Monday, June 3, 2019

The Church in Transition

In Nomine Iesu
Acts 1; John 17
June 2, 2019
Easter 7A

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

The painting on the cover of this morning’s bulletin always leaves me with lots of questions. Grab a copy of your bulletin and take a look with me at this painting. It is, at first glance, a church in ruins. Not very impressive. What will become of this church? Will
it be rebuilt or razed? Is it destined for resurrection or destruction?

The painting doesn’t give away many answers. For instance, is the material in the foreground merely debris and rubble? Or do you see stones and wooden beams, stacked and organized for an upcoming re-build? Look at the sky. See how gray it is. There’s a burst of yellow sunlight filtering through from just behind the church. Is it meant to depict the hopeful dawn of a new day? Or is the light fading away to darkness—into night, when no man can work?

As fragile and damaged as this church is, it still serves one purpose. It leads the viewer to look upward—up through that blood-red roof to a steeple which still points to heaven, from whence cometh our help. There’s no cross in the painting; but did you notice that ladder in the center of the ruins? It’s probably just there for practical purposes; but ladders, too, lead upward. Think of Jacob’s ladder. Ladders make accessible what is otherwise inaccessible. No one can come to the Father apart from Christ and His church. A ladder inside the church reminds me that outside the church there is no salvation—no access to heaven. But what will become of this church?

Today is the Seventh Sunday of Easter. It’s that unique week in the church year where we see the church in transition—filled with questions and uncertainties. Jesus had just ascended into heaven which, on the face of it, didn’t bode very well for that tiny body of believers. In the whole world, there were only 120 Christians—just a dozen or so more that are gathered here today. They had been told to wait. Pentecost was yet to come. What would become of this tiny church? Would they face destruction or resurrection? Failure or success? Was it the hopeful dawn of a new day, or the beginning of the end? We know the answer, of course; but they didn’t. All they could do was wait and pray and trust the promises of Jesus.

Today we can look back and see what those first believers couldn’t see—that the story of the church of Jesus Christ is one of unparalleled success and growth and longevity. What other organization has lasted this long? What other organization spans the globe to include members from every nation, tribe, and language? What other organization bestows the benefits and blessings of salvation—which you find served up every Sunday between these four walls?

Today we learn the secret of the church’s success (and it’s probably not what you think it is). Our secret? Jesus Christ is praying for us—for you—for His whole church. Today’s Holy Gospel presents a portion of the high priestly prayer Jesus offered on the night when He was betrayed. And on that night, in that prayer, our Lord intentionally, unambiguously prays for us: for those, He says, who will believe in me through the word of the apostles that they may all be one. You are among those who believe, having heard the apostolic word, inspired by the Holy Spirit.

The church is always in transition—growing and declining, expanding and contracting—but that transition is always guided and directed by the prayer of our Lord. He prayed for you in the upper room on Thursday night of Holy Week—at the very table where He first gave His disciples His own body as bread and His own blood as wine—the very table where He had stooped down to wash their feet as an example of humble service. There Jesus prayed for them, and for us. And where Jesus’ prayers are concerned, there’s no expiration date. What He asked for then, He asks for now—that we be kept safe with the Father and the Son in the unity of the Holy Spirit.

This is why the church is still going strong—despite all her enemies, and despite periods of terrible persecution—despite Islam, communism, socialism, rationalism, pietism, and atheism. And let’s not forget all the enemies that spread like cancer within the church: heresy and heretics, corrupt clergy and lazy laity, sex scandals and constant conflict. It’s a sad record of human mismanagement that would have driven any other organization into the ground long ago.

But much like the dandelions that keep popping up in your lawn, the church seems to march on, popping up here and there all over the world. Now, the church isn’t uniformly strong and fruitful everywhere at the same time. In some places, including the United States, the church is shriveling and shrinking. But in other places the church is fruitful, vibrant, and growing. It’s fruitful, vibrant and growing in Togo, West Africa. Our missionary to Togo, Micah Wildauer, will be standing right here next Sunday. He’s a theological educator. He teaches and trains indigenous African men to become Lutheran pastors in the surrounding cities and villages. And three weeks from today I plan to be worshiping with our other missionary, Deaconess Kim Bueltmann, at her church in Leipzig, Germany. The church in Germany has been on life-support for nearly two centuries. But the recent influx of middle-eastern refugees, many of them Muslim, has led Lutheran church pews to start filling up, and bone-dry baptismal fonts now can’t be filled with enough water to welcome all the new converts to Christianity.

Times are getting tougher for the church in these parts. And that reality means two things for us. It means, first of all, that we need to realize the window of opportunity for spreading the gospel and for living out our faith in freedom—that window is closing. We need to get busy now—make our hay while the sun shines—do our work and witness while it is day, knowing that night is coming when no man can work. Now isn’t the time to be timid and to hold back. We are blessed. But the years of feasting are giving way to years of famine.

We need to act now—with great intentionality and purpose—to make sure our children are taught the faith—are being grounded in Scripture, and in the catechism, and in the hymnal. They need to be in Sunday school, and parents need to teach the faith at home. Parents of middle school and high school youth need to be discussing at home what gets taught at school. Because right here our local schools routinely advocate for homosexuality, for evolution, for sexual experimentation, and for a spirituality that embraces all religions, but which leaves no room for Jesus.

But even as we get to work and prepare for tough times, yet, we are not without hope. Jesus Christ is praying for us! Jesus said, “I will build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” That doesn’t mean that every congregation is bulletproof. But it does mean that whether the church grows or declines, it’s not our doing. The church is the bride of Christ. He purchased and won her with His blood shed on the cross. He washes her with the water and the word of baptism. He clothes her with the beautiful robe of His own righteousness. He nourishes her with His own body and blood. He absolves her. And He prays for her. Jesus prays for His church and, in that prayer, He prays for you also. He prays for our union with Him and with the Father. He prays for our oneness and unity with each other.

But notice that even as Jesus prays for our unity and oneness, He adds, “so that the world may believe that you sent me.” We exist for the blessing and benefit of the world. The point of this sermon is not that we become fearful about the welfare of our congregation—that we become preoccupied with our own self-preservation—that we have an “us vs. them” mentality—drawing lines and building walls to keep ourselves “safe.” No, Jesus calls us the light of the world—the salt of the earth. And our goal is always simply to be faithful to our Savior—to hear the Word of God and keep it. The results are out of our control. What happens to the church—and to this congregation in the decades ahead is not for us to say. But what we can be certain of is this—that the Lord will use us, in the vocations He gives us, to accomplish His good and gracious will. Or as Jesus once put it, “Let your light shine before men so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

The glory is the Lord’s, not ours; yet, God shares this glory with you as one of His baptized believers. You possess a share in that glory—earned for you by Jesus—the down payment of which is the Holy Spirit which you received in your baptism. That glory is shared with you, as well, as you receive Jesus’ body and blood for the forgiveness of sins. Right now that glory is hidden, to be sure. But one day we will see it all in paradise: the river of the water of life, the tree of life, the healing of the nations, and no more tears. Until then, the Spirit and the Church say, “Come.” Until then, Jesus Christ is praying for you; and you are held safely in that prayer.

The church will always be in transition until the last day. And then comes, not destruction, but resurrection—a new creation. And as for the church in ruins on the cover of today’s bulletin—it too has been “resurrected.” You can see it the next time you’re in Munich. In fact, you can ascend the steeple and survey that beautiful city, and be reminded that our help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

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