Celebration of the Resurrection for Sylvia Rollins - 1924-2008

Zechariah 1:14-17
Holy Emmanuel Lutheran Church, Bloomington, MN

Ornery. If we are honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that one of the words that comes to mind when we think of my Great Aunt Sally is ornery. She was ornery, stubborn, had her own way of doing things.

Of course, that’s not to say that Sally was unloving. She loved her family and friends. One time Susan and I had our boys with us at my Grandma’s apartment. Wanting Sally to see the boys, we called her to see if she’d come down the hall. No, she didn’t feel like it. Ornery, I thought.

But then we offered to bring the boys down to her, and she said that’d be fine. Visiting with her in her apartment, it was clear that she was so glad to see us. There was no question that this ornery woman also wanted to shower love on our family.

I bring all of us this up partly because it’s better that we admit that Sally was ornery and just try to appreciate her for who she was.

But I also bring it up because really you have an ornery God. He’s ornery, stubborn in His own way.

Last Sunday, probably about the time that Grandma discovered Sally in her apartment, I was back in Milwaukee teaching a Bible study about Zechariah—where we hear that God is jealous for His people, that He has a zeal, a passionate, protecting love that demands our devotion because He knows that there is no other god out there.

The passage we were studying is from Zechariah chapter 1 where God says through the prophet:

“I am very jealous for Jerusalem and Zion, but I am very angry with the nations that feel secure…. Therefore…I will return to Jerusalem with mercy and there my house will be rebuilt…. The Lord will again comfort Zion and choose Jerusalem.”

That’s an ornery God. He wasn’t going to let the nation’s push around His people anymore; He wasn’t going to give up on His people—even if they had strayed from His ways. The Lord has such a passionate, stubborn love for His people that He wasn’t going to give up without a fight—to the death.

That’s an ornery God. His jealousy, His love sends Him with mercy and comfort. He draws His people back to Himself.

It’s this same ornery God who out-stubborned Sally. Like all of us, Sally was born a sinner, rejecting God, resisting His love, but God cannot be stopped by our stubbornness.

God’s Holy Spirit overcame Sally’s sinfulness in her baptism. From that day forward, the Holy Spirit worked in Sally—just as He does in you—working by the Word of God to strengthen her faith, lead her in the ways of Christ, comfort her in distress, confront her sin, and give her assurance through the promise of eternal life.

It’s an ornery Jesus we contemplate during these days of Lent. Jesus stubbornly refused to follow the temptations of Satan. Jesus stubbornly refused to back down when the Jewish authorities threatened Him. Jesus fought the temptation to skip out on suffering and death, and instead, He followed His Father’s will.

And even when it looked like Jesus was giving up on the cross, really He was just stubbornly accepting judgment in our place so that His people could be saved. It’s an ornery Jesus that would not let us be condemned for our sins; it’s an ornery Jesus that died so that we might live.

It’s that ornery Jesus that saved an ornery Sally. It’s that ornery Jesus who took Sally in her sinfulness and made her into His holy sister, a holy child of God the Father. And it’s to the praise and honor this ornery Jesus that we can celebrate today that Sally now has eternal life. Like the hymn we’ll sing in a moment, God has taken Sally to the new Jerusalem, her happy home for eternity.

And it’s this same ornery Jesus that promises this salvation and eternal life for you. No matter how stubborn and sinful you think you are, God doesn’t give up. Even if you feel like you’ve rejected Him too many times, remember that He keeps on looking for ways to save your ornery soul to the very day that you die. Nothing stops the jealous, zealous, passionate love of our God.

We can laugh about Sally’s stubborn streak, but God’s stubborn streak is no laughing matter. Instead, it’s what we depend on for eternal life, for victory over death, for turning our mourning into dancing, for making funerals into celebrations of life.

God be praised! He is ornery and has not let His people be destroyed. God be praised! Jesus is ornery and died and rose again to give Sally and all of us life forever with Him. Amen.

Lent Midweek:“Psalms for Worship, Psalms for Lent”Psalm 103 - “Hymn of Praise”

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I’m afraid that in order to describe the emotion, power, and celebration behind the Hymn of Praise and its place in a worship service, I’m afraid I can’t simply tell you about a particularly stirring moment when I was singing the Hymn of Praise in a past worship service.

I’m afraid I can only tell you that the Hymn of Praise should be somewhat like an emotional, powerful celebration that I experienced in a completely different setting.

October 18, 1997. Ryan Field on the campus of Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. Susan and I had graduated and were back for Homecoming and a big football game against Michigan State. [On the screens, you can see a picture of my ticket from the game]. After two seasons that ended with bowl games, the Northwestern Wildcats were fighting an uphill battle in the fall of 1997, so perhaps we weren’t really expecting to win.

But we were with old friends, standing among the current students, cheering every play, wishing we were still on the field with the marching band, and singing the fight songs with gusto.

