Where to start... How about the end?

I am just finishing up a set of prep papers for a meeting tomorrow that my boss has with the CEO at 10:00 AM (it is now 2:22 AM--I back dated to keep yesterday's date on the blog). An assignment I received a half hour before the end of the day. I have 8 tasks and have finished 7.

Part of the reason that I am finishing so late is that I did not arrive home from bible study until around 11:40 PM, nearly three hours later. Sometime during the second half of the study hour, I started growing dizzy. Oh, but what a great discussion we had...almost as good at the nooner bible study I had attended earlier. [How fortunate am I that I can attend two bible studies on the same day?]

When I went to stand, the room shifted and I lost my balance. At first, I thought it was because I had not eaten enough, but eventual tingling hands/feet, blurred vision, and fiery pains running up and down my spine pointed to MS and how stressful (good and bad) the past few days have been.

Pastor D helped me to the car and then eventually left. [Before you think less of him, I told him to go. He could not drive me home and get my car home and had a family waiting for him. I was not honest with him about how poorly I felt, and he is still not used to how quickly I can sink.] By that time, I was lying across the front seats, not caring a bit that different pieces of the car were pushing into my side and that I was making the pain in my back worse. I wanted, as I am oft wont to do of late, to be on the ground. Sitting up is too much work. Fainting from any place other than flat on my back scares me. So, I lay there struggling not to faint and decided to call JW to ask her about her day. Surely she would natter at me...and pray.

Of course, I had had to go to the bathroom before I left work, but raced out the door because I was running late. When I arrived, I did not want to interrupt bible study since it had already started. Oh, I'm here guys, but I have to go to the bathroom. Nope. Not something I wanted to say. So as the pain in my bladder began to build, JW kept suggesting I cast about for some conveniently located bushes. There were two very large ones in a nearby yard. Now, forget that they are the bushes of the president of the church to which I would like to belong. What she didn't understand was that there was no possible way I was getting across the street up over the curb to avail myself of the "natural" bathroom option. Oh, how I wanted a rescue!

When I could not stand the pain in my back and the pain in my bladder any more, I started driving, JW encouraging me not to wreck as I drove through cars on both sides of the street, but could not see clearly enough to make out the distance between them. Just after I started driving, B returned my call so that I could tell her my news (to come later) before she comes this weekend. So, at JW's wise suggestion, I pulled over to talk with her briefly. Then the police came.

Or rather a policeman passed me three times before pulling up behind me. He turned off his lights and then got out of his car. When he turned away, I quickly pulled away, heart pounding and quite scared. A strange man. JW talked me home and even comforted me when the policeman followed me home and parked a short ways from my front door. After much speculation (during which she asked if I had the Book of Concord with me because swinging it would be a good defense--it is rather heavy!), JW concluded that he probably ran my plates and was checking to see if I could enter the address on record. Most likely the folk who live in the house I spent three hours parked in front of reported a nefarious character or something like that. Or perhaps being parked on the street a ways down to talk with B was somehow suspicious.
So, home I made it and back to work, even though getting inside took a rather herculean effort on my part.

We started Psalm 19 during the nooner study, and Pastor blew through 9 verses! He had optimistically hoped to finish the entire psalm, but I believe, given the convivial nature of and rather intelligent group there, he should have at least planned for two weeks. What is interesting about this psalm is that it has the two parts of God's message to us: the Law and the Gospel.

I rather unashamedly admit that as soon as I could, I was peeling A out of her carrier and holding her. Unfortunately, however, she wanted to nurse not to long after that and JW's mother who had just arrived the evening before ended up with A afterwards. I did get one more fix and got to change two diapers. So, a fair bit of baby therapy.took place as I was studying the Word.

However, all of that is not my news. This morning, after an exceptionally dark day and night, Pastor called with a crazy idea: baptizing me on Sunday when he did A. He had already spoken to JW about sharing the day with me (she was rather enthusiastic about that and still is) and had also asked if she and her husband would serve as my baptism sponsors (not entirely sure about this role, but I know there is a liturgy lesson about this in that Catechism lesson book I can consult to learn more than the bits he told me--although the part I liked was they are to serve as my memory should I forget my day of baptism--boy will I need that service!). She called her husband. He agreed. All Pastor had to do was call me.

To be honest, I swore I saw the photo for my boss flash on the phone when it rang. I would not have taken Pastor's call this morning because I am struggling with our "lessoning" (or lack thereof because we ended up talking) from last night and how upset I was. I actually answered the phone, "Hello ___) thinking it was my boss. But, alas, it was Pastor with an offer that still, even in my exhaustion, dizziness, blurred vision, and pain amazes me.

Why would someone who has been a Christian for 31 years get baptized? Well, for the first part, whatever happened when I was two is not clear to me, troubles me for I believe it was more a dedication than baptism. Second, I have learned, studying the catechism, that what I thought was a baptism when I was 11 was instead merely a confession of faith. [Remember the Protestant syllogism.] The Sacrament of baptism must have two parts, water and the Word. While I had water in abundance, the only Word was my own.

