The Perils of Preaching

 Jesu Juva

St. Luke 4:16-30                                            

January 26, 2025

Epiphany 3C   

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        It’s not very often that a sermon makes the news.  What we preachers preach rarely grabs the headlines.  So my ears did perk up last week when a sermon preached at the National Cathedral in Washington suddenly became headline news.  What struck me as a preacher was how one sermon could generate such vastly different reactions.  Some hearers were inspired by that sermon—or at least by the soundbites—concluding that the preacher had courageously spoken “truth” to power (like the prophets of old).  Other hearers concluded that the sermon was political and not spiritual—heresy from the mouth of a heretic.

        A similar range of reactions can be found in today’s Holy Gospel, following a sermon preached by Jesus in His hometown.  The First Century Fox News Nazareth Bureau likely would have provided wall-to-wall coverage.  Jesus was a local boy now beginning to make a name for Himself.  You likely could have heard a pin drop in the synagogue as Jesus read from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah:  The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.  This is the Word of the Lord.  So far, so good.

        But then Jesus sat down and began the sermon:  Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.  Wait.  What did He say?  This Scripture—these words of Isaiah about the Messiah—this Scripture has been fulfilled in Jesus?!  Today?!  This is Joseph’s kid!  They were carpenters.  They built a deck in my backyard!  Who does this guy think he is?

        Jesus went on to point out Israel’s long history of rejecting and killing the prophets God sent to them—and how those people with genuine faith were often not even Jews, but Gentiles—like the widow of Zarephath and Naaman from Syria.  You name the prophet—Isaiah or Jeremiah, Elijah or Elisha—these prophets of God were rejected by the people of God.  And any eight-year-old Israelite could tell you that.  It’s in the Bible, after all. 

        Jesus was just pointing out the inconvenient truth that He Himself would be rejected, just like all those who came before Him.  Fast forward five minutes, and Jesus’ hearers were filled with wrath and rage, ready and willing to throw Jesus over a cliff.

        Jesus’ sermon at Nazareth shows that preaching can be perilous.  You probably don’t think of my line of work when you think of risky occupations.  We preachers don’t handle high voltage power lines, or engage in high speed chases, or wield scalpels or bone saws.  We simply handle the Word of God, which is living and active, sharper than any double-edged sword.  And if preachers handle that Word of Truth properly, then there will be times when the Word will sting and hurt and even offend.  It hurts to hear the truth about our sin.  We would each prefer a thousand pats on the back to one word of correction or rebuke.

        It’s easy for any Christian to misuse the Word of God.  It’s tempting (especially for preachers) to use the Word as a tool in our hands—to achieve what we want—to manipulate and mobilize the masses.  Want to start a program?  We have a Bible verse for that.  Want to raise money?  There’s a Bible verse for that too.  Want to trumpet a righteous cause?  Just take something from Corinthians out of context.  We look for what the Word can do for us, rather than what the Word does to us.  Ask not what the Word can do for you!  Don’t become critics and connoisseurs of the Word.  Don’t measure the Word based solely on whether it achieves the results you desire.

        But the Word remains the Word of the Lord.  And when the Lord’s Word goes forth from mouth to ears, and into hearts and minds, it does things.  It kills and makes alive.  It kills the sinner and raises up the saint.  It drowns the Old Adam and absolves the New Man in Christ.  It knocks us right off of our thrones and lifts us up from our knees.

        The Catechism reminds us that we should fear and love God so that we do not despise preaching and His Word, but hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it.  Today’s OT reading from Nehemiah shows what this looks like.  The returning exiles were glad and eager to hear the Word.  They listened in faith for six hours straight.  Ezra blessed the Lord and the people filled the air with their “amens.”

        Faith doesn’t look at the clock and say, “Is it time to go yet?”  Faith says, “Give us more from the Word.  We can’t get enough of it!”  The returning exiles stood on their feet in the hot sun with no shade, no padded pews or pipe organ.  They held the Word of God sacred.  They bowed their heads and bent their knees.  The joy of the Lord was their strength.

        The reaction to the Word was quite different that day In Nazareth when Jesus was the preacher.  It just goes to show how the Word allows no one to be neutral.  You either hear the Word in faith with joy—or, you try to throw Jesus off the cliff.  I’m not quite sure how our Lord managed to slip away from the wrath of those rioters; but I do know why:  His hour had not yet come.  This little episode was but a foretaste of the rejection to come.  Jesus was destined to be rejected by men—a man of sorrows, not success.  He came to His own but His own did not receive Him.  He is the rejected and rejectable Messiah who will not force His gifts on anyone.  Three years later they would lay hands on Jesus again—and He would allow it.  And He would be crucified.  And in that crucifixion He answers for our sin and for the death we poor sinners deserve.

        Though Jesus was rejected by His own; He stands ever ready to welcome you.  In Holy Baptism He places His Spirit upon you.  And by that Holy Spirit you now have a heart that responds in faith and repentance to the preaching of His holy Word.  No matter how terribly you have tampered and tinkered with God’s truth in your own life—no matter the shame and guilt that follows you around like your own shadow—Jesus Christ stands ready to forgive you and love you.  For He was rejected in your place—sacrificed as your substitute.  He now reigns and rules at the Father’s right hand—readying you for a resurrection life that has no end.  And He brings all of this to you personally through the foolishness of what we preachers preach.  How humbling to preach that.  God, have mercy on me, a preacher.

        So listen up, dear saints of our Savior.  Hear the Word of the Lord.  Today the Scriptures are fulfilled in your hearing.  Your sins are forgiven.  You stand justified before God in Jesus.  You have a place at His table.  The joy of the Lord is your strength.  Hear it and believe it.

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

The Wine Sign

 Jesu Juva

St. John 2:1-11                                              

January 19, 2025

Epiphany 2C                               

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        I’m old enough to remember when Orson Welles would pop up on television, reminding us that Paul Masson would “sell no wine . . . before its time.”  Unfortunately, the “time” for “wine” has come and gone in my opinion.  Wine has fallen on hard times.  Turns out, it’s really not good for you.  Some California wines contain traces of Round-Up herbicide.  Wine’s effect on brain and body is all bad. 

        But why whine about wine today?—when we commemorate how our Lord Jesus once served up 180 gallons of the very finest wine ever tasted?  Well, our Lord’s wine is more than just wine.  His wine is a “sign.”  A “sign” stands for something more than meets the eye.  In fact, Saint John tells us that this transformation of water to wine is the very “first” of our Lord’s “signs.”

        To put it in simple terms, a “sign” is something we see which causes us to take action.  You probably encountered a “stop sign” on your way to church this morning.  You saw the sign; and you took action—you hit the brakes.  Wine as a “sign” stands for things like: fellowship and Gemütlichkeit and good cheer and “here’s to you” and “here’s to you.”  The wedding wine made by Jesus meant all of that and more.  This “wine sign” manifested His glory.  This “wine sign” led the disciples to believe in Him.

        This first sign occurred at a wedding.  Wedding feasts at that time were often week-long affairs to which the whole town was invited; and food and drink were expected to be provided for all the guests.  Toss in a few unexpected guests, a handful of wedding crashers, some cousins from up north—these could quickly put a dent in the food and wine.  Running out of either would have been a big embarrassment for both families.

        Since weddings are family affairs it should come as no surprise that Jesus’ mother, Mary, is also at this wedding.  It’s Mary who first tells Jesus that the wine had run out.  And at first, Jesus doesn’t seem eager to do anything about it:  What does this have to do with me?  My hour has not yet come.  Jesus’ “hour” was a reference to His death on the cross.  That was why He came.  That’s also why the artwork on the cover of this morning’s bulletin has a wooden cross hidden in the background.  Did you catch that?  Jesus seems almost irritated at his mother for hinting that He should make things right.

        But Mary is a model of faith; and she forges ahead in faith, confident that Jesus will act.  She says to the servants: Do whatever he tells you.  Those happen to be the last recorded words of Mary in the Scriptures.  And we really can’t go wrong listening to those words of Mary:  Do whatever [my Son] tells you.  After all, He’s the one who died on the cross and rose from the dead to save you.  If Jesus says to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, then we should do it.  If Jesus says to forgive those who sin against us, then we should do it.  If Jesus says give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, then we should pay our taxes.  Do whatever He tells you.

        It starts to get interesting when Jesus tells the servants to fill up six stone water jars.  Now these big water jars were used for Jewish rites of purification.  And that fact is important.   In other words, the Jews washed with this water for reasons of godliness, not cleanliness.  By washing with that water they thought they could make themselves more acceptable to God (more on that in a minute).  Well, you know what happens next.  The master of the feast takes a sip of the new wine and immediately calls the groom over.  Listen, he says, someone’s made a mistake here.  You’re supposed to serve the fine wine first.  Then, after everyone’s senses are a little dulled, then you slip in the cheap stuff.  But, “you have kept the good wine until now.”  You have saved the best for last!

        Now, remember, this text is like fine wine.  So let’s savor what’s going on here.  When Mary says, “They have no more wine,” she might just as well have been talking about the Jews of the Old Covenant.  Their time was just about up.  They were hopelessly mired in the law—in keeping rules and regulations and ceremonies—with nothing to show for it but six stone jars of water.  That’s about as far as the law of God can take you.  At best, it can give you clean hands; but it can’t purify the heart of a sinner.  And that’s where the problem lies for us.  “The law came through Moses,” St. John writes, “but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”

        In Jesus the old has gone, and the new creation has come.  Jesus brings a new and better purification.  In Jesus, Old Testament bath water becomes New Testament wedding wine.  Jesus fills up the commandments of Moses with His own perfect obedience.  That’s why He came—to fill it up to the brim with Himself, and then to die an innocent death on the cross, to pour out His blood like fine wine from heaven to make glad every heart with the joy of His forgiveness, life and salvation.

        When the bartender says, “You’ve saved the best until now,” that’s more than a comment on the wine.  It’s a comment on Jesus.  God has truly saved the best for last in His Son, Jesus Christ.  In many and various ways God spoke to His people of old by the prophets, but now in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son.  The promises, the prophets, the priests and the ceremonial laws of the OT—they were good gifts of our good God.  But something far better comes our way in Jesus.  He is truly the best vintage, God’s private reserve, set aside from before the foundation of the world and appointed to be poured out generously in the fullness of time.

        Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law for all who believe.  He’s the end of using the law to get in good with God.  He’s the end of all hand-scrubbing religion—the end of all attempts to purify ourselves and clean up the mess of our own sin.  You can’t do that no matter how much you wash and soak and scrub.  You’ll never be pure enough.  But Jesus does it for you in His dying and rising.  He takes your sin and gives you His purity.  All who believe in Him are completely cleansed and purified—by grace.  And that’s something worth celebrating (and, I’m sorry, but grape juice just doesn’t cut it).  In Jesus you have a place at the wedding feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, where the meat is richly marbled and the where the wine never runs out.

        Have we made too much of this wine sign? No way.  In fact, there are a few drops more of this text left to enjoy.  We can’t quit until you recognize this:  that what goes on right here at Our Savior every Sunday is more marvelous and more meaningful than what happened at the wedding at Cana.  Here Jesus takes water and makes water a sign—a baptism—a sacrament of His death and resurrection life which is given to you in the splash of your own baptism.  Here Jesus takes bread and gives it as His body; here Jesus takes wine and gives it to you as His blood.  Right here every Sunday we have a wedding feast where Jesus is the groom, Jesus is bartender, Jesus is even the food and drink.  And you are His honored guests.  Here all signs point to Jesus!

        One day it will all be clear—how our God always saves the best for last.  And, He has one more vintage yet to uncork—you.  You are still aging in the bottle, so to speak.  Your hour—your time—has not yet come.  But it will come soon enough, at a time when the world’s party will have run dry, when Jesus appears in glory to raise the dead to life.  And then, with a new, resurrected body and joy overflowing, you will fully experience what today you can only believe:  God has saved the best for last; and the best always comes with Jesus. 

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

A Strange Solidarity

 Jesu Juva

St. Luke 3:15-22                                            

January 12, 2025

The Baptism of Our Lord-C      

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        Christmas came to an abrupt end last Tuesday (unofficially).  The two glorious Christmas trees which adorned our chancel came down last Sunday night.  For two days I watched as those two Tannenbaums laid out here on the curb—dead and dry.  That was bad enough.  But then the village came by on Tuesday afternoon and, within minutes, those two trees were pulverized to saw dust.  With that, Christmas concluded.

        It’s over.  It was great while it lasted.  The absence of Christmas is especially noticeable in this room. This place never looks so spacious and empty as it does on this Sunday—after the trees, the wreaths, and the poinsettias have all been removed.

        But . . . right over there . . . that little baptismal font is still there.  It never moved.  It never went away.  It will never be tossed to the curb.  The font of baptism abides.  It doesn’t look like much.  But Christmas would be rather empty without that font.  Christmas without baptism would ring hollow—because baptism takes Christmas and personalizes it.  The Christmas angel proclaimed good news of great joy for all people.  Baptism takes that good news of great joy and applies it to you personally.

        Today we hear how the Savior born in Bethlehem began His saving work.  And it began with His Baptism.  It’s a strange beginning, to be sure.  If Jesus’ baptism by John doesn’t strike you as a little strange, then you need to pay closer attention.  John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance.  Of what did the sinless Son of God need to repent?  John’s baptism was for the forgiveness of sins.  Of what did the sinless Son of God need to be forgiven?  John was the lesser; Jesus was the greater.  Yet here, the greater gets baptized by the lesser.  The sinless One gets treated as a sinner.  The sinless One stands shoulder to shoulder in solidarity with sinners like us.  When all the people were baptized, Jesus was baptized too.  This is strange.

        Baptism itself was something strange and new on that day when Jesus waded into the Jordan River.  It was new and strange to be baptized—to have water applied to you—for the forgiveness of sins.  In the Old Testament, you sacrificed an animal for forgiveness—the animal’s life in exchange for your life.  The animal’s blood was your forgiveness.  But John preached something radically new and different—not blood, but water.  Not a sacrificial death, but a cleansing bath.  Not something done at the temple, but in the river, in the wilderness.

        For Jesus Himself to undergo this “new” baptism was so strange that even John Himself objected to it.  St. Matthew tells us that John initially refused; because he believed that Jesus should be baptizing him—which would make more sense.  The greater should baptize the lesser.  The sinless One should baptize the sinner.  But Jesus said it was necessary—necessary that He be baptized to fulfill all righteousness.

        This is the key to understanding John’s baptism and why Jesus had to undergo it.  It was necessary—necessary that Jesus get wet in a sinner’s baptism—that He be treated like a sinner.  In that water He became one with us.  He declared solidarity with sinners.  He joined us in the filth of our rebellion—took a bath in our filthy, sin-filled bathwater.  He who knew no sin became sin for us.

        Was this Jesus really the Messiah?—the One mightier than John, whose sandals John wasn’t even worthy to untie?  Jesus doesn’t seem to fit with what John had been preaching.  John’s version of the Messiah has Him dishing out a fiery baptism, with a winnowing fork in His hands, ready to burn that worthless chaff with unquenchable fire.  But when the Savior calmly waded into the water, well, this was hardly the pitchfork-wielding, hellfire-and-brimstone judge John had been preaching about.  Did John get it wrong?

        No, but even John couldn’t quite fathom the strangeness of our Lord’s solidarity with sinners.  It is the strangeness of the God who loves us and wants to save us from our sins.  The baptism of Jesus and the cross of Jesus go together.  Before Jesus could judge the living and the dead, He Himself had to be judged on the cross—like a Lamb led to the slaughter.  Before the faithless chaff could be burned with unquenchable fire, Jesus Himself had to endure the full fury and fire of the Law’s condemnation.

        What we see as two separate events, separated by time and space—His baptism and His cross—they are really two sides of the same coin in God’s strange economy.  Jesus Himself liked to refer to His death as a “baptism.”  His saving work begins in the water; it ends—it is finished—on the cross.  His saving work begins with the Spirit descending and the loving voice of the Father from heaven; it ends with the Spirit departing, and the voice of the Father silent.  His work begins where He stands in solidarity with all the sinners—knee-deep in the same tepid pool as prostitutes and tax collectors; His saving work ends as He hangs suspended between two evildoers—promising paradise to the one who receives Him in faith.  His saving work begins with water; and ends with water and blood flowing from His side.  At His baptism, the heavens are opened to Him; at His cross, the heavens are opened to sinners—to us.

