The Feast of Stephen/Christmas I

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The Nativity of Our Lord

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Christmas Eve Children’s Service

“The Waiting and the Wonder”

 I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed when Christmas Eve arrives. I know that sounds strange, but let me explain. The fact is, I love Advent. I’ve always been more at home in the anticipation than in the realization. I love the hymns of Advent, the expectation of Advent, the fact that it goes so contrary to the spirit of the world, which wants us to start celebrating Christmas on the day after Halloween, mostly for the sake of getting us to buy, buy, buy. And what’s the result? Anxiety, worry, rushing around from one place to another, one party to another, one store to the next. What’s the result? Complete exhaustion by the time Christmas actually arrives; by December 25^th, you never want to hear another Christmas carol again.

But Advent! Advent preserves a reflective place in the midst of everything that’s going on; a haven from cards and cookies and carols. Advent, it seems to me, is much more like real life: we spend far more time waiting than we do celebrating. And I wonder if that’s part of the issue: we don’t really know how to celebrate because we don’t really know how to wait. We don’t know how to fast, so we don’t know how to feast. We find it hard not to overindulge, overspend, overdo. Advent says, hold on a minute, light one candle a week, wait a while in the wilderness with the strange and the holy, like John the Baptizer. Hear again, as if for the first time, that this whole mess has been made right in Jesus, who is coming again to judge the quick and the dead. Advent is the skinny, crooked finger of the Baptizer, pointing in stark relief to the Mighty One who was to follow him—but pointing to a Mighty One who did not come in divine might, with fire and sword. Pointing to a glorious One whose glory was shown most clearly on a cross. Pointing to a Judge who would take on Himself the entire judgment due sinners in payment for their sin.

But that’s not the message of John only. It’s the message of the prophets, of the little town of Bethlehem, of the shepherds, and of the angels, as we will hear in a moment. Every prophecy, every Word of God—indeed, the entire creation—is summed up in the body of that Baby, who would give His Body and Blood on a cross for you. That it is for you, you can be sure, because God raised His Son from the dead, and now He lives and reigns, the same God-Man, at the Right Hand of God’s power.

And yet, even as we celebrate tonight, we still do not see it all. His power is still hidden, just as it was in that Virgin, that manger, that cave, that Man. Advent, in its waiting, makes the wonder of Christmas all the more wonder-full. And, of course, without the fulfillment of everything we wait and hope for, the waiting would be worthless.

So in this world that is too impatient to prepare and to gluttonous to celebrate, the Church of Christ takes her time with the wonder. To wonder at prophets speaking the Word of God centuries before the fulfillment; to wonder at God in diapers; to wonder, what Child is this in Bethlehem, silently pleading for sinners? To wonder at filthy, sheep-scented shepherds blessed with the song of angels; to wonder at God walking around in Nazareth and Galilee and Jerusalem; to wonder, as we come to adore the new-born King, what sort of King is this, who goes to a cross for His enemies, even you and me? So, whether you need help with the waiting, or with the wonder, the prophets, shepherds, and angels are here tonight to speak Jesus into our ears and hearts. Not just this December, or this Christmas, but throughout lives lived in both waiting and wonder, as the God-Man continues to come to us in water, words, wine and bread, for forgiveness, life, and salvation. There’s nothing more worthy of wonder than Him, as we wait for Him to begin the eternal celebration with a Word.

Let us pray: Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, we find it hard to wait in patient hope for the redeeming of this dying world; as we celebrate the Birth of Your eternal Son in time, grant, by Your Word, that we would never cease to wonder, and never cease to wait for that great Day, when the neverending feast of celebration will begin; for the sake of Your Son, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the whole world, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

– Pr. Timothy Winterstein, 12/18/10

‘O’ Antiphon for December 23

O Emmanuel, our king and our Lord, the anointed for the nations and their Savior:
          Come and save us, O Lord our God.

“O come, O come, Emmanuel,/And ransom captive Israel,/That mourns in lonely exile here/Until the Son of God appear” (LSB 357:1)

Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!



As you know, if you read the first post, using the first letter of each Name for Christ, beginning with Emmanuel, and going back to Wisdom (Sapientia), it spells out ERO CRAS, or “I come tomorrow.”  Alternately, sometimes the Antiphons were moved back a day, starting on December 16, and the last one was O Virgo virginum (O Virgin of virgins).  Thus, the acrostic was VERO CRAS, or “truly, tomorrow.”  A blessed celebration of our Lord’s Nativity to you!

Pr. Timothy Winterstein

‘O’ Antiphon for December 22

O King of the nations, the ruler they long for, the cornerstone uniting all people:
          Come and save us all, whom you formed out of clay.

“O come, Desire of nations, bind/In one the hearts of all mankind;/Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,/And be Thyself our King of Peace” (LSB 357:7). 

Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

Pr. Timothy Winterstein

‘O’ Antiphon for December 21

O Dayspring, splendor of light everlasting:
          Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.

