Reverent Chronicles

Behold Your King: Not Absent, But Enthroned

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 14:46:42 +0000

Text: Acts 1:1-11

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

It is important to know that Jesus' ascension is not about Jesus going away. That is often how we think of it, though. Jesus was born in Bethlehem. He suffered under Pontius Pilate. He was crucified, died, and was buried. On the third day, He rose again from the dead. Then, after appearing to His disciples for forty days, He is taken up into heaven:

“Bye-bye, Jesus – we will see you later, I guess.”

That is to say, we can easily think that the ascension is Jesus leaving the world and the church behind – we can view the Ascension like a newly retired person taking off to Arizona,

“I’m done; I’m retired. Off to the Arizona heat to drink an ice-T.”

But dear friends, that is not what the Ascension is about. The ascension is not Christ’s absence. It is Christ’s enthronement.

Listen up, the Ascension is not about Jesus retiring from His work but about Jesus taking His seat of authority. It is not the Church being left behind as an orphan; it is the coronation of her King.

C. F. W. Walther once called the ascension “the coronation of our King of grace.” And that is exactly right. Jesus ascends as the Redeemer of sinners, the Head of the Church, the Lord of heaven and earth, and the conqueror of sin, death, and the devil.

Think of the Ascension this way: we should picture a king taking his throne. The battle has been fought. The enemy has been defeated. The gates of the city are opened wide. The trumpets sound. The people shout. The victorious king enters, not in weakness, not in uncertainty, not hoping that perhaps the kingdom will survive, but in triumph. The king then walks to the throne. He turns. He sits. And when the king sits, everyone knows what it means. The throne is not empty. The kingdom is not without a leader. The enemies have not won. Authority has been established.

Dear friends, this is the ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ. The crucified and risen Jesus goes to the right hand of the Father and sits down. And we must not pass too quickly over those words of Jesus sitting down. You see, Jesus does not sit because He is tired. He does not sit because He has stopped caring for His Church. When He sits, He is not grabbing a beer and turning on the game while saying,

“I’m exhausted; this Savior job is wearing me out.”

No, He sits because His saving work has been completed. He sits because the sacrifice has been offered once for all. He sits because sin has been atoned, the Law has been fulfilled, death has been conquered, hell has been broken, and the devil has been judged.

Baptized Saints, consider this for a moment: the One who stood silent before Pilate now sits in judgment over Pilate. The One who was crowned with thorns now wears the crown of glory. The One who was lifted up on the cross is now lifted above the cosmos. The One who was mocked as King of the Jews is now revealed to be King of kings and Lord of lords. This is what we confess in the Creed when we say that He

“Ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.”

Now, speaking of sitting at the right hand of God the Father, we should also note that the right hand of God is not a small chair somewhere far away in outer space. We must not imagine Jesus traveling beyond the clouds, past the moon, past the sun, past the stars, until He finally arrived at some distant heavenly location where He now remains far away from His church. No, the right hand of God is the place of divine power, majesty, glory, authority, and rule. To sit at the right hand of the Father is to reign with the Father. Listen up! To be at the right hand of the Father means that all things are placed under Christ’s feet. Angels and demons, kings and nations, life and death, heaven and earth, the Church and all her enemies, your body and soul, your past and future, your sins and sorrows, all of it is beneath Christ who sits at the right hand of the Father.

Also, get this: Psalm 110 says,

“The Lord says to my Lord: Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool.”

Did you hear that: a footstool? Don’t let that escape your attention either! A footstool is what becomes of Christ’s enemies. Sin raged against Christ. The Law accused Christ. Death swallowed Christ. The devil struck Christ. The grave held Christ. But only for a little while. On the third day Christ rose. Forty days later, Christ ascended. And now sin, death, devil, hell, and every accusation must bow beneath His pierced feet. They are but a mere footstool.

Baptized Saints, we observe and celebrate the ascension not merely because it is a pious doctrine to admire from a distance. Instead, it is a reality that grants us comfort.

You see, in this life, your conscience will trouble you. Your sins will still accuse you. And death – it will still frighten you too. Death enters hospital rooms. It stands beside the grave. Death appears in weakness, old age, sickness, and sorrow. It takes those we love. It reminds us that we are dust and to dust we shall return. But mark this right now – your sins are not seated at the right hand of the Father. And death? It is not seated at the right hand of the Father. Jesus is. And your Jesus – He is your advocate. He is your king, with sin and death placed beneath His pierced feet.

This is why the Ascension is so important for you and Christ’s Church – Jesus has not left His congregation behind. He has not become an absentee King. He has not gone off to reign from a distance away from you. He is with His Church as God and man. He is with His Church as Savior, Lord, Shepherd, Head, and Master. He rules His church.

Now, very briefly, when we say that He rules His church, we must understand that He rules you for your good. When He corrects you, He does so to save you. When He humbles you, He does so to lift you up. When He kills the old Adam in you, He does so that the new man may arise and live before God in righteousness and purity forever. And so, His authority is not against your salvation. His authority is your salvation, because the One who rules you is the One who died and rose.

So, Baptized Saints, lift up your hearts today: Christ has ascended. He has not abandoned you. He has not forgotten His Church. He has not left His throne empty. Your sins do not reign. Your fears do not reign. Your enemies do not reign. Your death does not reign. Jesus Christ reigns. He reigns above the cosmos. He reigns over angels and authorities. He reigns over history. He reigns over His Church. He reigns over your life. And He reigns for you.

Because He reigns, His Gospel still goes forth. Because He reigns, Baptism still saves. Because He reigns, sins are still forgiven. Because He reigns, His Supper still feeds His people. Because He reigns, the gates of hell shall not prevail against His Church. Because He reigns, no one can snatch you from His hand.

Behold your King: not dead, but living; not defeated, but victorious; not absent, but present; not powerless, but enthroned; not merely spirit, but true God and true man, the risen and ascended Lord Jesus Christ. He has ascended on high. He has taken His seat. He reigns at the right hand of the Father. And He reigns for you.

Amen.

This sermon is indebted to CFW Walther’s Sermon: The Ascension of Jesus Christ, a Sure Foundation of Our Faith

Doers of the Word: Not Spiritual Auditors With Clipboards

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 27 May 2026 19:12:31 +0000

Text: James 1:22-27

In the name of Jesus: Amen.

Dear friends, there's a certain kind of Christian who loves our Epistle reading from James for all the wrong reasons. When they hear James say, “Be doers of the word, and not only hearers,” well… they become excited. When they hear, “Be doers of the word, and not only hearers,” they become excited because they think to themselves,

“Finally, here is a verse that calls out other Christians who are just not measuring up. It is about time those second-class lazy Christians hear God’s Word and learn to try harder!”

And so then, using the verses from the Epistle of James, the excited Christian immediately reaches for a clipboard. They sharpen their pencils, adjust their glasses, and begin looking down the pews and examining the church roster. They even begin to consider their Christian neighbors across the street and family members, with the intent of handing out spiritual grades. They say to themselves,

“Hmm, I don’t think Johnny has been doing enough in the church.”

“Check: I haven’t seen enough volunteering from my neighbor Pam lately.”

“And Tom… let’s mark him down. I'm pretty sure he doesn't pray enough.”

“And young, Susie; infraction for her! Everyone knows that she doesn't dress nice enough.”

“The Jones family, for goodness ' sake, their children are never quiet enough in church.”

“And Tammy, definitely her! She just laughs too much. She never takes anything too seriously.”

And so, after a bunch of scribbling on the clipboard, the Epistle reading from James has become a spiritual auditing tool, where the excited Christian has inspected their neighbor and given out spiritual grades based on their own expectations of what it means to be a doer of the word.

Dear friends, please listen very carefully. The reading from the Epistle of James is not handing you a clipboard. No, James is not handing you a clipboard. Instead, James is holding up a mirror.

Consider what James said to us just a moment ago. He tells us that a person who hears the Word and does not do it is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror, then walks away and forgets what he looks like. You see, right there we hear that the mirror is not first for your neighbor's face, it is for yours.

Let me be very blunt. James does not tell you to look into the mirror of your own word and then go around identifying everyone else's blemishes. James does not tell you to look into the mirror of your own word and then become the Church’s spiritual fruit inspector. James does not tell you to contemplate your own word, then grab a clipboard to go around and determine who is a real Christian and who is not. No, James is saying that you should hear God’s Word for yourself, then, looking into the mirror of God’s Word, consider it for yourself.

Let me be very clear this morning, our reading from James gets abused in the American Church. It gets used by clipboard Christians as a weapon against other people rather than being a weapon used against our own sinful nature. That is to say, we need to put down the clipboard and understand that James is speaking to you and me right now. The reading from James is not criteria for a clipboard but a mirror for all of us today.

So, considering this, if the Epistle reading from James is for you and me, what does James mean that we are to be doers of the Word, and not merely hearers?

Dear friends, being a doer of the Word does not mean to be a better performer of good works so that God will accept you. No, that is not Christianity. That is paganism with Bible verses.

Furthermore, to be a doer of the Word does not mean that we uphold manmade expectations for salvation. No, that is legalism with a clipboard.

Instead, to be a doer of the Word means that the Word of God does its work upon you.

Let me give you an example: when the 10 Commandments tell you what you should and should not do towards God and your neighbor, being a doer of the Word means you do not dodge, excuse, or minimize these Commandments of God. In fact, when the 10 commandments expose to us that we are sinners in thought, word, and deed, we do not blame, shift, or deny this reality. Instead, as a doer of the Word, we say,

“Amen. God is right. I am a sinner.”

Furthermore, when the Gospel says, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,” the doer of the Word does not say,

“That sounds too easy.”

Or,

“I wonder if Jesus is enough; maybe I should try to add my own works to Jesus.”

No! A doer of the Word says,

“Amen. Christ is for me. His blood is for me. His forgiveness is for me. I am redeemed – I am forgiven. I am His, and He is mine because that is what the Word says!”

You see, it's quite simple. To be a doer of the Word means that when the Word of God says that you are a Sinner according to the Law, you agree that you are a Sinner according to the Law.

When the Word of God says that you are forgiven because of the Gospel, a doer of the Word believes it to be so.

Furthermore, when the Word of God says you are marked secure in Holy Baptism, the doer of the Word clings to Baptism.

When the Word of God says take, eat, drink, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins, the doer of the Word cherishes and receives Christ’s body and blood in faith.

When the Word of God says to love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and strength, the doer of the Word loves God with all their heart, mind, and strength.

When the Word of God says to love your neighbor as yourself, the doer of the Word loves their neighbor with sacrificial love.

Right about now, you may be thinking to yourself,

“But Pastor Richard, I don't do these things perfectly.”

No, you don't, and neither do I.

Listen up; this is very important.

The doer of the Word is not a person who says,

“Look at me, I'm a doer of the Word. I've mastered the Christian life.”

The doer of the Word is not a person with their clipboard saying,

“It sure looks like I have mastered all the good works that I must do in my life. I must be a true Christian, for I'm certainly doing more good works than everybody else around me.”

No, the doer of the Word is a person who looks honestly into the Word of God, the 10 commandments, and says,

“Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

The doer of the Word is the person who says,

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. I have no righteousness of my own. I need Your righteousness. I need Your forgiveness. I need Your body and blood. I need Your Word. I need Your mercy.”

Baptized Saints, you are not a doer of the Word by looking busy, sounding pious, appearing serious, or meeting someone else's checklist. To be a doer of the Word does not mean that you are trying to appease a spiritual auditor in the church or the religious community. To be a doer of the Word is not upholding somebody else’s expectations. But a doer of the Word looks at God’s Word – His Ten Commandments and says,

“Lord God, Your commands are holy and good. Create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit within me. Grant in me holy impulses that I may serve my neighbor with love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness through these holy commands.”

To be a doer of the Word is simply to hear the Word of God – the Gospel - and say,

“Lord God, strengthen me in your Word, that day by day I may be fortified by the Gospel to hold fast and fight the good fight against all the temptations of the Devil, the old Adam, and the world.”

Baptized Saints, the church does not need you to be a spiritual auditor with a clipboard in your hand. The church does not need more self-appointed fruit inspectors examining the works of Christians to see if they're measuring up according to their own human standards. The church does not need more sinners pretending to be holy, pharisaical judges. The church needs Christ. And dear friends, Christ is exactly who you have. He is your Savior. He is your righteousness. He is your forgiveness. He is your life. He is the surety of your salvation. He is the Word made flesh for you, so that you might not be just a hearer of the Word but also a doer of the Word, as the Holy Spirit grants you repentance and faith - day by day – through the Word and Sacraments.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The Office Serves; The Word Gives Life

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Sat, 16 May 2026 23:47:36 +0000

Text: Ezekiel 37:1-14

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Ezekiel must have been a really great preacher to get all those dead bones to come back to life. I mean, just think about that for a moment. Here is the prophet Ezekiel standing in the middle of a valley absolutely littered with dry bones — skulls, ribs, leg bones, and jawbones scattered over the ground—and somehow, by the end of the text, those same bones are standing – alive - as a mighty army. And so, we might be tempted to conclude that Ezekiel must have had tremendous preaching skills. Perhaps he had one of those commanding voices. Maybe he knew exactly how to use the perfect inflection and timing in his preaching. Perhaps he had great persuasive ability, the kind of preacher who knew how to say things in just the right way. Maybe he had remarkable charisma, such that even the dead could not resist listening to him.

But dear friends, when we slow down and examine the Old Testament reading, we quickly realize that this cannot possibly be the point. You see, the point is not that Ezekiel was an extremely gifted preacher. The point is not that he had profound rhetorical skills. The point is not that Ezekiel somehow persuaded the bones to come together. Rather, the point is what the Lord commanded Ezekiel to say:

“Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the Word of the Lord.”

There it is! Did you hear it?. That is the hinge of the entire vision.

In other words, this vision has far less to do with Ezekiel himself and far more to do with the Word that is being spoken through Ezekiel.

Let me explain!

The issue is not primarily how Ezekiel spoke, but rather what Ezekiel spoke.

So what did Ezekiel speak? He spoke the Word of the Lord.

Dear friends, this is what is essential to understand. It is the Lord’s Word that creates life where there is death. It is the Lord’s Word that gathers what has been scattered. It is the Lord’s Word that gives flesh, breath, and life. Ezekiel is simply the mouth through which the Word is spoken.

* * *

All of a sudden, this becomes extremely practical.

You may not realize it, but our liturgy does a huge service to us—perhaps even more than we often appreciate. You see, the liturgy does two things at once. First, it delivers to us the Word of God. It delivers it in spoken, sung, and read forms. The liturgy is absolutely drenched in the Word of God. Secondly — and this is so very important — the liturgy continually ascribes the Word not to the pastor but to the Lord Himself.

Permit me to explain.

For fun, let us start at the beginning of the Divine Service. Imagine that the pastor stands, makes the sign of the cross, and says,

“In the name of Matthew, Reed, Richard. Amen.”

Then, after the confession of sins, imagine if the pastor were to stand up and say,

“In the stead and by the command of Carlyle Roth, I forgive you all your sins.”

Or imagine that after the Old Testament reading he were to say,

“This is the Word of Rev. Richard,”

And the congregation responded,

“Thanks be to Rev. Richard.”

Then imagine the Gospel reading ending with,

“This is the Gospel of Pastor Roth,”

And everyone responds,

“Praise be to you, O Roth.”

Dear friends, do you hear how utterly ridiculous this sounds? It sounds absurd, and rightly so.

And yet, this silly illustration teaches us something profoundly important. The liturgy continually directs our ears and hearts away from the man in the cloth and toward the Lord. We say, “This is the Word of the Lord!” We do not say that it is the word of the preacher or the word of a personality.

Baptized Saints, the Word belongs to the Lord, not the man in the cloth.

This is exactly what we see in our Old Testament reading. Ezekiel does not prophesy his own thoughts, his own opinions, or his own wisdom. He says,

“O dry bones, hear the Word of the Lord.”

He says,

“Thus says the Lord God.”

The content is not Ezekiel’s. The power is not Ezekiel’s. It belongs entirely to the Lord. The prophet is merely a faithful servant; he is the instrument and the mouthpiece.

The same is true with a pastor! When it comes to the office of preaching in the church, it is not necessarily the man who wears the clergy tab that matters. Rather, what matters is what the man is speaking.

Is the pastor preaching the Word of God?

Is he proclaiming Christ crucified and risen for the forgiveness of sins?

Is he delivering Law and Gospel?

Is he preaching repentance and faith?

That is what matters. Because when it comes down to it, the man himself is rather irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

Do not forget, pastors come and go. Pastors are but mere breaths. They are grass that withers and fades. They retire, move, receive calls elsewhere, and eventually die. But the Word of the Lord that proceeds out of the mouth of the preacher—that is what endures forever.

Baptized Saints, it is important for us to remember this at St. Paul’s, especially over the upcoming years, as pastors come and go. Now, please know that it is perfectly fine and even good to have affection and endearment toward a pastor. After all, the pastor often meets you at the deepest and most troubled moments of life. He stands beside the hospital bed. He buries your loved ones. He baptizes your children. He preaches Christ into your ears when your heart is troubled. He places the body and blood of Christ into your mouth. And so, it is natural to have affection for the one through whom the Lord has sent to serve you. But the fact remains: what is ultimately important is not the pastor's rhetoric, capabilities, or personality, but what the pastor preaches.

Think of it this way. If I were to happen to go fishing with Pastor Roth and, for some odd reason, we never came back, you as a church would certainly lament. You would grieve. But you would be okay. The reason is that the Lord God would send you a couple more pastors to preach and teach the very same Word. And so, St. Paul’s would not miss a beat because the church does not rest upon the personalities of the pastors. The church does not rest on the word of the man in the office, but upon the Word preached by the man in the office.

And now we come to the heart of why this matters so much.

Dear Baptized Saints, the Word of God is the power of God. The Word is not mere information. It is not spiritual commentary. It is not simply religious advice. The Word is the very power of God unto salvation. The same Word that created the heavens and the earth is the very same Word that creates faith in your heart. The Word that calmed the stormy waters is the same Word that calms the troubled conscience. The Word that cast out demons is the same Word that drives away Satan’s accusations. The Word that raised the dead bones in Ezekiel’s valley is the same Word that raises us from spiritual death into life.

This is why the content of preaching is so important. The pastor is not in a church to entertain or be a spiritual buddy. He is not there to motivate. He is not there to impress with fancy talk. He is there to speak the Word of the Lord, because the Word is the dynamite of God. The Word breaks apart unbelief. The Word tears down pride. The Word destroys despair. The Word opens graves. The Word creates life.

Dear Baptized Saints, you are those dry bones. Apart from Christ, you are dead in trespasses and sins. Dead in pride. Dead in fear. Dead in bitterness. Dead in lust. Dead in self-righteousness. Dead in despair. But then the Lord speaks. He speaks through His Word read, preached, and sacramentally given to you by your pastors.

Listen up! When the pastor stands before you and says, “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” the Word is not weak. It is not symbolic. It is not sentimental. It is the power of God. It does what it says. It grants forgiveness. It grants peace. It grants life.

Sit up in your pew and hear this: when the Gospel is proclaimed, Christ Himself is speaking. When the sermon faithfully delivers Christ crucified, that Word is the dynamite of God that creates and sustains faith in you.

So, Baptized Saints, do not fix your eyes on the man in the cloth. Do not anchor your faith to a pastoral personality. Do not rest your hope on a preacher’s charisma, style, or friendliness. Instead, hear the Word of the Lord, for the Word of the Lord is life. The Word of the Lord is your forgiveness. The Word of the Lord endures forever – for you.

In the name of Jesus and His Word. Amen.

The Posture Of Worship: Beggars Before Christ

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Mon, 11 May 2026 14:34:00 +0000

Text: Matthew 15:21-28

In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Our culture has a slang word that is used quite a bit for what people describe as toxic or entitled women. That term is “Karen.” Maybe you have heard that term before. That is to say; the name “Karen” has become a culturally loaded stereotype. It is often used as a slang word on social media for a woman who demands entitlement and erupts in outrage when she is not accommodated according to her expectations. Indeed, the word is used to describe the kind of woman who belittles a fast-food cashier when her order is wrong and then posts complaints on social media to publicly shame the restaurant. It is used for the woman who yells at store managers for not getting enough flavoring in her double-shot caramel macchiato and then threatens to file corporate complaints. It describes someone who believes the world exists to satisfy her preferences and who reacts harshly when the world fails to do so.