Then unbelievably Northwestern took the lead in the fourth quarter, 19-17. Yet, the lead seemed like it would be quickly erased as Michigan State marched down the field, time running out, and our defense seeming to just let them come right down into field goal territory.

But the defense held them until the only thing the Spartans could do was attempt a kick on the final play of the game. By this point, everyone’s not just standing, but standing on the bleachers. In our hearts, we “expect victory,” as our sports slogan said, but really, it wasn’t a long field goal, and so could we really expect anything but defeat in the final second?

Well, time seemed to slow down as we sang one more chorus of the fight song, the teams lined up, we all screamed as loud as we could with the play right in front of the student section. The ball was snapped, the ball placed, the kicker kicked—AND IT WAS BLOCKED!!

We erupted in the biggest cheer, sigh of relief, astounded, dumbfounded, bewildered, “I can’t believe what I just saw” noise, and we were all jumping up and down on those bleachers, falling onto each other, hugging, high fiving, amazed at what we just saw.

That moment of being caught up in the air, jumping up and down, singing the fight song, asking each other if what happed had really happened, that moment, that’s why I kept my ticket all these years, and that, I’m here to tell you, is more of what the Hymn of Praise is supposed to be like than anything I usually think we achieve with a worship service.

Think about it. The Confession of sins in a worship should be a suspenseful moment, because really according to our own understanding, according to what we can see, according to the way we’d run the world if we were in charge, when we come to admit that we’re completely sinful, ignoring what the Creator and Ruler of the Universe has said, we should be defeated. There should be no hope of winning or even surviving that contest.

But then like a blocked field goal at the last second, linebacker Jesus reaches up with His big paw, knocks that ball down, and saves the game. Jesus knocks down eternal judgment, so that we can have eternal salvation.

And because of Absolution, because Jesus forgives all of our sins, the Hymn of Praise is meant to be our immediate, emotional, powerful, celebratory response to the victory that the Lord just made happen.

The Hymn of Praise is when we erupt in the biggest cheer, sigh of relief, astounded, dumbfounded, bewildered, “I can’t believe what I just saw” noise, and we are all jumping up and down on those bleachers—I mean, pews—, falling onto each other, hugging, high fiving, amazed at what we just heard from God’s Word.

Back at that Northwestern game we burst into the fight song, “Go U Northwestern!,” but in worship, we burst into the Hymn of Praise, a song meant to capture that unbelievable amazement about the forgiveness that God offers us.

That’s what’s going on with Psalm 103—a psalm of praise, a song of rejoicing, a fight song cheering on our Lord. Psalm 103 sounds better shouted out.

Bless the LORD, O my soul;
And all that is within me, bless His holy name!
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And forget not all His benefits:
Who forgives all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases,
Who redeems your life from destruction,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies,
Who satisfies your mouth with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
For as the heavens are high above the earth,
So great is His mercy toward those who fear Him;
As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us. (NKJV)

The Hymn of Praise should be shouted out, or as we’ve been doing each week during this Lenten Midweek series, the Hymn of Praise should be sung out with full gusto. We’ve been using “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” based on Psalm 103, and I’ve been hoping that by using the same hymn each week, that every week you’ll feel more and more comfortable with it until it becomes like a school fight song that has power and energy every time you strike up the band and the crowd sings along.

Because every time I find this old ticket from that Homecoming game, I can remember the ecstatic rush I felt when that ball got knocked down and victory was ours. And really, why should the Hymn of Praise be any different? I know someone will say that it loses its punch because we repeat the same thing every week, or at least the same order of service, that the Hymn of Praise can’t be like a game-winning moment because every week we know we’ll be forgiven and we know we’ll sing the Hymn of Praise.

But I’m telling you, that if an 11-year old ticket stub from a football game from a victory during a losing season can still cause me to remember that emotional, powerful celebration, then certainly when we hear that Jesus Christ forgives all of our sins, certainly that could bring up such a response, too.

Now, I know that Lenten tradition says that we tone down the Hymn of Praise, or maybe even omit it during this season, but I kept it in for a few reasons. One, I wanted to teach about the order of worship during this series, and I’ve always felt that the Hymn of Praise was an essential piece in the drama, the movement and energy of worship. But I also kept it in because even though we spend these weeks of Lent repenting, having sorrow over our sins, and contemplating our need for a Savior, still there isn’t a day that goes by when we forget that Jesus forgives our sins. And I can’t think about Jesus forgiving all of my sins without saying some kind of Hymn of Praise in my mind, shouting or singing about how thrilled and amazed I am that Jesus would forgive me.

So now that I’ve kept the Hymn of Praise in the service for Lent, and now that we’re talking about comparing the Hymn of Praise to that game-winning moment when the crowd goes wild and there’s complete pandemonium, now I’m going to ask you to do something that will completely take you out of your Lenten, traditional, Lutheran element. Some of you won’t want to go there with me, and that’s OK, but if some of you are ready, I want to try the Hymn of Praise again, this time as a cheer.

