“The Little (or BIG!) Peter in Each of Us: Complacency”

Lent 2 Midweek

“The Little (or BIG!) Peter in Each of Us: Complacency”

Matthew 26:36-46; 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

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

Fresh off Peter’s confident statements that he would never fall away from Jesus, even if all the others did; and, that he would never deny Jesus, even if it meant death, Peter now finds himself . . . asleep. He is not overcome when the shepherd is struck. He is not overcome with fear or threats. He is overcome with sleep. He is worn down. He is drained. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. His spirit is willing but his flesh is weak.

That’s how it is, isn’t it? With us, too. We get tired. We let our guard down. And before you know it, we have drifted off into sin.

Jesus and His eleven disciples had eaten the Passover and had gone to the Mount of Olives. Now the hour of evil, the hour of darkness, is almost here. Jesus knows it; the eleven do not. He singles out His special three - Peter, James, and John. The three who saw Him in the glory of His Transfiguration would now be with Him in the agony of His prayer. They should have known something was up, as Jesus began to be sorrowful and troubled. Something which, according to the Gospel accounts, they had not seen before. And Jesus voices it to them: My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me. He then goes a little farther and falls on His face in prayer.

How long did it take? 15 minutes? 30 minutes? before their eyes closed in sleep, so that when Jesus came back in one hour, He found them sleeping. And notice: Jesus addresses Peter. All three fell asleep, but Peter is singled out. For Peter had confidently and pridefully singled himself out: Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away. Peter is not as strong as he thinks. If the shepherd was going to be struck and that shepherd is now sorrowful and troubled, why wasn’t Peter on the alert and watching and ready? 

And so Jesus warns them. Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The danger is not just to Jesus. There is danger for them as well. But Peter is oblivious to the threats that might be out there. So off to sleep again he goes. Sleep well, Peter, while your Savior wrestles in prayer. Sleep well, Peter, while your Savior agonizes for you. Sleep well, Peter, for your Savior will not sleep again until He sleeps the sleep of death and is laid in the tomb.

Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. Those are words for us tonight as well, for whether you are aware of it or not, the tempter wants you. And while he may at times come at us with a full-frontal assault, more often than not, I think, he wears us down, tires us out, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, until we let our guard down. A day without prayer quickly becomes three. A week without God’s Word becomes two or more. Coveting replaces contentment. Grudges become firmer and forgiveness becomes harder. Disobedience grows into disrespect and bears the fruit of bitterness. Fear increases, and faith decreases. And how else? For you? You didn’t even see it coming. It just happens . . . like sleep in a garden. Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The tempter wants you, and he is patient and persistent.

But here is the good news for us tonight. As much as the tempter wants you, Jesus wants you even more. And so the agony of Gethsemane is just the prelude to the suffering of the cross. Jesus would drink the bitter cup of God’s wrath - every last drop of it - so there’s none left for you. He saw what was in that cup, the horror of sin and evil and the crushing weight that awaited Him. Your sin, your death, your hell, on Him, in Him. That is why He asked if there was any other way. But there wasn’t. Thy will be done, He prays. And with that prayer, the Father’s will is His will. He drinks it. He goes to the cross, so you never will.

Thy will be done we also pray, with Jesus. But now it is quite different. For God’s will is that we now drink a different cup - not a bitter cup, but a cup of blessing; not a cup filled with wrath but filled with forgiveness; not a cup of horror, but the blood of our loving Savior, poured out for you. That’s your Father’s will for you now. 

With that cup comes life - a new life. A life of forgiveness, not grudges. Of contentment, not coveting. Of joyful obedience and good works. Of faith and peace. And a life of prayer. Of knowing the danger that lurks around us everyday, and so praying: And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Deliver us from the evil one. Make the fruits of Your cross grow in us, that we not fall asleep, that we not be unaware, that we not grow complacent, but live in Christ and His life, and He in us.

Maybe the current direction of our culture will help wake us up. The wrestling’s of Christians being persecuted in our own country, the agony of Christians being beheaded in others, and the sorrow of the general movement away from the truth of God’s Word. Paul told the Thessalonian Christians to be ready, good words for us as well, and to encourage one another and build one another up, which sounds very much like Jesus’ watch with me. And it is. For whatever you do to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you have done it unto me (Matt 25:40). 