So, I have been distressed over the uncertainty I battle when it comes to baptism. I long for, crave actually, the assurance of being able to say, I am baptized, and stand under that Grace. Pastor had repeatedly told me that if we could not prove what happened when I was two was a baptism, then that was easy to take care of eventually. He would baptize me. "No problem," he'd smile. But I want it now, I would think.

As much as I long to finish the catechism instruction so that I might join the rest of St. Athanasius Lutheran Church at the alter, I have feel conflicted about the special dispensation Lord's Supper Pastor gave me. He has offered, in another time of great distress, to do so again, but as much as I really, really, really want to say yes, to beg him to race on over, I do not feel comfortable because I think (note the careful avoidance of the word believe) that people who receive the Lord's Supper ought to be baptized. [I have no quotes from the Book of Concord on this one yet.]

Hence, Pastor got on email this morning to consult with his brothers in faith (fellow pastors) about his idea to do so now, to do so with A, and then checked with JW once he received the encouragement that his idea was sound.

You literally could have knocked me over with a feather when he asked me what I thought about his idea. Did I wanted to be baptized on Sunday? You will never know how much I have longed for that offer! He took my breath away, stilled my turmoil, and opened my heart to such giddiness that I have been floating off the ground all day. I will soon get to say with all certainty, I am baptized! And this after the darkest night I have had in a long, long, long time.

Joy truly does come in the morning.


Baptism is quite a different thing from all other water. This is not because of its natural quality but because something more noble is added here. God Himself stakes His honor, His power, and His might on it. [emphasis mine] Therefore, Baptism is not only natural water, but a divine, heavenly, holy, and blessed water, and whatever other terms we can find to praise it. This is all because of the Word, which is a heavenly, holy Word, which no one can praise enough. For it has, and is able to do, all that God is and can do (Isaiah 55:10-11). (LC, Part IV, 17)

So you see plainly that there is no work done here by us, but a treasure, which God gives us and faith grasps (Ephesians 2:8-9). It is like the benefit of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, which is not a work, but a treasure included in the Word. It is offered to us and received by faith. (LC, part IV, 37)

Yes, it [Baptism] shall and must be something outward, so that it may be grasped by our senses and understood, and by them be brought into the heart. (LC, Part IV, 30)

So, when our sins and conscience oppress us, we strengthen ourselves and take comfort and say, "Nevertheless, I am baptized. And if I am baptized, it is promised to me that I shall be saved and have eternal life, both in soul and body." For that is the reason why these to things are done in Baptism: the body--which can graps nothing but the water--is sprinkled and, in addition, the Word is spoken for the soul to grasp. (LC, Part IV, 44-45)


This great work of God, this gift of salvation, this assurance against the attacks of the devil, this act "so full of consolation and grace that heaven and earth cannot understand it" (LC, PartIV, 39) is to be mine in just four more days!

Knowing that, how can I be discouraged that I lay across the front seats, wishing for another rescue and worried that I will not be able to work tomorrow, let alone finish my work this evening? As, He has repeatedly done in the past, God was sufficient to keep me safe even when I was too chicken to ask Pastor for help for the 1,000th time. So, I choose to end this day dwelling upon Pastor's offer, JW's generous response, and the gift I am about to receive.

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Lest you not yet appreciate the wonder of this day, I shall pass on one more tidbit: JW stayed on the phone with me while I worked on some of the meeting prep, listening and talking even though she was very, very sleepy. After we hung up, I remembered that I had not yet retrieved the mail since I barely made it into the house before falling on the couch for a while. Walking is difficult and I am truly still dizzy, but I decided to check anyway. Somehow I had missed it. Somehow. There was this rather battered box covered with stamps sitting just behind one of the stone lions on my stoop. The label was a green scrap of paper that had a label with my address on it. I recognized it immediately as the outside of the church newsletter. Can you guess what was inside the box? Oh, yes! Praise God in His mercy! My bible and notebook were inside! The pocket Book of Concord was not, but I welcome someone keeping it. [May he or she be as blessed by the doctrine as have I!] I am so very happy to have my bible back with all its highlighted verses and all my notes...oh, my notes! The bible is a bit worse for wear, but I have it once more! The craziest part is that the newsletter is one that I kept from last year in which the part on the catechism covered baptism!

When I referenced Phillip Cary's Sola Fide: Luther and Calvin paper yesterday, I misrepresented one particularly important point.

He presents two syllogisms: Protestantism (as represented by Calvin) and Lutheranism.

Protestantism
Major Premise: Whoever believes in Christ is saved.
Minor Premise: I believe in Christ.
Conclusion: I am saved.

Luther
Major Premise: Christ told me, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit."
Minor Premise: Christ never lies but only tells the truth.
Conclusion: I am baptized (i.e., I have new life in Christ).


If you read the paper (which I highly recommend), you will see how following the first syllogism leads down the pernicious path of your faith actually depending on your own faith. My faith grows because I am believing more. My belief is more certain, so my faith is stronger.

The misrepresentation (because I was typing from memory) was that following Luther's syllogism leads to faith depending on Christ. Yes, that is true. But I believe that Cary purposely did not use Christ. He wrote that Luther believed that faith is dependent upon the Word.

By now you are used to my caveats that I will most likely bumble or butcher the following, but in this case, while I understand the difference, I am not sure that I can adequately convey so.

Something I have relished in this study of Lutherine doctrine is a reverence for Scripture that I have not found, frankly, outside the historical Christian fiction market. As I have written, the liturgy is literally steeped with Scripture. Aside from the ordinaries, taken from the bible, and prayers based on Scripture, each week there are not one, nor two, but three readings from the bible: one from the Old Testament, one from the New Testament, and one from the Holy Gospels. Verses upon verses upon verses. Certainly no apologies for lengthy reading would ever be heard in a Lutheran church! And if you were to study the lesson book on pastoral care, you would learn that it is the duty of the pastor to personally and regularly bring scripture to his flock, reading aloud to them so that they might hear God's Word, especially in times of distress, illness, or sorrow.

It is my decided opinion that for Luther, it is more accurate to say, as did Cary, that faith depends on the Word. The Word acknowledges the triune God, that Christ has always been, not merely a man born in a manger to die on a cross, that the Holy Spirit is given to us to so that we might hear and understand the Word. The Word acknowledges that God's message to His people is Christ, from the beginning of the world until the end times. That message has never changed. The Word acknowledges the Promised redemption of sin for all time by the only One who could accomplish such a defeat of death, of the devil. The Word acknowledges that scripture is the Living Word because Christ is our risen saviour. He was and is and will be. He is our messager. He is Truth. And He is alive.

Despite a poor night's sleep, I thought I would attend bible study as well as church. While I was glad to be able to hear good teaching on Genesis again, I am afraid I did not catch much of the lesson. The reason being I was so cold that I really thought I should just go on home.

Sunday School started upstairs in the sanctuary because it was a week they read Matins. [No, I cannot tell you what that is.] I was able to follow some of the readings, but everyone else seemed to know which parts to read and which ones to skip. While you would think that eventually I might know this, too, I am not so confident where that is concerned. Mostly because of the confusion (cognitive dysfunction) I have from the MS.

That I couldn't follow was less of a problem that you would think because I started getting cold...chills running up and down my body cold. Strange for a person who is so hypersensitive to heat, eh?

Once down in the classroom, after a just a short while, all I wanted was for the lesson to be over. I was hoping that if JW came and I could hold A, then the baby would warm me up and I could share the benefit of her blanket! I also kept thinking about the two men who did not have their suit coats on and wishing I dared ask if I could borrow one. After the class was over, I remained in the basement for a while because I was frankly too discouraged to move.

JW was late because of needing to feed A, but after a while she arrived and handed her over to me! Yeah. Warmth! My only disappointment was that JW did not have the heavy blanket with her, so while I had a warm lump on my chest, I had goosebumps upon goosebumps all over the rest of my body. With incessant, successive waves of chills, it was, again, difficult to concentrate.

But, to be honest, part of that difficulty was also how much it bothers me that I cannot partake in the Lord's Supper. [Oh, is catechism teaching going so slow!] You know that I have not been in church much the past few years, little missing the lack of biblical teaching and proclivity to judging people by works. And in most Protestant churches that I have attended, communion is often a sort of afterthought, done once a month or once a quarter, offered to whomever without regard for their beliefs. Yet since Christmas Day, I have longed for communion in a way that I simply cannot express. And I am selfish enough to say Pastor's special dispensation before surgery was simply not enough for me.

Why then attend this church? Sometimes, when I stare with naked longing at the folks standing in line during communion, I ask myself that question. Increasingly of late, I cannot even concentrate enough to sing the hymns during the distribution because I am overwhelmed by how much I want to be sharing in Christ's body and blood, in His blessing to us that is this particular Sacrament. But it really comes down to a bottom line that is double scored: the doctrine and the people.

I agree with Luther and those reformers who strove to set down and agree upon God's Truth four hundred plus years ago. The more I read, the more I agree, if that makes sense. Pastor D has a paper posted to the left of his blog that is quite an interesting read, discussing the primary difference between Calvin and Luther. For all that I have tried to articulate what I am studying, I have failed miserable to do that which the author accomplished so clearly. In a nutshell (translate butchery time here), Calvin teaches that faith depends, in part, on faith. Luther believes faith depends on Christ. A fundamental, radical, life-changing difference.