You see, a lot of times I hold myself back when I’m leading worship, because sometimes what I really want to do is scream and shout and jump up and down and push and pull and wave my arms and say, “Come on! Speak up, sing louder, smile, celebrate!” I hold myself back, because I know I’m not supposed to act like a cheerleader up here, but a lot of times I want to act like a cheerleader, anything to just get us to speak and sing and listen and stand and sit in a way that matches the most incredible things that we’re talking about here.

And this is how it should work.

Go back to that moment of silent reflection during the Confession, the time when you were thinking about your personal sins. Go back to that moment in the service, because that’s the place where the opposing team—sin, death, and the devil—were about to boot that kick through the uprights and win the game. Go back to that moment, stand there with anticipation, suspense, worry, fear, dread, a sense that it is inevitable that you’re going to lose, and then I say:

You wait for the Lord, because his love for you will never run out,
and because he has the power to set you free;
Only he will save you from your sins,
Only he has sent his son to die for you and rise again to give you new life.
Your sins are forgiven in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

And then you jump up and join in this cheer:

Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise Him, Praise Him, Praise Him!

The cheer is on the screens. The Lord just batted down that ball, stopped the game-winning play by sin, death, and the devil. Jesus just forgave all of your sins, won victory on the cross, conquered death, and has given you the victory over sin and death. Cheer with me!

Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise Him, Praise Him, Praise Him!
The Lord’s done so much for us. We can’t forget to give Him all praise, glory, and honor. Praise His Holy Name, because He has not forgotten His people. He came to our rescue, He came to save us, He came to keep us from going down in defeat forever. So let’s cheer for Him.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise Him, Praise Him, Praise Him!

Our team here could be called the Eagles, because like Psalm 103 says, God gives us the youth and strength of eagles. What a mascot for our spiritual condition! We should be considered like small, puny, mutant, ugly, rat-like birds that are barely alive, but God takes us, raises us up above all the others, makes us majestic, strong, sharp-sighted, fearless, and holy in His sight. Let’s go Eagles, let’s go! Let’s go, Eagles, let’s go! Let’s go and praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise Him, Praise Him, Praise Him!

Again Psalm 103 shows us the reason for praising God with a Hymn of Praise or a Cheer of Praise. The psalm says, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.” Think again about that defensive back reaching up to knock down the ball, blocking the kick, and saving the game. Well, Jesus reached up and knocked that ball clear to the other horizon, knocked away our sinfulness so far from us that it will never accuse us again, never be the cause of our judgment and death. So one more time, let’s praise Him, you Eagles! Stand on up!

Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise the Lord, O my soul,
Praise Him, Praise Him, Praise Him!

Lenten Midweek:“Psalms for Worship, Psalms for Lent”Psalm 130 - "Confession and Absolution"

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

From the Liturgy: Confession and Absolution
Psalm 130:1-4a,5-8 - trans. Gordon Jackson, The Lincoln Psalter, altered

Pastor: His thoughts are deep, but we are deep in a different kind of way—deep in the trap of our sins. So we cry out to God saying: Out of the pit we call you, Lord;
People: please, Lord, hear us
Pastor: Though our voices are faint let them reach your ears
People: and touch your heart of mercy.
Pastor: Lord, if you keep a tally of all our sins
People: then all of us are done for;
Pastor: But Lord, you like to forgive;
People: So we wait on the Lord, we wait in our soul,
Pastor: his word is our only hope;
People: We look for the Lord,
Pastor: eager as any watchman for the morning.

Pastor: You wait for the Lord, because his love for you will never run out,and because he has the power to set you free; Only he will save you from your sins, Only he has sent his son to die for you and rise again to give you new life. Your sins are forgiven in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
People: Amen.

The parts of the sermon in blue were read from the center of the Chancel, mimicking the liturgical movement during the Confession and Absolution.

It’s a lovesong for the loveless. Psalm 130 is a lovesong for the loveless and the hopeless. Confession and Absolution in worship is a lovesong for the desperate and the lonely.

“This is a lovesong for the loveless.” The Gospel is a lovesong for the loveless and the hopeless. When we confess to God, when we admit to God that we are sinners, that we are so completely the opposite of what He wants us to be, when we admit how hopeless we are when we look at ourselves, then the Gospel is a lovesong for us, a lovesong for the loveless and the hopeless.

That phrase—“lovesong for the loveless”—comes from a song by a band called the Juliana Theory. I won’t play a clip from the song, because only some of you would appreciate the hard rocking sound, but I’ll put the lyric on the screens, because we can all appreciate how the words apply to Psalm 130, Confession and Absolution, the Gospel, and Lent.

Almost always near the beginning of a worship service, Confession is where we admit that because we’re sinners, because we’re so far from God, that really we have no right to approach Him, no right to come before His presence, stand at the altar, talk to Him in prayer, no right to even think that God should do anything except strike us down dead for our sins.