Now, why mention this term, “Karen?” I mention it because the Canaanite woman in our reading from the Gospel of Matthew was not acting like a Karen.

At first glance, you might think she is acting like a Karen. After all, she was crying out toward Jesus. She was persistent. She was loud enough that the disciples were clearly uncomfortable. They wanted her gone. And so, from a distance, someone might be tempted to think she was acting like one of those entitled, demanding individuals who insist on being heard at all costs.

But dear friends, we cannot label her with that modern slang word. The Canaanite woman is nothing like that modern-day stereotype.

To understand why the Canaanite woman is not like that modern-day stereotype, we must consider two important points.

First, what is she crying out for? What is the content of her plea? Was the Canaanite woman demanding extra flavoring in her caramel macchiato? Was she upset because she ordered grilled chicken and received fried chicken? Was she frustrated by a minor inconvenience? No. The Canaanite woman was crying out for mercy. She was crying out for pity. She was crying out because she was in a miserable and terrible place: her daughter was severely oppressed by a demon. This was not a minor irritation. This was not a bruised ego. This was not wounded pride. This was spiritual torment in her own home. This was evil attacking her child.

Now, keep in mind that the woman was indeed emotional. Of course, she was emotional. Any mother whose child is suffering would be emotional. But notice what she does not do. She does not insult the disciples. She does not threaten to go to upper management. She does not escalate by demanding equality or asserting social rights. She does not claim status. She does not stomp her feet in a temper tantrum. No, she does none of that.

She is not entitled. She is desperate. And there is a big difference between those two.

She is like a mother in an emergency room who refuses to leave until the one doctor who can save her child sees her daughter—not because she believes she deserves special treatment, but because she knows help must come.

Please listen up. Don’t miss this point: the Canaanite woman is one of the clearest examples of what faith looks like. The Canaanite woman is what the Church looks like.

Dear friends, as the Church, we never toss our weight around with the Lord as if He were some kind of clerk who should feel fortunate to have our business. We never approach the Lord God Almighty as if He owes us something. Before God Almighty, we Christians are not loud in arrogance. We are not patronizing. We are not entitled. We are not self-righteous.

How could we be?

Compared to God Almighty, we are not powerful. We are not all-knowing. We are not self-existent. We did not create ourselves. We did not redeem ourselves. Therefore, as Christians, all that we are left with is the cry for mercy:

“Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy on us.”

That cry is not liturgical filler. It is the voice of faith. It is the posture of the Church.

Tragically, we Christians often forget who we are before God Almighty. Yes, we are baptized. Yes, we are redeemed by the holy, precious blood of Christ. Yes, we are declared righteous for His sake. But we are still beggars. Everything we have is given: forgiveness is given, faith is given, the Holy Spirit is given, righteousness is given, daily bread is given, and even the next breath you take is given. Nothing in the Christian life is self-generated. You did not will yourself into salvation. You did not atone for your sin. You did not conquer death. Instead, you simply receive.

That is why Jesus teaches us to pray the way He does.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

“Forgive us our trespasses.”

“Deliver us from evil.”

Those are not the verbs of entitlement; they are the verbs of beggars. And that is precisely what the Canaanite woman is doing. She comes and kneels before Christ, saying,

“Lord, help me.”

Now there is something else quite interesting about the Canaanite woman. When she is crying out for mercy, we are told that she came and knelt before Christ, saying,

“Lord, help me.”

Now, that word “knelt” is significant. Yes, the word, “knelt” is important. You see, it is the same word often translated as “worship.” It is used for the Magi who fell down before the Christ child. It is used for the leper who fell before Jesus seeking cleansing. It is used of the disciples who fell down and worshiped Jesus after He walked on water and stilled the storm.

So what is the point?

The point is that the word ‘knelt’ is also used as a term for “worship.” In other words, in the Bible, worship is not a word that conveys that a person is puffed up, casual, or performative. Even when it is filled with emotion, the word “worship” remains a posture of submission: the body is low, knees are bent, faces are turned downward. The word “knelt” conveys the idea of a creature worshipping humbly before the Creator, a sinner bowing before a Savior, and a child begging before the Father.

Please know that this is not about taking a potshot at different worship styles. The point that is being made is not the style of music but the disposition of worship – the posture of the heart before God. In worship, we kneel and fall down before the Lord.

Baptized Saints, let’s try to be very clear: we must be careful not to reorient worship toward ourselves, assuming that worship is primarily our act of reaching upward or that worship is about how well we feel afterward. Mark this well: a good worship experience is not based on the amount of emotional satisfaction you obtain. It is not about whether the music made your foot tap. It is not about how well the hymns were sung. It is not about whether the sermon entertained you. Christian worship is not about musical preferences, familiarity, or emotional intensity. It is not about self-expression or human performance. Worship has nothing to do with a consumer mentality — the demands, entitlement, and self-centeredness of a Karen mindset.

Instead, worship is tied to the presence of Christ among His people through the preached Word and the Holy Sacraments. Worship is primarily a posture of receiving and kneeling, not of emotional projection. In the Divine Service, Christ serves you. He speaks absolution. He gives His true body and blood for the forgiveness of your sins. He feeds beggars, and beggars worship – they kneel, they bow, and they receive.

Hear the good news about this right now! Christ does not forsake the kneeling and begging Canaanite woman. And He does not forsake your cries for mercy either.

But didn’t Jesus delay in responding to the Canaanite woman?

Correct, Jesus does not immediately answer. He tests her, but He does not reject her.

Baptized Saints, understand this clearly: the Lord rejects hypocrisy, pride, and self-righteousness. He rejects empty ritual divorced from faith. But He does not reject beggars.

“A broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.”

And so, your kneeling does not make God merciful. Your tears do not activate grace. Instead, God is merciful because He is merciful. Your open hands simply receive what He freely gives.

And what does He give? He gives forgiveness, life, and salvation. He gives you Himself. On the cross, the Son of David endured abandonment so that you would never be abandoned. He bore divine silence so that your cries would be heard. He took judgment so that you receive mercy.

The Canaanite woman received crumbs; you receive the feast. You receive the true body and blood of Christ, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. Not because you demanded it. Not because you earned it. But because you are a beggar and Christ is rich in mercy.

So today, like every Lord’s Day, we do what beggars do. We confess our sins. We cry out for mercy. We kneel in reverence and worship. And Christ does not send us away. He absolves. He feeds. He strengthens.

Like the Canaanite woman, we are great sinners, but we have an even greater Savior.

In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Behind the Language Curtain

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 29 Apr 2026 17:54:00 +0000

The following reflections have been prompted by conversations with Rev. Zelwyn Heide.

It goes without saying that Martin Luther preached in German, catechized in German, translated the Scriptures into German, and gave the church hymns, sermons, and theological writings in German. For centuries, German became one of the chief languages of Lutheran theology, devotion, hymnody, and church life.

And so, when many Lutherans came to America, they brought this German theological world with them. This was especially true of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. The early Missouri Synod was German in worship, education, publishing, preaching, and theological formation. German was not merely a cultural preference. It was the language through which the Synod received and preserved much of its Lutheran inheritance.

This began to change in the early twentieth century: German began to decline. For a time, German and English stood side by side. Many congregations used both German and English. Some pastors preached in both. Just ask an older member of an LCMS Church, and you might hear stories of how they lived between both worlds. But with the pressures of Americanization, World War I, and later World War II, German rapidly fell out of use. By the 1960s, the LCMS was largely an English-speaking church body.

So why does this matter? It matters because when the Missouri Synod moved from German to English, it lost easy access to a vast theological inheritance. You see, behind the German language stood an ocean of Lutheran theology: sermons, dogmatics, hymnody, devotionals, pastoral writings, catechetical materials, and church practices. Much of it reached back through Walther, the Lutheran fathers, the Book of Concord, and the Reformation of the 1500s. Perhaps we could say it this way: the books of Luther, Chemnitz, Gerhard, and Walther remained. But for English-speaking Lutherans, much of this inheritance stood behind a language curtain. The Missouri Synod’s history reaches back to the Reformation, the ancient church, and the apostles. But our usable history often begins with what we can read in English. In other words, history for many late 20th-Century LCMS Lutherans did not begin with the 16th-Century Reformation but began in the 1950s - from what was available in English.

At the same time German declined, English-speaking-institutions rose to prominence in the LCMS. The Lutheran Witness, founded in 1882, became an English voice within the Synod in the 1900s. The Lutheran Laymen’s League was organized in 1917. The Lutheran Hour began in 1930. Portals of Prayer first appeared in 1937. The Lutheran Women’s Missionary League was organized in 1942. These institutions and auxiliaries taught the faith, supported missions, provided devotions, shaped identity, and gave the Missouri Synod a common English voice. From the 1930s through the 1960s, and in some cases into the 1970s and 1980s, these English-language institutions exerted enormous influence. At the same time, German was rapidly declining in the Synod. This loss of German was not intentional; it resulted from German-descended Lutherans adapting to an English-speaking nation, often under significant cultural pressure. During the transitional period, many pastors and people were bilingual, so there was little urgency to translate what was still accessible. But by the time German was largely lost, fewer and fewer were able to carry that inheritance forward. As a result, much of the vast theological inheritance reaching back to the Reformation of the 1500s became less accessible to ordinary English-speaking Lutherans. It was concealed behind a language curtain – locked in a treasure chest with no key.

There is another component that must be recognized as well. As previously indicated, the Missouri Synod lived in a cultural and linguistic insulation via the German language. However, as the Synod shifted to English, the Missouri Synod found herself sharing the English language with fellow Methodists and popular revival movements. And so, the English-speaking Missouri Synod began operating within the same ecosystem as the broader American Protestant Church. Simply stated, when LCMS Lutherans stopped speaking German, they did not just change language; they entered a shared religious marketplace of English, where the Lutheran Church was much more susceptible to Methodist and tent revival influences. The LCMS found herself sharing the same words with other religious entities and movements, but words that held different meanings and theologies.

Fast forward to today, and another shift is taking place. Many of these once-dominant LCMS Auxiliaries no longer hold the same central influence they once did in the LCMS. Furthermore, the religious landscape of America has become even further divided. At the same time, something great has occurred: the older Lutheran inheritance, which was locked in German, is becoming more accessible in English than ever before. For example, the 55-volume set of Luther’s Works began appearing in English starting in 1955 and was completed in 1986. The works of Martin Chemnitz have been translated (e.g., Loci Theologici 1989). Johann Gerhard’s writings have become available in English (2000s-present). The Lutheran Confessions have been published in accessible reader editions (2012). A fresh new translation of CFW Walthers’ Law & Gospel Theses was released in 2010. Many older Lutheran works have been translated, republished, digitized, and made available to pastors and laity.

What does this mean, though? This means English-speaking LCMS Lutherans in 2026 have access to theological resources that many English-speaking LCMS Lutherans in the 1960s and 1970s did not have. A layperson can read Luther in English. A pastor can study Martin Chemnitz (one of the authors of the Book of Concord). A student can read Gerhard. A congregation can study the Book of Concord in a readable edition through a Confessions Study. The language curtain is being pulled back.

This recovery matters. Not because German is sacred. But instead, it connects the Lutheran Church of today to the Lutheran Church of the Reformation. Today’s American Lutheran Church has always possessed a theological inheritance that is like a treasure chest, but with no key – that is, until now. Therefore, in some LCMS Congregations, there has been a subtle shift (not necessarily a rejection) away from LCMS Auxiliary organizations, as some women’s groups are choosing to study the Book of Concord rather than the LWML Quarterly. Or some parishioners are choosing to read Luther’s Postil Sermons (Published in 2000) instead of listening to The Lutheran Hour. And some parishioners are reading Sacred Meditations by Johann Gerhard instead of Portals of Prayer. Simply stated, the subtle shift is not toward something new or foreign, but a return to something old and inherited.

In conclusion, for a time, much of this inheritance was hidden behind a language curtain. Now much of it is returning to us in English. What a gift this is: a bridge back to our Lutheran past – a reconnection to a rich theological heritage that still speaks, still teaches, and still blesses the Lutheran Church in the twenty-first century.

When The Devil Hides In Piety?

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Sun, 26 Apr 2026 02:37:00 +0000

Text: Matthew 4:1-11

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The Devil often hides in piety. Yes, you heard that correctly: the devil often hides in religious piety. Take our reading from the Gospel of Matthew as an example. The Devil does not come before Jesus in a red coat and a pitchfork. He does not arrive with fire and blood. Instead, the Devil comes before Jesus in a holy way. Get this: the Devil quotes Psalm 91 to Jesus. Furthermore, the Devil speaks of angels while sounding devout and pious. Indeed, in Matthew chapter 4, the Devil sounds religious, reverent, and pious.

Now, if this makes you a bit uncomfortable this morning — good. You see, hearing that the Devil covers his temptations and deceit with religious devotion and scriptural language should rattle your cage a bit.

Tragically, we Christians often imagine the Devil’s tactics as overt and obvious. We imagine that the Devil’s tactics openly rebel and openly promote evil. And while such rebellion and evil certainly do exist, the Devil’s style is often far more subtle. You see, the Devil knows Scripture. He knows the Bible better than most Christians — and he can quote it. But here is the key: the Devil does not apply Scripture correctly. That’s right; one of the Devil’s primary ways of attacking is the twisting of theology, and he does this subtly.

Consider the temptation of Christ in our Gospel reading again. The devil does not outright deny Jesus. He does not say,

“You are not the Son of God.”

Instead, he provokes doubt. He tempts impatience. He invites Jesus to grasp glory without suffering. He takes words of promise and attempts to weaponize them against Jesus’ trust in the Father. That is the Devil’s strategy. The Devil distorts the Christian faith by slightly twisting Scripture. He bends it, misapplies it, removes it from its proper context, and will even speak truth, but not rightly. And this is why the Devil’s deception is far more dangerous than open godlessness. Indeed, subtle twisted piety is far more dangerous than overt evil that is easy to spot.

It is important to pause here and remember something essential: the Devil is unoriginal. He cannot create. He is a creature. Though the Devil was originally created good, he fell through rebellion. And so, as a fallen and twisted creature, the Devil cannot bring new truth into existence. He cannot create a new moral reality. He cannot invent a new world. He cannot create beauty; he can only corrupt what God has made. Think of the Devil this way: he is like a parasite. He latches onto what God has created and slowly twists, perverts, and inverts that which is good, beautiful, and true. And so, the Devil does not create marriage; he distorts it with sexual perversion. He does not create truth; he twists it with falsehood. He does not create Godly worship; he corrupts it with self-worship. He does not create righteousness; he counterfeits it. That’s right; he steals, mimics, inverts, and counterfeits. Again, the Devil is unoriginal, and this is why his greatest danger is not obvious godlessness but false spirituality – his greatest danger is that he hides in religious piety. He portrays himself as an angel of light, when in reality he is a demon of darkness.

Let me make sure this point isn't missed! The devil is in the details. He hides in piety. He cloaks deception in devotion. He wraps lies in religious language. He disguises rebellion in spiritual sincerity. And that is precisely why this Gospel reading should sober us. Listen up! The greatest threat to the Christian faith is not always outside the Church; it often arises from within the church as the Devil will attack the church from within, with the church’s own piety, doctrine, and practices.

This raises an important question, then:

How do we defend ourselves against such subtle deception?

How do Christians combat devilish religious falsehood that sounds devout and feels spiritual?

Practically speaking, Christians must know the Word of God well enough to recognize when it is being twisted.

Please listen, this is very important!

You cannot recognize that something is crooked if you do not know what straight looks like. In other words, if you do not know sound doctrine, you will not recognize false doctrine. If you don’t know the Bible, you won’t know when it is being misquoted. If you don’t know truth, you won’t recognize a lie. This is why catechesis matters. Yes — catechesis: right teaching from the Word of God.

Dear friends, a church grounded in Scripture becomes wise to the schemes of false doctrine. Parishioners rooted in truth can hear when Scripture is manipulated. When Christians know the Word, recognizing false theology becomes easier to detect. However, without catechesis, though, Christians become vulnerable not to atheism but to the Devil’s counterfeit Christianity — and as we already established, counterfeit Christianity is far more dangerous than atheism.

History proves this. The greatest distortions of the Christian Gospel have not come from pagans or atheists but from those speaking in religious language. Do not be a fool and think that the biggest dangers to the church are in culture. Instead, know that the most destructive errors do not announce themselves as lies; they present themselves as a deeper spirituality, a higher revelation, or an improved Christianity. Mark this: the Devil does not need to convince the Church to abandon religion and piety; he only needs to distort it. And frankly, the Christian Church has bought into the Devil’s lie more often than we would like to admit.

But what happens when we truly know the Word of God? What happens when a church is properly catechized in God’s Word? Look again at the temptation of Christ. Jesus' response is incredibly simple. Each time Jesus is tempted, he answers,

“It is written.”

Yes, Jesus responds to the Devil’s twisted tactics by saying,

“It is written.”

Now, pause there for a moment. Don’t let this point escape you.

Notice what Jesus does not do. He does not debate philosophy with the Devil to win an argument. Jesus does not perform miracles before the Devil as if to validate himself. Jesus does not rely on emotional experience, telling the Devil a personal story. Jesus does not assert personal authority apart from the Word. Instead, Jesus simply stands on Scripture.

“It is written!”

With those words – it is written - the Son of God stands where faith stands — upon the Word. And the Devil is defeated.

Baptized Saints, this is profound. Did you hear how simplistic and powerful this is? The Devil is not overcome by human cleverness. The Devil is not defeated by charisma. He is not conquered by emotional intensity. The Devil is not driven away by moral willpower. He is not overcome by innovation or spiritual creativity. No! Instead, the Devil is defeated by the Word of God rightly understood. Pay attention right now: where the Word of God is clear, the Devil’s tactics are exposed. Where the Word of God is rightly proclaimed, the Devil’s lies unravel. Where the Word of God is trusted, the Devil’s deceptions collapse. The Devil has no power, no advantage, and no upper hand with the Word of God.

Baptized Saints, we fight the Devil and his lies by preaching Christ and Him crucified. We fight the Devil and his deception by faithfully administering Holy Baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We fight the Devil and his false piety by receiving the Lord’s Supper – Jesus’ true body and blood… in, with, and under the bread and the wine. We fight the Devil and his pervasions of truth by confessing our sins boldly and receiving absolution gladly – in the stead and by the command of Jesus Christ, your sins are forgiven. We fight the Devil and his twisting of Scripture by remaining captive to the Word of God, knowing good doctrine, being students of the Word, and not trusting in our own understandings.

Baptized Saints, what we speak of here is not symbolic warfare. The battle with the Devil is real, and our tactics and defense are simple – the Word and Sacraments. The reason why this is the case: the Devil cannot endure the Word and Sacraments when they are rightly administered and faithfully received, because they deliver Christ and His gifts. Hear the victory cry of the church: where Christ is exalted, given, and received, the Devil loses ground, his tactics are exposed, and he is subdued.

Listen carefully: you fight against the Devil when you cling to the Word. You fight against the Devil when you confess your sins before God and before one another. You fight against the Devil when you reconcile sin among each other in the name of Jesus. You fight against the Devil when you trust in Christ’s merit alone. You fight against the Devil when you remain where Christ has promised to be.

Baptized Saints, the Devil is already a defeated foe. Christ has crushed the serpent’s head. The victory has been won. We do not invent new weapons. We do not need new strategies. We stand where Christ stood. We say what Christ said.

“O Devil… It is written. Be gone.”

The Word of God remains for you. It remains for your children. It remains for Christ’s Church. And that Word remains the Devil’s undoing. One little Word crushes the Devil.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

When The Church Starts Talking Like Pagans—Remember, You Are Light

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Sat, 18 Apr 2026 20:49:00 +0000

Text: Ephesians 5:1-9

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

This morning, I feel like I should ask you to stand up, stretch a bit, and maybe even do some jumping jacks. The reason is that the Apostle Paul has some rather strong words for us today. Our reading from the Epistle to the Ephesians is heavy. It is profound. And it demands our attention.

You see, the Apostle Paul is not giving us a light devotional thought or a vague encouragement today. Instead, he is drawing a sharp line. He is speaking in a way that is very clear, very blunt, and very direct.

So, let’s get right to the point that Paul is making:

You Christians do not belong to darkness. You are not pagans. You do not belong to sin, death, or the devil. Instead, you belong to God Almighty. You were bought not with gold or silver but with the holy and precious blood of Jesus Christ and with His innocent suffering and death.