Let us watch and pray with our brothers and sisters and so - even today - watch with Christ. But even more important than watching with Christ is to watch Christ. To watch His love. To watch His struggle in the garden. To watch Him on the cross. To watch Him rise. To watch Him come to us and for us now in His Word and Sacrament. And one day to watch Him come again in glory, when all who sleep in death will rise, and live where no temptation or sin or evil will ever come again. 

To watch with Christ is what we should do. Lord, help us to do that! But to watch Christ is to see what He has done for me. And seeing, believe. And believing, have life. A new life that starts now and lasts forever. And that you have that life is the Father’s will for you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the … Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“The Little (or BIG!) Peter in Each of Us: Pride”

Lent 1 Midweek

“The Little (or BIG!) Peter in Each of Us: Pride”

Matthew 26:30-35; 1 Corinthians 10:1-12

It was Thursday night. Jesus had just eaten the Passover with His disciples in the upper room. Even more than that, He had just transformed it - giving them the new Passover meal of His Body and Blood. He had washed their feet. He had spoken of betrayal. It was a night unlike any other, would take a while to digest it all. 

After singing a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. A familiar journey to a familiar place. But on the way, more surprise. Jesus speaks of what is going to happen, and with an ominous warning: You will all fall away because of me this night. For it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ But Peter, not realizing yet the full significance and meaning of what Jesus said, confidently replies: No! It shall not be! Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away.

You must marvel at, maybe even admire, such confidence; such a “can do” attitude. The problem is, it is not a confidence born of faith. It is overconfidence. Spiritual pride. For what is Peter saying with his words? Not just that he will remain steadfast, but that Jesus’ “It is written” is wrong. Or Jesus’ interpretation of it is wrong. To Peter, it seems very possible that the rest of the disciples might fall away, but not him. You’re wrong, Jesus. Not me.

To which Jesus replies, Oh yes, you Peter. In fact, maybe it could even be said that his falling away would be worse than the others. For not only would he fall away with them, but truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times. 

No! You’re wrong again, Jesus, Peter insists. Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!

So, Peter is saying: God’s Word is wrong. Jesus is wrong. Peter alone is right. Yes, all the other disciples said the same thing, went along with him, suddenly found their courage, too. But it’s Peter who leads the way. Peter, whose spiritual pride is leading him down a wrong and dangerous path.

Could the same be said for you and me? 

First, a distinction needs to be made. Pride is not necessarily wrong. You can be proud of your children, you can be proud of your accomplishments and the hard work you put in to achieve them. You can have that kind of pride and still thank the Lord for His gifts and the abilities He has given you. 

But such pride in spiritual matters is different. Spiritual pride leads away from our Lord and His gifts and exalts me and my strength. And that’s what makes it dangerous and deadly. That’s why the Scriptures are filled with warnings against such pride. Such pride, which in full growth, can lead us to say, like Peter: God’s Word is wrong. Jesus is wrong. I am right. We see that, actually, in no small way in our world today.

But is it in us? You and me? It is, and here’s how you know it: because even as you were hearing those words, you were thinking, that will never happen to me! I would never say that. I would never do that. Others? Maybe. Sure. But not me. . . Yet isn’t that exactly what Peter said?

As Paul warned the Corinthians: These things took place as examples for us . . . they were written down for our instruction . . . let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.

But there’s good news for us in the reading tonight - it isn’t all bad news. For after the shepherd is struck - struck for all of our sins, including our misplaced, overconfident, spiritual pride - after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee, He says. After the shepherd is struck on the cross and the sheep are scattered, and all looks hopeless and lost, the Shepherd will rise from the dead and go and find His sheep again. He will gather them to Himself in forgiveness and love. He will go before them and care for them. Yes, they would leave Him, but He will never leave them. Not even death will be able to stop Him. Chief of [prideful] sinners though I be, Jesus shed His blood for me (LSB #611).

Peter would soon know that. God’s Word is right. Jesus is right. I am . . . a poor, miserable sinner. And he would weep bitterly. And in this Lenten season, we confess - we say the same thing - as Peter. When I survey the wondrous cross, on which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss And pour contempt on all my pride (LSB #425 v. 1). 