In fact, a helpful way to imagine that part of the worship service is to think it’s like you’ve been kicked out of church, that you were excommunicated because of your sins during the week, and now you’re coming to God, admitting what you’ve done wrong, asking for mercy, love, and forgiveness, pleading with God to look on you with favor because of Jesus Christ. You’ve been kicked out, and now you’re begging for God to let you back in.

You’re begging God to let you back in, because it’s just so bad outside, so strange, cold, hurtful, hopeless, lonely, and desperate when you’re away from God. It’s like you’re lost in a pit, you’ve fallen into the stormy ocean depths, sinking fast. Which is where Psalm 130 starts. . .

Out of the depths I have cried to You, O LORD;
Lord, hear my voice!
Let Your ears be attentive
To the voice of my supplications.
If You, LORD, should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand? (NKJV)

Out of the pit we call you, Lord;
please, Lord, hear us
Though our voices are faint let them reach your ears
and touch your heart of mercy.
Lord, if you keep a tally of all our sins
then all of us are done for.

“Most merciful God, we confess that we are by nature sinful and unclean.”

That’s the traditional Confession of Sins, but it’s just like Psalm 130, it’s a cry from the depths, a cry from people who know they are caught in the pit of sin, people who know that they should be struck down for their misdeeds.

“Most merciful God, we confess that we are by nature sinful and unclean. We have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved You with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We justly deserve Your present and eternal punishment. For the sake of Your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in Your will and walk in Your ways to the glory of Your holy name. Amen.” (Lutheran Service Book)

Out of the pit we call you, Lord;
please, Lord, hear us.

And He does hear us. As certain as Jesus heard the thief on the cross who said, “Lord, remember me in Your kingdom,” as certain as that, Jesus hears you when you ask Him to remember you. As sure as Jesus promising that the thief would be with Him in eternity, as sure as that, Jesus promises that you will be with Him forever.

Just like the lyrics from the Juliana Theory song, Jesus is sending out His Gospel, His lovesong for the loveless, and He says, “You can be certain I’m with you when I sing.” You can be certain that Jesus is with you when He sings, when He speaks, when He shares His Word with us, when He cries out in despair from the cross, when He declares His victory in the Resurrection, when He speaks to the Father in the eternal throne room above, you can be certain that He is with you and has made it possible for you to be with Him forever.

“You could have nothing but you’ll still have me,” the song says. You could lose everything in life, you could see how sin makes you worthless in the grand scheme of things, but you’ll still have Jesus.

That’s the great surprise, the wonderful moment, the tremendous recognition of faith, the thing that we celebrate every worship service, the turning moment, the time when hopelessness turns tail, reverses course, and becomes full-fledged hopefulness. It’s Absolution, it’s forgiveness, it’s the lovesong for the loveless.

“This is a lovesong for the loveless.”
The Gospel is a lovesong for the loveless and the hopeless.

But Lord, you like to forgive;
So we wait on the Lord, we wait in our soul,
his word is our only hope;
We look for the Lord,
eager as any watchman for the morning.

You wait for the Lord, because his love for you will never run out,
and because he has the power to set you free;
Only he will save you from your sins,
Only he has sent his son to die for you and rise again to give you new life.
Your sins are forgiven
in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

But [Lord,] there is forgiveness with You,
That You may be feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
And in His word I do hope.
O Israel, hope in the LORD;
For with the LORD there is mercy,
And with Him is abundant redemption.
And He shall redeem Israel
From all his iniquities. (NKJV)

“Almighty God in His mercy has given His Son to die for you and for His sake forgives you all your sins. As a called and ordained servant of Christ, and by His authority, I therefore forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” (Lutheran Service Book)

Psalm 130 is a song written for the people to use on their way to the Temple, on their climb up the hilly road leading to the Holy City, to Jerusalem, to the Temple, on their way to worship the Lord. It’s a song to sing in preparation, admitting their sins, admitting that it is only through God’s love, mercy, and forgiveness that they should even dare approach God’s presence on that Holy Hill.

Confession works like Psalm 130. It’s the part of the service when we’re preparing to approach the Lord, we’ve come to hear His Word, we’ve come to receive His body and blood, we’ve come to talk to Him in prayer, but as we’re on the way up—so to speak, as we’re entering the sanctuary, as we’re looking towards that altar, we pause to confess, to admit, to come clean with the truth, to cry out to God from the pit of our own sins. We ask God: “Please don’t hold our sin against us; lift us up, bring us close, let us be here in Your presence.”

That’s what Lent is all about, too. We spend these weeks before Easter, pausing to think, to really take stock of our actions, stopping to realize just how much we needed Jesus to go to the cross for us—as ugly as it may sound, that we needed Jesus to be killed so that we can live. We’re walking up the hill, we’re approaching the cross, we’re walking out of the deep pit of sin, and we’re singing Psalm 130 the whole way, confessing our loveless, hopeless, desperate, lonely condition.

And whether in Psalm 130—“But with You there is forgiveness,” or in the traditional absolution—“Almighty God in His mercy has given His Son to die for you,” those words of forgiveness come as the lovesong for the loveless. It’s where Jesus promises that He will always be with you; it’s where God invites us to stay here, approach Him, talk to Him, receive His gifts, and go home confident that He will be always with us. Often you’ll see us as pastors not go up to the altar until after the absolution, symbolizing that only through the forgiveness of Jesus are we able to confidently approach the Lord.

(stepping up to the altar) And when we take that step, when we’ve said the words of Absolution, when we’re spoken the forgiveness of Jesus, then you should be able to hear a beautiful song from the Lord, a lovesong for the loveless, a melody that pierces your gloom, lifts you out of the pit, and places you in the arms of God the Father who showers His blessings on you.

I don’t know what may have brought to the depths today; I don’t know what has caused you to realize just how sinful you are; but I do know that Jesus has given you His lovesong called the Gospel.

You don’t know what will be your deep pit in the future; you don’t know what you’ll be thinking about each time you come here to worship; but you know that Jesus will be here offering you His lovesong called forgiveness.

It’s a lovesong for the loveless. Psalm 130 is a lovesong for the loveless and the hopeless. Confession and Absolution in worship is a lovesong for the desperate and the lonely. You can be certain Jesus is with you when He speaks His Word of forgiveness. You could have nothing but you’ll still have Jesus. Easter will come with the celebration of Resurrection, victory, and eternal life, and you’ll know that it is the Lord’s lovesong for you. It’s a lovesong for the loveless.

Lenten Midweek:“Psalms for Worship, Psalms for Lent”Psalm 92 - “Invocation and Call to Worship”

I finished writing this sermon this morning just as it became clear that the season's biggest Winter Storm was going to mean we had to cancel services. The sermon is here in its entire, unpreached form.

Click here to see the entire order of service.

Ash Wednesday
Lenten Midweek: “Psalms for Worship, Psalms for Lent”
Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Our Lenten Midweek series, “Psalms for Worship, Psalms for Lent,” highlights six psalms that reflect different parts of a worship service while also having some themes in them that will help our meditation during this Lenten season. After each Wednesday, I’d encourage you to make that night’s psalm the focus of your personal devotions during the week. The order of service for these Wednesdays is constructed around those six psalms, and each week we’ll look at one psalm, its place in the worship service, and where it shows the Lenten theme of repentance.

Each sermon in this series will have two parts: first, a brief explanation or study of the psalm, and then second, a poetic, worshipful expansion of the psalm. It’s like my high school band director used to say about jazz: first you have to learn the basics, and then you can let loose with improvising. Tonight we’ll explore Psalm 92 which is used for our Call to Worship. First, we’ll learn the basics, and then we’ll let loose with seeing how this psalm calls us to worship.

Some of the psalms have superscriptions, a little explanation or instruction given in the ancient Hebrew text before the psalm itself starts. Psalm 92 is a natural choice for a Call to Worship since the superscription says: “A song for the Sabbath,” meaning it was written specifically for use in the Temple worship on the Sabbath.

Psalm 92 is written in the first person singular—“I sing for joy” or “You have made me glad”—which might make us think this was a personal psalm, a song written by one person and meant to be used in a personal way. But the way the psalm is constructed, the way each verse has two parts which echo each other, say the same thing in a very similar way, makes it ideal for a use by a leader and congregation. The leader sings or speaks the first part of a verse, and the congregation responds with the second half.

Our worship services always begin with the Invocation—“In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”—which is often followed by the Opening Sentences—what was traditionally called the Opening Versicles—what I’ve called here in tonight’s service the Call to Worship—which also has the spirit of the traditional Introit. No matter what we call those opening words of the service that occur after the Invocation, whether Opening Sentences, Opening Versicles, Call to Worship, or Introit, the basic idea remains the same: verses from Scripture are read responsively by the pastor and congregation as a way to focus our attention on worship, highlight the theme of the service, and see that worship doesn’t begin with our action—but rather begins with the action of God who gave us His Word.

One writer talks about the use of verses like these saying: “[They’re] an appeal darted swiftly forth to God, a cry from the heart uttered by the [leader], in which the [congregation joins] by making the response,” (Cabrol, see endnote). “An appeal darted swiftly forth to God,” a prayer that goes quickly to God, a prayer with brief phrases that echo what goes on in our hearts.

When we cry, when we’re overwhelmed, we don’t talk with long sentences, complicated paragraphs, and sermons. We cry out with short bursts, blurting out about our needs and wants and hopes and fears.

Psalm 92 blurts out its thoughts about God—not so much because of any distress but more out of being overwhelmed by the goodness of God. That’s what makes it an ideal example of how we start of worship service. We call out in short bursts, short phrases that remind us of just how wonderful our Lord is. We’re eager to be in God’s presence, although we’re also timid about approaching God. We’re excited to hear about God, but we also want to hear about His love, graciousness, and forgiveness which make us confident about being here.

Please turn in your bulletin to the beginning of tonight’s service where we have the Invocation and Call to Worship.