The baptismal liturgy says it best: all your sins, which have been inherited from Adam and which you yourself have committed, are drowned and killed in the waters of your baptism. And so, in baptism, you were separated from the multitude of unbelievers. You were made holy in Christ. You were placed into the safe and secure ark of the Christian Church.

Bluntly stated, the devil does not ride you. When you were baptized, you were snatched out of darkness and made to be slaves of Christ. The devil does not ride you—Christ does. You belong to Christ.

Listen to a portion of our Epistle reading again:

“At one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.”

Notice what Paul says there. He does not say that you once lived in darkness. He says that you were darkness. That was your identity. Apart from Christ, you were not merely influenced by darkness—you were a part of it.

But now something has happened. Christ intervened. Christ claimed you. Christ washed you. Christ marked you with His name and placed you into His Church.

And if this is true—and it certainly is—then we as Christians should not give unnecessary attention, discussion, and energy to things that belong to darkness.

But what exactly does this mean? Let me give you a real-life example.

Several years ago, I was talking with another LCMS pastor here in North Dakota. He had gotten into quite a conflict with four or five prominent families in his congregation.

The issue began rather simply. He told these families that their children and grandchildren would not be able to participate in the Christmas program unless they attended church. He also had the audacity to tell confirmation students that if they did not attend class or church, he would not confirm them. And then he made another decision. He and the Elders worked to remove individuals from church membership who had not attended church in over ten years.

Now, logically speaking, that makes sense, doesn’t it? If someone doesn’t practice for the Christmas program – if someone does not study the Small Catechism – if someone wants nothing to do with the church for over a decade and they won’t return phone calls from the pastor, then it is hard not to conclude that they – perhaps – either don’t like being a Christian or don’t want to be a Christian. And so, logically, not confirming them and removing them from membership is a very rational thing to do.

* * *

Now we must acknowledge that there are situations where people struggle to attend church. There may be unresolved conflict. There may be difficult work schedules. There may be spiritual wounds or grief. These situations must be handled with patience, compassion, understanding, and care.

* * *

But in the case of this pastor, the families he was dealing with were not struggling. They were simply neglecting the Church; they were even a bit hostile to the Word of God.

And so, what happened?

A large conversation erupted throughout the congregation. Members began debating whether the pastor’s policies were too rigid. Soon, people were discussing LCMS membership practices. The conversation shifted to questions like this:

Is going to church required to be a Christian? And if it is required, how often does someone need to attend to be saved?

Then the conversation shifted again.

Is Sunday School necessary, or is the Divine Service enough?

Then it shifted again.

Does watching church on television or the internet count?

Before long, the entire congregation was tangled up in increasingly foolish debates.

I remember sitting with this pastor over coffee as he lamented the situation. At one point, he said something that struck me. He said,

“Am I being unreasonable for expecting Christians to act like Christians? Why am I being attacked for wanting my flock to receive God’s Word and Sacraments? Why is it so bad to simply want Christians to come to God’s house?”

After talking through the situation, we came to a sobering realization. Those four or five families were not acting like Christians. They were not thinking like Christians. They were not speaking like Christians. Frankly stated, they were acting like pagans.

And worse than that, they pulled the entire congregation into pagan arguments and pagan justifications that had no business being in the church to begin with. That is to say; conversations were happening that were completely out of place among Christians.

Eventually, that pastor addressed his congregation directly. He said,

“I am not going to engage in these conversations anymore, and neither should you. These discussions do not belong in the church. Christians love God’s Word. Christians do not despise the church. Christians do not slander Christ’s church.”

From that point forward, he simply refused to engage those 4-5 families in their pagan justifications.

Why?

Because these families and their talking points were completely out of place.

And that is precisely what the Apostle Paul is addressing in our epistle reading from Ephesians.

Paul’s point is clear. There are certain wicked things that should not be entertained in the church. They should not become topics for endless discussion.

Now, let’s be clear about something. The church must teach the truth and confront error. The Apostle Paul himself does this throughout his letters. He exposes false doctrine and warns about sin in Galatians and 1 Corinthians. But what we are talking about here is something different. You see, there are times when giving attention and discussion to certain things actually allows sinful ideas to dominate the conversation. When that happens, darkness begins to feel normal. What should be clearly condemned begins to sound like just another perspective.

Dear friends, this is dangerous because clear sins do not need to be debated. They do not need focus groups. They do not need to be sent to conventions with overtures for votes. They simply need to be rejected. The reason why… some things are not fitting for Christian discussion to begin with. They belong to the kingdom of darkness. They belong to sin and not to Christ.

So, what does this mean?

It means there are certain sins and corrupt ideas that are so contrary to Christianity that entertaining them as legitimate possibilities is foolish.

For example, same-sex marriage is not marriage. It is a myth. For the Christian, it does not exist. There is nothing to debate about same-sex marriage; Scripture clearly condemns it as sin.

Abortion is not compassion. It is the taking of a human life. There is nothing to debate as well.

The same is true for important teachings of the faith.

Scripture is the final authority for doctrine and life. Human reason does not overturn it. Culture does not overturn it. Personal experience does not overturn it. Case closed.

Salvation does not depend on human works, merit, or decision but Christ alone. We do not need a voters’ meeting or synodical overture to settle this.

The pastoral office is not a platform for social experiments – we will not transgender the office of pastor with the ordination of women or justify it in the name of equality – full stop.

The Lord’s Supper and baptism are not symbolic and powerless rituals that are up for deliberation.

In other words, we are not going to take a vote on these things at a voters’ assembly, or discuss them in committees, or debate them on social media, because our consciences are captive to the Word of God.

Baptized Saints, Christians do not dabble with intellectual curiosity about darkness. Our posture toward sin is intentionally closed. Once something is clearly condemned by God, it does not become a matter for endless speculation, conversation, or debate. But instead, you and I repent of the sin boldly; yes, you repent and are returned to where you belong – your baptisms.

And the reason for this is what we heard at the beginning of this sermon.

In holy baptism, you are beloved children of God. You belong to the light. You belong to Christ. You belong to righteousness.

Baptized Saints, you belong to Christ’s kingdom because you once were darkness, but now, in the Lord, you are light. Therefore, live as children of the light, giving darkness and sin no voice, not attention, no inroad, and no refuge.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

When Death Must Serve The Gospel

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 14:22:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Death is the greatest evil. It is the great enemy of mankind. Indeed, it has been said before that death is the mother of all the ills of life. And so, death is not our friend. It is not a natural companion. It is not something to be embraced as though it belongs in God’s good creation. No, death wounds us. It stings us. It terrifies us. It causes us to suffer, to fear, and to tremble. And because of this, we must ask the questions:

Why is there death?

Why is there suffering?

Why do people die?

The Christian answer is very concise:

It is because of sin.

That is right, dear friends, death exists because of sin. You die because you are a sinner—plain and simple. Death is the punishment for the world’s disobedience. Death entered this world through sin, and through sin it spread to all mankind. This is why there is suffering. This is why bodies weaken. This is why bones ache. This is why tears are shed at hospital bedsides and gravesides. Death exists because sin exists.

And so, not only are the devil and sin our enemies, but death is our enemy as well. Death is the final enemy.

But here is something peculiar for you to contemplate this morning: the unbelieving pagan world’s view of death is far different from the Christian’s. You see, much of life in this fallen world is spent trying to keep death at bay. The pagan world labors endlessly to keep death at a distance. It tries to hedge its bets against the grave. It seeks to push death further down the road. It tries to keep death from its doorstep for just a little while longer.

We see this all around us.

As the body begins to ache and the bones start to weaken, the unbelieving world often clutches even tighter to its wallets and purses, as though money and resources might somehow keep death from drawing near. There is this idea that if one can just save enough, if one can just accumulate enough, if one can just have enough resources, then perhaps the blows of old age can be softened and the effects of death somehow deterred.

Others go a different route. They convince themselves that they are perpetually young. We hear it all the time: fifty is the new forty, sixty is the new fifty, and seventy—well, compared to those in their eighties—is still considered young. And so, there is this constant effort to believe that one is still in the prime of life.

Furthermore, consider all the efforts of Botox, plastic surgery, makeup, hair dye, and every sort of cosmetic treatment to cover up the signs of aging. Wrinkles are hidden. Gray hair is covered. The marks of time are concealed. Many do this in the hope of believing that they are still in the prime of life, still thirty and living it up.

And if we look closely, we see this on an even larger scale. The wealthy and powerful spend millions of dollars on transhumanist dreams, medical science, longevity research, and all sorts of technological advancements, trying to gain just another ten years, another five years, another day.

Indeed, dear friends, this is the way of the unbelieving world. This is the way of the pagan. Death is seen as something to be delayed, denied, disguised, and pushed away for as long as possible. The unbelieving world labors endlessly to keep death at a distance, as though it can somehow be outmaneuvered.

But the Christian knows something different. The Christian knows the truth.

The Christian knows that death cannot ultimately be avoided by money, medicine, cosmetics, or technological advancements. The Christian knows that the Lord God is so good that even death must serve the Lord’s redemptive plan. Yes, hear that again, the Christian knows that even death must serve God’s plan of redemption.

Dear friends, while death is our obvious enemy, please hear this loud and clear:

The Lord uses death to serve our best interests.

Straighten up in those pews and open your ears!

We live this life in the vale of tears. From our conception to our death, we trudge through this world of sin, death, and suffering. Yes, there are mountain-top experiences in this life. Yes, there are times of joy; there are glimmers of light. But as a whole, this life is characterized as a battle with sickness, suffering, danger, trouble, and hard work. In the words of the Dread Pirate Roberts,

“Life is pain… Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

To the point, every day that we awake, breathe, and live is another day that we battle against sin, death, and the devil. Now, if you think this is too pessimistic, well… I would challenge you to stop and pinch yourself to see if you are still flesh and blood. And if you are, then you should consider what the Bible says about you in Romans 7 and Galatians 5. Also, I would challenge you to look around and see whether you are still living in this world, and remember that there is no lack of sin and trouble. To the point, I would challenge you to consider whether you recognize and hate your sin as you should.

So, what does this mean then? It means that, according to the Law, death is your enemy. But – pay attention - according to the Gospel, death marks the end of your struggle with sin, suffering, and the pains of this fallen world. Indeed, while death is your enemy, as a Christian and according to the Gospel, you can look at death as the end of all your sinning and suffering.

This is why you, as a Christian, view death differently from the unbelieving pagan world. You see death as the end of the war with your Old Adam. You see death as a departure from this valley of tears unto the peace of Christ.

But mark this, the pagan and unbelieving world will not understand this. They will view us Christians as peculiar, for the pagan and unbelieving world spends the majority of its time running away from death.

So, why is there such a difference between the Christian and the pagan? What’s the catch?

The catch is the empty tomb. Yes, the reason why you – as a Christian – can view death the way that you do is that Christ is risen.

* * *

I can say that, after being a pastor for over 20 years, Christians grieve differently at funerals. It saddens my heart to say this, but unbelievers literally fall apart at the death of a loved one. Now, please know that I am not saying that Christians do not grieve at the loss of a loved one. Christians and pagans both grieve. However, Christians grieve with hope, while pagans grieve with no hope. The pagan’s grief is often unhinged, lost, frantic, and overwhelmed with the terrors and horrors of death. For the pagan, death is total and complete bitterness. It is nothing but a sting. But for the Christian, death still bears its sting according to the flesh, but in Christ, it is no longer ultimate bitterness. Rather, the death of a Christian is the passage from this difficult life into the blessed peace of Christ.

* * *

But again, why do you, as a Christian, have such confidence? It is because on Good Friday, your sin and death hung on Christ’s neck as He suffered in your place. On Good Friday, Christ bore your guilt, carried your shame, and took your condemnation. Yes, on that dark Friday, sin and death clung to Christ as He went to the cross for you.

But today, on Easter morning, sin and death have completely disappeared from the neck of Christ. They are gone.

Baptized Saints, consider the empty tomb – Christ is risen from the dead. And because Christ is risen from the dead, you too will rise from the dead. Because the grave gave Him up, the grave will one day give you up as well.

Indeed, dear friends, Christ has done more than merely survive death. He has conquered it. And because of this, Death no longer gets the final word over you. The grave is no longer your permanent home. The cemetery is not your final destination. The tomb is but a temporary resting place for the baptized.

For on the great Last Day, the same Lord who stepped out of His tomb alive will call you forth from yours. Yes, on that great and glorious day, the graves shall burst open. Your body and soul will be reunited. And you shall stand alive before the Lord—fully alive, whole, restored, glorified, and never to die again.

And so, dear Baptized Saints, take heart this day. Take courage this Easter morning. Death may still sting, but it cannot condemn. Death may still strike, but it cannot keep. Death may still bury, but it cannot hold, for Christ is risen.

Christ has conquered sin. He has conquered the devil. He has conquered your death. And because He lives, you shall live also.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The Seven Deadly Sins

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 08 Apr 2026 13:55:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Dear friends, throughout this Lenten season, we have been considering what the church has historically called the seven deadly sins: pride, envy, wrath, sloth, greed, gluttony, and lust. As we have heard in the previous sermons, these seven deadly sins are not merely outward actions. They are not simply visible behaviors that others can see and measure. Rather, they reveal the corrupt impulses of the sinful heart. This is an important distinction, for the problem with humanity is deeper than behavior. The problem is the heart. The problem is what we call the Old Adam.

And this is where we must connect everything together. These seven deadly sins are not random sins floating around independently. They are the visible fruit of the Old Adam. They are what happens when the sinful nature bends inward to live for self. In other words, these seven sins are what the Old Adam looks like when he speaks, thinks, desires, and acts. For example, pride is the dangerous selfishness that exalts the self above God and neighbor. Wrath is the Old Adam lashing out when the self is threatened. Sloth is the Old Adam despising God’s gifts and refusing to do good works in a vocation. Greed is the Old Adam grasping for more. Gluttony is the Old Adam consuming without restraint. Lust is the Old Adam seeking possession and pleasure apart from God’s will. Envy is the Old Adam grieving the good of the neighbor because the self must be first.

Do you hear the thread, dear friends? Every one of these sins is the sinful nature curving back upon itself. Again, these are not seven isolated moral failures, but seven manifestations of the same diseased root.

Now, to tie all of this together, let’s look at the beginning and root of this sin. That is to say; pride is the beginning of all sin and covetousness is the root of all sin. You heard that correctly, the seven deadly sins spring forth from the Old Adam by means of pride and covetousness.

Let me explain: pride is the beginning of all sin because pride is, at its very core, the breaking of the First Commandment: You shall have no other gods. Now, when many hear that commandment, they think first of carved idols and false religions. But the Large Catechism teaches that whatever your heart clings to and trusts in, that is properly your god. You see, pride says,

“I know better than God.”

Pride says,

“I do not need correction.”

Pride says,

“I do not need forgiveness.”

Pride says,

“I will determine what is good and evil.”

In this way, pride is spiritual rebellion. It is the self, enthroned where only God should reign.

But if pride is the beginning of all sin, then covetousness is the root from which all sin grows. Here we must consider the Ninth and Tenth Commandments: You shall not covet.

Luther understood that these commandments expose the heart’s inward cravings. You see, before the hand steals, the heart covets the possession. Before the mouth slanders, the heart covets to be right. Before wrath erupts, the heart covets vindication. Before lust burns, the heart covets forbidden pleasure. Before envy stirs, the heart covets the blessings of the neighbor.

This means that greed is covetousness directed toward possessions. Lust is covetousness directed toward another body or forbidden pleasure. Envy is covetousness directed toward the blessings of another. Wrath often covets vindication, revenge, and honor. Sloth covets ease and comfort. Gluttony covets excess and indulgence. Even pride itself may be understood as coveting divine authority. Thus, dear friends, the seven deadly sins spring forth from the Old Adam by means of pride and covetousness. Pride enthrones the self, and covetousness feeds the self. Hear that again: pride enthrones the self, and covetousness feeds the self.

This now brings us to the most important pastoral question: what are we to do with this Old Adam who continually produces such fruit? Can the Old Adam be improved? Can the sinful nature be educated, disciplined, or morally rehabilitated?

Dear friends, mark this: whatever we do, we cannot change our sinful Old Adam. The sinful nature is too addicted to sin, too twisted, too dark, and too used to the 7 deadly sins. Therefore, the Old Adam must be put to death.

This is exactly what Saint Paul means when he says,

“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”

Notice what Paul does not say. He does not say that the Old Adam is improved, coached, reformed, redirected, or shamed into behaving rightly. Rather, he says that the flesh is crucified.

In another place Paul says the very same thing:

The Old Adam must be put to death, put away, and stripped off.

I think we are getting a clear picture right about now that there is no hope for this Old Adam and its thoughts, words, and deeds.. In fact, it could be said that this Old Adam is not to be treated with kid gloves, but rather, this Old Adam is to be treated as an enemy combatant. This Old Adam needs to be kicked around— admonished, threatened, punished, and ultimately executed. As it has been said from this pulpit before, too often we Christians give this Old Adam a hall pass. That is to say, we are way too easy on our Old Adam. We excuse pride, rationalize lust, justify greed, tolerate sloth, nurse envy, and indulge gluttony.

So, what does this mean?

Dear friend, it means that we need to realize that our Old Adam will oppose Christ at every opportunity. So, instead of letting the Old Adam have his way, we must confront the sinful nature. Remember, you are a Christian; the Old Adam can never be given asylum with you. The sinful nature is never to be granted a voice of reason, for it is your enemy.

And so, when the stubborn sinful nature exudes one of these 7 deadly sins, well… you kick the Old Adam and drag this sinful nature to church, where you stand shoulder to shoulder with everyone else and confess,

“I, a poor, miserable sinner, confess unto You, O God, all my sins…”

And then the pastor, hearing the confession, makes the sign of the cross, reminding you of your Baptism, while saying,

“In the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins.”

And at that very moment, the Old Adam is executed. The Old Adam is plunged into your Baptism, where he drowns and dies yet again. Indeed, at that moment, through Holy Absolution, your faith is strengthened, and that faith kills the Old Adam again and makes you altogether a different person – you begin to walk by the Spirit.

Now, please listen carefully: remember, when you walk by the Holy Spirit, you do not become increasingly self-sufficient. Indeed, as a Christian, you walk knowing that everything depends solely on Christ and not yourselves. You endure by being led by the Holy Spirit because where the Spirit is present, Christ continually renews and sustains you through this valley of tears.

Baptized Saints, the seven deadly sins are real and dangerous because they are the fruit of the Old Adam. But today, the good news of the Gospel is that the mercy of Christ is greater. Christ has borne your pride, your envy, your wrath, your greed, your lust, your sloth, your gluttony, and every sin to the cross. And because He died and rose again, you belong to Him, and these 7 deadly sins are not mortal sins but forgiven sins.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The Seven Deadly Sins: Lust

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 08 Apr 2026 13:48:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Dear friends, in previous sermons, we have talked about pride, envy, and wrath. Now, in case you did not notice, these three deadly sins are perverted love directed toward other people. In other words, pride, envy, and wrath are what happen when love towards a neighbor is twisted, perverted, and infected with sin. For example, with pride, love is turned inward so that a person exalts himself over others. With envy, love is poisoned so that instead of rejoicing in the blessings of another, the heart resents them. With wrath, love toward the neighbor is corrupted into anger, bitterness, and the desire to strike back. Thus, in all three of these sins, what we see is love toward other people becoming twisted and infected by sin.

As you can remember, though, we discussed sloth. Now, unlike pride, envy, and wrath, sloth is not perverted love towards a person, but rather, sloth is the absence of love altogether. It is the failure to do good and to love others. It is a sin of omission. It is omitting love from others because, frankly, there is no love with sloth. Sloth is the refusal to act when love calls us to act. It is the refusal to serve when service is needed. It is the refusal to help when help is required. Where love should be present, sloth leaves emptiness.

That leaves the last two sermons. As you know, we have heard about greed and gluttony. Now, instead of greed and gluttony being perverted love directed at other people, both greed and gluttony are perverted love directed toward things. For example, greed is the sin of frantically acquiring and accumulating, whereas gluttony is the sin of overindulging.

This morning, we are left with our final deadly sin - lust.

So, what is lust?

When we hear the word ‘lust,’ we immediately think about sexual sins. However, sexual sins are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to lust. You see, lust is not just a sexual sin. Instead, lust is the intense longing - the uncontrolled desire - to get someone or something. That is to say, a person can lust for sex. They can also lust for power. Or, they can lust for money. And so, while greed is the sin of getting and gluttony is the sin of overconsuming, lust is the sin of unhinged desire to get something or someone at all costs. It is the opposite of self-control. It is the opposite of chastity.