Because the only thing worth anything is not who I am or what I am able to do, but what Jesus has done for me. His atonement for my sin. His defeating of my death. His victory over my hell. His Baptism giving me new life. His Body and Blood feeding me. His life giving me life. So that we can say with Paul: far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ (Gal 6:14). 

That kind of boasting, that kind of pride, may be dangerous. Quite the contrary! It is, in fact, life-giving, life-preserving. For it is confidence in the one who not only rose from the dead to life again but has promised the same for us. It is to confess the one who has gone before us not just to Galilee, but to heaven, to prepare a place for us. It is to know that whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s (Romans 14:8).

For thus saith God’s Word. Thus, has Jesus promised. And God’s Word is right. Jesus is right. And I . . . I am His.

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

Ash Wednesday 2019 “Marked with Death; Marked for Life”

Ash Wednesday

“Marked with Death; Marked for Life”

Text: Genesis 3:19; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21;

2 Corinthians 5:21; Joel 2:12-19

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

I didn’t know what it meant, at first. I saw a big, beautiful tree marked with an ugly X. The tree, outwardly, looked healthy and strong. But inwardly it was not. To my untrained eyes, everything looked fine. But to the trained eye of the tree expert who had marked it, this tree was diseased and rotten. In fact, I was told, it was probably completely hollow on the inside, and near death. And if not cut down, it would soon fall down.

Today, that’s our story. We’ve been marked. Because while we may look good and healthy, even young and beautiful, on the outside, inwardly the truth is quite different. We are rotten with sin. We are dying. The words we heard today said that, too. Dust you are, and to dust you will return. But we could say it better. That makes it sound as if the returning is sometime off in the future. But the reality is that the returning is happening even now. Just like with that tree. The disease is doing its awful work now. Dust you are, and to dust you are returning. That’s more accurate. Each day that goes by, we dry up a little more. We are a little more dust. We are a little weaker, a little more rotten.

And that would be true even if we were not marked. Not everyone received ashes tonight, and we’ll all wash them off either tonight or tomorrow. But the rottenness of sin is the same and remains. And that is true no matter how good we try to make ourselves look on the outside; no matter how much we want others to think we’re not so diseased and rotten. Maybe if they can see how serious I am in spiritual matters. If they can see how much I give. If they can see my fervent prayers. Yet maybe it’s not only others we want to see and convince . . . maybe I am also trying to convince myself. And maybe, just maybe, God, too.

But such people Jesus calls hypocrites. It’s not wrong to do those things, just to do them to impress. That’s what makes one a hypocrite - a pretender, a deceiver. And while we may get the reward of others thinking well of us, that’s like me admiring the beauty of the diseased tree without knowing the reality that lies within. But the reality is still there. In us. And the expert, our Creator, knows it.

So instead of trying to practice our own righteousness before others - which really isn’t righteousness at all - better to receive a real righteousness, a real rightness, a real healing. Which is what we receive, St. Paul said, through Jesus. The one who knew no sin, but for our sake was made to be sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

You will receive that righteousness as you come forward here, tonight, again, and this time, instead of being marked as one diseased, you will receive the Body and Blood of the one who was cut down for your sin, and then raised from the dead. Raised for your righteousness. And you will receive Him because He marked you as His own when He baptized you and marked you with the sign of His cross. And it is that water that truly washes off the mark of our disease and heals us - not only in appearance, but from the inside out. That water gives the life of forgiveness to those who are returning to dust. A life then fed with His Body and Blood. Water, blood, and Spirit testifying to the One who has come with life, with life for all (LSB #597).

So we come here tonight to repent; to enter into this season of repentance; to acknowledge our sinful rottenness and our rotten sinfulness. And we’re marked. But more than that, we leave with much more than a mark - but with righteousness. A righteousness which isn’t ours, but is given to us. Because Jesus is given to us. The one who takes our sin and gives us Himself. The one who, as the prophet Joel said, is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. The one who, as we sang, comes to us with a love unknown. With love for the loveless, that we might lovely be (LSB #430).

