separate readings each week confusing?

As far as confusing, maybe. But the Old Testament and the Gospel readings are usually meant to be typological fulfillment. The Gospel Lesson today (Mark 6:45-56) is Jesus walking on the waters. Here is the one who commands the winds and the waves. And this one gets into the boat with the terrified disciples. This is a fulfillment of the promise of God after the flood to Noah which is the Old Testament reading (Genesis 9:8-17). “The waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.” The fulfillment of that covenant is present. This is also one of the reasons I like to take the continuous reading of the Epistle as the bible study topic. Confusing gets addressed through preaching and teaching.

What about tradition? This gets at something core in the Lutheran Reformation. The Augsburg Confession Article 14 is on “The Mass”. And it starts off with the charge: “Our churches are falsely accused of abolishing the mass.” And compared to the Reformed version of the Reformation that would often change things much more radically, the Lutheran Reformation maintained a rule that if something could be kept, it should be. And again, most of that article talks about the practice of the Lord’s Supper. How the mass had been turned into a money making operation. Getting the Lord’s Supper wrong seems to be a church tradition. But that article ends with an interesting quote. “The mass among us follows the example of the church, taken from Scripture and the Fathers…this is especially so because we keep the public ceremonies, which are for the most part similar to those previously in use…the Scriptures are read, and the preachers expound them.”

Why three readings? Yes, tradition, but also because this is the Word of God expounded for us in the way that we received it.

Everybody

There are two “everybody” statements that I firmly believe in, but it has been my experience most people reject. They might even get mad when I say them. First, everybody worships. Second, everybody has a liturgy of worship.

The first one: everybody worships is easier to prove. Luther’s explanation of the first commandment is that “we should fear, love and trust in God above all things.” He expands on that in the large catechism explaining that whatever we fear, love or trust in above anything else is our God. The number of idols is almost endless, but Luther in his jokey way, I think correctly recognizes that most people have their own stomach as their God. Whatever the gut wants is where they are lead to worship. Although there are several other common gods: money, power, fame are the usually the negatives, but you could also add family, land or tradition as normal positive things that can become idols. And if you don’t believe me on those, listen to Jesus in Matthew 10:37 or Matthew 15:3. Most of his arguments with the Pharisees were over idolatry of good things. The righteousness of the Pharisees wasn’t slight, see Matthew 5:20. It was just nowhere close to the perfection required for salvation. The purpose of “everybody worships” is a reminder to be conscious of who or what you worship. Most people slip through life not knowing. Hence Luther’s being led around by their belly. But The One God has revealed himself in Jesus Christ. You can worship him.

The second “everybody” is something of the answer to: Well, how do I worship? And even more than people not realizing who their God is, the vast majority do not understand how they worship. And in not understanding they don’t realize the power of everyday liturgies. What is a liturgy? A liturgy is formalized order of worship that incarnates belief. Now that worship and belief doesn’t have to be of ultimate importance. There is a liturgy of going to a football game. You enter through the tailgate. Everyone rises and lines up. The colors are presented. Sometimes a prayer is said – like at my son’s Valley Lutheran Games, but always the National Anthem is sung. On High Holy Days, like a championship game, you will have an airplane flyover. On the highest of holy days you get a Stealth Bomber. The Kick-off lines up. Everyone chants “seven nation army” or whatever the kickoff song is. And then the liturgy is over when the ball flies. What does that liturgy worship? Basically everything America and American. And when you break liturgies, like by kneeling for the anthem, people get upset. There are liturgies big and small that fill our days. The purpose of “everybody has a liturgy of worship” is knowing what yours are. Because those liturgies tell you what you actually believe; what you believe deep enough to make real in time and space.

I want to occasionally highlight elements of our liturgy. Today I want to take a minute to look at the Introit. What the heck is an Introit? It is simply the Latin word for entry. Now we usually staple on in front of it a hymn and corporate confession. We’ll leave that for another day. But the original start of the worship of Father, Son and Spirit was the invocation of the God being worshipped. Christianity is clear. The idols usually try and hide that part. But you started with the invocation and some entry words about what we are going to be making real in time and space. Those words change week to week as the meditation of the church upon Christ focuses on different things He has done for us. Those words are typically taken from the psalms, the prayer book of the bible. So what we have in the Introit, which we at Mt. Zion recite responsively, is the theme of our worship for the day in the words that God has given us.

Today, the words of the Introit give us the theme of God providence (Psalm 147:7-11, Psalm 145:16). “He makes the grass grow on the hills.” But that material providence that falls on the just and the unjust alike points at God’s greater providence. “You open your hand, you satisfy the desire of every living thing.” And what is that desire? To rest secure in the love of your creator. “The LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.” You who join in this liturgy, in making real in time and space our beliefs, shall see that steadfast love of God for you. That love of God that forgives sins, provides us our daily bread, and most importantly promises us that we shall dwell securely in his land (Jeremiah 23:5-6).