Perhaps a better way to think about lust is like this:

Lust is our desire to have something or someone that is contrary to God’s will.

Hear that again:

Lust is our desire to have something or someone that is contrary to God’s holy will.

And so, let me use an example so that we can correctly understand this. Lust is not a man noticing the beauty of a woman. That is to say, it is not lust if a man says,

“Susie is really beautiful today.”

Again, that is not lust. There is nothing sinful in recognizing beauty. Instead, lust is when a man looks at a woman with lustful intent, thinking to himself,

“I wish I could crawl into bed with Susie, even though she is a married woman.”

You see, lust desires to possess another person sexually outside the bounds that God has put on marriage.

And so, we can simply say that lust is the internal sin of desire. It is wanting to consume and wanting to take what God has clearly forbidden. Lust is disordered cravings. It is desire broken loose from God’s order. It is desire that seeks self-satisfaction regardless of what God says.

Dear friends, a caution is needed at this time. It is important to remember that desire is not necessarily sinful. To desire to be with one’s wife is good, right, and salutary. To desire to receive the Word and Sacraments is also good, right, and salutary. Even the desire for food is fine; after all, we need to eat to live. But again, sin takes desire and detaches it from the love of God and the love of neighbor.

And so, lust can be seen in a person’s lust for power. It can be seen in a person’s lust for control or domination over others. A person can crave authority not to serve but to rule over others for selfish gain. Likewise, lust can happen over wealth or possessions. A person can lust for money, luxury, and success. The heart begins to crave what riches promise: comfort, security, admiration, and status.Lust can also happen with sex and pleasure—living for the thrills, lusting for another drink, lusting for endless entertainment, lusting for sex, and so forth. As already stated, lust can be sexual, but it can just as easily be tied to things like money, influence, admiration, revenge, or control.

Tragically, what we are hearing is that lust ultimately us curves us inward on ourselves:

“What do I want, and how can I possess it now?”

Lust makes the heart that says,

“My wants come first. My cravings matter most.”

Dear friends, are you hearing how dangerous this lust is? Are you hearing how lust enthrones the self and makes desire into an idol?

This is why we need God’s Holy Law. We need the Law to expose our sin of lust. Our lust for power, control, admiration, pleasure, revenge, and possessions outside God’s Holy Will needs to be revealed. It needs to be crucified.

* * *

Baptized Saints, we also need God’s Holy Gospel. We need to hear boldly today that Jesus forgives us of our lust.

Yes, hear that clearly: Jesus forgives us of our lust.

Please listen. Straighten up in the pew! Where our desires have strayed outside of the Father’s will, Jesus’ desires never once strayed outside of the Father’s will. His desire was always perfectly aligned with the holy will of His Father. He was never curved inward upon Himself. Rather, He was perfectly turned outward for you and for me.

And what was His desire?

His desire was His sheep.

His desire was to seek and save the lost.

His desire was to bleed and die for you and me.

Where we are so often consumed with what we want, Christ was consumed with mercy for sinners. His desire was to go to the cross for you. His desire was to take your sin upon Himself. His desire was to bear your lust, your self-centered cravings, your disordered desires, and all your uncleanness in His own body upon the tree.

And there He bled for it.

There He died for it.

There He atoned for it.

Dear Baptized Saints, Jesus forgives even this sin. His blood covers lust. His righteousness covers our impurity. His holiness covers our corruption.

The One whose desires never strayed from the Father’s will gave Himself over to death for those whose desires so often do. And so, in Christ there is forgiveness—full forgiveness, complete forgiveness, free forgiveness for you.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The Means & The Price

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Sat, 04 Apr 2026 21:34:00 +0000

Text: John 19:1-42

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

In America, we tend to live our lives, work our jobs, and even approach spirituality in the least costly way possible. Truth be told, the ideology of the world has a way of pressing in on all of us so that we have become accustomed to comfort. That is to say, in America, we are used to ease. And so, when hardship, suffering, or sacrifice confronts us, we naturally shrink back from it. Indeed, we want things without a price. We want comfort without sacrifice, blessing without burden, and spirituality without religion. We are comfortable when things remain vague and abstract.

Now, why mention this?

I mention this because when it comes to Christianity, we have become comfortable speaking about God in easy, noncommittal, vague, and general terms. We like empty phrases such as,

“God loves you.”

We like prayers without substance:

“I am sending you positive thoughts in my prayers.”

Indeed, we like abstract and vague Christian art decorated with butterflies, flowers, and clouds, with snippets of Bible verses lifted out of context.

We even like songs built upon the endless repetition of vague and sentimental phrases — lines repeated again and again. Songs that stir our emotions while saying very little.

To the point, we are all tempted to keep Christianity light, easy, abstract, vague, and without any cost. Perhaps this is why so many Americans say that they are spiritual but not religious.

Now, let me be very blunt: while it might be tempting to be sympathetic to the sentiment of ‘spiritual but not religious,’ we must be honest: when a person says that they are ‘spiritual but not religious,’ what they are upholding is a vague and abstract version of Christianity. Whether they realize it or not, they are advocating for a cost-free spirituality.

But this begs a question: what does this have to do with Good Friday?

Dear friends, it has everything to do with Good Friday. You see, the ideology of the world wants Christianity - without doctrine. It wants comfort - without confession. It wants blessings - without burden. And it wants eternal life, without a cost. The way of the world wants a God without the offense of a dead Savior hanging upon a cross.

And so, tonight, it could be said that Good Friday confronts us with the very thing that the world’s ideology would rather avoid: a bloody, scandalous, and costly death of Jesus Christ for sinners.

* * *

Some 500 years ago, Martin Luther talked extensively about this. He said that the Muslims and the Jews believe in God, but they do so without the means and the price. Let me repeat that, he said that the Muslims and the Jews believe in God, but they do so without the means and the price.

Let’s take a moment and unpack this.

It means that we do not have a God without means. We do not have a God without a price. In other words, a god without the means of the cross and a god without the costly shed blood of Christ is not the God of Christianity but a false god.

Hear this loud and clear tonight:

God without the means of a Savior for humanity is a false god.

God without the costly blood of Christ on the cross is a false god.

No Savior and no costly shed blood means that there is no true God.

To the point; if your spirituality has no Christ and no cross — no means and no price — you have nothing. You are spiritual but dead.

But listen up – tonight, we hear that there is a means, that there is a price. Thanks be to God, Christianity does not leave us with a vague god, an empty sentiment, or a spirituality without substance. No, it gives us Christ — the One sent into our misery and the One who pays the full price for our redemption.

An old professor used to say to us young seminarians,

“Gentlemen, God did not love the world that he felt a fuzzy. No, for God so loved the world that He gave His only Son – Christ Jesus.”

You see, Christianity teaches that Jesus was sent into our misery, our hell, and our death that Christmas Day long ago. His birth was not some divine birthday gift from heaven given merely to make us feel special. Tah dah! No, He was born for this very purpose: to bear our sin, to carry our curse, and to go all the way to the cross. The manger was always pointing to Golgotha. The wood of the manger was always leading to the wood of the cross.

And so, the means of our salvation is Christ, who was sent into this world of sin, death, and the devil.

But what about the cost? What about the price?

I have said it before from this pulpit that we have a problem in America with people wanting the empty tomb without having the bloody cross. I have lamented ad nauseam that we don’t want the darkness of Lent but want the glory of the empty tomb. We don’t want Good Friday, but we want Easter Sunday. But dear friends, without Good Friday – without the price of Christ’s blood - Easter Sunday makes no sense.

Mark this: there must be a price paid.

Faith in God alone without a price is not sufficient, for this is what the Muslims and Jews do, and they are outside salvation.

Dear friends, there must be faith in the price paid. We must gaze deeply into what happened on Good Friday.

Dear friends, tonight the liturgy itself preaches this very truth. The service has been stripped down so that nothing distracts from Christ and Him crucified.

You may have noticed that things are quite different for this Good Friday Service – compared to our other services.

- There is no opening hymn

- The Gloria Patri is omitted

- Candles are extinguished

- Lights are dimmed

- The Gradual and Verse are removed

- Black paraments are in place

- There is no offering music

- Singing is kept to a minimum with sober songs

- No alleluias are spoken or sung

- No Creed

- And the crosses have been covered – perhaps next year we should cover the Jesus statue as well

Everything is taken away, except for one thing that has been given back to you this evening. One cross has been unveiled. It has been unveiled to direct your attention to nowhere else but Christ and Him crucified.

Now, please keep in mind that all of this is done not because we are having a funeral for Jesus. We are also not necessarily doing this to mourn the death of Jesus, but this is done so that tonight we can mourn and contemplate our sin with great humility and reverence. Indeed, all of the liturgy is meant to push everything to the side, so that you and I would be left with nothing else but the reality of our sins and the price paid for them.

Baptized Saints – Christ was crucified for you, and you were bought with a price.

The price you were bought at was the shed blood of Christ - for you. The price you were bought at was the suffering of Christ - for you. The price you were bought at was the death of Christ - for you.

To deny or diminish the price of Christ’s death on the cross is to deny the Gospel, and to deny the Gospel is to deny God the Father Himself. And deny God the Father is to deny everything and worship a false god.

* * *

Baptized Saints, the means of God is Christ sent to you. The price of Christianity is Christ crucified for you.

Baptized Saints, Christ is both the means by which God comes to you and the price by which you are redeemed. Christ is the way, and He is the ransom. Christ is the Lamb, and He is the blood.

And so now, dear Baptized Saints, the sermon returns to where it began. The world gives vagueness, but Good Friday gives certainty. The world avoids costly spirituality, but Good Friday shows the price of Christ’s blood - for you.

Tonight, you do not have vagueness. You have a Savior. You do not have sentiment. You have Christ crucified. You do not have empty, cheap words. You have the cross.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Reverence & The Real Presence

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Fri, 03 Apr 2026 15:47:00 +0000

Text: 1 Corinthians 11:23-32

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The year was 1542. Communion was being served at St. Mary’s Church in Wittenberg. Bread was taken and laid upon the tongues of faithful, pious Christians. And the chalice was served by the pastor into the mouths of Christians kneeling.

It was a typical Sunday Service until a woman taking communion accidentally misstepped and bumped the chalice. She spilled wine on her jacket and onto the bench rail.

Now, in attendance at the church service was Martin Luther and Rev. Bugenhagen. When they saw the spill, they quickly moved to the altar, and together they helped the woman clean her coat, and then – get this - they licked up the spilled wine. Yes, you heard that correctly, they licked up the spilled wine with their mouths.

Furthermore, it was reported that Luther groaned over the spilled wine, with tears in his eyes, saying,

“O, God help!”[1]

Now, why do I share this story?

I share this because I want us to reflect this evening on Martin Luther and Rev. Bugenhagen’s response. Why did they rush to the spill? Why did they help the woman clean her clothing? Why did Luther get teared up? Why did Luther say, “O, God help,” as he literally licked and slurped up the spilled wine on the bench rail?

Did Luther and Bugenhagen do this to help the woman? Yes, absolutely.

Did they do this to help clean up the mess and keep good order in the church service? Yes, absolutely.

But what about Luther’s tears? How do we explain that?

What about Luther’s exclamation, “O, God help!” What do we make of this desperate cry?

What about Luther and Bugenhagen licking wine off the rail? Why did they slurp up the wine with their lips pressed to a dirty rail rather than just wipe it off with their sleeve or dab the wine up with an old handkerchief?

Dear friends, to our modern ears, Luther’s tears, his desperate cry, and the licking up of the spilled wine may seem a bit extreme. But this is not because Luther and Bugenhagen were somehow less sophisticated than we are, nor because we are more refined or more germ-conscious than they were. No, if this account strikes us as excessive, perhaps the problem is not with Luther, but with us. Perhaps it reveals that we—as the modern church—have failed to rightly grasp what Luther and Bugenhagen so clearly confessed and believed: that in the Holy Supper we are not dealing with mere bread and mere wine, but with the true body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, given and shed for the forgiveness of sins.

Please listen, this is important. For Luther and Bugenhagen, the spilled wine was not a mere symbol spilled upon a coat and the bench rail. For them, it was not a bare memorial meal where some wine needed to be quickly cleaned up so that the mood of the service would not be ruined. No, Luther and Bugenhagen knew that the bread that was being consumed was the very body of Christ and that wine that was spilled was the very blood of Christ. And so, Luther wept, groaned, and rushed to the spill – not out of superstition and not out of need to keep things orderly in the service, but he rushed out of profound reverence.

And so, dear friends, back to our point. If the actions of Luther seem radical to us, perhaps we have grown too casual with holy things. Perhaps we have forgotten what it is that we eat and drink at this communion rail. Again, perhaps the problem is not with Luther but with us and how we understand this most holy meal – the Lord’s Supper.

So, this begs the question this Holy Thursday: what do we eat at this altar? What do we drink at this rail?

To answer this, we must come back to the simple words of Jesus.

“Take, eat; this is My body, which is given for you. Drink of it, all of you; this cup is the New Testament in My blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.”

And so, we hear very clearly that the bread we eat is not a spiritual representation of Christ’s body, but instead it is the same essential body of Jesus that hung on the cross. That’s right, at this altar, in, with, and under the bread, you are receiving not a copy, not a representation, not a figure, but the very body of Christ that hung on the cross. Upon your lips, Christ’s body is truly present for you.

And that wine, that you receive? Well, that too is not a spiritual representation, a figure, or a symbol. But it is the same blood that flowed through the Savior’s veins and was spilled on the cross for you.

And so, when you hear the words of institution, what is being said to you, is this:

“That which I offer to you, which you are to receive and eat, is not only bread, but also My body. That which I offer you, which you are to receive and drink, is not only wine, but also My blood.”

And so, let it be said that the main reasons why we gather in this church, around this altar, week after week after week, is not for social reasons, not for denominational heritage, not for life lessons, and not for nostalgic purposes, but we gather in this place to “hear God’s Word, call upon Him in prayer and praise, and receive the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ in the fellowship of this altar.”[2]

Baptized Saints, as we contemplate this most holy evening, the words of Jesus and His institution of the Holy Supper, let us never come to this communion rail casually or flippantly. May the Lord prevent us from coming to this altar as though we were merely going through religious motions.

Listen up; straighten up in those pews. Open your ears! We can never come to this altar as mere spectators, for here at this altar Christ Himself comes to you and me. Here at this altar, heaven and earth meet. Here, the crucified and risen Lord Jesus Christ is placed into your mouth. The body that was nailed to the tree and the blood that poured out for the remission of your sins is given to you right here at this altar.

And so, this means that this altar is holy. This rail is holy. This meal is holy. Not because of the marble flooring. Not because of the silver chalice. Not because of human ceremony. Not because of the albs that are worn. Not because of our detailed preparations. Not because of your pious disposition but because Christ – the Divine Logos – who meets you here to forgive your sins and strengthen your faith through His most Holy Supper.

Baptized Saints, we come before this altar in repentance, humility, and reverence, not because we are trying to earn anything or conjure up the Lord’s favor or presence. But instead, we conduct ourselves with fear, love, and trust because Christ has instituted and invited us to this most holy, profound meal to give us forgiveness – to give us immortal life through His body and blood.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

___________

[1] Johann Hachenburg, quoted in Edward Frederick Peters, The Origin and Meaning of the Axiom: “Nothing Has the Character of a Sacrament Outside of the Use” [Fort Wayne, Indiana: Concordia Theological Seminary Press, 1993], p. 191)

[2] Lutheran Service Book: Divine Service Setting 4, (Concordia Publishing House, 2006), 203.

The Seven Deadly Sins: Sloth

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 01 Apr 2026 17:18:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

It is often easiest to see the sins that we visibly commit. We call this in Confirmation the sins of ‘commission’ – sins that we do with our words and actions. However, there is another side to sin, and that is our sins of omission – sins that we cannot necessarily see – sins from things that we fail to do.

Tonight, we will examine a sin of omission – a sin that often goes unnoticed in the Christian life because it is the kind of sin that doesn’t show up. In other words, it doesn’t announce its presence. Indeed, the sin of sloth typically does not erupt in scandal. It does not normally arrive with loud rebellion against God. Instead, it quietly creeps into the heart like a slow fog settling over a North Dakota field.

Now, to be clear, the church has historically used the word “acedia” as a synonym for “sloth.” Perhaps acedia is a better word, as the word sloth does not fully capture the depths of what we are talking about tonight. You see, acedia is more than simple physical laziness. It is what we could describe as a dullness of soul – it is when a person grows tired of God’s Word. It is when a Christian grows bored with the promises of God, or perhaps when a Christian begins to yawn at the Gospel.

Let me give you an example to make sure that we are on the same page.

In Psalm 106, we hear of Israel in the wilderness. The Psalmist says they despised the pleasant land and did not believe God’s Word, but murmured in their tents. Notice what happened: it began with weariness and distaste. The good things God promised no longer excited them. The land flowing with milk and honey lost its appeal. The Word was no longer treasured as a gift. Instead of joy, there was grumbling—and that grumbling hardened into unbelief. Thus, boredom with God’s gifts can lead to rejection of God Himself.

The Book of Hebrews also discusses sloth and acedia. In Hebrews 6, we are warned about becoming sluggish, dull, and lazy as Christians. That is to say; when Godly zeal begins to fade, we can become spiritually heavy – we can become spiritual couch potatoes. We can become spiritually fat and sloppy with a haze of depression, saying, “Whatever” to God’s Word and Sacrament.

* * *

We must take a brief pause here and mention that in our modern society, acedia and sloth can sometimes disguise themselves as what is commonly called depression. Now it must be said that there are real medical conditions that affect the mind and body. There are forms of depression connected to chemical imbalances, trauma, and other physical realities. Those situations require compassion, care, and often medical treatment. The church must never dismiss genuine suffering in the body or mind.

* * *

At the same time, we must also recognize that there are times when people do not have the effects of clinical depression but are suffering from their own sin of acedia and sloth. That is to say, acedia is not primarily a medical condition but a spiritual one. It is the quiet voice in the heart that says that God can wait, the Word can be ignored, that the Divine Service is optional, and that the vocations God has given are simply burdens to endure rather than gifts to bless and receive. And so, acedia slowly drains the soul of joy in the Lord and replaces it with apathy.

Frankly, if we look real close, we can see acedia and sloth at work in our North Dakota LCMS churches. Consider the lack of Sunday attendance in our own and neighboring congregations. Consider also the physical care of many churches—not their age, but the clutter and neglect. You know what I mean: look in the storage compartments of pulpits and lecterns where God’s eternal truth is read and proclaimed, and you will find old cough drop wrappers, dead batteries, broken pens, and years of accumulated junk. And the sacristies? Too often, instead of clean and orderly spaces where the Holy Sacrament of immortality is prepared, you will find rooms that resemble cluttered storage rooms—rooms often seen on hoarding reality shows. Tragically, when the sanctuary, chancel, and sacristy look like a messy teenager’s bedroom or a garage sale, acedia and sloth are at work in a spiritually apathetic church.

Dear friends, it is important to understand that acedia tends to grow in conditions of comfort and ease. When life becomes comfortable, the human heart easily assumes that suffering should never touch us. We start to believe that we have a right to an easy life and that anything difficult is somehow unfair. Along with this expectation comes another assumption, namely that someone or something should always take care of us as we wallow in victimhood and sloth.

And so, within this mindset, pride whispers that we deserve comfort and that our lives should revolve around our preferences and what we deem to be normal, routine, and comfortable. Tragically, when pride joins with apathy, the soul becomes resistant to sacrifice, allergic to difficulty, and resistant to needed changes. Responsibilities begin to feel oppressive, and the things of God start to feel tedious – even legalistic - rather than life-giving.

If we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that this sin touches all of us. It shows itself in neglected prayer, unopened Bibles, postponed acts of love toward a neighbor, resistance to doing things with excellence in the church, and the quiet assumption that spiritual things can wait until tomorrow. Acedia rarely announces itself openly. It usually whispers.

Yet the church addresses this sin every single week in the Divine Service. Listen to our confession:

“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.”

Those final words capture the heart of acedia and sloth. Indeed, in that last part, we acknowledge the responsibilities we have neglected and the devotion we have allowed to fade – our sins of omission.

And so, Baptized Saints, hear this: the Christian response to acedia and sloth does not begin with simply trying harder. Instead, the Christian life begins with the recognition of this sin of acedia and sloth.