        This is all so strange.  This is the strangeness of God who has reached out to embrace you as His own dear child in the waters of Holy Baptism.  None of us would have scripted our salvation in the way that God scripted it.  It’s all so strange, in fact, that you might just be tempted to dismiss it—to disregard it.  You might be tempted to view your own baptism as nothing more than a quaint old rite—a symbolic ritual with no lasting significance—just an occasion for relatives to “ooh” and “ah” over a cute little baby.  Babies are, indeed, cute.  But baptized babies?  They have received the gift of faith.  They have been born again!  In the baptized, God Himself works forgiveness of sins, rescues from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation.  Whoever believes—and is baptized—shall be saved.

        Don’t dis baptism!  By no means!  Baptism is the strange, yet beautiful, way that the story of your salvation is unfolded.  Don’t discount the strangeness of this good and perfect gift for all nations.  Jesus’ baptism foreshadows your own.  Just as the heavens were opened to Jesus, so were they opened to you in your baptism, when you were justified for Jesus’ sake.  The Holy Spirit descended on Jesus in the form of a dove; and that same Spirit descended upon you in your baptism—making your body His temple, marking you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified.  It was at His baptism that Jesus’ Sonship was first revealed—revealed by the voice of the Father no less.  And it is in your baptism that God calls you by name, and declares you to be His beloved son or daughter—and all this for the sake of Jesus, your Savior.

        At Christmas we heard the good news of great joy that a Savior has been born—that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.  He still dwells among us.  He still dwells within us.  How do you know?  How can you be sure?  Well, you are baptized.  God the Holy Trinity has exchanged your bad for His good.  In exchange for your sin, God has given you the goodness—the righteousness, innocence, and blessedness—of Jesus, your Savior.  Christmas comes and Christmas goes.  But baptism—your baptism—abides forever.

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

No Longer Two

 Jesu Juva

St. Matthew 19:4-6                                          

January 4, 2025

Wedding Sermon

 

Dear Elizabeth and Nick,

Friends and family,

        Well, we made it.  Here we are:  January 4, 2025—which also happens to be the eleventh day of Christmas.  If you had asked my opinion about a Christmas wedding, I probably would have said something like, “Well, I don’t know.  Have you considered a less hectic time of the year?  A warmer time of the year perhaps?”  Fortunately, you didn’t ask my opinion; and it turns out, Christmas is a great time to get married!

        The Christmas now concluding is, actually, a lot like last year’s Christmas.  In fact, Christmas is almost always the same—lights, decorations, and trees—family, food, and carols—angels, shepherds, and manger—Mary, Joseph, and Jesus.  It’s all so predictable. 

        Yet for all the routine traditions, Christmas exerts a mysterious power over us.  Every year we come through these twelve days, and we are different.  Christmas changes us.  God’s Word has its way with us.  And like the Wisemen, we too depart from Bethlehem by a different way.

        We pass through these dimly lit days and discover we are not alone.  God Himself has joined us in the flesh of Jesus Christ.  And this Jesus brings light to our darkness.  He is Immanuel—God with us.  He comes to save us from our sins.  He is mysteriously God and man—divine and human.  And by the way, this is no downgrade for Jesus.  His incarnation is no demotion.  That’s because He assumes our humanity into His divinity.  Long story short, it’s a huge upgrade for us.  In the manger we see how much God loves us.  And as we each receive that swaddled, mangered love in faith, we are made different.  Christmas changes us.

        Nick and Elizabeth, today you will be changed.  You will leave here different than when you arrived.  In the sight of God and His church, you will be changed and nothing will ever be the same again.  Today the two of you will be joined into an exclusive, holy union of heart and body and mind.  Don’t be deceived by how predictable and traditional this all seems.  People get married all the time, right?—white dress, flowers, cake, dancing.  But in, with, and under all of that—mysteriously—God is at work to change you.  Something altogether new is happening. 

        This mystery is both profound and simple.  Today’s Scripture readings capture the marvel of marriage this way:  A man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.  So they are no longer two but one flesh.  What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.  Today, before God and these witnesses, two become one.  You will be changed; and nothing will ever be the same again.