The Invocation is always a reminder of our baptisms, the Word of God said at our baptisms that gave us God’s Name and made us part of His family. Psalm 92 as a Call to Worship immediately picks up on that theme in that opening verse—“O Lord, it does us good to give you thanks,/to fill our lungs with the name of the Most High.” “To fill our lungs” with His Name. Worship is about God’s Name, celebrating who He is, and speaking His Name gives us a kind of joy that we can’t find in any other way. It’s the joy of a child seeing a parent and calling out—“Daddy” or “Mama.” It’s the joy of seeing a spouse after a long absence and calling out their name. It’s the joy of knowing we are in God’s presence in this place.

Our Call to Worship from Psalm 92 continues, showing that this joy doesn’t just have to be limited to our time here. The psalm says that it is good “to start the morning off with good news of your love,/and to close the day with thanks for your faithfulness.”

Knowing what we do about Christ and what He has done for us changes how we understand the next phrase, “You made us find joy in what you have done, O LORD./We will sing joyfully about the works of your hands./How spectacular are your works, O LORD!/How very deep are your thoughts!” More than just celebrating God’s Creation of the world, more than just celebrating God’s work in the historical record—the ways He helped the people of Israel, now that we know about Jesus Christ dying on the cross, rising again, and promising to give us life after death, now when we say we find joy in the Lord’s work, now we know that our highest joy comes from the work of Jesus.

Which shows that more than just being a Psalm for Worship, Psalm 92 can also be a Psalm for Lent. For your Lenten meditations on this psalm, turn to the full psalm and notice there in verse 7—“ When the wicked spring up like grass,/And when all the workers of iniquity flourish,/It is that they may be destroyed forever” (NKJV). It’s a stark reminder of our need for repentance, our need to admit just how lost we’d be with God, how we are the wicked, workers of iniquity, workers of sin who should be destroyed forever.

Thanks be to God, though, that His thoughts are very deep, including His mercy which is beyond our understanding. Because of His mercy, because the Lord sets up with the righteousness of Christ, then we can confidently speak verse 13: “Those who are planted in the house of the LORD/Shall flourish in the courts of our God.” The Lord has planted us in His house, the Lord has planted His Spirit in our hearts, so that we will flourish, we will prosper in eternity, we will have life after death.

Psalm 92 calls us to prepare ourselves for Easter in repentance during Lent, which is similar to how the Call to Worship is used in our worship tonight and on future Wednesdays. Psalm 92 calls us to worship the Lord, giving thanks, but when we realize how good He is, we are quickly ready to turn to the next part of our service, Confession and Absolution, admitting how bad we are compared to the Lord’s goodness. That’s what we’ll explore next week, but I just wanted you to see that even Psalm 92 has that movement—from celebrating God to seeing how much we need God’s mercy.

With all of that as explanation, now let’s turn to the poetic, worshipful expansion of the psalm. We’ve learned the basics, and now we’re ready to let loose with Psalm 92’s Call to Worship. Here’s what’s going to happen. First, I’m going to ask you to read the Call to Worship responsively again, so turn to the opening page of the worship. I’m going to ask you to put your heart into what you’re saying, responding loudly and with genuine passion. After that, I’m going to improvise a bit, let loose and expand on those ideas, and then when I signal you, stand and say the Call to Worship one more time. Fill this space with sound, knowing that the Lord who has gone to the cross for you has invited you to be here tonight, to be in His presence.

Pastor: O Lord, it does us good to give you thanks,
People: to fill our lungs with the name of the Most High,
Pastor: To start the morning off with good news of your love,
People: and to close the day with thanks for your faithfulness,
Pastor: You made us find joy in what you have done, O LORD.
People: We will sing joyfully about the works of your hands.
Pastor: How spectacular are your works, O LORD!
People: How very deep are your thoughts!

You made man with the breath of life, (and)
Speaking Your Name is a new breath of life.

We sing, make music and move in You—
Morning, noon, and night.
24/7/365
The doors are never locked at the 7-11
And they’re never locked on this kind of joy.

We celebrate the world You’ve made.
We celebrate Your Creation.
Snow, sleet, and rain,
Earth and all stars,
Rocks—hills—fields and floods
All resound with the sound of joy.

But even more than that,
We raise our hearts
With this profound—joy we’ve got.
Profound.
Astounded.
Bowed down.
Heaven bound
Standing on holy ground.

The cross is so far beyond
Any thought we might have had.
Can’t be topped by a new age guru,
Can’t be bettered by a self-improver.
It’s so spectacular.
Supernatural.
Death on the cross for me.

We’ve got
Ashes on foreheads,
Crosses made of ash, ’cause we need a bath,
A baptism bath,
Washing us clean by water and Word,
Washing off the sinful stains.

The Lord, my God, be praised,
My light, my life from heaven.
What comfort this sweet sentence gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives—
Lives by God’s own incredible work.
It’s a very deep thought indeed.