Let me break this down very simply: first, we recognize acedia and sloth for what they are. We do not excuse it or disguise it. We acknowledge that our spiritual laziness is part of the problem.

Second, we confess it before God. The confession of sins is not a ritual of shame but an act of honesty. It brings our spiritual apathy out of the darkness into the light and says that our spiritual laziness is a damnable sin.

Third, we receive absolution. When the pastor declares the forgiveness of sins, the guilt of acedia and sloth is forgiven because Christ has already carried it to the cross.

And that – right there is the key – the place to begin. You see, the way to combat acedia and sloth is to confess acedia and sloth. And once confessed, we get to receive forgiveness. And in that forgiveness, we are turned from sloth to gratitude, from apathy to grateful zeal, and from a spiritual drunken stupor to soberness in a new day of grace.

Baptized Saints, mark this – sloth and acedia flow from the old Adam, not from forgiveness, life, and salvation. And so, again, the best way to combat acedia and apathy is not to work harder and try harder but to confess it as sin and be returned to the life-giving Word and Sacraments. And mark this: through His Word, through Holy Absolution, through the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, Christ continually strengthens His people, which then leads not to acedia and sloth, but to gratitude, holy zeal, and sober alertness in Divine Truth.

Listen up! The gifts of God’s Word and Sacraments awaken hearts that have grown dull. They restore joy to those who have become weary. They renew faith and equip Christians to live within the vocations that God has given.

Acedia and sloth thrive where the gifts of God are neglected, ignored, or put off to the side as something secondary. But where Christ’s Word is heard, where sins are confessed, and where forgiveness is spoken, the fog of acedia and sloth begins to lift.

Baptized Saints, Christ Himself is present among you - His people – in His Word and Sacraments to forgive you, strengthen you, and sustain you until the last day, when all the spiritual heaviness of this vale of tears will be finally gone.

Lord, keep us steadfast in your Word. Grant us zeal by Your Holy Sacrament and gift us soberness through Your blessed Absolution. Amen.

The Seven Deadly Sins: Wrath

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 18 Mar 2026 12:59:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Wrath. It is a frightening word. When we hear that word, it communicates something, a dangerous kind of anger. Indeed, wrath is anger on steroids. It is anger that has lost restraint. It is anger that no longer seeks understanding but revenge. It is anger that rages and boils until it erupts. To make things worse, it is the kind of anger that can settle into a family and remain there for generations.

If we are going to speak plainly, wrath is the breaking of the Fifth Commandment. The Fifth Commandment says,

“You shall not murder.”

Now, many people hear that commandment and assume it only deals with physical violence. But the Catechism teaches us otherwise. The Fifth Commandment is not merely about striking our neighbor with our fists. It is also about what happens in our hearts and minds. We break this commandment whenever we harm our neighbor, whenever we hate our neighbor, whenever we refuse to help and support our neighbor in every physical need. And wrath, dear friends, is exactly that. Wrath seeks harm rather than help. Wrath seeks destruction rather than protection.

But here is the deeper problem. Wrath rarely stands alone. In other words, wrath is typically driven by the mother of sin - pride. Yes, pride is the fuel and energy behind wrath. Pride feeds wrath. Pride breathes life into wrath.

You see, pride has a way of placing the self at the center of everything. Pride makes you believe that your reputation is the most important thing in the room. Pride makes you believe that your desires must be fulfilled above everyone else. Pride convinces you that you must be respected and honored above all others. In other words, pride crowns the self as king.

And once the self becomes king, anything that threatens that throne of self begins to feel intolerable.

For example, when pride rules the heart, even small insults begin to feel like major injuries. Pride takes a simple criticism and turns it into humiliation. Pride takes a disagreement and interprets it as an attack. Pride takes correction and treats it like disrespect. Pride whispers in the mind,

“How dare they speak to you like that? How dare they question you? Do they not know who you are?”

And when those thoughts begin to swirl around in the mind, wrath begins to form.

At first, it might not seem very serious. It may feel like nothing more than irritation. Maybe it shows up as resentment quietly simmering beneath the surface. But those thoughts—those resentments—are like wrath in its infant form. They are like a child growing in the womb. They are not fully developed yet, but they are alive. And if those wrathful thoughts are left unchecked in the mind, they begin to grow.

Think about it this way. If wrath is the seed planted in the mind, that seed can take root and grow in the heart. And as that seed of wrath grows in the heart, bitterness emerges.

Please listen: as bitterness settles into the heart, it doesn’t stop. That bitterness with its deep, restricting roots eventually reaches the eyes. And then, the eyes begin to change: you start seeing others differently. Instead of seeing fellow sinners in need of mercy, you begin to see enemies. Instead of seeing neighbors, you begin to see problems. Instead of seeing people created in the image of God, you see fools.

You know exactly what I am talking about. Contempt in the eyes is when we look at others as though they are beneath us. Contempt says,

“That person is an idiot.”

Contempt says,

“That person is worthless.”

Contempt says,

“That person is nothing but trouble.”

Contempt strips away the humanity of others and reduces them to obstacles or enemies.

And when contempt fills the eyes, wrath rarely stays hidden. It gets worse – it spills out.

And the first place it usually spills out is the mouth.

Remember - wrath travels from the mind to the heart, from the heart to the eyes, and then it erupts from the mouth. You know what I talk about: words begin to fly. Harsh words. Cutting words. Insults. Slander. Shouting. Mockery. Sarcasm. The tongue becomes a weapon of wrath.

We have all witnessed this before: at work, at home, between you and your spouse, between you and your parents. Each word is aimed to wound. Each sentence is crafted to tear down. Wrath turns speech into a weapon of destruction. It is like a thousand darts flying out of the mouth with the intention to hurt, destroy, and crush anyone standing in the crosshairs of contempt-filled eyes.

But dear friends, it does not stop there.

If wrath is like a boiling volcano and the pressure beneath the surface cannot find release through the mouth, that pressure moves somewhere else. It moves to the hands. And so, wrath can erupt in actions. Sometimes wrath shows itself when someone withdraws help. And in more severe cases, wrath erupts in retaliation: fists fly and violence occurs. Hands that were created to serve the neighbor become instruments of harm.

Dear friends, the seduction of pride that leads to wrath is incredibly dangerous.

Once pride takes root, wrath follows a predictable progression. Pride puffs us up, and wrath becomes a seed in the mind. That seed travels to the heart, where it grows into bitterness. From the heart, it spreads to the eyes, where contempt forms. Then it pours forth insults and slander through the mouth. And if it continues unchecked, it reaches the hands where it does harm.

Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy on us.

Baptized Saints, I do not need to convince you that wrath is evil. And I certainly do not need to convince you that this evil lives within us. Each of us carries this sinful nature. Each of us has felt the heat of irritation. Each of us has entertained bitter thoughts.

Who among us can say that wrath has never crept into our minds? Who here can claim that their heart has never hardened toward another person? Who can say that contempt has never flashed through their eyes? Who can say that their mouth has never unleashed words they later regretted?

None of us can say that.

So what do we do about it?

Should we take a cold shower to cool down our tempers? Should we swallow some imaginary chill pill to calm ourselves?

No. None of those things solves the real problem.

There is only one thing to do.

Repent.

We must repent of our pride. We must repent of the wrath that has lodged itself in our minds, our hearts, our eyes, our mouths, and our hands. We must confess the ugly truth that we have tried to put ourselves on the throne. We have acted as though we are the judge, the jury, and the executioner of our neighbor.

But we are not.

Vengeance does not belong to us. Wrath does not belong to us. Scripture says,

“Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” Justice belongs to God—not to us.

And that truth drives us straight to the cross of Christ.

For while we have been filled with sinful wrath toward others, Christ has borne the wrath of God for you and me.

Every ounce of divine wrath against sin—your sin and my sin—was poured out upon Christ. On the cross, the Son of God stood in our place. The wrath that we deserved fell upon Him. The judgment that belonged to us landed on His shoulders.

Dear friends, that is the Gospel.

The wrath of God against sin has been satisfied in Christ. Your pride is forgiven. Your wrath is forgiven. Your bitterness is forgiven. Your harsh words, your hateful thoughts, your vengeful impulses—Christ carried them all to the cross and made full satisfaction for all of them. You are forgiven; your sins are atoned for.

* * *

Now it must also be said, briefly, that there is such a thing as righteous anger. Scripture speaks of it. Righteous anger is not driven by wounded pride or personal insult. Righteous anger flows from the righteousness of God. It is anger toward sin and injustice that harms others and dishonors the Lord.

Jesus Himself displayed this righteous anger when He cleansed the temple. His anger was not selfish. It was not vindictive. It was holy zeal for His Father’s house. And so, as a quick side note: we must never repent of anger over the things that the Lord God angers over. Sometimes it is good to be angry, but do not sin in that anger.

* * *

Baptized Saints, each day we return to our Baptism. Each day, the old Adam is drowned through repentance. Each day, we hear the sweet words of absolution again:

Your sins are forgiven.

And when those words land upon our ears and settle into our hearts, something remarkable happens. The Gospel softens what wrath has hardened. The mercy of Christ melts bitterness. The forgiveness of Christ frees us to forgive others.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

When the Bible Is Sheathed: The Church’s Greatest Danger

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 11 Mar 2026 16:43:00 +0000

Text: Hebrews 4:9-13

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

As you have heard from this pulpit before, the Word of God—the words of Holy Scripture—are often compared to a hammer, or a javelin, or a sword. Scripture itself speaks this way. This is not accidental language. That is to say, the Word of God is not a dead word. The Word of God is not passive. The Word of God is not like the dry words often found in old owner’s manuals for ovens or vacuums.

No, the Word of God has power because the Holy Spirit is present with the Word. Where the Word of God is preached, proclaimed, spoken, sung, and read, the Holy Spirit is working. Always. Without exception. And so, the Word is not a powerless puff of air. It is not just information. It does not merely describe reality—it creates, it confronts, it accomplishes, and it pierces.

Mark this: the Word of God is powerful. It is like a sword.

We hear this in our Epistle reading from Hebrews:

“The Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword.”

And so, the Word is sharp — sharper than any blade we could forge. It is sharp like a surgeon’s scalpel. It cuts through our doubts. It cuts through our excuses. It cuts through our defenses and our justifications. It cuts through our carefully constructed religious images of ourselves. The Word of God cuts and lays bare the old Adam from the new spiritual life in Christ. It judges our thoughts, our ideas, our agendas—the deepest and most hidden movements of our hearts. The Word gets inside of us and exposes what we would rather keep hidden. It interrogates us. It presses in on us. And before this Word, nothing is hidden from God. As we say in confirmation,

“We don’t read the Bible, the Bible reads us.”

And so, we cannot escape the Word. The Word of God knows us better than we know ourselves. It wounds our plans and ideas. It takes away every ground of confidence we try to stand on apart from Christ. It strips away our idols—whatever they may be—and ascribes redemption solely to the blood of Jesus Christ. No wonder, then, that so many people want to keep the Word of God inside a sheath.

Now, what do I mean by a “sheath”?

A sheath is a fitted covering for a sword. It may be made of leather, wood, or metal. Its purpose is simple: to contain and restrain the blade. A sheath keeps the edge of the sword from cutting and the point from piercing. A sheath keeps the sword from doing what it was made to do.

And so, a sword in its sheath is safe. It is non-threatening. It does not confront anyone. It does not wound. It does not expose. It simply hangs there—often unnoticed and often forgotten.

So, what’s the point?

The point is that history has shown us that one of the greatest threats to Christians is our tendency to put the Word of God – the double-edged sword - into a sheath.

For example, consider the Old Testament. In 2 Kings, we read about something shocking: the Word of God was lost in the temple. Not lost in a cave. Not stolen by enemies. Not destroyed. The Word of God was lost in plain sight.

Long story short, the temple was being repaired, and during the work, the Book of the Law (the Word of God) was discovered. Just so we understand this, let me make it crystal clear: imagine that you all showed up for a church clean-up day. You’re going through storage rooms and closets, and someone suddenly says,

“What’s this? Hey… everyone, there’s a Bible in here. We haven’t read this or studied this in years.”

That is what happened. The Word of God was in the house of God—but it was lost and forgotten. It had been put in a sheath. The sharp sword of the Word was no longer piercing or cutting. It was present but covered and set aside.

Fast forward to the 1500s, and the same thing happened again.

Martin Luther and the Reformers did not invent something new. They did not create a new Gospel. They simply found the sheathed sword, brushed off the dust, pulled it out, and put the sharp, double-edged Word of God back into the pulpit, the font, and the altar.

You see, during the Lutheran Reformation, the Gospel had not been erased—it had been covered over. In 1520, Luther wrote that the Gospel was present in the Church but bound, distorted, and obscured by human tradition, sacramental abuse, and false theology. Using our metaphor: the Word of God had been put into a sheath—and then the handle was duct-taped to the sheath—and then the sheathed sword was shoved into the basement of the church.

Now, dear friends, the reason I mention these two examples — and there are many more throughout church history — is to point out that those who sheathed the Word of God were not outsiders. Atheists and enemies of the church did not sheath the Word of God. No, the Word of God was sheathed by Israel’s own leaders: kings, priests, and the religious culture itself. And in the 1500s, it was no different. Bishops, theologians, and canon lawyers sheathed the double-edged sword.

You see, the problem was not a lack of zeal or activity. The problem was that the Word of God was put into a sheath.

So, what about today?

Listen up: we are no different.

Every time I think about this topic, I am reminded of a story right here in conservative and traditional North Dakota. A faithful pastor dared to take the sword out of the sheath. He dared to preach the Word of God clearly. And the parishioners… they did not like it. They did not like being pierced. They did not like it when the Word named their sins and ascribed salvation to Christ alone, not to their own pious works.

So, what happened?

Well, a group of parishioners got together. They slandered the pastor. They stirred up the mob. And they sent the pastor packing—nearly destroying his family and marriage in the process.

Then the congregation held meetings. They called a new pastor. But this time, they did their homework. They called a pastor who would keep the Word of God in the sheath. Yes, they actually hired a pastor to protect them from the Word of God. The pastor agreed to keep the sword covered and to tickle their ears. Lord have mercy!

Dear friends, whenever we skip uncomfortable or offensive Bible passages, whenever we use soft or vague translations, whenever we choose feel-good hymns over difficult hymns, whenever we downplay doctrinal precision for the sake of unity, whenever we choose friendships and peace over truth and integrity, whenever we speak the Law in vague and general terms, whenever we avoid certain commandments because it might disrupt our families, whenever we get embarrassed by certain teachings because we don’t want the world to think we are backwards, whenever we sanitize the Bible and make it sound like a fairy tale… anytime we do any of these things - we are sheathing the Word.

What does the Lord God have to say to us when we sheath His Word? Surely God has the power to prevent this from happening.

Listen up; scripture tells us something very sobering.

In the book of Amos, people rejected the Word of God. And the Lord responded, in effect,

“If you do not want My Word, you do not have to have it.”

And so, the Lord sent a famine—not of bread, but of hearing the Word.

Dear friends, this should shake you to your bones. This is the most frightening judgment imaginable: God let the people have their way. They sheathed the Word, and the Lord God honored their desires and removed His Word as a form of Judgment.

Listen up: when the Word of God is sheathed, it leads to spiritual starvation, and the Lord God may just remove His Word, giving people what they want. Tragically, we see this happening in many American churches right now.

Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy on us.

Baptized Saints, let this be our prayer today: that the Lord would continue among us the preaching of the Gospel for our instruction and edification. That He would send His blessing upon His Word, that by the Holy Spirit we may increase in the saving knowledge of Christ, who has bled, died, and risen for our justification.

May the Word never be sheathed at St. Paul’s Lutheran but instead may the sharp sword of the Word be present in our sanctuary, fellowship hall, and Sunday School rooms to invade our ears, hearts, and lives. May the Word strip away every false ground and every idol granting us repentance. And may the Word pour the saving Gospel of Christ into our hearts — that Jesus has accomplished forgiveness, life, and salvation for you and for me free of charge because of His rich mercy.

Hear the unsheathed Word of God, dear Baptized Saints.

The same Word that cuts you also comforts you. The same sword that exposes your sin proclaims your forgiveness. For Christ Jesus has taken the full cut of the Law for you. He was pierced for your transgressions. The sword fell on Him at the cross, not on you.

And because of that, the Word now speaks life to you.

Your sins are forgiven. You are justified. You are baptized into Christ – redeemed from sin, death, and the devil. And the Word that wounds also heals, keeps, and preserves you—day by day—until your final breath.

Lord, give us ears to hear, make us captive to your Word, may the Word never be sheathed. Amen.

The Seven Deadly Sins: Pride

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 04 Mar 2026 18:17:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The seven deadly sins are often thought of as Roman Catholic. When people hear the phrase, “Seven Deadly Sins,” they picture something medieval — something foreign to us. But let us be clear: the seven deadly sins are not distinctly Roman Catholic. They are thoroughly Biblical. They simply summarize patterns of sinful desire that Holy Scripture repeatedly condemns.

And so, this Lent, we will examine them together. The seven deadly sins are: pride, envy, wrath, sloth, greed, gluttony, and lust.

Now, keep this in mind. These are not merely outward behaviors. They are not just the visible sins that others can see and measure. Instead, they tend to describe the corrupt motives of the sinful heart. They identify the inward impulses from which sinful actions flow.

And from a Lutheran perspective, this fits naturally with the doctrine of original sin. That is to say; we are not sinners because we sin. We sin because we are sinners. That is correct, the problem with humanity is deeper than behavior. The problem is the heart which is curved inward on itself. Instead of fearing, loving, and trusting in God above all things, the heart bends inward. It seeks itself. It trusts itself. It justifies itself. And this is the key to understanding the seven deadly sins. They show us how the heart bends inward. They describe the motives behind our breaking of the Ten Commandments.

Take the Seventh Commandment:

“You shall not steal.”

We may steal because of greed—we want more.

We may steal because of sloth—we are too lazy to work an honest wage.

We may steal because of envy—we resent what our neighbor has, and so we take it.

And so, while stealing is obviously a sin – it breaks the 7th Commandment, the motive for why we steal is different, even though the motive typically comes back to serving ourselves.

Or take the Third Commandment: we may despise the preaching of God’s Word and neglect going to church because of sloth—we are too lazy to get out of bed. Or we may despise the preaching of God’s Word because of pride—we think we already have everything figured out. We do not want to hear that we are wrong.

Again, as you can see, the seven deadly sins are not an alternative moral code. They are a diagnostic tool. They expose the root corruption that leads to the breaking of the Commandments.

And so tonight, we begin with the father of all sins: pride.

* * *

So, what is pride?

Pride is nothing more than dangerous selfishness.

Our world calls pride narcissism. And while that is partially true, we humans are much worse than simply being narcissistic. To be narcissistic is to put ourselves first, to crave validation, to have an inflated sense of self-importance. But pride goes further.

Pride is self-focus and self-exaltation that replaces God with the ourselves.

Yes, you heard that correctly. Pride says,

“I am sufficient. I do not need forgiveness. I do not need wisdom. I do not need correction. I will be like God.”

Pride is the opposite of humility.

* * *

Let’s flesh this out a bit more.

Consider Genesis 3.

When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, we often call it “the Fall.” And while this is indeed true, we must clarify that their fall was not merely a downward plunge. More specifically, it was a rebellion. Adam and Eve’s sin was an upward grasping.

Remember the serpent’s words:

“You will not surely die… you will be like God, knowing good and evil”?

There was a line drawn over Adam and Eve. God was God. Adam and Eve were creatures. There was a realm above Adam and Eve that did not belong to them — the authority to define good and evil. Adam and Eve were not to step into that realm.

But the devil tempted them.

“God is holding out on you. Step over the line. Rise above. You will not die. You will be like God.”

And so, the step was taken.

Adam and Eve rose up in pride. They attempted to invade the realm of God. It was not simply a fall downward. It was an upward rebellion, a insurrection, or could we say… an uprising of mortal men.

Lord, have mercy.

This is why pride can be called demonic. Pride is the desire to rise above God’s order. Pride is the heart’s refusal to fear, love, and trust in God. Instead, pride fears, loves, and trusts in itself. Stated simply, the Old Adam does not run on faith but runs on pride.

And this is why pride hates the church.

Please hear me out on this – we need to be very clear on this point!

Pride hates the Law and the Gospel.

Your pride does not like to hear God’s rules because pride prefers its own rules. Pride does not like to be told what to do.