So, one underscore of that bottom line is the doctrine. St. Athanasius Lutheran Church is a Quia Confessional Lutheran Church.

The other underscore is that it is a church body that stands shoulder-to-shoulder in that confession of belief. Yes, people there struggle with their faith to varying degrees, but they are there because they publicly and openly confess the same belief.

So, while I left today as the communion portion of the service was starting because I just cannot stand to watch it anymore, I still want to attend this church, to continue studying, and to eventually stand with the rest of Pastor's flock. I still want to be there even when I am fairly sure the new year will come before I am finally able to make the trip to the alter. [For the record, Pastor believes otherwise.]

On the drive home, all thirty-three minutes, I kept the air-conditioner off to thaw out my body. Now, this was just not the best decision for me, since that tipping point of being too hot is very difficult to see coming. But I honestly do not know what to do....

After some Googling a while back, I strongly suspect that my thyroid medicine needs to be adjusted to a stronger dose, but I am not sure how to approach the matter with the fill-in primary doctor. After all, she doesn't seem to care about the fact that I've lost so much weight. And even Dr. Garber had to come around a bit on my taking the medicine in the first place because my numbers were only borderline (the surgeon from 2 years ago started me on the medication). She was finally convinced when I tried to stop taking the medication with very much less than positive outcome.

How do I tell the new doctor that last night it took me two and a half hours to warm up enough beneath an Arctic weight down comforter just to fall asleep? How do I tell her that I was so cold in church that I would have gladly welcomed being hugged by all the men in the congregation at the same time? How do I tell her that I essentially made myself ill and faint just trying to warm up today? [I tumbled out of the car and landed rather roughly on the pavement. At least, being unconscious at the time, I didn't feel the fall, just the aftereffects.]

The sermon that I had to revisit once Pastor sent it out is on freedom...another moment of Christ slapping me upside the head from the pulpit. For you know both these prisons - the prison of sin and the prison of suffering.

It is four weeks now, that I have had great burning, stinging, tearing pain in my back. Each day that passes since the second surgery without this changing discourages me. Each day I get closer to having the stitches removed frightens me. Lying on the ground in the park. Falling out of the car. Lonely trips to the ER. Being confused. Being nauseous. Unable to control my body in recovery. Hungering for the alter. Struggling to shed the past. All are prisons to me. I will not even think about some of them being prisons of my own making. Yet either way I am...free in Christ, no matter what the outward situation...as you can see if you read below.

Now, if this strange man of God would only preach a clear lesson on how to get your heart to follow your head!


“The Freedom of a Christian”
Text: Mark 6:14-29

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

In the Holy Gospel that we heard today, who was in prison?

You will probably tell me John. John the Baptist. And you would not be wrong. King Herod had John seized and bound and thrown into his dungeon.

But now, think some more; think a little deeper. In the Holy Gospel that we heard today, who was in prison?

The answer is: those to whom John preached. For Herod, Herodias, and Herodias’ daughter Salome, were all in the prison house of sin and death. John’s prison was a physical prison that would last only for a time, but the house of Herod was in a spiritual prison that if not stormed and broken down, would last for eternity.

And so John preaches to them, both before he is thrown into prison, and after he is thrown into prison. They are his neighbors, who need his love, who need his preaching, who need his care. They are his neighbors, even after they do him wrong. They are his neighbors, even though they do not consider him as one.

And so John preaches to them, that even as he sits in darkness and chains, they might be set free from their captivity to sin. John preaches to them because, in reality, he is the one who is free. Free in Christ to love and serve. Free in Christ, no matter what the outward situation. Free in Christ to lay down his life for others.

And for his efforts, John is beheaded. And not just beheaded, but made a spectacle of, as his head is put on a platter and given as a bloody gift. But this is not to his shame but to his glory - he is counted worthy of suffering for the name of Jesus Christ.

Which now brings us to you. For you know both these prisons - the prison of sin, and the prison of suffering.

You know the prison of sin, for the truth is that you and your house are not so different from the house of Herod. You know the weight of the chains of sin from which you cannot set yourselves free. You know the darkness of the evil that lurks in your heart. You know the shame of that which seeks to hold you in its captivity. Like the house of Herod, you may look free on the outside, but inside, it’s quite another story, isn’t it?

For what is it with you? What sins have enslaved you? Perhaps they are sins like those of Salome, Herodias’ daughter - those sins you have done for pleasure and delight, but of which now you are ashamed. Perhaps they are sins like those of Herodias, Herod’s illegitimate wife - those sins you have done because of grudges and hatred and anger and revenge. Or perhaps they are sins like those of Herod himself - sins you have done because you wanted what was not yours, or sins you have done because you have feared looking bad in front of your friends more than you have feared looking bad in the eyes of God. And what other sins, for what other reasons?

You know the prison of suffering as well - suffering perhaps even for doing good, like John. Suffering because you have faithfully fulfilled a God-given vocation, like John, but your good was met with hardship, pain, and difficulty. And maybe those God-given vocations of parent or child, boss or worker, student or teacher, friend or neighbor now even feel like prisons themselves. Like great chains weighing you down. Chains from which you would like to be set free. Chains of obligations and commitments and responsibilities, where the good that you would do is met only with ingratitude and even scorn. And all the future looks to hold is more of the same. More demands, more languishing; less joy, less freedom; unfairly treated, unappreciated, and overlooked. Maybe it will even be your head next on the chopping block....

But whether your chains come from your own self-seeking sins or from the self-indulgent sins of others - or both - you have hope. Hope, for the One to whom John pointed, the One of whom He preached, has come. The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The One who came to fulfill all righteousness. The One who came not to be served, but to serve you, and to give His life to set you free. To set you free from your chains of sin and from your chains of suffering. To give you the freedom of a child of God. Freedom from sin, not freedom for sin. Freedom to serve, not freedom from serving. And the freedom to live, even now - no matter what obstacles stand in your way, no matter what dungeons surround you - knowing that you are not alone, not forgotten, and that your suffering is not in vain.

For the One to whom John pointed, the One of whom He preached, has come. The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world has come, for you. To take the sins that you inflict on others, and to take the sins that others inflict on you. To take the sins of your past, and to take the sins of your future. To take the sins that rob you of life, and to take the sins you think you need to give you life. To take all the sins that weigh you down and imprison you and be the bloody gift that sets you free. For He takes the judgment of sin in your place on the cross. He feels the sting of death and is laid in the grave in your place. He enters the prison house of sin and death with you, for you. That in His resurrection, not only He be free, but you be set free.

And so when Jesus burst the bonds of the grave on the Easter morning, it was as if a whole army came with Him. A whole army of people from every nation, tribe, people, and language set free. Free from sin, free from death, free to now live - to live like our first parents, who did not know sin or death, but only life.

That is the life that has been given to you - the life into which you have been baptized. A life where the judgment of sin and the fear of death have been put away and where the sins of others cannot keep you down because of the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection. A resurrection which is not just a future hope, but a present reality that you get to live now. A present reality every time you hear His Word of forgiveness. A present reality every time you receive the gift of His body and blood. A present reality every time you lay down your life for others, in the sure and certain hope that you cannot give more than Christ has given to you. For the water and blood that flowed from His side are a never-ending banquet feast for you and me - a banquet where the devil does not dance, but where the angels sing, and a whole kingdom is given to you and me. The kingdom of God given to sons and daughters of God. Sons and daughters born of water and the Spirit.

That is the faith that enabled John to preach and serve his neighbor in prison or out of prison. No matter his outward situation, he was free in Christ Jesus.

And that is the faith that now enables you to live, in your God-given stations, whether in prison or out of prison, in suffering or in joy. For no matter your outward situation, you are free in Christ Jesus.

For quite frankly, sometimes, when you stick your neck out for others, your head’s gonna get chopped off! A bloody gift to your neighbor. And if it does, what will you do? Retreat into your shell and into a prison of fear? Or in the forgiveness, love, and life of Christ, be raised to live another day? Another day of freedom. Another day of resurrection. And whether you are counted worthy to suffer for the name of Christ Jesus, or spared from such suffering, thanks be to God! Thanks be to God that no matter what comes your way, you are safe in the ark of the body of Christ Jesus.

So today, John is calling you to repentance and to faith. And today, Jesus is calling you to His Table of forgiveness, life, and salvation. So come now, child of God, and live. And then go, child of God, and live. In freedom. For the Son has set you free. And if the Son sets you free - no matter where you are or what you are - you are free. Free indeed!

In the Name of the Father and of the (+) Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Now the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.

(Thanks to Rev. Erik Rottmann and Rev. Dr. Rick Stuckwisch for some of the thoughts, words, and inspiration for this sermon.)

My new writing student asked to switch her lesson for tomorrow to this afternoon. Having little else to do, I agreed. Since she is from my work, I do not charge her. However, I am willing to teach her because she is working on a graduate degree and genuinely wants to learn.

Much to my sorrow, I discovered today that she does not know what a single part of speech is. None of them. Not even a noun.

During the last lesson, I had noticed this and asked her to review the appropriate pages in the writing handbook I had her purchase and wrote out 12 sentences about her life for her to mark what part of speech each word was. She had not done the assignment. Even reading through the handbook, she did not understand.

I find this unbelievably sad.

She is a bright, eager student. She is very organized and always has her work done. Responsibility is her middle name. Yet somehow she managed to go through twelve years of public school and four years of higher education without ever learning much about the English language. I know, I just know she is not alone.

Yet I also know that few would be as sad as I am. No one really cares much about our education system. Oh, it is a great lectern or pulpit issue. But that's all the matter is. The system's broke; nothing we can do about it.

