No Introduction Necessary

 

Jesu Juva

Psalm 46                                                                           

October 26, 2022

Reformationtide

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          The Reformation came late to Leipzig.  The Reformation had spread like wildfire throughout the German territories in the years that followed Luther’s posting of the 95 theses in 1517.  And yet over two decades would go by before the Reformation was embraced in Leipzig—just forty-some miles from Wittenberg—due to a stubborn Roman Catholic royal family.

          But in 1539 a change in Leipzig’s leadership meant that Luther himself could come for a visit on the Day of Pentecost.  Leipzigers filled the St. Thomas church to capacity to hear Luther preach the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ.  So hungry were the people of Leipzig for the pure Word of God that they broke out the church windows and raised ladders so that the thousands gathered outside the church could hear the words of Luther’s sermon.  And the rest, they say, is history, as Leipzig became a part of what we tourists now call “Lutherland.”

          Leipzig was practically a “Lutheran Utopia” when Johann Sebastian Bach lived and worked there, two centuries later.  In 1739, the 200^th Anniversary of the

Reformation in Leipzig had been marked with celebration and song—pomp, pageantry, and reverent thanksgiving to God.  Some of Bach’s most deeply theological compositions were created around this anniversary—including the one we will hear tonight.

          It was in 1740—the very next year—when Bach (now in his mid-50s) decided to create a new opening chorus for a cantata he had first composed decades earlier.  The entire cantata was built around the most famous of Martin Luther’s Reformation Hymns:  A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, or, in German:  Ein Feste Burg ist unser Gott.  It wouldn’t be stretching the truth by much to say that every Lutheran in Leipzig knew every word of A Mighty Fortress by heart.  It had been, after all, the battle hymn of the Reformation—a hymn by which Lutherans had lived, fought, and died for 200 years.

          Luther’s hymn is based on Psalm 46 which we sang earlier.  Both Psalm and hymn remind us that the battle is ongoing—that the church of Jesus Christ is under constant attack.  We have an enemy—the Old Evil Foe—who never gives up or gives in or surrenders.  The Psalm speaks of raging nations, tottering kingdoms, broken bows, shattered spears, and chariots burning with fire.  But the Lord—He is our refuge and strength—our defense and offense—our trusty shield and weapon.  He helps us free from every need—whether we are advancing or retreating.  The Lord of hosts is with us.

          But do you really need me to tell you this?  Do you not sense and see that you are under attack?  Do you not feel the poison sting of Satan’s arrows and temptations being flung your way day and night?  The old evil Foe has been carpet bombing your position since the day you were baptized.  He’s been advancing against you like Hitler’s Stormtroopers marching through Poland.  He now means deadly woe.  He means to destroy your faith in Jesus—to weaken it, starve it, and lay siege to it. 

          Are you ready to fight back?  Are you ready to rumble?  Are you ready to take up God’s good gifts and Spirit—to sacrifice goods, fame, child, and wife—to maintain your hold on the faith once delivered to the saints? 

          By nature we would rather retreat—and not fight.  By nature we are all quitters in the fight of the faith.  Surrendering without a fight is what we do best.  When it comes to this spiritual war, our slogan is:  War, what is it good for?  Absolutely nothing.  It’s easier to keep you head down, go along with the crowd, shirk your duty, dessert your post.  It’s easier to pretend that there isn’t any war going on—that you’re not in Satan’s crosshairs.  A lot of Christians, it seems to me, are like Neville Chamberlain returning from Munich in 1939, claiming to have found “peace in our time.”  In reality, we are only appeasing the enemy—giving up and giving in to his plans for world domination.

          To save you from this fate, God Himself speaks in Psalm 46:  Be still, and know that I am God.  To save you from this fate, God Himself was exalted among the nations—was exalted in the earth—was exalted on a cross for your forgiveness.  All the weaponry of this sinful world was arrayed against Jesus.  Jesus was subjected to this world’s finest tool of torture:  nails and spear, whips and thorns—all these He endured for you, to save you.  The seeming defeat of Good Friday was eclipsed by resurrection victory three days later.  Christ is risen.  He is living.  Jesus lives; the victory’s won!  The war has been won; though our battles continue.

          Think for a moment about those brave men who stormed the beaches of Normandy on D-Day, 1944.  The only thing those men knew as they crawled ashore and scaled those well-fortified cliffs was that the chance of survival was not good.  They didn’t know if they would succeed or fail—whether they would lose the battle and lose the war, or whether they would win the battle and win the war.  We know.  We know they won—and by their sacrifice our entire nation was victorious.  But what if they had known that going in?  What if they had a way of foreseeing how it would all turn out?  That victory was a certainty—just over the horizon?  Had they know that, isn’t it possible they would have fought harder and braver?  Wouldn’t they have been bolstered in the fight—made more confident and more courageous knowing that victory was a certainty?

          Beloved in the Lord, your victory is a certainty.  For the Lord of Hosts is with us.  The God of Jacob is our fortress.  In Jesus you are justified.  In Jesus your sins are forgiven.  In Jesus death is defeated and you will live forever!  Your battles against sin and temptation are not pointless and uncertain.  For your destiny is victory in Jesus Christ our Lord.

          To encourage you to take up the fight, and not grow weary, Johann Sebastian Bach composed the magnificent chorus you are about to hear.  A mighty fortress is our God; Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott.  And part of the surprise here is that there’s no instrumental introduction—no setting the musical stage.  Bach begins by just launching the tenors into the fray of this fugue:  (sing) Ein Fe---ste Burg ist unser Gott.  And right behind those tenors come wave after wave of reinforcements:  then come the altos and then come the sopranos and then come the basses—and then you and me—and all who have fought the good fight of the faith.  This is our fight.  This is our victory in Jesus.  And it needs no introduction.

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