But pride also does not like the Gospel. Because the Gospel says salvation has been accomplished entirely by Someone else. Pride does not want to be saved. Pride wants to save itself.

Pride hates confession. It does not want to say,

“I am wrong. I am a poor miserable sinner.”

Pride does not like absolution either. Because absolution means the solution comes from outside of you.

Pride hates reverence. It does not want to bow. It does not want to kneel. It does not want to submit to the liturgy. Pride prefers casual familiarity—something less humbling, something where pride can be in control and not be placed under God.

Pride hates listening. It would rather talk. It would rather control. To sit and be taught? To receive instruction? No! Pride prefers to be the teacher.

Pride even hates history. It dismisses the wisdom of those who came before. It tears down the past to elevate itself in the present.

Let’s not stop there; pride hates the Sacraments.

Pride despises the notion that Baptism is something God does to us. Pride would rather make Baptism into something we do for God—a declaration of our will, our decision, our commitment.

And at the altar? Pride does not want to kneel as a beggar. Pride does not want to receive Christ’s body and blood. Instead pride says,

“I can worship on my own. I do not need a church. I do not need a pastor.”

Are you getting the picture?

Pride wants us to be gods.

* * *

So, what needs to happen?

Quite frankly, our pride needs to pop.

It needs to be crucified.

It needs to die.

Dear friends, we must recognize that we are not God. We need to be honest that when we try to be God, nothing good comes of it.

Instead, pride elevates us into a fog of delusion, where we imagine ourselves wise and powerful. Meanwhile, we are mortal. We are dying. The grave awaits us, and there is nothing we can do to stop it.

Listen up! Pride must be brought low. Pride must pop. It must be crucified. It must die in all of us.

Baptized Saints, tonight we confess the sin of pride: we confess our self-sufficiency, our self-importance, our desire to be in control, our refusal to listen, and our resistance to kneel – we confess it all as foolish rebellion. We confess it as demonic ambitions of our old Adam.

And as we confess, we must not be left with the despair of pride but we must hear the Gospel from outside ourselves:

Your pride has been crucified with Christ.

You no longer live, but Christ lives in you.

The life you now live, you live not by pride, but by faith in the Son of God who loved you and gave Himself for you.

Indeed, hear this right now. Let it comfort you:

Because Jesus humbly went to the cross, you are humbled out of your pride.

Because Jesus loved you on the cross, you are loved out of your need to prove yourself.

Because Jesus died, you are taken from death to life.

Because Jesus was glad to die for you, you are freed from the exhausting burden of being your own god.

Baptized Saints – there is an alternative to pride – it is Jesus.

Jesus, completely obedient to the Father, has done everything for your salvation. You need not ascend. You need not try to control. You need not justify yourself. You do not need to seek self-importance. You have Christ and Christ has you.

Because Christ is your King, you may bow.

Because Christ redeemed you, you may kneel.

Because Christ speaks truth, you may listen.

Because Christ came not to be served but to serve you, you may receive.

Because of Christ, you may be still and know that He is God.

In Christ – pride finds its end. In Christ, you find the gift of humility, and with humility, you have certainty, assurance, identity, and confidence in this vale of tears and even in death itself.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Christianity: Not Cleverly Devised Myths

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Sat, 28 Feb 2026 19:53:00 +0000

Text: 2 Peter 1:16-21

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Have you ever quietly asked yourself—perhaps during a difficult moment or when challenged — is Christianity real?

I’m not asking whether it feels real or seems real. I’m asking whether the Christian faith is real. Is it truly and objectively real, or is it just something we embrace because it gives us comfort? Is it just something that we uphold because of tradition, or to make Grandma happy?

If I were to guess, I think this question may pop into our minds more often than we’d like to admit, especially in a world where everything feels up for debate. And tragically, I think we can say that many Christians want to believe the Christian faith is real; however, they end up acting and speaking as if it were not. In other words, when the rubber meets the road - when Christians are put on the spot, too many Christians retreat not into the concrete truth of Scripture but into vague emotionalism and what the Apostle Peter rightly calls

“Cleverly devised myths.”

Think about this for a moment: consider what many Christians put forward as evidence that Christianity is true. If asked,

“Why are you a Christian?”

The answer that is often given has nothing to do with what God has done in history. Instead, the answer goes straight to the self.

“Well, I used to be lost and on drugs, but now I found purpose in Jesus and I am clean.”

Or, even worse,

“I just know in my heart that He’s real.”

Now, to be clear, these testimonies are not evil, and the people sharing them are often sincere. They want to do good; they want to bring others to Christ. But their approach shows something troubling. You see, when pressed to explain the truth of Christianity, they reach not for the solid rock of God’s action in time and space – they don’t reach for the unchanging Word - but they grab a hold of personal experiences and emotional feelings. That, dear friends, is very problematic. It is the very thing Peter warns against in our Epistle reading.

When Peter speaks of “cleverly devised myths” in our epistle reading, he is not necessarily talking about fairy tales in the childish sense. He is not comparing Christianity to a bedtime story. Rather, he is pushing back against the idea that Christianity is an emotionally compelling story designed to control people or stir them toward a moral or emotional outcome. You see, in Peter’s day—as in ours—there were many spiritual movements that used persuasive stories to gather followers. These stories sometimes contained truth; however, that is not the concern. The concern was that these stories were engineered to move the emotions, to sound convincing, and to make people feel something. The cleverly devised myths that Peter warns about were religious sales pitches rather than the delivery of reality.

* * *

Now, today, we must not be naïve. The Church is not immune to such tactics. That is to say, cleverly devised myths abound in our day and age. We have all heard them. We’ve all felt the pull. These cleverly devised myths are powerful, and when you package them in emotional music, glowing testimonies, and heart-stirring imagery, they can move a crowd. But dear friends, cleverness is not the same as truth, and emotional fervor is not the same as reality. Again, those who share these cleverly devised myths typically are not full of malice. However, their methods fall short. They try to prop up Christianity by appealing to the emotions of their hearers, as if the faith needs to be made appealing to be valid. They end up relying on human stories, human logic, and human persuasion to do what only the Word of God can do.

And if we are honest, we too have been tempted to go down this path. If we wanted to build a ministry here at St. Paul’s on cleverly devised myths, we could do it. We would simply need to do what many other churches do—study the culture, find out what people want to hear, and then construct stories and programs and slogans that speak directly to those desires. We’d focus less on the Word of God and more on emotional impact. We’d build a religion around feelings. And we’d likely get results—numbers, excitement, even apparent conversions. But in the end, we would not have the Church. We would only have a myth factory. We would be peddling spiritual experiences rather than proclaiming the death and resurrection of Christ.

Please know that I say this not as a theoretical warning, but from personal pastor experience. Years ago, I served in a church where the focus was not on Christ and Him crucified, but on the stories of people’s changed lives. Sermons were built not around Law and Gospel, but around human transformation. People got far more excited about someone quitting meth than about Jesus defeating death. The praise songs weren’t about what Christ has done, but about how we feel. Sermon titles promised personal victory and self-empowerment, not forgiveness and eternal life. And why? Because it worked. Because it stirred emotions. Because cleverly devised myths – they sell. Lord, have mercy.

The Apostle Peter, however, will not allow us to rest in such things. His words to us are crystal clear:

“We did not follow cleverly devised myths… but we were eyewitnesses of Jesus’ majesty.”

In other words, Peter did not make anything up. He did not sit around a campfire and brainstorm persuasive stories with the other apostles. He did not construct a religious movement out of emotional manipulations. No, Peter testifies to what he saw with his own eyes and heard with his own ears. He was on that mountain. He saw Jesus transfigured before him. He heard the voice from heaven declare,

“This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

Listen up – what Peter shares with us was not an internal feeling. This was an external event. A historical fact. A divine revelation that He proclaims to you and me.

And that is why we must understand that Christianity is not a myth. It is not founded on emotion, experience, or symbolic ideas. It is grounded in history. It is founded on the real Jesus, who was really born in Bethlehem, really lived in Galilee, really suffered under Pontius Pilate, really was crucified, died, and was buried, and really rose again from the grave on the third day. These things happened in time and space. They were seen. They were heard. They were recorded. They are not subjective interpretations, but objective events. That is why we confess in the Creed names and places—Mary, Pilate, a Roman crucifixion, resurrection—not abstract ideas or personal feelings.

Dear friends, if Christianity were just a myth, then we would need to keep updating it for every generation. We would need to constantly polish it and repackage it so that it continues to be emotionally relevant. But we don’t do that. We proclaim what has already been done—what God has done in Christ Jesus. And that message does not change. It does not lose power. It does not wear out. It is not rooted in your feelings or your stories or your strength, but in Christ's finished work.

So then, here at St. Paul’s, we do not gather around stories of self-help or emotional uplifting songs. We do not play church. We do not come here to be entertained or manipulated. We come to hear what is real. We gather around the real Word of God. We receive real truth, real forgiveness, real hope, from the real Son of God, who sits at the right hand of the Father and who will come again to judge the living and the dead. We come because this Jesus—who was transfigured before Peter, James, and John—descended that mountain and set His face toward Jerusalem. He walked to a specific cross to die for specific sins—your sins and mine. And from there, He went into a specific tomb, only to rise again on the third day as your Savior and mine.

This is why we preach Christ crucified, not cleverly devised myths.

This is why the center of our life as a church is the Word and Sacraments, not emotional hype.

This is why we baptize, not as a symbolic gesture, but as a real washing of regeneration.

This is why we come to the Lord’s Supper, not for spiritual symbolism, but to receive Christ’s very body and blood, for the forgiveness of sins.

This is why we read and proclaim Scripture—not as a moral guidebook, but as the living, active voice of the God who acts in history and speaks with authority.

So, Baptized Saints, do not look inward for your assurance. Do not search your feelings for spiritual truth. Do not cling to your own story, your own sincerity, or your own emotional experiences. Those things shift and fade. They rise and fall. Instead, look to Christ. Look to what He has done. Look to what is real, what is finished, what is secure.

You have a sure and certain Word, a faith grounded in fact, a Savior who is not a symbol but a person. And He is for you.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The Church Is Not A Pyramid

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Fri, 20 Feb 2026 17:54:00 +0000

Text: Romans 12:6-16

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

When I was a teenager, I remember very clearly that the best thing I could do as a Christian was to be a missionary. That is right. Whether intentionally or not, it was communicated to me very clearly that being a missionary overseas was the highest or best Christian calling.

And so, most of the missionaries that I had met served in Africa. This was a problem for me. In my young teenage mind, Africa was way too hot for a North Dakota boy. And so, as a young zealous Christian, I found myself in a dilemma. I wanted to do the best thing for God, but I did not want to go to Africa. That meant I had to realize that I would never reach the highest tier of Christian living.

So, I looked for the next best thing. I became the president of our youth group. I volunteered to read Scripture during church services. I taught Sunday School. Eventually, I became the youth leader. These things gave me a sense of spiritual significance. They felt like steps on the ladder, moving me closer to that top-tier Christianity. But truth be told, I hadn't quite arrived at the top until I announced that I was going to seminary to be a pastor. Then I felt like I had finally done it. I had reached close to the top.

Now, please do not misunderstand me. I am not disparaging these things. It is good to go to seminary. It is good to serve as a pastor. It is good to serve as a missionary. These are necessary and honorable vocations in the church. However, the problem comes when we begin to rank these vocations and callings as if some are inherently more faithful than others.

You see, what happened to me as a teenager, and what happens so often in the church today, is that we construct a spiritual ladder. Missionaries are at the top. Pastors are right below. Then come elders. And then we have the trustees, the Sunday School teachers, the quilters, the coffee makers, and finally the ordinary laypeople just sitting in the pews. We do this because we give weight to the gifts and callings that are most visible, supposedly most sacrificial, and those callings that have the apparent most impact.

This kind of thinking results in a mindset in which faithfulness is measured by how visible the work is, how sacrificial it appears, and what perceived impact it seems to have. And so, when this mindset spreads in the church, we begin to see the Body of Christ not as a body, but as a pyramid. Certain vocations are elevated. Others are minimized. And people either feel guilty that they can't reach the higher callings, or they become prideful because they think they've made it. People chase after positions for the sake of spiritual clout, or they languish in shame, believing that their quiet service isn't enough to meet Jesus’ approval.

Lord have mercy. This is not how it is supposed to be in the church.

In our reading from the Epistle to the Romans, the Apostle Paul gives us a better way. He says,

"We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us.”

And then he lists several: preaching, serving, teaching, encouraging, giving, leading, and showing mercy. Now, it is important to note that Paul does not say that every Christian must possess or exercise all these gifts. He does not rank them either. He does not say that preaching gets you more spiritual points than showing mercy, or that leading gives you more bragging rights than serving. No, he simply says: if you teach, then teach. If you serve, then serve. If you encourage, then encourage. If you give, then give.

Paul is saying that God is the one who calls and equips His people. And He does not do it the same way for every person. That is good. That is by design. We are not all called to the same work, and God does not expect us to be. Instead of giving the same gift to everyone, He gives a variety of gifts, each according to His will, for the purpose of building up the church and serving our neighbor.

But here is where we falter. Instead of receiving that diversity of gifts as grace, we begin to compare these gifts. We start assigning value and measuring these spiritual gifts. We elevate certain gifts and diminish others. And once we begin doing that—once we assign religious points based on visibility, or sacrifice, or perceived impact—we twist the grace of God into a system of merit. And that system breeds pride, envy, guilt, and despair.

Dear friends, if certain roles are seen as more earning more spiritual points, those in those roles will be tempted toward pride—believing they are more important. And those who are not in those visible roles are often given to guilt and shame, always questioning their worth, if they are doing enough for Jesus.

And then the church begins to malfunction. It no longer operates as a body. It begins to run like a machine—fueled by fear, driven by performance. The grace and peace of Christ is replaced with pressure and anxiety. Comparison takes the place of contentment. Instead of being encouraged to use the gifts we’ve been given, we’re told to chase after the ones we don’t have. We will try to collect spiritual gifts like baseball cards.

Dear Baptized Saints, that is not the church. That is not how Christ has ordered His body. That is the way of the world. That is how corporations function. That is how political campaigns work. That is how a drama-filled-girls basketball teams operates. That is not the church.

So how does the church function, then?

The church functions by grace. It functions by the gifts of Christ, given freely and distributed according to His will. It functions not by comparison or competition, but by love and service. Christ gives some to be leaders, others to be teachers, others to be helpers, others to be encouragers. And these gifts are not meant to be trophies or measuring sticks. They are not badges of honor. They are tools to bless your neighbor. They are gifts to build up the church in the hope of the Gospel and the love of Christ.

Listen up! God does not expect you to fulfill every role. He has not equipped you to do everything. And so, you do not need to feel guilty if you are not gifted in a particular way. You do not need to chase after a calling that the Lord has not given you. You do not need to be someone else. Paul does not say,

"The one who encourages must also teach."

No, he says,

"The one who encourages, encourage."

He does not say,

"The one who gives must also lead."

No, he says,

"The one who gives, give generously."

Oh, how much time and energy is wasted in the church trying to push people out of their God-given vocations in the name of getting people out of their comfort zone to be on fire for Jesus. How often is the grandma who bakes cookies and blesses the church with her hospitality made to feel as if that is not enough? As if she needs to be on a mission trip or leading a Bible study to really count in the kingdom? Shame on that ideology. That is not the way of Christ and His Church.

Instead, what if we encouraged people to find joy in what they are already gifted to do? What if we stopped pressuring people to become someone else and simply encouraged them to be who they are in Christ? What if we echoed the words of the Apostle Paul, saying,

"If you help, then help. Do it well. Do it faithfully. If you teach, then teach sound doctrine. Do it with clarity and truth. If you encourage, then guide gently. If you lead, then lead with integrity. If you give, then give cheerfully. God be praised!"

Baptized Saints, when we begin to see all of these gifts as equally necessary, equally valuable, equally from the hand of Christ, then something beautiful happens. There is no longer competition. There is no longer jealousy. There are no emergencies in the church. If you are gifted in one area and another person is gifted in another, you can rejoice in each other's service. If two people are gifted in the same area and there's more help than needed, one can step back without feeling threatened, because the goal is not personal achievement. The goal is blessing your neighbor. The goal is love.

And even more than that, when we understand that our identity is not in our gifts but in our baptism, when we understand that we do not serve to become Christians but because we already are Christians, then we are free. Free to serve without fear. Free to rest when needed. Free to rejoice in the gifts of others. Free to be faithful with excellence to the vocations the Lord has set before us.

And so, dear Baptized Saints, the church of Christ is not a ladder to climb. It is not a hierarchy of spiritual rankings. It is a body, governed by grace. God does not call every Christian to the same work, but He does call every Christian to be faithful in the work He has given.

And so, at the end of the day, whatever our calling, we say with Christ,

“We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty. And we trust that even our weak and imperfect service is sanctified in Christ because we belong to Him”

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Baptism Is Not A Heritage Token

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Thu, 05 Feb 2026 16:36:00 +0000

Text: Matthew 3:12-17

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

When you think about your baptism, do you think about it in the past tense or in the present tense? That is to say, if someone asked you, "Are you baptized?" would you answer, "Yes, I was baptized," or would you say, "Yes, I am baptized"?

Now, this might seem like a small grammar detail - a technicality that only English teachers would care about. But, dear friends, don’t dismiss this as irrelevant or nitpicky theology. This is vitally important. Pay attention!

You see, there is a common tendency to speak about baptism in the past tense. Perhaps the reason why, is that we do not baptize Christians over and over and over again. That is to say, there is only one baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. One baptism. That's it. Unlike the Lord's Supper, which we receive every week, baptism is administered only once. And because we only baptize people one time, we often speak of baptism as something that happened in the past —

"I was baptized on March 9, 1979."

Now, hear me clearly. It is not wrong to refer to your baptism in the past tense. However, there's a danger when we do.

Let me explain.

If baptism is just a past event, then we can end up putting baptism on the shelf, never to be looked at again. If it is just a past event, well… we can then treat baptism like an old photograph — something sentimental but no longer relevant.

Dear friends, may God spare us from turning baptism into an old spiritual relic or a powerless tradition. We must be careful not to view Baptism as a heritage token. Let me say it again: Baptism is not a heritage token.

This is why I am so direct about this issue at St. Paul's Lutheran Church when I receive phone calls from community members seeking to have their children baptized. Many of these families aren't connected to any church. Some may have a grandparent who attends here at St. Paul's. And so, when they ask if I will baptize their child, my answer is always,

"Absolutely. But let’s talk about it a bit more."

Now, when I say that we should talk about it a bit more, people tend to get uncomfortable. But my goal isn't to push them away. My goal is to help them hear what Jesus says about baptism in Matthew 28. In Matthew chapter 28, Jesus says,

"Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you."

Did you catch that?

Jesus connects baptism with ongoing teaching. He doesn’t just say "baptize" — He says "baptize and teach." That is to say, both are essential in making disciples.

And so, when I speak with parents about baptizing their children, I ask them plainly:

"After we baptize your child, are you going to make sure the child is taught the Christian faith? Are you going to bring them to church? To Sunday School? Will they hear Jesus’ Word week after week?"

Now, please listen closely: if someone wants their child baptized, that is good, right, and salutary. However, if they want their child baptized into Christ without wanting the teachings of Christ, then we have a serious problem.

Jesus says that disciples are made by both baptizing and teaching. Both are necessary. But if someone only wants baptism and has no intention of bringing their child to be taught—if they intend to baptize and then disappear—then it's nothing more than a "sprinkle and scram" mentality. It's a wet-the-head-and-forget-the-rest spirituality. It treats baptism like religious hocus pocus. A magic trick. A ritual for the photo album. They are treating baptism as a heritage token.

Dear friends, this is spiritual deadbeat parenting. It's being present for the baptism and then spiritually neglecting and starving the child afterwards. It misunderstands what baptism is and what it's for. Again, it treats baptism as a heritage token.

Dear friends, listen up! Baptism is not a superstition. It’s not a lucky charm. It’s not a cultural tradition. It’s not something we do just because that is what grandma expects. Baptism is not about heritage—it’s about Jesus. It’s about being united with Christ in His death and resurrection. It’s about becoming a new creation. It’s about being given a new identity – becoming a child of God.

You see, baptism is not a past-tense event. It is a present-tense reality. Hear that again, loud and clear:

Baptism is not a past-tense event. It is a present-tense reality.

You don’t just look back on your baptism as something that happened. You live in your baptism every single day. That is to say, you wake up each day in your baptism. You face temptation in your baptism. You fight the devil in your baptism. You stand before the accusations of the world in your baptism.

So again, when someone asks, "Are you baptized?" the answer is not, "I was baptized." The answer is, "I am baptized."

Mark this: baptism is who you are. It is your identity. It is your present status before God. You are the baptized!

Furthermore, hear the bold news about your baptism into Christ: it is unshakable. It does not change. It does not fade. It does not expire. Baptism is not just an event on a certificate. It is God’s ongoing promise to you. In baptism, your sins are washed away. In baptism, you are buried with Christ and raised to new life. In baptism, the name of God — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — is branded upon you. You are marked as one redeemed by Christ the crucified, in your Holy Baptism.

And so, it doesn’t matter what the world says about you. It doesn’t matter what the devil whispers in your ear. It doesn’t matter what your sinful flesh tells you. Those voices are lies. You have been marked. You have been named. You have been claimed by God Himself. Your identity is secure because God placed His name upon you in Holy Baptism.

And so, when the devil accuses you, you say,

"Satan, hear this proclamation, I am baptized into Christ."

When shame creeps in, you say,

"I am baptized into Christ."

When your conscience condemns you, you say,

"I am baptized into Christ."

When death looms, you say,

"I am baptized into Christ."

Dear friends, your baptism clothes you in Christ’s righteousness. It covers all your sin. It is your comfort in life and in death. On the Last Day, when you stand before the judgment seat of Christ, you will not stand in fear—you will stand in confidence. Not because of your good works. Not because of your spiritual achievements. But because you are baptized into Christ, clothed in His righteousness.

* * *

Perhaps nothing illustrates the ongoing power of baptism more clearly than the practice of confession and absolution.

When you come to church and confess your sins—when you speak those words, "I, a poor, miserable sinner"—what happens next? The pastor doesn’t say, "Try harder." He doesn’t say, "Do better." He stands near the font and says, "I forgive you all your sins."

That is baptism in the present tense. You see, Holy Absolution is simply returning you to the font. In other words, Holy Absolution is not a separate forgiveness — it is a return to the forgiveness you already have in your baptism.

Think of it this way: baptism is like a continual stream of mercy. A never-ending fountain of forgiveness. But we, like stubborn pigs, wander away from that stream. We leave the clean waters to wallow in the mud. We chase after sin. We rebel. But when we repent—when we confess our sins—we are simply returning to our baptisms. We are coming home. We are putting the white robe of righteousness back on. We are standing again in the forgiveness of sins that we were given at the font.

Martin Luther, in the Small Catechism, reminds us that baptism means that the old Adam in us should be drowned daily by contrition and repentance. This means that every day, your Christian life is a return to the waters of baptism. Daily your sins are drowned and daily you are raised up, because of your Baptism.

Listen to the good news: you are always baptized, which means that this baptismal forgiveness does not run dry. It doesn’t fade with time. It doesn’t crack with age. It is as fresh and powerful today as the day it was poured over you in the name of the Triune God.

So, today, you are safe in the holy ark of the Christian Church. You are not merely someone who was baptized. You are someone who is baptized.

Christ was baptized in the Jordan River that day long ago to sanctify and institute baptism for you – so that through the Water and the Word, you might have a lavish washing away of sins, as well as death-destroying and devil-defeating hope and assurance.

You are Baptized Saints—baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Why Christianity Is Not Comfortable

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 28 Jan 2026 13:57:00 +0000

Text: 1 Peter 4:12-19

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

The famous Irish Christian, C.S. Lewis, once said:

"I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity."

Now, what did Lewis mean by this?

Well, he meant exactly what he said:

Christianity is not comfortable.

But wait a moment! Are we not told by coffee mug slogans, social media memes, Hallmark cards, and popular television preachers that becoming a Christian gives you peace and joy? You know exactly what I am talking about. We have heard it time and again. As a Christian:

"Every morning God sends you a fresh supply of joy so that you can live the abundant life that God has for you." (Osteen)

And so, is this wrong? Are people misguided when they say that walking with God will result in joy and an abundant life?

Let’s flesh this out a bit; bear with me.

Let’s speak this quote to the martyrs of the New Testament and see how this quote and theology hold up.

Take the Apostle Matthew. Church history tells us that Matthew went to Parthia and Ethiopia to proclaim the Gospel, only to be slain with a halberd in the city of Nadabah. Let us speak this quote to slain Matthew:

"Matthew, every morning God sends you a fresh supply of joy so that you can live the abundant life that God has for you!"

What about Mark and Luke? Mark was dragged to pieces by the people of Alexandria. Luke was hanged by idolatrous priests in Greece:

"Mark and Luke, every morning God sends you a fresh supply of joy so that you can live the abundant life that God has for you!"

The Apostles Paul and Peter? Paul gave his neck to the sword under Emperor Nero. Peter was crucified upside-down with his feet in the air.

"Paul and Peter, every morning God sends you a fresh supply of joy so that you can live the abundant life that God has for you!"

And what about Jesus — yes, Jesus Himself? When He was only several months old, King Herod attempted to murder Him. And then, thirty-some years later, He was flogged, beaten, spat upon, nailed to a wooden cross, and stabbed in the side.

"Jesus, every morning God sends you a fresh supply of joy so that you can live the abundant life that God has for you!"

Now, am I being a bit harsh? Yes, I am. But there is a reason. You see, the kind of Christianity that gets promoted on coffee mugs, memes, self-help books, and feel-good sermons is not the Christianity of the Bible. It is not the faith once delivered to the saints. It is a domesticated version of Christianity that sidesteps the cross and skips over suffering. It is a fantasy.

Dear friends, we are tragically misguided when we reduce the Christian life to a journey of achieving our dreams and feeling happy. We are in error when we think Christianity is primarily about emotional comfort. We are misguided when we tell someone to become a Christian because, in so doing, their life will become easy and smooth. We deceive people when we forget to tell them that one of the hallmark characteristics of Christianity is suffering. Yes, you heard that right — suffering.

Consider our epistle reading from 1 Peter. The Apostle Peter speaks about this clearly:

"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings."

There it is. Plain and simple. The Christian is not to be shocked when suffering, trials, and persecutions come their way. You are not to be alarmed when difficulties strike, as if this were out of the ordinary. No, dear Baptized Saints, suffering is normal. It is part of what it means to follow Jesus.

In fact, Peter tells us to rejoice in our sufferings because this suffering is a spiritual refining process. Suffering has a way of stripping away our self-sufficiency and pride. It drives us back to Jesus and His Word.

You see, we often hear people say,

"I want to be like Jesus. I want to walk in His footsteps."

This is commendable! However, are they ready for what that entails? Remember, to be like Jesus is not only to be kind, forgiving, and compassionate, but also to take up the cross of suffering.

Let’s be honest: Jesus was hated by the world. He was misunderstood, slandered, betrayed, beaten, and killed. And so, if we are united with Christ, why would we expect anything different?

The Apostles suffered. The early Christians suffered. The Church throughout history was persecuted. And yet, we have convinced ourselves that if we just follow a scripted Christian life, everything will be easy and comfortable. This is foolishness.

Now, perhaps you are thinking to yourself:

"I don't like this kind of Christianity. I would rather have the other version — the one with smiles, peace, and joy printed on coffee mugs."

Dear friends, please stop and hear me clearly: Christianity does offer peace and joy — but not as the world defines it. The peace and joy of Scripture are not emotional highs or tranquil feelings. They are deeper, richer, and more enduring. You see, in Christ, you have peace — real peace with God the Father. In Christ, your sins are forgiven. The wrath of God is turned away; you are reconciled. This is not a feeling that comes and goes. It is objective peace, anchored in the blood of Jesus.

And you have joy — not superficial giddiness, but the deep joy of belonging to Christ, even in suffering. Peter says in our epistle that we can rejoice in suffering because it unites us with Jesus, reminds us that this life is short, and points us forward to the glory that will be revealed at the last day.

We must clarify something, though. The suffering that Peter speaks about is not the suffering that comes from our own sin and stupidity. So often, we endure hardship and cry out, "Why is God doing this to me?" — when in fact, it is the consequence of our own sinful choices. That is not the suffering Peter is talking about.

No, Peter speaks of suffering that happens because of the name of Christ. When Peter talks about suffering, it is the kind of suffering that comes from a raging world that persecutes you for resting, proclaiming, and abiding in the Gospel.

Please listen up! Every generation has seen Christians slandered and hated because of the Gospel. The Word of God divides. It comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. When the Word of God is proclaimed, people will divide into two camps: some will receive it in faith, and others will be offended by it.

And here is the sad reality: those who are offended by the Word of God will often take it out on those who believe it. They will insult. They will exclude. They will persecute. And so, the Church is never at peace in this world. The Church is always under pressure, always under attack, always pressed down but not destroyed. And the same is true for you, as a Christian. There will always be friction. There will always be a cross. And yet, you are not alone.

Hear this: if you are insulted for the name of Christ, do not be surprised. Do not give it a second thought. Be proud to be insulted like Jesus. Rejoice that you are counted worthy to suffer for Jesus’ name. When you are mocked at school, overlooked at work, whispered about at family gatherings, or labeled narrow-minded by the culture because of Christ and His Gospel — do not be alarmed.

Expect it. Learn to expect it.

Know that this world wants to crush the Church and silence Christians. But also know this: the Lord will preserve you, just as He preserved Matthew, Mark, Luke, Paul, Peter, and every Christian before you. He will uphold you, strengthen you, and sanctify you. He will not abandon you. He will not forsake you.

And know this: whatever suffering you endure, it will not be wasted. The Lord will use it for your good or the good of others. He will use it to dislodge your comfort from the world and fix your eyes beyond this vale of tears.

So, take heart, dear Baptized Saints. Lift your eyes to the cross. See the One who suffered for you, who bled for you, who bore your sin and shame. In Him, you are secure.

The world may rage, but Christ is your peace. The culture may shift, but Christ is your rock. The suffering may come, but Christ is your joy.

Remain steadfast. Cling to the Word. Receive the Sacraments. Find refuge in the ark of His Holy Christian Church. And trust this: you will endure. Not because you are strong, but because Christ is faithful.

He will never leave you nor forsake you.

He will be with you in the fiery trials.

And on the Last Day, He will lift you from the grave into eternal glory.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Harmony In Christ, Not In Our Sameness

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 21 Jan 2026 16:48:00 +0000

Text: Romans 15:4-13

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

We, humans, are deeply wired for community. We need someone to listen to us, to see us, laugh with us, and cry with us. We aren’t designed to be islands unto ourselves. And when we are isolated, we will go to great lengths to fill that void.

Now, since this need for community is deeply embedded in all of us, it makes sense that Christians would be called together into a community, called the Church. But keep in mind, though, the Church is not a random collection of individuals who happen to show up at the same place for an hour on Sunday morning. No, the Church is a communion. A fellowship. A gathering of baptized believers, knit together in Christ, gathered around the Word and Sacrament.

Yet, while this is true, we Christians still do something strange. We like to group up according to our own preferences. We seek out the familiar: people who look like us, talk like us, vote like us, and live like us.

But dear friends, Christ’s Church does not work that way. When Jesus stretched out His arms on the cross, He didn’t just die for the people of His own race, background, or tribe. He died for all. This is why our Epistle reading from Romans says:

“Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.”

That is to say, you were welcomed by Christ—not because you earned it, not because you were the same as Jesus, not because you had anything to offer. You were welcomed in your sin, welcomed in your weakness, welcomed in your rebellion. That Christmas long ago, Jesus came to humanity so that He might make it possible for you to be welcomed before God the Father. That is grace; that is love; that is the Gospel.

And so, the Church can never be exclusive based on sociological or cultural preferences. The blood of Christ has gathered us from every tribe and language and nation.

Listen up; here at St. Paul’s Lutheran, we are not built on shared hobbies, matching politics, or similar tax brackets. If we were, it would not only be unwise but also anti-Gospel. It would deny the power of Christ’s blood to unite what the world keeps divided.

As we heard this last Wednesday, Paul hits this point in Galatians 3:28, saying,

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

In other words, Paul is not talking about civil rights or modern-day equality. This is not about flattening society or denying the differences God has created. No, Paul is making a much deeper theological point: none of these categories matter when it comes to justification. None of these categories earns you a spot at the Table. None of these groups contributes even an ounce to your forgiveness. You are saved by grace, through faith, in Christ alone—period.

So, this begs the question: what happens when you bring all these different people into one Church? What happens when you baptize the rich and poor, the educated and uneducated, the young and old at the same font? What happens when you serve the Body and Blood of Jesus to farmers and bankers and mechanics and teachers and stay-at-home moms and teenagers? Well, quite simply you get the Church — the real Church. Not a uniform social club, but a communion of saints, united not by hobbies or politics or economics, but by the blood of Christ.

And here’s the beauty: in that Church, we are not called to live in self-service.

Immediately before our Epistle Reading from today, we hear in Romans 15:1-2:

“We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.”

Obviously, you are here at St. Paul’s Lutheran primarily to be receivers – to receive from Christ’s gifts of Word and Sacrament. But beyond that - let me say this as gently as possible – as a Christian, in the Church, your goal is not to be pleased. Instead, you are here to please your neighbor.

Now, this idea of "pleasing your neighbor" can go terribly wrong if we misunderstand it. Let me explain. Way too often, churches begin to operate like businesses:

“The customer is always right!”

But the church is not a business. The customer is not always right in the Church—because in the Church, we are all simultaneously saints and sinners. And the sinner in us is most certainly not right. To please your neighbor does not mean giving them a spiritual lollipop to appease their old Adam. It does not mean caving in to sinful desires to avoid conflict. That’s not love; that’s cowardice. That’s not edifying; that’s enabling.

Instead, to please your neighbor means to serve their ultimate good—their eternal good. It means to bear with their weaknesses. To support them in their trials. To point them back to Christ and build them up in Christ again and again… This kind of neighbor-pleasing takes on a thousand forms depending on vocation.

Let me give some godly examples:

Pastors please their neighbor by preaching Law and Gospel, rightly dividing the Word of Truth, administering the Sacraments faithfully.

Elders, please their neighbors by making sure the Divine Services are organized and ensuring that sound doctrine permeates from the sanctuary and bible studies, so that their neighbors would know the truth of the Word.

Trustees, please their neighbor by making sure the boiler works and the lights are on so that the Gospel can be heard and received by their neighbors without distraction.

The Altar Circle pleases their neighbor by reverently preparing the candles, filling the vessels and containers that carry Christ’s Body and Blood for their neighbor’s forgiveness of sins.

Sunday school teachers and LYF leaders please their neighbor by catechizing children in the faith, so that their neighbors may grow in the knowledge of Christ and His gifts.

The choir pleases their neighbors by singing the Gospel into their neighbors’ ears.

The servant teams please their neighbors by preparing food for grieving families during funerals.

The finance team keeps a watch on the dollars and cents, trying to stretch their neighbors’ contributions to cover the cost of the Gospel.

We could go on and on and on. These are just a few examples. But as you can see, each of these callings works to build up their neighbor in Christ.

It should be stated, though, that not everyone is called to be a pastor. Not everyone is gifted for music. Not everyone has a discerning eye for theology or can fix a boiler. And that’s okay! The Church is a body with many parts. Each part serves the neighbor in its own way with an eye to the Gospel. All vocations in the church lead to the Gospel – lead to the end of Christ’s Word and Sacraments. This is what harmony looks like and acts like.

But what about disharmony? Let’s be clear:

Disharmony arises when we think that unity comes through cultural or social sameness, rather than through Christ alone.

Disharmony arises when we seek to please ourselves instead of our neighbor - when the Church becomes about our preferences, our comfort, our entertainment rather than the Gospel.

Disharmony arises when we cave into sinful desires instead of working for the good of our neighbor’s salvation.

Disharmony arises when we neglect the calling God has given us and try to control callings He has given to others.

But harmony—real harmony—happens when we understand that our unity is in Christ. When we live out our vocations, not for ourselves, but for the good of our neighbor, always pointing them to Christ.

Listen again to what our Epistle reading says,

“May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Did you catch that? God grants harmony. It is His work. We do not build harmony; we receive it. We don’t fabricate unity; we are given unity in Christ. And in that unity, with one voice—rich and poor, young and old, Jew and Gentile, black and white, male and female—we glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Dear Baptized Saints, our harmony at St. Paul’s Lutheran is not artificial. It is not manufactured. It is given. Christ has welcomed you to this church. He has bled for you. He has baptized you. He feeds you with His own Body and Blood. And He has placed you into this community where you are called, not to please yourself, but to serve your neighbor by helping them receive Christ and being built up in Christ.

So, let us reject the false unity of worldly sameness. Let us resist the urge to please ourselves. Let us deny the temptation to appease sin. And let us rejoice in our vocations and build one another up in the Gospel. Let all of our vocations, our unity, our efforts towards one another point to Christ and His gifts, because in Christ we have harmony. This is what the real church is about: harmony with one another in accordance with Christ!

In the name of Jesus – our harmony and unity - amen.

A Message For Delinquents: Skipping Church Is Starving Your Faith

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 14 Jan 2026 13:35:00 +0000

Text: Matthew 25:1-13

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

This morning, I need to warn you that you will be very uncomfortable with this sermon and the Gospel reading from Matthew. That is right, this sermon will not tickle your ears, and it will not give you warm, cuddly feelings. Instead, the reading from Matthew and this sermon should wake you up; it should make you squirm and think.

So let's get right to it.

Christians should rightly understand that those who trust in Christ, rest in Christ, and receive good gifts from Christ are assured of inheriting eternal life. Think of John 3:16:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."

But we must also keep in mind what Jesus goes on to say. He also says,

"Those who do not believe are condemned already."

And so, what this means is that people who reject the church and do not believe the Gospel of Jesus Christ are outside His forgiving grace. Indeed, pagan unbelievers will not inherit eternal life but instead will inherit eternal damnation. Hell.

Now, some Americans will not like hearing that. Saying that unbelievers will go to hell is too extreme or too radical for them. However, as you have already heard, it is clearly taught by Jesus. There is no way around it. And so, pagans who never darken the door of the church and reject Christ will tragically not be recipients of eternal life in Christ Jesus.

Now, let me make this a bit more uncomfortable for you.

What about people who are members of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church but never come? What about the delinquents of our church?

Several times a year, the Elders and I sit down and go over the membership roster of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. We identify members who haven’t attended for quite some time. In some cases, we find out they’ve moved or are homebound and need to be added to the shut-in list. But more often than not, when we reach out to these members, we hear something like,

“I’d like to continue to be a member, but I’ve been really busy. But my faith is actually fine.”

Now, I get it. People are busy these days. However, at the same time, I don’t buy it—and neither should you. We have approximately 175 services a year—that’s 350 services over two years, and yet a person can’t make it to even one service? I don’t buy it — and neither should you.

But many will protest and say,

“You don’t have to go to church to be a Christian; you just need faith.”

Yes, that is partially true. Faith is the key. And that is exactly the concern from the reading in the Gospel of Matthew.

In our Gospel reading from Matthew, we heard about ten virgins who had lamps and flasks intended for oil. But keep this in mind: these lamps that are spoken of do not contain enough oil to burn through the night. They needed extra oil to keep burning. Now, as we heard, the five wise virgins brought extra oil. But the other five? They didn’t think they needed any extra oil.

So, what’s the point?

The point is that the foolish virgins became sleepy. They weren’t serious about their faith. They began to believe that they could do spirituality on their own. They became secure in themselves, saying,

“We don’t need extra oil—we’re fine just the way we are.”

These foolish virgins followed their own minds; they would not be taught and accepted no opinion but their own.

Let’s pause here and make this really easy to understand: you can’t create your own faith. You cannot sustain your own faith. You can’t strengthen your faith by your own works. When it mattered most, the five foolish virgins could not create oil out of thin air. They needed to obtain oil to keep their lamps burning. And so do we.

Dear friends, when someone is baptized, catechized, taught the faith, and receives the Lord’s Supper, they are indeed a Christian. They are a burning lamp, for faith is created by the Word of Christ. But keep in mind that those lamps need to keep burning – they need oil. Faith needs to be sustained and strengthened. Without the Gospel and Sacraments, faith grows weak. It shrivels. It becomes choked like a seed in thorny soil – it dies and turns into unbelief. Again, this is why the Elders and I want delinquent members to return to St. Paul’s Lutheran — we want them to have plenty of oil. We want their faith strengthened. We want their lamps to burn brightly. We want them to be ready for the wedding banquet, so they are not left out of the wedding banquet to hear the words of Jesus on the last day:

“Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”

Truth be told though, when the Elders and I reach out to delinquent members, the response we often get is:

“Don’t be judgmental; my faith is just fine! Are you kicking me out of the church?”

