Signs of the Times?

I grow weary of the inevitable interpretations of earthquakes, hurricanes, and various weather phenomena as indications that now, really now, we are beginning to see the signs of the end of all things approaching. The reasoning runs like this: Jesus said there'd be signs in the sun and moon and stars, and the waves, and men's hearts failing them from fear, etc., and now we can see that beginning to happen, so in this early 21st century we can see his prediction coming true. The trouble is that such interpretations of the weather have never been in short supply. Pick your century: 20th? Plenty of apocalyptic warnings there, that there's an increase of hurricanes and whatnot, which means that the end is near. The 17th? I think there were even two major prophecies bandied about by fringe groups in Europe pertaining to the last day: one said, I think 1669, and when that didn't happen, it was revised to 1699. The 16th? Luther himself has an Advent sermon in which he points to an increase of meteorological events as evidence that the end was near. And let's not forget the 14th: the great Plague which wiped out a third of Europe was almost universally seen as a sign that the end was near (and in a way, for many it was). Speaking of plagues, there was another in, what, the sixth century? And on top of the plague came this great earthquake in Italy. It was so bad the pope called for a grand procession of mourners.

So I'd say it's only the historically uninformed who might be convinced that now, today, there are lots of eclipses, earthquakes, tidal waves, etc. which we've never seen before. Well frankly, we have too.

In fact we saw them in Jerusalem, in AD 70: there was a great upheaval of the established order of things (nation rising against nation), Jerusalem was destroyed and Israel wiped out--and if you take the "sun" and "moon" and "stars" in Jesus' Lukan discourse on this in an apocalyptic rather than literal fashion, you might see fit to interpret them in much the same way as Joseph interpreted his dream about the same heavenly bodies, and see the fulfillment of this discourse in the obliteration of Israel; in short, Jesus' warning can be seen as having been fulfilled by AD 70; in fact he referenced "this generation" as not passing away till all be fulfilled.

So the end is near, surely. It has been near for two thousand years.

And in addition, the reason for these signs can be taken as an added warning to the words of Jesus, "take heed to yourselves, lest your hearts be weighted down." And if dreadful phenomena served to highlight his words for those people, perhaps we can begin also to understand why dreadful things in our own lives serve to highlight his warnings to us. This is why troubling things happen to God's people: he is warning them, he is driving them back to himself, back to their knees, back to his altar, to his word, to his Supper, to faith.

Here's the audio of a sermon on this, from the Second Sunday in Advent.

Out of the Barn

The sleigh is loaded down, the reindeer are harnessed, and the bags of goodies are on their way: Gottesdienst is out of the barn, and coming to a mailbox near you. Ho, ho ho!

Unless, of course, you have not subscribed. To correct that error, click here, and Santa will be glad to drop by your house too.

Here's a recommendation: St. Nicholas' Day is December 6, so in honor of that, and as a treat to yourself (or a friend), as we suggested, click here.

Hosanna to the Son of David

The crowds lining the streets of Jerusalem hailed their king, as they spread their garments in the way, and on the First Sunday in Advent we remember that at every Feast of the Sacrament we join them, echoing their song with the words of the Sanctus. We spread our garments in his way, in which are wrapped all of our fears, sorrows, sins, troubles, and ailments. His beast treads on them all,as he goes the way of the cross to redeem us from them all.

Advent is surely a time of penitential sorrow as we prepare our hearts to receive Christ, but it is also a time of great expectation and joy. For between his first coming and his second advent, he comes right now into our midst in this blessed feast, and we receive him, in fulfillment of the words of the prophet, "I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts."

(as an aside, I wonder and grieve over the many churches who still cannot see fit to celebrate the Holy Supper every Lord's Day, particularly on this day when hear in the Holy Gospel of the first utterance of those words which so brilliantly appear in our Sanctus. How could they not?)

Christ's coming is threefold: in the past, to be born in Bethlehem, in the future, as a return in glory, and in the present, in the Holy Sacrament. Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!

Here's the audio of today's sermon.

The ten virgins

The parable of the wise and foolish virgins is the Gospel for the Last Sunday after Trinity, which is highlighted well by the queen of chorales, "Wake, Awake, for Night is Flying." We discussed it on our radio show, set for airing Sunday. For regular weekly downloads of that show, check out www.stpaulsontheair.blogspot.com. But for a sampling, here is Sunday program, and the sermon preached:

Testing again . . .