Sixteen years of schooling and yet she doesn't even know what a noun is....

After she left, I talked with JW a bit on the phone, wanting to hear more about her day than think of mine. I also decided to take Kashi for his daily walk.

I have been trying, since I have been walking without the cane once more, to at least take Kashi around the neighborhood each day. Eventually, I hope to be able to take him back to Huntley Meadows.

He was so good to Fancy in her last days. Even though she had been his arch enemy for 10 years, he never once barked at her while she was on the birdie hospital I set up next to the couch or the countless hours I held her. In fact, he spent much of those twelve days curled up on the floor beside her. It was truly uncanny.

He deserves better care than I have given him in months. Hence, the walks.

I was still talking with JW when I set out, but her daughter's hunger was calling, so I finished the walk by myself. Eventually.

As it is wont to happen, I can be out and about and suddenly be aware that I cannot really go any further. Normally, this is after walking and such continuously for about an hour and a half. Today, it was a half hour.

We got to the large park when I started feeling funny. My legs grow heavy and yet are like wet noodles as well. Very strange. I had the equivalent of about three blocks to go: one in the park, one on the side street, and then back down my street. I couldn't do it.

If you haven't noticed by now, I have a tendency to want to be on the ground when I am feeling ill (the bathroom floor, the kitchen floor). I hate fainting and waking up with a sore head or back or shoulder. When I know I am close to doing so or am very weak, I lie down. So, there in the park, I sank to the ground and waited.

It is funny, every day this week the park has been teeming with children, young adults, and families. Today, it was empty.

Then it began to rain.

Kashi had settled himself next to me, his back pressed against mine. As we both started getting wet, I wondered if that was why the park was empty, if everyone but me knew that it was going to rain. I also thought about my phone. But who could I really call? And what would I say? I need help walking. Yes, I got myself here, but no, I cannot get myself home. Sounds stupid to me.

We were both quite wet by the time we arrived back home.

Not even a noun....

I threw caution to the wind today on the premise that since I finished the antibiotics yesterday, perhaps what has been bothering my stomach might have been knocked out in the process.

I threw caution to the wind and had a Fuji apple salad and a Dr. Pepper for lunch.

Much to my sorrow, I could not even finish the latter. My beloved drug of choice made me wretched ill. The meal did not stay down long, and I have had great waves of nausea wracking my body ever since. You know, I have not noticed any pattern of food that does not bother me. Nothing really tastes palatable. Nothing does not cause nausea.