I am fearful that many of these delinquents are just like those foolish virgins, thinking they are fine, but in reality, they are without oil.

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy on them, and us too.

Dear friends, it would be simple if you and I were given a lamp and didn’t need oil. But that is not how Christianity works. We need oil every single week. We need it every single day. The reason why? Because we do not depend on ourselves. We cannot create faith by our own works. We cannot keep the lamp burning by our own spiritual enthusiasm. Faith separated from the Word and Sacraments is not real faith but a counterfeit faith. The oil flasks must be filled by the Word and Sacraments. For every Christian, faith must be created, sustained, and strengthened by God’s gifts of Word and Sacrament, for apart from the Word and Sacraments, the oil runs dry – plain and simple.

Now, in case this hasn’t been uncomfortable enough, let me raise the bar once more.

It is entirely possible for someone to come to this church week after week and still not have oil.

But how is that possible?

Dear friends, listen up! Simply attending church does not mean one is a Christian. A person can tithe, sit in the pew, and serve on church boards — but if their ears are closed to the Word and Sacrament, if their heart is hard to the Gospel, then they are no different than a pagan. Think about it: standing in a barn without a pitchfork doesn’t make you a farmer. Walking across a baseball field without a glove doesn’t make you a major leaguer. Sitting in a pew without faith doesn’t make you a Christian.

Listen up: the end is coming soon. In a very short time, you will either be dead in the grave or Christ will return to usher in the Last Day. And when that day comes, every person will stand or fall on their own faith. Not the faith of your pastor. Not the faith of your parents. Not the faith of your spouse. Not the faith of your church or denomination. Your faith.

And the tragic, terrible reality is that those who have no oil—no faith—have brought it upon themselves. They have excluded themselves from the wedding banquet of the Lamb. They have foolishly believed that church membership on a roster, their supposed good works, or some outward appearance will be an adequate substitute for saving faith. Lord, have mercy!

But pastor, you may say, I don’t want to be excluded! I need oil!

Thanks be to God—you’re in the right place. You and I do need oil!

Yes, we all need oil. We all need faith. And this faith is not something you and I can manufacture. Faith is not self-generated; instead, it comes by hearing the Gospel. Faith is grounded in the hope of our Baptisms. It comes by hearing the Word of Christ, and it is strengthened every single week at this Altar.

And so, today, like every Sunday, your faith is being strengthened here at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church.

This is why we have weekly communion, this is why we have sermons each week based on the historic lectionary, this is why we sing the songs we do from our hymnal, this is why we have weekly Bible studies from the Word, this is why we confess our sins and hear the absolution. Hear this loud and clear: this church exists for the sole purpose of immersing you in the Gospel. This church exists to pour forgiveness into your ears - to lay it on your tongue, so that you are never lacking oil.

Baptized Saints, in Holy Baptism, your faith is established – you are marked as one of the redeemed. In the Word, you are rooted in good doctrine – the Word sanctifies you in Truth. In the Supper, you are built up and strengthened – your sins are forgiven. All of this is so that you may have abundant oil today, tomorrow, and to the very end.

Baptized Saints, receive the gifts of Christ often, so that your lamp may burn brightly until your final breath—or until Christ returns to bring you home.

Keep awake, Baptized Saints – always receiving the gifts of Jesus that are for you.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

God’s Word Shows Up In A Manger

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Wed, 07 Jan 2026 14:35:00 +0000

Text: John 1:1-14

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

In confirmation class, we ask a question. It’s one of the basic questions. A foundational one. “How was the world and all things in it created?” And the answer is not, “The Big Bang.” It is not “Millions of years of evolutionary chance.” It is not, “Through natural selection.” No, the answer is quite simple. The answer is this: “Through and by the Spoken Word.”

Yes—the world was created by the Spoken Word.

When we say that we and all things were created by the Word, we are saying something very important. We are saying that God’s Word is powerful. It does things. It works. It acts. God’s Word is not just information. It is not commentary. It is not God standing on the sidelines explaining what is happening. When God speaks, things happen.

And so, when God speaks, He is not merely describing how things are. Rather, when God speaks, He calls into existence new realities. That is right. When God spoke at the very beginning, His Word called creation into existence. This means that the world did not create itself. Something external had to act. Something outside of creation had to bring it into being. And that “something” is the spoken Word of God.

The Word spoke, and the world was created. And the Word spoke again—and the world was declared good.

Now, fast-forward several thousand years to John chapter 1—our Gospel reading for Christmas Day.

The Apostle John says that the Word became flesh.

But what does that mean?

Well, let’s not overthink it. The Word at creation is the Christ who came to save us by His life, death, and resurrection. That is right, the Word of Creation takes on flesh and acts as a man.

Let me repeat myself, to make sure we are hearing this clearly: the spoken Word that was in the beginning creating everything—that voice, that speech—it is the same Word, the same voice, that comes and puts on flesh in the man Jesus Christ. Indeed, the speech and voice of God put on flesh. God’s Word shows up in a manger.

Now don’t zone out. Don’t tell yourself this is too philosophical or too theological. This is not advanced material. This is Christianity 101. This is basic stuff that we teach to our confirmation students. This matters. Listen up. Pay attention.

When you read the words of God in creation, when you read the words of wisdom in Proverbs, when you hear God’s Word in the Old Testament—that Word, all of that Word, is the same voice that we will hear coming from the manger. That is to say; what was spoken eternally was spoken by Jesus. What was spoken at creation was spoken by Jesus. What was spoken in the Old Testament was spoken by Jesus.

And so, mark this: Jesus is not only the center of Scripture, but as God’s eternal Word, He is the author of all Scripture.

So what’s the point? The point is quite clear. The Word that created the world is the same Word that was laid in that manger – it is the same Word that we hear in the person of Jesus.

It is beginning to make sense – right?

Nature – the wind and the waves - listened to Jesus when He spoke because nature was listening to the same Word that created it.

It also makes sense why blindness, deafness, diseases, death, and demons listened to Jesus. They were listening to the One who created the whole cosmos.

But let’s drive this home further. Why does this matter to you and me right now at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church?

So far, this might sound like an interesting theological lesson. But dear friends, it matters because of what Jesus says about forgiveness.

Remember the cross. I know—we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves. It’s Christmas Day. The manger is still right there. But we cannot separate the manger from the cross.

If the Babe lying in the manger is the Word who put on flesh—and He is—then that same Word in the flesh goes to the cross to die for sin. And what does He say at the cross? He says,

“It is finished.”

Think about that. The Word that created the world said from the cross,

“It is finished.”

The Word that spoke authority over nature, disease, death, and demons said,

“It is finished.”

What is finished? All of it. Sin. Death. God’s wrath. All of it. Finished. For you!

And because this is the Word who always does what He says, that Word can be trusted. When the Word in the flesh speaks from the cross, it is done.

Oh, but let’s not stop there. Let’s press this a bit further.

Listen up: that Word who put on flesh has called His Church to speak the same Word. Yes, the Word that spoke creation into existence and the Word that spoke forgiveness from the cross now speaks through the means of His Church.

That is to say, right here—in this church—we have the same effective, powerful, bullet Word that does stuff.

And how has Jesus told His Church to speak His Word?

He has told His Church to preach His Word of Law, so that your sin would be exposed and you would be convicted. And He has told His Church to preach His Word of the Gospel, so that you might hear the good news and faith would be created.

He has told His Church to baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, for the forgiveness of sins. He has attached His Word to ordinary water so that through the water and the Word, you would be marked as one redeemed by Christ the Crucified.

He has told pastors to speak the words of absolution to the sorrowful. He has put His Word on the lips of frail and ordinary pastors:

“In the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins.”

He has told His Church to administer the Holy Supper – attaching His Word to simple Bread and Wine:

Take, eat; this is my body which is for you.

Take, drink; this cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you for the forgiveness of sins.

Please hear this. The same Word that was present at creation, the same Word that lay in the manger, the same Word that hung from the cross, the same Word that is seated at the right hand of the Father—that same Word is present here in this sanctuary before you.

That same Word is present in the Scriptures that are read - for you.

That same Word is present in the water at this font - for you.

That same Word is present in the words of absolution - for you.

That same Word is present in the bread and wine at this altar – for you.

The Word is still present with His Church in His Holy Scriptures and His Holy Sacraments – for you.

And so, be of good cheer, dear Baptized Saints, the Word has not left us at St. Paul’s Lutheran. We have the Word. And the Word of God is the power of salvation—for this Church and for each Christian here today.

Merry Christmas. The Word put on flesh and blood for you.

In the name of Jesus: Amen.

How To Kill Lutheranism: Just Change The Worship

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Sat, 03 Jan 2026 00:14:00 +0000

Rev. Will Weedon recently shared the following online from Dr. Joseph Herl of Concordia University, Seward, regarding Johann Georg:

"... the year was 1616. Johann Georg, Margrave of Brandenburg, converted to Calvinism and sought to enforce Calvinism on his very Lutheran territory. What changes did he demand?

All images are to be removed from the Church and sent to the court.
The stone altar is to be ripped from the ground and replaced with a wooden table.
When the Lord's Supper is held, a white cloth covers the table.
All altars, crucifixes, and panels are to be completely abolished.
Instead of the host, bread is to be baked into loaves, cut into strips, and put in a dish from which the people receive it in their hands; likewise, the chalice is received by the people with their hands.
The words of the Supper are no longer to be sung, but rather spoken.
The golden chalice is to be replaced by a wooden one.
The prayer in the place of the collect is to be spoken, not sung.
Mass vestments and other finery no longer used.
No lamps and candles are to be placed upon the altar.
The houseling cloth is not to be held in front of the communicants.
The people are not to bow as if Christ were present.
The communicants shall no longer kneel.
The sign of the cross after the benediction is to be discontinued.
The priest is no longer to stand with his back to the people.
The Collect and Epistle are no longer to be sung, but spoken.
Individuals are no longer to go to confession before communing, but rather register with the priest in writing.
The people are no longer to bow when the name of JESUS is mentioned, nor are they to remove their hats.
The Our Father is no longer to be prayed aloud before the sermon, but rather, there is to be silent prayer.
Communion is not to be taken to the sick, as it is dangerous, especially in times of pestilence.
The stone baptismal font is to be removed and a basin substituted.
Epitaphs and crucifixes are no longer to be tolerated in the Church.
The Holy Trinity is not to be depicted in any visual form.
The words of the sacrament are to be altered and considered symbolic.
The historic Epistles and Gospels are no longer used, but rather a selection of the Bible by the minister, read without commentary." [1]

It is quite obvious that Johann Georg's changes were not neutral They weren't random stylistic updates or mere cultural adjustments They were surgical strikes—liturgical and theological moves designed to strip Lutheran theology and align the churches of his territories to Calvinist norms Dr. Herl nailed it: Johann Georg believed that the only way to root out Lutheran doctrine was to change Lutheran worship—to get rid of worship that confessed in action what Lutherans believed in their hearts.[2]

What can we learn from this, though?

First, examining what Johann Georg abolished, removed, and reformed helps us understand what the Lutheran Church was actually like in the 1500s In other words, Georg's removal of crucifixes, chanting, stone altars, reverence at the name of Jesus, kneeling for communion, and even private confession (to name a few) shows that the early Lutheran Church was not embarrassed by ceremony The Lutheran Reformers did not avoid the beauty of liturgy or reverence out of fear of "looking too Catholic." No, they understood that worship practices confess doctrine. They knew that reverence wasn't optional—it was an extension of faith.

Second, Johann Georg's removal of chanting and the stripping away of liturgical furniture most certainly weakened the sanctuary's sacred spaces, making the sacred appear more like the common.

Third, the piety of the laity was stripped away. The removal of bowing, for instance, erased bodily catechesis. That is to say, bowing is a physical confession of faith. Without these physical confessions of faith, worship can become internalized, individualized, and emotionally driven. When posture no longer teaches, the piety of the laity resorts to internalized feelings of the heart.

Fourth, the Sacraments were substantially reduced and diminished. This wasn't a minor adjustment. It was a theological decapitation. The very heart of Lutheran worship—the second half of the Small Catechism—was undermined. Alas, when the Sacraments go, not only is assurance displaced but Lutheranism ceases to exist.

This begs the question:

What does it say when Lutheran churches today voluntarily do the very things Johann Georg forced on the Lutheran Church in the 1600s?

What does it say when Lutheran worship today looks more Calvinist than Lutheran?

Yes, theology most certainly shapes practice. But we must also recognize this: our actions, ceremonies, and liturgical habits teach. They shape how we think, believe, and confess. In other words, practice is not neutral—as already stated above. Practices carry theological weight. They are not a blank canvas we're free to paint over however we wish. Every practice—every posture, every song, every rite—either reinforces the truth or introduces error.

This is why the Lutheran Church must not only preserve sound doctrine but also the sound practices of the Lutheran faith. Let us not be so naive as to think the Lutheran Church can adopt Reformed or Evangelical practices without compromising Lutheran doctrine. Let us not be so naive as to think that doctrine and practice are not joined at the hip.

Mark this well: To confess rightly, we must worship rightly To worship rightly, we must believe rightly Anything less, and we're not just rearranging furniture—we're undermining the theological foundation of the Lutheran Church.

So, guard Lutheran practice Guard Lutheran doctrine.

Because in the end, it's all one confession.

[1] Joseph Herl, Worship Wars in Early Lutheranism: Choir, Congregation, and Three Centuries of Conflict (Oxford University Press, 2004), 111, referenced in a Twitter post by Rev. Will Weedon (12-30-25)

[2] Ibid, passim.

Christmas In The Dirt - For You

noreply@blogger.com (Rev. Dr. Matthew Richard) — Fri, 02 Jan 2026 08:15:00 +0000

In the name of Jesus: Amen.

No event in the history of the world has been so celebrated as the birth of Jesus. Christmas is the single largest economic event of the year worldwide, both in spending and in impact. Yes, this evening around the world, billions of people gather together to sing songs, exchange gifts, and celebrate the birth of Jesus. Christmas trees have been put up, gifts have been wrapped, songs have been sung, Christmas cookies have been made, and lights shine—all because of the Babe who was born in Bethlehem.

However, in spite of all of these dramatic displays of Christmas around us, Luke in his Gospel gives us a picture of Christmas that is little bit different than what we have assumed about Christmas. That is to say, Luke tells us the Christmas story in a most unspectacular fashion.

Indulge me for a moment!

According to the Gospel of Luke, Mary and Joseph must have been very poor, not rich. And, we can also assume they were very anxious, not calm – the reason being, Mary was not giving birth in a clean room with warm water, soft blankets, and medical care. Instead, she was far from home, exhausted from travel, and very pregnant.

Let’s consider the circumstances a bit more.

When they arrived in Bethlehem for the census, the town was swollen with people - crowded, noisy, and chaotic. This resulted in there being no room in the inn for them. No guest room. No spare bed. No place where a woman in labor would reasonably be welcomed.

As a result, they found a cave most likely behind someone’s home—a rough, dark place used to shelter livestock. The ground was hard. The air was thick with the smell of animals, hay, and manure. This was not a silent night in the way we imagine it. Animals shifted, snorted, and breathed heavily. And there, in that dirty cave, among animals and filth, with no midwife and no comfort, Jesus was born.

And get this, Jesus was born as all babies are born—small, vulnerable, and needing to be cleaned. After being wrapped, Jesus was laid in a manger, which was not a decorative wooden box but a feeding trough with splinters and the slobber of cattle.

And so, that night, a baby boy was born. And there was no crowd, no celebration, no applause. The only people who were present were Mary and Joseph.

So, considering this most unspectacular and humble story of Jesus’ birth, why are we so attracted to this story?

It would make sense to be intrigued and captivated by this story if Jesus had been born in Rome, which was the capital of the Roman Empire at that time. It would make sense to be gripped by the story of Jesus’ birth if He had been born in some spectacular golden palace with trumpets and fiery torches!

But a dirty cave?

A feeding trough crusted from animal use?

The smell of sweat, blood, hay, and manure?

Seriously, why on earth do we celebrate this unspectacular and humble story?

Why do we have so much glory tied up in such miserable, uncomfortable, and unimpressive circumstances in a tiny, dumpy town?

And to make matters even more unusual, the first message of Jesus’ birth was not delivered to princes and powerful people; rather, the angels went and looked down to the lowest of people—shepherds. These shepherds were men who smelled like their sheep. They were men who slept outdoors. Men who were dirty and tired. Yes, the angels did not go to proclaim this message to the high priests or the educated elites in the cities, but went out into the countryside to dumpy and dusty shepherds doing the night shift.

It is as if this story and the circumstances of Jesus’ birth intentionally ignored what was high and mighty and impressive. It was as if the birth of Jesus deliberately bypassed the splendor, polish, and power of the world.

Dear friends, that is precisely what is going on here. The birth of Jesus turns away from what we humans deem to be impressive, valuable, and worthy. God does not arrive protected from the mess of human life. He arrives right in the middle of it. But if this is true, why then do we celebrate such an unspectacular and humble story in such dramatic and bold ways?

It is quite simple. We celebrate and honor the story of Jesus’ birth because it is the story of God turning toward sinful humanity.

Listen up. The story of Christianity is the story of the Son of God descending, not hovering above us, but sinking Himself into the middle of real human life — into dirt, sweat, blood, weakness, and need. It is the story of the Son of God putting on real flesh and real bone, coming in humility—coming so low, so ordinary, and so accessible that no burdened sinner would ever think that Jesus was too distant for them.

You see, we humans seek greatness by racing around like madmen, reaching to useless heights of honor and prestige. We try to climb upward toward supposed glory. We want to be king of the hill, top dog, and on the A-squad. We want to be the first-round pick, on the starting lineup, and part of the in-crowd. However, God completely ignores what is high and lofty according to the world. We see this most clearly at Christmas when the birth of Jesus bypasses all loftiness and plunges downward, so low that the Savior will never be out of reach of anyone.

Dear friends, the birth of Jesus is the birth of the Messiah for every single lowly sinner in this world. And that is why no event in the history of the world has been so celebrated as the birth of Jesus.

Hear the good news of Christmas, dear friends: Christmas is the story of the Savior being born to save us sinners. There in the cave, in the manger, lay the hope of the world. There in Bethlehem was the light breaking into a world darkened by sin. There, wrapped in cloths and lying in an animal feeding trough, was salvation for sinners—victory over death, hope of the resurrection, and life for the dying. Yes, in that dark and uncomfortable place, the Kingdom of God came to earth.

This message should humble and excite you. It should humble you because Christmas is for sinners only. Do not be so foolish as to presume that you are not a sinner, for that would eliminate you from the joy of Christmas. And secondly, the message of Christmas should fill you with joy. Jesus came not because our lives are put together, but because our lives are not. The gift of Christmas tells us that the Son of God came into the real world, into real suffering, to grant real forgiveness, and real eternal life – for real people like you and me.

Dear friends, the Christ was born to you in the midst of those unspectacular circumstances long ago. And that is why we are here tonight. Yes, we are here because Christ Jesus the Lord was born for you to be your Savior. He was born for you—in your world, into your mess, and for your sin. Nothing is surer than that. You have it on the highest authority.

He was born for you to live the life that you could not live.

He was born for you to carry your weakness in His own body.

He was born for you to die the death that you could not die.

He was born for you to forgive your sins, to rescue you from death, and to give you eternal life.

And so tonight, we give glory to God for the simple, humble, gritty message of Christmas. This is not a polished, sentimental story for people who have it all together. This is good news for sinners. Even if you are grieving, even if you are sick, lonely, exhausted, depressed, or ashamed—especially if your sin feels too deep, too dark, too ingrained—do not despair. Do not despair, because Christmas is God breaking into the mess. The Son of God does not stand at a safe distance; He descends. He puts Himself right into the depths of this broken, chaotic, and sinful world to be your Savior.

And as your Savior, He does not sell you salvation but hands it to you freely, as a gift – purchased and won at the cross for you. Full, finished, and complete forgiveness of sins from the babe in the manger who went to the cross for you.

Dear friends, we celebrate and rejoice tonight and tomorrow with all the festivities because Christ came to you and me. He came in the flesh, in the dirt, and to the cross and unto the resurrection… never to leave you nor forsake you but to be with you and me to the very end of the age.

Merry Christmas. Amen.