So you’ve been marked: marked with death, but marked for life. And while in this world death has the last word, it will not always be so. For while this season of Lent will end with death on Good Friday, that death will itself be ended with life, with the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. And that’s how your death will end as well. With life. Jesus’ life. Given to you.

So tonight is a solemn night, but not a somber one. We repent, yes, but are happy to do so. Because here is the forgiveness we need, here is the life we need, here is the righteousness we need. For here is the Jesus we need. And you the sinners He wants.

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

Joyce A. Birk

June 14, 1935 - December 16, 2013

Joyce A. Birk  78, of Girard passed away Monday morning, December 16, 2013, at Memorial Medical Center in Springfield, IL.

Joyce was born June 14, 1935, in Waverly, IL, a daughter of John and Faye (Crouse) Muckelston. Joyce married Charles W. Birk in February of 1954 in Waverly, Il and he passed away November of 1979.

Joyce was preceded in death by her parents, husband, 2 brothers, and 3 sisters. Joyce graduated from Waverly High School, class of 1935. Joyce was a homemaker as well as a member of the Trinity Lutheran Church in Girard, IL.

Surviving are her daughter, Joy (Coy) Robinson of Carlinville, IL; sons, Ron Birk of Carlinville, IL and Bill (Lori) Birk of Girard, IL, sister, Betty Megginson of Waverly, IL, and sister, Bernice Stewart of Waverly, IL and several nieces and nephews.

Funeral Information

Visitation will be held Thursday, December 19, 2013 from 9:00 am - 11:00 am at Davis-Anderson Funeral Home in Carlinville, IL
with funeral services to follow at 11:00AM. Rev. Keith GeRue, Officiating.

Burial will be in the Lutheran Cemetery Carlinville, IL

Reformation Sermon 2012

Reformation
“The Real Reformation”

Text: Jeremiah 31:31-34; Romans 3:19-28; John 8:31-36

October 27-28, 2012

In the Name of the Father and of the X Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Today, we celebrate the Festival of the Reformation, which, when you think about it, is a festival that celebrates one man.

A man who was able to accomplish great things.

A man who didn’t care so much if he was politically correct or not.

A man who taught unlike the teachers who came before him.

A man who was single-minded and focused on his mission.

A man who was arrested for his teaching.

A man who was hated by many, and had even friends turn on him.

A man whose life still impacts you and me today.

And that man is Jesus Christ. 

Oh, I’m sorry! Did you think I was talking about Luther?

Don’t get me wrong! I thank God for Luther, and what God was able to accomplish through him. And he was certainly a central figure in the Reformation. But it’s not about him.

What Luther did (as one preacher put it) was “sweep the cobwebs off the crucifix,” and once again proclaim Christ and Him crucified. He restored the Gospel to its rightful place in the Church’s proclamation.

Because sometimes, as hard as it is to believe (!), the Church gets off track. And we need to get called back to why we’re here, and what we’re to be about. Christ and Him crucified.

 And so the Reformation is about an historical event, yes – but not the one that happened over 500 years ago, but the one that happened some 2,000 years ago. Not at Wittenberg, but on Calvary.

The nails pounded through the 95 Theses and into the wooden doors of the Castle Church in Wittenberg were important. But the nails pounded through the flesh and bone of Jesus and into the wood of the cross, even more so. For it is through the cross where true reformation takes place. The reformation of the heart, as the Spirit sent by Jesus turns us sinners into saints, and re-forms us into the image of Christ.

And just as the people in Jeremiah’s day, and the people in Jesus’ day, and the people in Luther’s day, we need re-forming. Because sin is constantly de-forming us. Because we are constantly being con-formed to the ways of the world, and in-formed by what is not truth. And so we always need re-forming. By the Word of God. As individuals, and as a church.

Modernism, individualism, secularism, pietism, rationalism, popularism, institutionalism, and all kinds of other “–isms” seduce us away from Christ crucified, and to put our trust and our hearts in something else. Perhaps even Lutheran-ism, if we become like the Jews in Jesus’ day, and think: “We are offspring of Luther and have never been enslaved to anyone . . .”

Now again, don’t get me wrong! I thank God for Luther, and I am proud to belong to the confession of faith that is called Lutheran.