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I am glad that today is Friday. Although I worked but two days this week, I believe it was one too many.

~~~~
From page 216 in the 24-part lesson book:

The Lutheran penitent should be taught to understand that in private confession and absolution, the Word of God is spoken directly to his personal need by his pastor. In the sermon, the Christian hears the "general absolution" preached to the whole congregation. But in private confession, he hears the Gospel preached specifically to him. Faith lives from that Word of God. That's why the Lutheran reformers retained private confession. It was to be thought of as a personal sermon for every penitent who knew before the pastor in confession. Luther emphasized that we should pay more attention to what God says to us through our pastor than what we say to God in our confession. Herein lies the great jewel of private confession: the word of the Gospel. To say that we have no need of private confession and absolution is to say that we have no sin, and therefore, no need for the Gospel.

The bit I pointed out to pastor was that bit about paying more attention to what is said to you during confession than what you are saying. Now, I was focused on the whole personal sermon part--who wouldn't welcome the Scripture being preached specifically to you? I certainly need it! Of course, Pastor D explained to me just why that bit was important: your confession is about sin, while what is being said back to you in absolution is the Gospel!

Another truth to savor is "Faith lives from the Word of God." The Word being made flesh in Christ. The Word being given in holy Scripture. And that word? The Gospel.

I believe I have written of this before, but if I have it bears repeating, even if only for myself. It seems to me the crucial difference between confessional Lutheran doctrine and the non-Lutheran churches I have attended is the emphasis on the balance of law and Gospel, who we are and what God has done for us. But Gospel is not confined to the cross or the New Testament. Instead, the Gospel is an ongoing salvation and forgiveness that God works in our lives even after we are believers in His Son Jesus Christ.

Tonight, I learned for the first time why it is that Lutherans call their liturgy the "Divine Service." I have never understood that title and felt foolish for asking. However, had I done so, I would have again seen that "right relationship" I mentioned yesterday.

Again, from the lesson book, page 70:

Christian worship is grounded in God's action toward us in Jesus Christ. For this reason, Lutherans have long called the chief service of Word and Sacraments the Divine Service. In the Divine Service, God serves the Christian. We respond to Him speaking our deepest need and feeding us with His very body and blood. We respond to Him with faith and thanksgiving.

It is Divine because once again--and properly so--God is doing the work, not us! He is saving us, forgiving us, blessing us. In the past, I have often heard it preached if the only reason you are coming to church is to get fed, then you ought to re-examine your reasons for being there. Translation: Your greatest objective ought to be working for the benefit for the church body. Is that not the very opposite of what I just typed? Now, I am not saying that service at church is not a much needed and valuable labor. What I am saying, probably rather clumsily, is that the purpose of our being there actually is to get fed because that is what God longs to do for us!

Christ did not endure the agony of crucifixion for Himself. Indeed, He willingly hung there for me and for you.

Were he here, I am sure that Pastor D would point out that ever since that first moment of creation, God has been giving to His children. Gospel has been there from the beginning. Every covenant was dependent upon Him, not man. All food and provisions and services come from Him. He fought battles. He established kings and kingdoms and destroyed whole nations. He raised prophets. All in an effort to finish His work in this world. There was and there is nothing that He has not already given to us and will give us again. He even gave His Son and then the Holy Spirit to that we might have life everlasting, so that we might believe. Why then, do we expect that He would ever, for even a moment, desire something different in our worship?

Perhaps I am not 0 for 3. Perhaps, I am .5 for 3.

Pastor D. came by this evening for more catechism teaching. Of course, the short stint ended up being far later than his bedtime because I ended up talking first before we studied.

Last night was so very long and lonely. I do not like being alone in the hospital. I do not like being in the hospital. I do not like the treatment. I do not like struggling to breathe. I do not like my heart racing well into the 160s. I nebulized this morning, this afternoon, and am doing my third dose right now since Pastor was here. However, I did not cough once tonight, so perhaps the key to asthma is much theology talk!

Tell me, if I want to be at the alter as badly as I do, why do I spend so much time talking about other things?

I believe I mentioned that Pastor had given me the 24-part lesson book on Lutheran Catechism as a help (Peter C. Bender's Lutheran Catechesis: A Guide to Catechesis for the Lutheran Catechumen and Family). I will admit that some of it intimidates me, this Christian culture that is so foreign even to one who has walked with Christ for 31 years. Yet, over and over, I find either the doctrine I am learning is what I already believe or is so perfect in the message I am reading that nothing less than absolute beauty comes to mind.

The best part about the lesson book is that each lesson has a section on the liturgy. So, I actually have been given a 24-part lesson on that which I have come to cherish! Now, strangely enough, one of the liturgical lessons is actually on pastoral care.

I jokingly told Pastor that he should get back to studying pages 247 and 248 since he rather stinks at pastoral care! And then I read him the following bit, primarily because of how it struck a resounding note within me when I studied this lesson:

The catechism and liturgy are central to the pastor's ministry of Christ's Word and sacraments to his people. The catechism and liturgy confess the objective faith that has always been confessed in the church and learned by Christians. They are sturdy and dependable. They are comforting and familiar. They are a source of strength when everything else in a Christian's life may appear to be falling apart. They are free from the personality, idiosyncrasies, and whims of any particular person. The pastor uses the catechism and liturgy with his flock because they clearly preach the promises of God in Christ. Faith clings to the Word!

Amen!

I will say, however, that while I wholeheartedly agree here, I would also proffer the opposite: Luther's teaching does address the personality, the idiosyncrasies, and the whims if all people, more importantly of me!

Such an earthy man was he. Some of his writing makes me chuckle, as if I am sitting there in a pub in Wittenburg right beside him. Sometimes he is elbowing me as he points out the sin we both know I battle. Other times, it as if he has laid a hand on my shoulder in comfort. He entreats. He admonishes. He speaks eloquently. His words are bald. I have laughed and wept and rejoiced. All this while studying doctrine! Ah, such is the power of the Living Word...

This afternoon, Pastor and I, it appears, had the same idea. So when my initial words fell silent, I actually got to teach him tonight! Well, it is not as if he learned a thing from me, but we at least got through the rest of the Ten Commandments.

As I have been studying, I have highlighted passages throughout the Book of Concord. Some have been what I believe are key points to the doctrine. Others are that which are key to me. Explaining to him what I understood and reading the personal ones chased away all thoughts of last night and the nausea and how much my back still hurts. [I am masking much better except when I move a certain way and the I am certain that the wound is tearing again beneath the surface. Foul language abounds at that point. I guess, given time, you can get used to just about anything.] So, probably, this evening was as ho-hum for him as it was for me on Tuesday evening. But...okay...dweeby, I know...tonight was exhilarating for me! It is a good and wondrous thing to contemplate the Living Word.

Just how far does he take this pastoral care thing (even beyond the lack of sleep)? Well, despite the long evening, first he asked if I wanted to pray the Litany again (absolutely! been waiting for that one), then he sang me another hymn. It was written by one who was intimately acquainted with sorrow and suffering and grief. The hymn was special to hear, knowing both that he was singing for me and chose one that I would savor. After starting on page 233 and flipping the pages, (I couldn't remember the page number), I found the hymn again on page 423, When I Suffer Pains and Loss. The stanza I liked best is:

Christians, let us be undaunted.
Every day hurl away that which us once haunted.
Is it true that death defeats us?
No! Rejoice, for Christ's voice then in peace will greet us.