“O come, Thou Dayspring from on high,/And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;/Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,/And death’s dark shadows put to flight” (LSB 357:6).

Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!



Pr. Timothy Winterstein

‘O’ Antiphon for December 20

O Key of David and scepter of the house of Israel, You open and no one can close, You close and no one can open:
           Come and rescue the prisoners who are in darkness and the shadow of death.

“O come, Thou Key of David, come,/And open wide our heav’nly home;/Make safe the way that leads on high,/And close the path to misery” (LSB 357:5).

Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

Crux Christi clavis Paradisi,
Pr. Timothy Winterstein

The Fourth Sunday of Advent

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‘O’ Antiphon for December 19

December 19

O Root of Jesse, standing as an ensign before the peoples, before whom all kings are mute, to whom the nations will do homage:
          Come quickly to deliver us.

“O come, Thou Branch of Jesse’s tree,/Free them from Satan’s tyranny/That trust Thy mighty pow’r to save,/And give them vict’ry o’er the grave” (LSB 357:4).

Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

Pr. Timothy Winterstein

The Funeral of Connie Braaten

“A Time to Die and a Time to Rise Again”

Matthew 11:2-15; Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

 

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

In the Church year, we are near to the end of the season of Advent, which is when we prepare to celebrate the birth of Christ and also when we learn to wait for the Second Coming of Christ. And, at first, that may seem to be completely unrelated to why we are here. After all, what does Advent have to do with a funeral? More than you might think. The last time I visited Connie before she went into the hospital, I shared with her this part of the Gospel of Matthew, about John and Jesus. At this point, John is sitting in Herod’s prison, which he would not leave in this life. Jesus is doing the things He came to do: healing the blind, lame, deaf, lepers, raising the dead, and proclaiming to anyone who would hear Him that the Reign of God has come in His very flesh—our flesh. Jesus fulfills every prophecy—indeed, every word—of God. But John is confused because it seems as if not much has changed: he’s still in prison, people still get sick and suffer, and people still die. And now we’re coming closer, because we live in pretty much the same dying world that John lived in. Other than advances in technology, comfort, and ease of transportation, the means and methods of man’s sinning have not changed, nor have their consequences. People are still imprisoned, whether within literal steel and concrete, or mental or physical prisons, as Connie knew all too well. People still get sick and suffer. People still die. There may be a time for laughing, but this is a time for weeping; there may be a time for dancing, but this is a time for mourning. This was Connie’s time to die, just as the Lord granted her a time to be born. These are things that all people observe and cannot avoid. But the question that we cannot avoid, just as John could not avoid it, is, “Are You the Coming One, or should we look for another?” Is Jesus really the Messiah? Is He really the One who came to put an end to sin, death, and the devil? Why do we still sit in prisons of loss and loneliness, prisons of wheelchairs and hospital beds, prisons of memory and experience? Jesus, are You the Coming One, or should we look for another?

Let me tell you what I have seen and heard. I have heard that on a silent and holy night God was born as a baby from the womb of a Virgin; that He grew into a Man who made the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, and lepers clean; I have heard that He raised the dead, and that He proclaimed the good news of the Reign of God to the poor, the empty-handed beggars, who have nothing to offer God—the same good news that is proclaimed to you today. I have seen the young and old ushered into the Kingdom by Jesus, using a little bit of water. I have seen Jesus forgive sins by a single Word, and by giving people His Body and Blood in a little bread and a little wine. By the same water of Baptism, Jesus brought Connie under His Reign on July 16, 1944. I heard her confess that she trusted Jesus to forgive all her sins; but her salvation and ours is not secured by the words we speak. It depends on one thing only: if any of us makes it into heaven on the way to the Resurrection of our bodies, it depends only on Jesus’ death and resurrection, which we trust is for Connie, and for you, and for me.

In this time when we are confronted with death, which is the consequence of sin; in this time when we mourn and weep, there is only one answer to the casket and the grave, and it is the same answer that Jesus gave to John: every healing of people’s bodies, every word He spoke to heal their souls—they were all signs that no one who has been joined to Jesus by baptism and faith (Mark 16:16) can stay dead or sick or suffering. He has died and risen again, and He cannot die again. So it is for Connie, and so it will be for you: if you have been joined to Jesus by baptismal death and resurrection, if you trust Jesus only for the forgiveness of everything you’ve done and everything you are, then death is already over and done with; the time for dying is completed in baptism. All that’s left for John the Baptizer, all that’s left for Connie, all that’s left for you and me is the time for resurrection—and that promise is as sure as Jesus’ empty grave. And the ones who have been blessed with that Faith will never fall away, but will look with trust and hope to the final Day, when all death and mourning and weeping will be removed from the creation forever. Until then, God’s people pray, as they always have: Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and raise us up to live with you forever; “For you are the Father’s Son who in flesh the victory won. By your mighty pow’r make whole all our ills of flesh and soul” (LSB 332:6).

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7, ESV). Amen.

– Pr. Timothy Winterstein, 12/15/10