practice

She walked quickly down the sidewalk, hoping this counted as exercise. Sometimes walking was good for thinking, but she did not really feel like thinking this evening. It was almost as if she had too much to think about. It was a cool summer evening, normal for this part of the country. The flowers were lovely, the grass and trees were green, and she thought briefly of the heat and drought back home. The pavement here was still wet from the earlier rain showers, and she could still catch the scent of rain in the air. As she rounded a corner she caught the sunset through the trees. It was the usual glowing pinks; pretty, but not the brilliance she could often see back home. She wanted to go home, but the time was not right yet. She ducked some low hanging branches and rounded another corner. More flowers, and a bird that did not look familiar in the growing twilight. She imagined it looked at her for a moment, sharing the moment with her. She kept walking, around the last corner. She saw a young man who was meandering rather aimlessly down the sidewalk toward her. In the world now, passing any stranger at odd hours heightened her senses. She smiled briefly at him as she passed, and was surprised by the smile he returned. It was brighter than she had anticipated, and there was something about it that seemed to light up his face for the brief moment it took her to pass him. Surely malintentioned men did not smile like that. People were a mystery, and fascinating. All their lives, intricately balanced and woven, meeting one another briefly or at length, all moving this way and that but ultimately toward the same destination. People were fascinating. She reached the door, unlocked it, and headed inside.

Luther and Christ crucified

 The heart of Luther’s understanding of Christ crucified is Christ our Redeemer, who “brought us back from the devil to God, from death to life, from sin to righteousness” (Large Catechism, 434) and maintains us in this. Christ is the heart of it, and without Christ nothing would be accomplished because we can do nothing apart from Christ.

Christ took ourselves upon himself when he took on human flesh, and in that incarnation and our union with Christ through faith we are given his righteousness and he takes our sin. Luther called this Christ wearing our mask. “Therefore when, inside our mask, He was carrying the sin of the whole world, He was captured, He suffered, He was crucified, He died; and for us He became a curse. But because He was a divine and eternal Person, it was impossible for death to hold Him. Therefore He arose from death on the third day, and now He lives eternally; nor can sin, death, and our mask be found in Him any longer; but there is sheer righteousness, life, and eternal blessing” (Galatians commentary, 6). This is called the happy exchange or the fortunate exchange. Christ takes all our death and sinfulness and gives us his righteousness and life. Luther likens this to a marriage, saying that when Christians are united to the bridegroom, Christ, as his bride, what was his is ours and what was ours is his, and he has conquered our sin (Freedom of a Christian, 4). Christ had mercy on us in our distress and in our sin, had mercy on us, and was crucified, died, and raised for us. Christ could take us on because of his divinity, and because of his humanity we could share in his conquering of sin, death, and the devil. Those things no longer have the final word, because Christ has overcome them. Luther says this is the comfort Christ gives us through faith.

In Luther’s Freedom of a Christian he talks about the two natures of humanity, the inner man and the outer man. The inner man is who receives the righteousness of Christ through faith after he realizes he is sinful and needs Christ and then believes in Christ. The state of the inner man determines the actions of the outer man, and this is where good works are involved. Just as a tree is known by its fruit, so is a man by his works. Luther gives an example: “A bishop, when he consecrates a church, confirms children, or performs some other duty belonging to his office, is not made a bishop by these works. Indeed, if he had not first been made a bishop, none of these works would be valid. They would be foolish, childish, and farcical. So the Christian who is consecrated by his faith does good works, but the works do not make him holier or more Christian” (Freedom, 7). Because a Christian is justified by Christ, because Christ has traded his holiness for our sinfulness and conquered sin, death, and the devil so that we might have life and righteousness, we do good works because they flow from the depths of our redemption and our new holiness we have received.

Thus Christ crucified and raised for us is the heart of everything. We trust Christ for our redemption and salvation and we receive faith to hold us in these promises and this new life that has been wrought through the death and resurrection of Jesus.

taking up the cross?

In one of my classes we had to write a paper about who Jesus is. As I was reading the textbooks and my classmate’s papers, I noticed there is much talk of discipleship requiring us to take up our crosses and to take up this mantle of self-sacrificing servanthood. In reflecting on this most recently, it has occurred to me that this seems to presuppose a lack of suffering before taking up the cross. If the call to discipleship means taking this up, we must not have already been carrying it. However, Jesus does not say these things to the people out of whom he casts out demons or to the sick that he heals. He tells them to proclaim what God has done for them, or to go their way and sin no more, etc. He speaks it while teaching, he speaks it to the rich, he speaks it to those who ask about it, but the healing is a different matter. Is that because these people already carry crosses, have already been crucified by their infirmities? They have already been sacrificed on the altar of social and religious norms and paradigms, broken by the weight of these burdens. Is there a message in this for today? Should we consider that some are already so broken by life that preaching a call for discipleship like this is not good news, but infirmity upon infirmity? They need to be healed first, and discipleship can follow.

Jesus is Stalking You

This is my article published in the Feb. 16, 2011 edition of Luther Seminary's Concord (Vol. 40, Issue 5).

Moral deliberation is something we do all the time, whether we realize it or not, so I was glad to see that as the topic for this year’s Mid-Winter Convocation. I was also glad to hear, in several different lectures, the speakers say the Bible does not function primarily as our Christian moral compass. I think it a disservice to the Bible to simplify its purpose like that. As Willimon pointed out, we proclaim Jesus the Christ before we proclaim moral and ethical declaration, and the purpose of preaching is to put Jesus among the people. It is God’s work above ours, so we do our part by getting Jesus out there, and then let him take over and finish the job.

It is the age old question of why we preach, and what ministry is for. Are we raising up good citizens, or children of God? Not that we cannot or should not be both, but sometimes we get the order reversed. As good Lutherans we know that works do not save us, and through Christ we are God’s before we are good.

Not that moral and ethical deliberation should be laid aside: we still believe we Christians are morally and ethically bound, and the Bible can inform that. The many workshops dealt with those sorts of issues, and how we work with one another when we do not agree on moral and ethical interpretations of Biblical passages. I think we are all too human to ever come to agreements about everything, but as Willimon reminded us, God specializes in taking the wrong people and making saints out of them. “It is a miracle, people, please don’t give up!” We are all still dependent on a gracious God to receive the sinner, no matter how good we are (or think we are).

So we come to seminary so we can learn more about moral and ethical deliberation and how many ways we are not as good at it as we might like to think. We have all heard some kind of call, though, and committed two or more years of our lives to this work. Willimon mentioned Matthew 28:18-20, popularly known as the Great Commission. In verse 20, Jesus reminds us, “remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age,” or, as Willimon translates it: “I will stalk you forever.” Willimon said, “to be a preacher means being stalked by the living Christ.” It is only fair to extend that to those of us who will not preach in a pulpit in front of a congregation but will proclaim the Word in other ways in our various callings (though I suspect most of us will formally preach at least once). It was not promised to always be easy, but go forth, dear community members, and do not fear. You are not alone, Jesus is stalking you.