        This doesn’t mean, Elizabeth, that you will cease to be the uniquely wonderful and talented person you have always been (now kindly caring for the dental health of hundreds).  This doesn’t mean, Nick, that you will cease to be the uniquely wonderful and talented person you have always been (now responding first to danger with calm compassion).  This change from two to one—it’s not a downgrade!  Your union isn’t a demotion; but a huge upgrade for you both.  It allows both of you to experience God’s gifts and grace more fully and completely—to delight in your humanity, and to draw more deeply from our Lord’s divine gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation.

        Today you two become one, united in Christ as husband and wife.  This change can only happen with the totality of you, holding nothing back, without reservation or hesitation.  You are all in.  The very core of your identity will be changed.  In just a few minutes your answer to the question, “Who am I?” will change:  I am Elizabeth’s husband.  I am Nick’s wife—totally and completely, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.  To each other you give yourself, and are given to—fully exposed and open to each other, your new life being full to the brim with promise and possibility.  No one on earth can give you such happiness as the other; but neither can anyone give you such pain.

        That pain will be prompted by all that seeks to divide you, and drive you apart, and separate what God is joining together.  Your own sinful natures will always seek to pull you away from God’s promises—urging you to hold back, and withhold, and serve yourself first.  In Matthew 19 the faithless Pharisees asked Jesus about marriage.  Or, more accurately, they asked Him about divorce.  They were looking to explore the legal loopholes, the exceptions and the exclusions, so as to maneuver around God’s will for husbands and wives.  We all do that.  Every husband and every wife must constantly struggle to shed all sinful, self-serving ways—which threaten to fracture the bond that God is creating.

        Jesus lets us in on a breath-taking secret concerning these very nuptials.  It turns out, all is not as it appears.  He says: What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.  Hidden in that sentence from the Savior is a glorious truth—a truth we dare not overlook.  I am named as the “officiant” of this wedding; in fact, I’ll sign the marriage license; but I’m not the one joining you together.  Nor will it be by the power of your own promises that you will be joined until death parts you.  God is the one who joins you together.  Behind your vows and promises—in, with, and under the prayers and praises we offer this afternoon—there stands Jesus.  The same Jesus born in Bethlehem, who loved us and gave Himself up for us, to save us from all our selfish, self-serving ways.

        Elizabeth and Nick, when the path before you seems painful or difficult or even impossible—trust this Jesus who has joined you together.  The God who created heaven and earth—the God who created male and female—the God who claims you as His very own in Holy Baptism—this God is creating something wonderfully new and marvelous in our midst right now.  Two times in Matthew 19 the disciples of Jesus become overwhelmed and exasperated at Jesus’ teaching:  This is too much!  We can’t do it!  It’s more than we can manage!  And Jesus says: You got that right.  It is too much for you—but not for God.  With God all things are possible (v.26).  So, you two are no longer two—but one flesh—joined together inseparable by God.    

        Elizabeth and Nick, no matter how much you will give and sacrifice for one another in the years ahead, Jesus will give more.  He always gives more than we can imagine or hope for.  Jesus has also sacrificed more.  In fact, our Lord’s words about marriage were spoken as He made His way up to Jerusalem to offer Himself for us—in the stead of every sinner—on Calvary’s cross.  He died for all, so that a world separated by sin might be joined to Jesus in His holy body, the church.  And after that, in the resurrection and the life eternal that sin and death cannot destroy.

        Confident in the forgiveness and love of Jesus, you are about to make some staggeringly bold promises and pledges—looking not for loopholes and exit routes—but without reservation.  You may fear that your love for one another might wear thin at times.  But fear not: for the love of Jesus will never fail.  Accompanying your love through all the ups and downs will be His love. 

        His love for you will be most manifest and obvious right here in this sacred space, where you will gather again and again, as husband and wife to hear His promises and receive His gifts.  Here you will gather, but it will be different going forward.  It won’t be like it has been.  For you will be changed—no longer two, but one flesh—joined together by Jesus. 

        In Him is life to the full.  Within His larger love, your love for one another can grow and deepen through every joy and sorrow shared.  On every Eleventh Day of Christmas going forward, you will be given the opportunity to pause and ponder in your heart the marvel of how God changed everything for you on this day.  He has so much more to give you—more than you can even dream of.  But now, in the beginning days of this New Year, you make a very good beginning as you are married—completely and totally and unreservedly, in Jesus’ name.  Amen.