Here goes another try at uploading an audio file. This is this Sunday's and this morning's (Tuesday) sermons, both on St. Matthew 25.31-46.

By the work worked

Of course I know what Luther was getting at when he assailed the Romanist ex opera operato error. His chagrin over the peasants who thought they could be saved from the wrath of God without faith, if only they gave indulgences, or if only the mass was performed for them, is pretty well known. Sort of reminds me of that old Star-Trek episode in which some extra-terrestrial is having Kirk and Spock over for dinner, and, in place of saying grace, he has some Hindu-ish guy come in and hit a gong. Sure, that counts, doesn't it? Well, I think that's the kind of mischief Luther had in mind when he decried ex opera operato -- by the work worked -- and insisted instead that the means of grace are to be understood instead as opera operantis -- works working and producing faith.

Right, agreed.

On the other hand it seems to me there's also a kind of mischief that obtains if we go into apoplexy any time a hint of ex opera operato is sniffed, because there is a way in which this phrase may be understood as having a proper and salutary meaning.

The power of the sacraments is not effected by faith; it is received by faith. And there's a huge difference. For if the former were true, then I would have to wonder about my faith, whether it was sufficient to do the trick, and I would be depending upon how reflexive my faith was, and, in the end, would be resting my salvation on something in me, namely my believing, rather than on something in Christ, namely His grace.

I was thinking about this as I visited a shut-in today, who was fretting over the fact that she couldn't remember anything, that her memory wasn't serving her well. And I assured her that what matters is that her Lord remembers her.

This got me thinking about the Sacrament, and about doing it "in remembrance" of Him. A recent issue of Gottesdienst has a great article by Chaplain Jonathan Shaw about the matter of who is chiefly to be thought of as doing the remembering there: Christ. Just as the angel of death saw the blood on the Israelites' doorposts, and it was the angel that did the remembering, and so passed over their houses, so also it is God who remembers the meaning of the blood of Christs which He sees, as it were, on our doorposts, and His judgment passes over.

And I got to musing, now there's a salutary way to think of ex opera operato: the Israelites were all spared by virtue of the blood on their doorposts. And this is a token of the effect of the Sacrament on us. While affirming that in the case of the Sacrament faith is requisite on our part, we must also declare that what we believe to be happening here is that it is God who is seeing the Blood, and it is He who is doing the remembering. We are saved by the work which Christ worked.

The Abomination of Desolation

There are probably about as many interpretations of St. Matthew 24 as there are interpreters, but that shouldn't stop us from taking a stab at it, particularly when it is the assigned Gospel (for the second Sunday of All Saints Tide), and especially if one believes that the parenthetical "let the reader understand" is an exhortation from the Evangelist meant for the one who is publicly reading this Gospel to provide an understanding for the hearers.

So here goes:

The abomination of desolation has something to do with the approach of Titus and the Roman armies -- frankly I can't figure out exactly what it is, but perhaps that doesn't matter so much -- and the indication that the Christians of ad 70 would have known precisely what it was, enough so that they all saw fit to flee Jerusalem, before the siege was laid to it.

According to the old Lutheran agendas, I read from the historical account of the destruction of Jerusalem today, a gruesome and despicable history which chronicles the fulfillment of Jesus' prediction in the first part of this Gospel.

What's interesting is that the second part of it is clearly about the Day of Judgment; hence, there is a blending of Jerusalem in ad 70 with the End of all things.

This is because Jesus was a prophet (He was the Prophet, actually), and as such, He did what all prophets do, gave a microcosm of the ultimate fulfillment of His prophecy within the immediate context of His first hearers. So when the microcosm occurs, or, as it were, the 'down-payment' on the final fulfillment, that is, when the 'type' is fulfilled, then that which it typifies or foretells may be the more confidently believed.

So therefore, since Jerusalem was destroyed in ad 70, and since this is a matter of record, therefore it is clear that the End of all things shall indeed come to pass.

So what, then is our abomination of desolation? It's hard to make definitive conclusions, but one thing is certain: when Christian worship is being replaced by entertainment and dance floors, this comes pretty close to being abominable. And when those guilty of perversion and sexual immorality are now being consecrated to serve at the altar, this is an absolute abomination. It is indicative of the desert-land that so many churches have become.

And so let us in our day 'flee to the mountains'-- let us run to the cross -- and let us as eagles be gathered around the Body of Christ.

Here's the audio: