[Twenty-Sixth in a series of posts on church words]
Encore Post:
“You won’t die,” hissed the snake. So, what could it hurt? So Eve and then Adam ate the fruit. What they didn’t realize is they had ruined everything. In effect, they told God they knew better than him. They built a wall between God and us. But that was not all. They built walls between them and set their descendants up for constant warfare in one form or another forever. And, it turns out, God was right. Cut yourself off from the source of life, and you die. Slowly, but surely, your body wears out. Creation itself tries to kill you, and everything lives for itself and nothing else. Thorns infest the ground.
When two people are angry with each other, someone has to bring them together. Often it is an apology sealed with a small sacrifice, — one man buying his angry friend a beer, a husband bringing flowers to his wife or other sign of giving a part of themselves to reconcile. The bigger the breach, the more dramatic the sacrifice. An employee resigns to save the company and restore faith in it. A child works off the cost of the window her softball broke.
God told us from the beginning what the sacrifice must be. A holy God cannot live with a sinful, selfish being. To be reconciled to God means to die. Yet God loved us from before he made the world and does not want sinners to die. So God himself provided the sacrifice to bring about at-one-ment — atonement. First, it would be prize lambs or other livestock that would be hurt for a shepherd to lose. Yet that would never really do. So his people still die.
It would take the sacrifice of a sinless human life to bring God and his children back together. Yet they are in short supply — all humans are born sinful. And God himself is sinless — but he cannot die — or so it seems. God in his grace decided to redeem us with the sacrifice of his Son — his only Son– whom he loved. This is not divine child abuse as the atheists charge because God is the Holy Trinity. When the Son of God died, God sacrificed himself. So, the Eternal Son, the author of life, became a man in the womb of the Virgin Mary. When he died on the cross for us, he saved us with his own blood. The curtain of the Holy of Holies tore from top to bottom, and the walls between us came tumbling down.
Now we are at one with God. In every Divine Service, the Lord Jesus seals the New Covenant in his blood. He gives us his body to eat with the bread and his blood to drink with the wine. It is a down payment on the Marriage Feast of the Lamb, which we will join all too soon. Then, fully reconciled with God, we will live with him forever.
Commemoration of Friedrich Wyneken, Pastor and Missionary
Kramer Chapel
May 4, 2020
Text:
“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light…” (1 Peter 2:9–12)
Introduction
One hundred and eighty‑two years ago, a dense forest stretched from the Great Lakes west to the Illinois prairie and south to the Ohio River Valley. The frontier was a cathedral of towering oaks, sycamores, elms, maples, chestnuts, pines, and cedars. Even young banker Hugh McCulloch was moved to awe at the sight.
Into this wilderness poured thousands—soon tens of thousands—of Germans and Irish, drawn by the promise of fertile land where a man might carve out a farmstead and leave a heritage to his children. They found hard work in a hard climate. They found isolation. The bush might keep you from knowing you even had neighbors… No church bells would call you to worship in non‑existent churches.
The settlers came. Pastors, by and large, did not.
Even when a congregation was blessed with a servant of the Word, tragedy often struck. In Fort Wayne, St. Paul’s Lutheran Congregation mourned the death of its young German‑American pastor. Elder Adam Wesel wrote to the Pennsylvania Ministerium on June 4:
“If you canvass the northern part of Indiana, you will soon see how important it is that you send us a faithful shepherd… If it is not possible to send us a pastor, dear brothers, then send us a circuit rider. We hunger and thirst for the Word of God.”
God heard their prayer.
Three days before their pastor died, Friedrich Wyneken set sail for Baltimore on the Brig Apollo. As Wesel’s letter arrived in Pennsylvania, Wyneken presented himself to the mission society, ready to receive a call. They sent him to gather the scattered German Protestants of Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan. And he did.
“Called Out of Darkness Into His Marvelous Light”
(1 Peter 2:9)
Peter’s words fit Wyneken’s world—and yours.
“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession” (1 Peter 2:9). God called Wyneken out of darkness into His marvelous light, and through him God called thousands more.
And now, God calls you.
As God’s people prayed for a pastor then, so they do now. As God answered their prayer, sending Wyneken, so he answers their prayer and sends you.
You bear the same call Wyneken bore. You preach the same Gospel. You administer the same Baptism (Matthew 28:19). You grant the same Absolution (John 20:23). You celebrate the same Supper (1 Corinthians 11:23–26).
The office is the same. The Christ is the same. The mercy is the same.
“Sojourners and Exiles” (1 Peter 2:11)
Yet the world into which you are sent is no less foreign than Wyneken’s frontier.
While a remnant of Christian America remains, we live in a pagan culture. The fear of death drives the world’s actions (Hebrews 2:15). What little they know of Jesus or His Church is often a caricature.
Peter’s counsel is sound:
“Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Peter 2:11).
And again:
“Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable” (1 Peter 2:12).
You are not sent to win arguments. You are sent to bear Christ.
Let them see your good works—not to glorify you, but “to glorify God on the day of visitation. (1 Peter 2:12).
Never Alone
“We are founded on the living cornerstone, chosen and precious” (1 Peter 2:4). “We are not redeemed with silver or gold, but with His precious blood” (1 Peter 1:18–19). “We are now His own holy nation, a royal priesthood” (1 Peter 2:9).
And though you may seem alone, you are never alone.
Wyneken was not alone in the forest. You are not alone in this culture. Christ is with His Church. Christ is with His pastors. Christ is with His people.
He who called you out of darkness will keep you in His marvelous light.
And now may the peace of God, which passes understanding, set watch over your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus to live everlasting. Amen.
Sermon on Revelation 7:13-17 All Saints’ Sunday November 5-6, 2023 Our Hope Lutheran Church Huntertown, Indiana
Note: This is a sermon version of my All Saints’ Day devotional, revised to remember my late wife, Kris, and dear friends at my home parish. She entered rest on 29 April 2022 and was buried from this church on 6 May 2022.
Text: “Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?” I said to him, “Sir, you know.” And he said to me, “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. “Therefore, they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
Prayer: For all the saints who from their labors rest, Who Thee by faith before the world confessed, Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest. Amen.
Christ is Risen!
Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who by his death has destroyed death and by his rising again opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.
Introduction: All Saints’ Day is a memorial day. From the earliest days of the church, first congregations, then regions, remembered Christian loved ones on the day they died — especially those who died as martyrs. The November 1 celebration began under Pope Gregory III in the 8th century and was made universal by Pope Gregory IV in 837. Since then, the church has marked that day to follow the lead of the Book of Hebrews: “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God; consider the outcome of their life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever.” (Hebrews 13:7–8) Memorial days are really the last stage of grief. We thank God for our departed, remember how they lived, especially how they trusted God, and make their trust in Jesus our own. They are now at rest with Jesus, after all, and one day we will join them.
Our text this morning opens the curtain of heaven for us to see the throne of God. The Elder explains to St. John that the crowd no one can number are coming from the Great Tribulation, the time between the Ascension of Jesus and his return in glory. They are gathered before the Father and the Lamb of God. They are God’s children from every time – Adam and Noah, Joseph and Moses, David and Elijah, all those trusting in the coming Messiah. The Apostles and Evangelists, Christians from every time and place, language, and nation are there. There also people much more familiar to us. Our grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, spouses, friends, and sometimes children are there. It is good to remember them, to thank God for them, to consider the things they did, especially the good things they did in faith and because they love God.
Who do you remember? I remember my own grandparents and grandparents-in-law, who lived and prospered through incredibly hard times, kept the faith in their own … unique … ways, who were often living examples of saints and sinners at the same time. Some of you remember the days of the World Wars and the Depression all too well. I remember my grandmother Smith reading from the big, KJV family Bible to me as a child on her lap. I remember my grandmother Schneider and her aunt who gave me my first Greek New Testament as a confirmation gift. There are also my parents and parents-in-law, troubled in troubled times, yet who still kept their faith. Also present is my father, that bruised reed the Lord did not break. And now in 2023, i remember my beloved wife, Kris, who has joined them. She loved me, her children and grandchildren through constant pain all of her life, produced endless beautiful and practical crafts that blessed many. Her straightforward, rock-hard faith was an inspiration to me and to many.
Who do you remember? As you and I look out at our church today, we remember brothers and sisters in Christ who sat here with us. We can almost see them in their favorite pews. All are at rest with their Savior. Many others are there, too. My Fathers and brothers in the faith. I remember those that taught me and many others and laid the stole of ministry on me the same stole I have now laid on my son-in-law, spiritual sons. I am thankful for them and for their confessions. I pray to be as faithful to the Lord as they were.
So, how did they get there before the throne? Born sinners, they struggled with the Old Adam and Old Eve until the day they died. Yet when they were baptized, Jesus united them with his death. He, the Lamb of God, took away the sins of the world – their sin, our sin. When he rose from the dead, he opened the way for them – and us – to be with him forever. He gave them and us the white robe when he baptized them, the robe of his perfect righteousness. He placed the palm branch of victory in their hands. When we worship, we join them and angels and archangels in praise. You can almost see them waving the branches when we sing with them, “Hosanna in the highest!”
At the deaths of our dear saints, Jesus sent his angels to bring them home to him in paradise. In our church, we drape their bodies at rest in a pall. It reminds us of the white robes of his righteousness and the palms of victory they now wave before the throne.
So, how did they make it through this Valley of the Shadow of Death? In life, Jesus was their Rock, their Fortress, and their Might; he was their Captain in the well-fought fight. Their fears were calmed when they remembered he was with them. They placed their burdens at the feet of the cross. The Lord’s Supper strengthened them like bread for the journey — a phrase that pastors often say when communing the very ill and those near death.
I was blessed to celebrate All Saints Day with my wife thirty-four times, thankful for each day we were together, praying to thank the Lord for those safely home. Now I pray after receiving the Lord’s Supper to thank God for my late wife, an ever-growing list of grandchildren, my children, and their spouses. I will rejoice that this year I can still hold their hands, speak with them, and see them all once in a while. Soon, all too soon, the angels will come for one of them or me, to join those at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb as the Lord Jesus says to one of us, “Welcome to the joy of your Father.”
As glorious as this is, yet there breaks a more glorious day. As blessed as being with Jesus in paradise, the best is yet to come. The saints triumphant will rise in bright array; The King of glory will pass on His way. Sin and death will die. The world renewed, restored, and transformed, fit for eternity. God will pitch his tent with us and live with us forever. And he will dry every tear from our eyes. There will be no more sorrow, sighing grief, or pain. All these will pass away. God will make all things new again. Once more, he will see all that he has made and now redeemed with his own blood and say, “Look, it is very Good!” Amen, come Lord Jesus, at the end of days and at the end of our days.
Christ is Risen!
Prayer: Oh, may Thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold, Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old And win with them the victor’s crown of gold! Amen.
Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, set watch over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus to life everlasting.
Rev. Robert E. Smith Pastor Emeritus Fort Wayne, Indiana
Sleep well, my love, When next you wake, Your eyes will see our Savior’s face. With joy, he’ll dry your every tear, And gently calm your every fear.
Sleep well, my love, Before too long, I’ll hear his call to come on home, With you and loved ones gone before We’ll see the God whom we adore.
Sleep well, my love, The Shepherd keep, Your body safe until the time When he will call us from the grave, To live with him in endless day.
Notes: Kristina Pugh Smith (1960-2022) went to sleep on Thursday evening, April 28th, 2022. Her husband and daughter had spent the day with her. She settled into a coma, and her family was alerted that death was near. The next morning, they had the blessing of spending the last seven hours of her life with her. Her husband said words similar to this, along with the Nunc Dimittis, that Friday morning. As morning prayer began in Kramer Chapel that day, therapeutic care was removed, and hospice care began. As the seminary community prayed a prayer of commendation of the dying, she gently entered eternal life. This poem was written to capture those words a week later.
“Holy” is one of the most common church words. It is a part of the very fabric of the English language, used often even by non-Christians. We give very little thought to the word — most often we think of it as another way of saying “Godly.” We use it to connect something to God — or as a swear word or phrase to emphasize something. So, if we think about it, the phrases “Holy God” or “Holy Trinity” seem like we’re repeating ourselves — kind of like saying “Godly God.”
The Hebrew word for holy is קָדֹושׁ (kadosh — Separate, devoted, pure). When we say God is holy, we mean he is completely separate from all things, high above all things. Theologians use it to describe all of God’s qualities (attributes). Everything about God is absolutely pure and not mixed with anything else. When it comes to talking about God’s will and actions, the word “holy” means that God is absolutely good and without sin. Nothing impure can exist in his presence. That is why a sinful person cannot see God’s glory and live. That is why, in the temple, only the purified High Priest could enter the Most Holy Place (Holy of Holies) once a year, and only to bring the blood of the sacrifice that brought the people of Israel the forgiveness of sins.
Because God is holy, anything set apart for his use is called holy. The temple, the sacrifices, his people. In the New Testament, the Word of God and the Sacraments are called holy: they connect God and his people. They are Means of Grace, how God, in his grace and mercy, creates faith in our hearts, forgives our sins, claims us as his own children, and gives us life and salvation for the sake of the atoning sacrifice of God’s Son on the cross. In Baptism, Jesus makes us holy. (Ephesians 1:4, 5:27) Now we are his saints (“Holy Ones”). We are a holy nation called to proclaim his good news to the whole world.
Now God calls on us, as his holy people, to be holy as our Heavenly Father is holy and perfect. (Leviticus 19:2, Matthew 5:48) As sinners, we will not be completely holy in our lifetime, but in faith, trusting in Christ, we can begin to do good works. Because of the cross, God sees only these works and remembers our sins no more. When we die and enter Christ’s eternal presence, we will then be purged of our sins once and for all, and live as holy people in fellowship with our Holy God forever.
Orthodox is a term that is a bit like catholic in the minds of casual Christians. We hear these terms as they are applied to identifiable sects. That identification can lead us to assume that the word itself must refer to the sect.
Catholic simply means universal or whole. So, in the Sunday morning prayers, when we pray for “the whole Christian Church on earth,” we could just as well say the “Catholic Church” on earth. Our friends in the Roman Catholic sect are the most significant association with that term, applying to a specific denomination within Christianity. There are also other non-Roman Catholic denominations that identify themselves as Catholic. Rome neither holds nor exercises exclusive rights to that term, though the pope may want us to think that.
Orthodox rings similarly in our ears. For those who’ve heard of the Eastern Orthodox Church, we assume those terms are synonymous with the Eastern Christian sect. That’s not exactly so.
The Eastern and Western Christians split in 1054 AD. The patriarchs of Rome and Constantinople had a falling-out, which led to the split. The patriarchs of the Eastern churches sided with the patriarch of Constantinople. The Roman patriarch found himself alone, heading a large portion of Christianity. The churches we call Orthodox are from the Eastern side and those patriarchs. That time deserves its own treatment in another article or articles.
Ὀρθόδοξος (Orthodox) simply means straight teaching, opinion, or belief. For those of an etymological inclination, ὀρθῶς (orthōs) means straight, unbent, or unwavering. And, δόξα (doksa) means teaching, opinion, or belief. It is the foil of heterodoxy, which is mingled or combined teaching.
There’s more here than simply lexical understandings. Orthodoxy in Christianity is normed by the scriptures and our teaching drawn from them. The Bible is the norm that norms our teaching. Our teaching is the norm, which is normed by the Word of God, the Bible.
There are also orthodox teachers of non-Christian religions. Orthodox adherents of Judaism, who may or may not be Orthodox Jews, will want to destroy the Dome of the Rock, rebuild the Jewish Temple, and resume the O.T. sacrificial system. Orthodox Muslims are politely called “extremists.” It is orthodoxy in Islam to desire and seek the death of the infidel, all non-Muslims. Orthodoxy in the Latter-Day Saints requires plural marriage and the rejection of all unbelievers (Christians outside the LDS). Former Mormons receive the worst fate among orthodox LDS. They are the only ones who can go to “outer darkness.”
There is also an orthodoxy in all sects of Christianity. Orthodox Lutherans, Anglicans, Baptists, and Methodists seek to maintain adherence to the teachings as we have received them. In a seeming incongruity, orthodox teachers of heterodox churches teach contrary to Christian orthodoxy and the Word of God from which it springs.
For we Lutherans, that means that we hold to our doctrines and remain in the Word of God, always ready to be corrected by the scriptures in our understanding and teachings. The five solas of the reformation (grace alone, faith alone, scripture alone, Christ alone, to the glory of God alone) constantly direct us back to the Word of God and conform our straight teaching to it.
By our Orthodoxy, we preach Christ, and Him crucified.
[Nineth in a series of posts on church words]Encore Post: The oldest and most universal name for the Church is “Christian.” In fact, followers of Jesus were first called “Christian” by Gentiles in the city of Antioch — as recorded by St. Luke in the Book of Acts! (Acts 11:26) It was not a complement. The followers of crazy new religions were called by their founder’s name — with the -ian ending! In fact, most of them probably thought the disciples of Jesus were followers of a man named “Chrestus” — a popular name for a slave. Christians seemed to have called themselves “slaves of Jesus Christ” (that’s what the phrase translated “servants of Jesus Christ” really means!), brothers, holy ones (saints) or disciples. Eventually, the nickname stuck when it was used by Romans to charge Christians with believing in Jesus Christ. Since it was good enough for the martyrs, it was good enough for everyone!
Today we use it in a variety of ways. We use it for a follower of Christ, the religion they belong to, a behavior in keeping with the word of God, political parties and many other ways. As fine a word as it is, sometimes it can be quite useless. For example, Mormons, who believe that God was a man and that we, too, can earn god or goddess-hood, Jehovah’s Witnesses, who do not believe Jesus is God or died on the cross, and many others call themselves Christian. In fact, Social Scientists count them along with us. People who have never darkened the door of a church will count themselves as Christians, because they believe they are “good people.”
Yet we confess that we believe in the “one, holy, Christian and Apostolic Church.” For all the false claims and misleading uses of the word, we are proud to “belong to Christ.” After all, he loved us, set aside his glory, suffered and died for us, paying the price of our sins, rose again to break the seal of the grave for us and, in baptism, made us his own. So we fight for the term and gladly wear his name — the name the martyrs confessed and died to proclaim. Lord, may we follow in their train!
“That’s Catholic!” you may hear someone say when they see a Lutheran make the sign of the cross, a crucifix hanging in the sanctuary of a Lutheran church, a pastor wearing a clerical collar, or another traditional practice they’ve not seen Lutherans do. What they’re thinking is this means the Lutheran in question is acting like a Roman Catholic. They are often unaware that Lutherans have had these practices since the time of the Reformation or that the word catholic did not originally refer to the Christian tradition headed by the Pope. The word catholic has been used since the early church to refer to the whole Christian Church.
The word catholic is from the Greek word καθολικός (literally “according to the whole”) and means “universal.” So, if we wanted to be sarcastic, we could answer the objection “that’s catholic,” “Why, yes! The whole church does it!” The early church would use the phrase “catholic church” to mean the invisible church. When someone wanted to talk about the faith of the whole church and not just a single congregation or region, they would call it the “catholic faith.”
Soon, the word was used to separate false teachings and false teachers from orthodox teachings and leaders. The true faith was called the “catholic” or “orthodox” faith. False teachings were called heresies (literally “other teachings”), and the groups that promoted them were called schisms (literally “divisions”). At the time of the Reformation, Luther’s opponents quickly charged him and his associates with not being “catholic” but heretical. They labeled them “Lutherans” as an insult (meaning followers of Luther and not Christ) and themselves as Catholics. From the very beginning, Luther and Lutheran theologians defended themselves by saying they were the true catholics, teaching the orthodox faith as it was taught and practiced from the beginning. As you might guess, they did not win this argument, even though they were right.
You will occasionally run into the word in Lutheran circles, even today. You will sometimes see it in the creeds — especially the Apostles’ Creed, which reads in Latin and Greek (translated) “one holy, catholic and apostolic church.” Martin Luther used the word “Christian” because existing German translations did. Theologians will still use the term from time to time when emphasizing that we believe and teach what the church has always believed. So, don’t panic if you are asked to confess that you believe in the catholic faith — because you do!
Beginning tomorrow, the What Does This Mesn? blog will begin running our post series on church words.
In church, we use a number of words that we assume everyone knows, but no one ever explains. These posts provide background on these terms and what we mean by them when we use them.
Rev. Robert E. Smith Pastor Emeritus Fort Wayne, Indiana
Sermon on John 17 Fifth Wednesday in Lent Zion Lutheran Church Guttenberg, Iowa 25 March 2026
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
This reading that we had this evening comes from the last prayer that we have recorded from the mouth of Jesus before he died (John 17). It was said in the Garden of Gethsemane, and while the disciples were trying to stay awake, they were depressed, confused, and did not know whether up or down was coming.
It had been a whirlwind of a couple of weeks. A sense of things leading toward conflict grew with each step that they took toward Jerusalem.
Jesus had healed a blind man in Jericho (Luke 18:35–43), a clear sign of the Messiah. Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead in the sight of the priests, not miles from Jerusalem, after he had been dead for four days (John 11:38–44), yet one more sign of the Messiah.
On Palm Sunday, Jesus deliberately rides a donkey along the road that David took (1 Kings 1:33–34). He rode on a donkey, fulfilling prophecy (Zechariah 9:9), just as David had taken that very same road to reassume his throne, and just as his son Solomon had done, also riding a donkey into Jerusalem.
The sign was unmistakable to the pilgrims gathering for Passover, as the Passover lambs streamed in along the same road from Bethlehem, headed toward the temple for sacrifice.
He accepted the praises of the crowd, “Hosanna to the Son of David, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” (Psalm 118:25–26; Matthew 21:9), and none of this was lost on the priests and those around him. The disciples were both joyful and just a little bit nervous.
The road led up and across the brook Kidron and directly into the temple complex, where Jesus was to drive the money changers out of the temple (Matthew 21:12–13) for three days and argue with the scribes and the Pharisees as they tried all the trick questions they could think of. Every one of them, Jesus deftly turned aside, and the disciples could not miss the hatred in their eyes. They knew something was up, but they really didn’t know exactly what that was.
Thomas long ago had conceded that he was headed toward Jerusalem to die: “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:16).
It’s not only that, but Jesus had this tendency over the years to constantly predict his suffering, death, and resurrection, all at the hands of the scribes and the Pharisees (Matthew 16:21; Mark 10:33–34; Luke 18:31–33). And so, unsettled, they were listening to him, wondering half what this last teaching really meant for them.
And so, Jesus, quite aware of all of this, prays for them and for us.
What Is It That Bothers You Today?
We have quite a few things in this life: the usual litany of the phases of life—sickness, grief, death, hurricanes, tornadoes, all kinds of disasters that come our way, and ups and downs in the economy. Just when you think you can pay for your gas, you pull into the gas pump, and the price has jumped again.
All these things can worry and build on you. And if it’s not that, it’s chronic aches and pains, the issues that you find with workers and people alongside you. And any time you open your mouth to say anything to people about Jesus, you get at best a polite look of disdain and maybe even some ridicule along the way.
“In the world you will have tribulation,” Jesus told us (John 16:33). And he was right. We do have tribulation at every turn. These, he told us, are a sign that we are in the last days (Matthew 24:8), in the same way that you know that when labor begins, a woman is about to deliver her baby. And you might not know when, but you know it is coming, and it is coming soon.
And so it is we know that the end will come for us, either at the end of our days or at the end of all days, whichever the Lord wills.
The World, the Devil, and Our Own Sinful Flesh
The world itself is also preoccupied with everything that is on its agenda, each and every one of us being of the opinion that we, of course, should rule the world. And so we seek our own happiness, and the commercials and the television programs and the internet all urge us to splurge, to buy, to enjoy ourselves, to have all kinds of luxuries, that we are really right when we think that we are better than the people next to us and the people down the street.
Chief of sinners though I be… we might think all the rest are worse than me.
The devil’s accusations also play into this. Just as the devil tried to throw Jesus off his game with all of his sly things—“Turn these stones into bread… Bow down to me… Throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple” (Matthew 4:1–11)—so the same kinds of things also bear down on us.
When we know that we have to be disciplined, that we have to guard our lives so that we please God and our neighbors, so that we live in peace with people, and so that we raise our children well, we discover that sometimes those are very, very long paths and very, very long drawn-out things that you have to engage in, that could take you years to do. And so, taking a little shortcut, even if it’s not quite kosher, is a very tempting thing that comes our way.
Our own hearts, you see, are still inclined to sin (Romans 7:18–25), although we have been baptized and washed by the blood of the Lamb (Revelation 1:5), that we have been made his children and heirs, and a new person put in our hearts (2 Corinthians 5:17). That old Adam and that old Eve still keep coming along, and as is sometimes attributed to Luther, although I can’t find it in him, the old Adam is a good swimmer—very hard to drown in the waters of baptism (Romans 6:3–6). And he will be with us until the day that we die, and the Lord relieves us of him once and for all.
But in the meantime, we have all these things that tempt us to sin, and more often than we would like, we fall into those sins and have to start all over each day, asking for forgiveness and trying one more time.
“I Pray for You”
In the midst of all of this, which can get sometimes very confusing, they say that when you go into a battle, the moment that the first shots are fired, the smoke and the noise and the splashing of light is such that nobody knows where anybody or anyone else is, and the confusion is almost as bad as the violence around you.
And so it is in our world sometimes. We really can’t figure out what’s up or down some days.
And that’s why it is good that Jesus says, “I pray for you.” (John 17:9, 20)
Jesus, you see, rescued us from this, taking all of these sins, all of our doubts, all of our worries, all of our fear, and went to the cross right after he prayed this prayer, where he suffered and died that our sins might be completely paid for, washed away by the shedding of his very own precious blood on that cross (1 Peter 1:18–19).
And when he died and paid for it once and for all and said, “It is finished,” (John 19:30), it was really finished. Our sins are forgiven. Our lives are promised to be with him forever. And when our time comes to an end, that is where we will be, with him in glory forever and ever (Philippians 1:23).
And so he prays for us because he knows exactly what this life is like. One of the side benefits of the incarnation is that God walked as a man, suffered, had the same pains and the same temptations as each one of us (Hebrews 4:15), and knows very well what we’re up against. And so when he prays, he prays for what he knows very, very well.
Just as he begins to pray, it is not the last time he does so. It sounds like it—the High Priestly Prayer comes to an end, he’s arrested and off to the cross. But we’re told in various and sundry different places that in the midst of this world, in the midst of all of the trials and tribulations and the groanings that we have in this world, that Jesus is at the right hand of God interceding for us (Romans 8:34; Hebrews 7:25).
Now, on the side of him, the Holy Spirit is at work, listening to us, and when we don’t have the words to pray, praying those words himself for us (Romans 8:26–27).
In that promise, we can stand knowing that every day of our lives, not only are we not alone, but that God himself is praying to God for us. You really can’t lose when that’s going on.
Why Does He Pray?
And as if that were not enough—and it sure is—he continues to encourage us through the reading, the singing, and the preaching of his word (Romans 10:17), through the waters of baptism (Titus 3:5), through the comfort of hearing God’s own voice through your pastor forgiving your sins (John 20:22–23), through the sacrament of his body and blood where we receive the very body and blood of Christ shed for us for the forgiveness of our sins (Matthew 26:26–28).
In all of this, why does he pray?
He prays that we would be forgiven (John 17:17).
He prays that we would be one with each other and with the Church in heaven (John 17:21–23).
He prays that we would be made holy (John 17:17).
And you know, if God prays to God, there’s only one answer to that prayer, and that’s yes.
And so we can have comfort in this:
When you cannot pray, Christ prays for you.
When your faith is weak, his prayers undergird you and hold you up.
When you are weak and don’t know what is coming next, he is there to strengthen you.
And on the last day, he will send his angel to escort you to be with him (Luke 16:22).
So it is that you live with God even now. In the center of the Holy Trinity, in that family of persons that are one being, yet three, we are also one in some mysterious way with him, even in this life (John 14:20; John 17:23).
For Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, even though he dies, yet shall he live. And he who lives and believes in me shall never die.” (John 11:25–26)
And so it is with us. As we walk in this life, we can be confident that no matter what comes our way, Jesus is with us and he prays for us. And that is really, really good enough.