But it’s time that we asked a very Lutheran question about being Lutheran: What does this mean?

Does being Lutheran mean following Luther?

           Does being Lutheran mean not being Roman Catholic? Sadly, that is what many think.

But rather, I think, to be Lutheran simply means this: to be sinners re-formed by Christ crucified. Not re-formed by me, or what I am able to do in my life. Not re-formed by my own reason or strength. (Explanation of the 3^rd Article of the Apostles Creed) And not re-formed by what I feel in my heart. But re-formed by Christ crucified.

And so to be Lutheran means that the cross is not just an historical moment in time, but a present reality. Re-forming us, re-forming His Church, even today. It means that Holy Baptism is not what we do, but is a washing away of sin because through the water and the Word, we are joined to Christ crucified. (Romans 6) It means that the preaching of the Gospel is not just information, or instruction, or how to live a better life, but is the power of God (Romans 1:16) because it writes Christ crucified on our hearts. (OT reading from Jeremiah 31) It means that Holy Communion is not just a meal, but is the body and blood of Christ crucified, given to us to eat and to drink, to give us His forgiveness, life, and salvation.

And if we are joined with Christ in His crucifixion, then we are also raised with Christ Re-formed into His image. To live a new life. That we be no longer de-formed by sin, con-formed to the world, or in-formed by what is not truth – but re-formed into Christ. Christ crucified.

And so to be Lutheran also means taking Christ crucified into the world. Wherever God has placed you, whatever you have been given to do, surrounded by whomever. To live, as Jesus said, as one set free by the Son. (John 8) Perfectly free. Which means that we are at one and the same time perfectly free in faith and so subject to none, and perfectly free in love and so subject to all. (Luther, On the Freedom of a Christian) Using our freedom not as license, but in love. Serving, giving, forgiving. Laying down our lives, just as Christ has done for us.

Many do not want such a life, or such a God. Preferring a God who is instead strong and mighty, not weak and crucified. And preferring a life for us the same. The fiction Satan would have us believe is that those are opposites. That you cannot be both strong and weak, both mighty and crucified. And so you must choose. But the truth that Christ crucified shows us is that these are not opposites! And that God was never as strong as He was on the cross. That His power is made perfect is weakness. That the Almighty God became the Son of Man, because I am a son of man. He took flesh because I am flesh. Born under the Law because I am under the Law. (Galatians 4) And bore my sin on the cross. Dying, that I might live. Captive, to set me free.

 

To be Lutheran means that I cannot live without this Christ. Christ crucified. I cannot truly live here and now, and I cannot live eternally. Life apart from Christ here and now is but an imitation life. Earth can never be Paradise. But Christ crucified, Christ arisen, and Christ ascended means that I too have arisen and ascended. Not in the future, but already now. That I am forgiven, now. Reconciled to God, now. At peace, now.

And no terrorists, governments, rulers, disappointments, unfulfilled dreams, economic ruin, grief, or sickness can take that away! Or as Luther put it: “And take they our life, goods, fame, child, and wife, though these all be gone, Our victory has been won; The Kingdom ours remaineth.” (LW #298 v.4)

Have we gotten off message? Too concerned with sound bites, popularity, and growth? As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, I guess. We always need re-forming. We always need Christ crucified. Not once, but always.

And so in the end, we are Lutherans for the same reason we are Christians: by grace through faith in Christ crucified. The Reformation is all about one man. Thanks be to God!

In the Name of the Father and of the X Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon for Trinity 20 October 20-21, 2012

Trinity 20        Matthew 22:1-14                    October 20-21, 2012

In the Name of the Father and of the X Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The servants are sent out into the streets to invite as many as they find, the good and the bad. No respect is paid to rank, class, or privilege. Everyone, apart from works or genealogy, gets the same invitation. In a world with no free lunches the offer of an endless banquet in paradise seems too good to be true. But it is true. All things have been paid for, all things necessary have been sacrificed. The lamb, the wine, the best parts are on the table. It is prepared for you: no cost, no price. It is pure gift.