Pastor: O Lord, it does us good to give you thanks,
People: to fill our lungs with the name of the Most High,
Pastor: To start the morning off with good news of your love,
People: and to close the day with thanks for your faithfulness,
Pastor: You made us find joy in what you have done, O LORD.
People: We will sing joyfully about the works of your hands.
Pastor: How spectacular are your works, O LORD!
People: How very deep are your thoughts!

Endnote
“They may be described as an appeal darted swiftly forth to God, a cry from the heart uttered by the cantor or lector, in which the faithful join by making the response. The versicle is often truly eloquent in its laconic brevity. Owing to the parallelism of their verses, the greater part of the psalms lend themselves admirably to this form of prayer….” (Fernand Cabrol, Liturgical Prayer: Its History & Spirit. Translated by a Benedictine of Stanbrook. London: Burns, Oates, and Washborne, 1922. p. 34)

2 Peter 1:16-21 - “Even an Eyewitness Doesn’t Trust His Eyes”

Listen to the audio of this sermon (Real Player)

Transfiguration
(Year A - Lutheran Service Book readings)
Sunday, February 3, and Monday, February 4, 2008

(sing)
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord

Wait. “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.” On this side of the second coming of Jesus, I’m not sure that we can sing those words. We haven’t seen the glory of the Lord with our eyes. Considering what we just heard in the Gospel reading, the Transfiguration of the Lord on the mountain, I think that the only people who can sing those words might be Peter, James, and John, who were on that mountain and saw Jesus in His full glory.

In fact, in today’s New Testament Letter, the reading from Peter’s second letter, Peter just about says those very words from “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Peter says, “We were eyewitnesses of his majesty…. for we were with him on the holy mountain.”

You can almost hear Peter singing, (sing) Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. It’s like Peter’s saying to us, “You had to be there. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

At least that’s what we might think Peter would say. We might think that Peter would go around singing about seeing the glory of the Lord. We might think that as much as Peter might have told others about Jesus, still he’d always have to end up saying to people, “It’s too bad you couldn’t have been on that mountain, because seeing is believing. Seeing the glory of Jesus in person is about the only thing that would probably help you truly believe in Him.”

Peter must have believed in Jesus because he was an eyewitness to the Transfiguration. At least that’s what we think, because we have a lot of trouble believing in things we can’t see. We want proof. We want things proven in a scientific, rational, explainable way. So we imagine that if we were Peter, James, or John, that our whole faith in Jesus would exist because we got to see with our own eyes. We imagine that if we had been there, we’d believe in Jesus because we were eyewitnesses.

So we’d understand if Peter had said, “You’d have to see it to believe it.” After all, we say this to each other about much less incredible things than seeing Jesus transfigured, transformed and revealed in His divine glory, so it wouldn’t surprise us if Peter said, “You’d have to see it to believe it.”

But would it surprise us to think that Peter said just the opposite? Would it surprise us to think that Peter, an eyewitness to the Transfiguration, actually said, “I can’t believe my own eyes”?

Because that’s really what Peter is saying in our reading from his second letter. He’s not saying, “You’d have to see it to believe it.” He’s saying, “I can’t believe my own eyes. I can’t believe what I saw on that mountain. I don’t believe in Jesus because of what I saw. I don’t trust my eyes.”

Peter says: “But we have something more sure, the prophetic word.” We have something more sure? Something more sure than seeing Jesus go from regular guy to dazzling white with divine glory standing and talking to Moses and Elijah, the prophets from long, long ago? There’s something more sure than that experience?

Yes. Peter is saying, “I can’t believe my own eyes; I can only believe the Word of God.” Peter is saying, “I am an eyewitness who doesn’t trust his own eyes.” (cover eyes with hands)

And this is incredibly important for us who live more than 2000 years after the Transfiguration. Our faith can’t be based on sight, because we’re living long after the fact. If Peter was telling us that we had to be eyewitnesses, then we’d have no chance.

Now Peter does write about his experience on the mountain but not to make us feel like we’re left out in the cold. He talks about his experience to show his authority as an apostle, to explain why he can so forcefully write about the Christian faith. But he doesn’t bring up being an eyewitness in order to make us all feel left out, like we’ll always be lacking something crucial for salvation.

He’s saying that even he doesn’t believe his eyes, doesn’t trust in what he saw. “We have something more sure,” more sure than what he saw on the mountain, more sure than being with Jesus, more sure than all of his first-hand experience as an apostle. The prophetic word of God is more sure; it’s what we all can trust in for salvation.

Peter doesn’t want us getting caught up in dreaming that believing in Jesus would so much easier if we could just see Jesus. Faith in Jesus comes through the Word of God—which Peter so beautifully describes.

“And we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts” (English Standard Version).

The Word of God is the light of God shining in our dark sinful hearts, shining brightly until the day dawns, until faith is created, and the morning star, Jesus, rises in our hearts. The Word of God shines into our hearts until the day dawns, the day that Jesus returns and takes us to be with Him forever.