But many reject the invitation. Some are actually hardcore rebels. They know the invitation is from the King, but they don’t care. They hate the King. They want to rule themselves. They embrace Hell with affection. But most simply don’t believe the invitation is valid, that it actually is from the King, or even that there is a King. They have lived in delusion for so long that it has become comfortable. They are afraid of change, afraid to risk anything, afraid to come out of the darkness and be exposed. They don’t want to be noticed. They want to hide, keep their blemishes secret and pretend they are better than they are. Despite their blabbering they don’t have enough intellectual honesty to face the Word of God.

That is because the Word of God is a threat - to us all. For the Word of God wields the Law of God. It changes things. It kills and it makes alive. It threatens to break their hearts and change their minds. What they have always thought is wrong. What is comfortable, what makes sense, what they know from experience and reason, is wrong. What they think about God, what they think about man, what they expect from life - is all wrong. And that is pretty scary. God beckons them to a position of weakness and vulnerability, of faith in things that they cannot see. But what they can see, a man hanging on a cross, his followers persecuted and martyred, poverty and hunger, they do not like. So they scurry back to the darkness, back to the cold embrace of the devil in ignorance. They think they made the wise choice and in a sense they did. But the wisdom of men is folly and the foolishness of the cross is the only true Wisdom.

Thanks be to God, that a few are so desperate, so lonely, so tired, so hurt that they come despite the foolishness. They are the meek. But they inherit a kingdom. They are brought into the wedding hall, clothed with righteousness, and embraced as long-lost children. They are home at last. The loneliness and heartbreak, the weariness and fear, the frustration and pain of their time in the kingdoms of men is removed. They have been found and restored, forgiven and cleansed, filled with joy.

My friends, repent. Repent before it is too late. Seek the Lord while He may be found. Hear His Word and your soul shall live. Be meek. Let His Word have its way with you. Stop trying to match the Word with your ideas and doctrines, apologizing for the stern, jealous God of Abraham and rest in the sure mercies of David. Let God speak for Himself. For His thoughts are not our thoughts, nor His ways our ways. But His Word is Truth. It does not lie. It is not evil. It is good. It will accomplish that for which it was sent. Let it break your heart and change your mind. Let it expose you, make you weak and vulnerable. Be desperate for this joy. Be lonely outside of this fellowship. Be tired enough, weary enough, hurt enough to give up. For then you will be strong. In defeat you will find victory, in hunger satisfaction.

That is the way of the cross, the way Our God endured to make us His. It is a way, not an end. We have not yet arrived. We still have things to learn and things to suffer. The Word is still working on us, still breaking and changing us. We learn humility and faith in the exposure of our errors, our sin, and in His immeasurable Grace. The Word made Flesh covers us. Even as it breaks, it binds. It restores and refreshes us. The Father Himself loves you. He loves you individually, specifically, personally. He has sent His only Begotten Son to suffer, die, and rise again in your place. His Spirit has been planted in you through water and Word. You are His Temple. He feeds you with His Body and Blood, which you did not earn and could not buy. You are the Tabernacle, the place where He abides. He speaks to you in the Holy Absolution and you are forgiven, holy, righteous. Even now, He is guiding you home to the place where you belong through His Word.

You are a citizen of His Kingdom by virtue of the invitation. It doesn’t matter if you were good or bad. You are His. He has bought you. That is what matters. What you are supplants what you were. But you are still in a foreign land, traveling, eager to return home for your Prince’s wedding banquet. There is temptation along the way. The many beckon to you from their dark doorways like the sirens of Ulysses to destruction. Some have been seduced into depravation. They have shed the garment of righteousness and gone back into the darkness. Be warned. Be vigilant in prayer. Forsake the ways of men. Hold fast to the ways of God. For God has placed way stations like this along the way for you, places of His presence, of His Word and Sacrament, of His regenerating love; places for you to be re-broken and rebound, to be recast and recovered, to be reconnected with the saints who have gone before you, and forgiven again. God is here for you. You are in the right place.

And still, there is one more surprise of Grace. For when at last you arrive at the wedding hall you will find that you are not merely a guest, an honored niece or nephew, even a brother of the Bridegroom. You are the very Bride, the one for whom He did it all, the one He loves.

In the Name of the Father and of the X Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.