I think Peter describes the Word of God with this beautiful image, because he was so very aware that experience was a poor foundation for faith. Peter experienced a lot of things, but none of it had any lasting impact on his faith—except the Word of God. Which is exactly what we’ll find in our lives: nothing we experience will be as sure as the Word of God.

Think about the experiences that Peter had. Peter’s the one who confesses that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, the Promised One, but then turns around and tells Jesus not to talk about being killed, prompting Jesus to call him Satan. Peter says he will never fall away, never deny Jesus, but then hours later, he denies Jesus three times, vehemently, cursing himself.

Even back at the Transfiguration, Peter sees this wonderful sight, and then in his very human way, says, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. Let us build three shelters.”?

What do you mean, Peter? Three shelters? Who needs a shelter? You know that Jesus never sleeps in one place for very long, and Moses and Elijah are in eternity. Don’t you get it, Peter? Heaven and earth are meeting in the person of Jesus.

But no, yet again, Peter was showing how human he is, how much like us he is. Peter wasn’t easily convinced about the truth. All of the disciples seem to follow Jesus quite easily, but all along they were confused over what was really going on.

That’s why I don’t like so many of the movies made about the Gospels, because they make the disciples out to be like they’re walking around in a trance. “We will follow Jesus.” But the disciples were all very human, confused and having difficulties with many of the same questions we have.

Peter is like us. We struggle at times to believe, struggling to understand that Jesus dying on the cross gives us salvation, struggling to believe that the Jesus is true and not just some made up story. Peter wasn’t easily convinced of the truth either, and he wasn’t convinced because he was an eyewitness. He was convinced in the same way that we can be convinced: the Word of God shining as a lamp in our dark hearts.

Yet, we struggle because we have times in our lives when we feel so close to God. . .and then when those times are gone, when we’re feeling distant from God, we start to wonder: where is God? We wish we could get back to those good old days. We wish we could feel close to God again, never realizing that our feelings, our experiences, the events in our lives will never be as sure as the Word of God.

Again, think about what Peter experienced. He might have said to himself, “Gosh, I wish I could have that feeling again that I had when I walked on water, walked on the water because I trusted in Jesus. Now that was a time when I really felt strong in my faith.”

But as soon as Peter would think about that day, that moment of strong faith, he’d also remember how quickly he began to doubt, he saw the wind and waves and started to sink and Jesus had to grab him to save him.

Peter may have sometimes gotten caught up in thinking he needed to get back to some shining moment of faith, some experience that would somehow keep him strong in the faith, but Peter—just like us—would have to admit that a moment of feeling close to God is often minutes away from an experience that proves just how distant we are from God.

Instead, Peter points to what we need: the Word of God.

That transforming word is passed onto us. Instead of being something that we can’t experience or know, instead of Peter saying that we’d have to see it to believe it, Peter shows us that the Word of God is the foundation, the standard, the base, the rock on which our faith is built.

(place chair in front of altar)

I remember one time sitting in my office, trying to write a sermon, and just staring at the chair across from my desk. I wanted Jesus to be in that chair. I wanted Him to truly be with me there in my office. I wanted Him to help me understand His message and give me the words to say.

I prayed saying, “Jesus, you should be in that chair. I want you to be here right now. I’m tired of trying to figure this out on my own. Why aren’t you here with me?”

I stared at the empty chair in my office, and it still didn’t make any sense. So out of frustration, I kept studying, reading, working on that sermon. I took my eyes off of the empty chair and—saw the Word of God.

I wanted Jesus to be in that chair, and I wanted to hear His comforting words. I was getting so frustrated because Jesus wasn’t physically sitting in the chair that I almost missed the fact that God’s Word is gives me all of the comforting words I need. (place Bible on chair)

Through God’s Word, we are eyewitnesses to the Transfiguration and everything that God has done for His people. Through God’s Word, we are able to see what God is doing in the world, why He sent Jesus, what it means for us, and what it means for the future. Through God’s Word, we can sit at His feet, so to speak. We can read His Word, we can hear His comfort and peace, His promise of forgiveness for our sins, His promise to save us and give us eternal life. We can hear His words, His promise to always be with us. He may not be literally sitting in the chair, but still we have His Word.

If we just see the empty chair, we’re thinking that we have to see to believe. If we just see the empty chair, we want to see to believe.

But if we ignore the empty chair and see the Word of God, now we’re thinking that we can’t believe our eyes. If we can’t believe our eyes, then we’re no longer wishing to see Jesus in the chair. If we can’t believe our eyes, we don’t need to see Jesus, because even if we could see Jesus, we know it wouldn’t be enough. If we ignore the empty chair, then we’re just listening to the Word of God. And the Word of God is the only sure thing, the only sure prophetic word, the only foundation for our faith. Whether an eyewitness like Peter or people living 2000 years later like us, the Word of God is the only thing we need to believe.

And praise the Lord, we have the Word of God.
Now may the Word of God be a lamp shining in your dark hearts, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.