~~~~
I have longed to write of what I have learned in the Catechism about the Ten Commandments, but each time I start to do so, I find my words too clumsy, too pale. So, for now I will say this: when people talk about laws, they sometimes distinguish between the letter of the law and the spirit of the law. The spirit of the Commandments has been a familiar sermon topic over the years, but Luther shows how that spirit is ever unfolding until the heart of the commandment, the Truth of the matter, is so great and so perfect that only Christ could fulfill it!

Consider the bits I highlighted from the Fifth Commandment: You shall not murder.

...Gospel of St. Matthew 5:20-26, where Christ Himself explains and sums it up. He says that we must not kill, neither with hands, heart, mouth, sings, gestures, help, nor counsel. (LC, Part 1, 182)

The cause and need of this commandment is that God well knows that the world is evil (Galations 1:4), and that this life has much unhappiness. (LC, Part 1, 183)

It is common practice that no one is willing to suffer at the hands of another. Therefore, God wants to remove the root and source by which the heart is embittered against our neighbor. (LC, Part 1, 187)

In the first place, we much harm no one, either with our hand or by deed. We must not use out tongue to instigate or counsel harm. We must neither use nor agree to use any means or methods by which another person may be injured. Finally, the heart must not be ill disposed toward anyone or wish another person ill in anger and hatred. (LC, Part 188)

Second, a person who does evil to his neighbor is not the only one guilty under this commandment. It also applies to anyone who can do his neighbor good, prevent or resist evil, defend, and save his neighbor so that no bodily harm or hurt happen to him--yet does not do this (James 2:15-16). (LC, Part 1, 189)

Therefore, it is God's ultimate purpose that we let harm come to no one, but show him all good and love. (LC, Part 1, 193)

He would encourage and teach us to do true, noble, and grand works such as gentleness, patience, and, in short, love and kindness to our enemies (Galations 5:22-23). (LC, Part 1, 195)

Yet, lest we become deluded into thinking that our striving to make ourselves holy means anything, Luther finishes with:

But know now that the works of this commandment are the true, holy, and godly works. God rejoiced in them with all the angels. In comparison with these works all human holiness is just stench and filth (Isaiah 64:6). And besides, human holiness deserves nothing but wrath and damnation. (LC, Part 1, 198)

He was speaking of the monks and nuns who had cloistered themselves from society and proclaimed their ascetic life made them holy, that the commandments were no longer necessary. Luther found this separation more for themselves than for God, since it is much easier to have a pleasant life if you have no cross to bear, especially that of patience with your fellow man!

~~~~
Ever the teacher, when I was finished with my "lesson," Pastor couldn't help but chime in with one of his zingers. The second table of the Commandments (4-10) are about God protecting His gifts to us, the gifts of God's representatives, of life, of sexuality, of possessions, of our good name, and of contentment.

Think on that one for a while!

I spent most of the night in the ER, feeling so lonely and desperate. The room I was in was cold and dark and empty after the first three hours, other than the tech who came in to reset the breathing treatment the second and third time. I managed to talk myself out of an admission on the promise of nebulizing faithfully every six hours for at least a week and returning immediately if I started coughing again, but not the solumedrol (steroid) IV.

When I came home, I sat outside on the bench, trying to let go of the turmoil I feel. Even in the dark, I could see that I have probably killed the new azaleas because I haven't watered the yard in the past few weeks. My house is filthy. Other than trying to keep the rug clean for those who've come over, I have had the strength to do little about it. Laundry is piling up. I keep missing Kashi's medicine. I forgot to feed the birds yesterday. All because most of my energy is going toward ignoring the pain in my back and the constant nausea and pretending I feel better than I do when in pubic--the polite thing to do.

I may be forgiven, but I am also very, very tired of being ill, of fighting all the time.

My plan was/is to go back to work tomorrow, but I wonder if I should, even after having already recklessly spent 3 of the leave days I have been saving for a possible medical absence later in the Fall. I decided on Saturday or Sunday or whenever that one nurse's advice to take a week might not have been such a bad idea, especially since, as it turned out, Monday night is the first one I actually slept more than I lay awake thinking of bees.

For the past few weeks, I have spent the mornings coughing clear my lungs, not to put too fine a point on it. After hacking them clear, I have been basically okay for the rest of the day. Several times I thought to go ahead and make an appointment with the pulmonologist, but frankly I am seeing altogether too many doctors of late. And she would be sure to point out the weight loss, the biopsy and surgery, work, and her latest "factor" on why I still need to cart around a nebulizer: my mother! [And she doesn't even know her!]

Today, I coughed this morning, on the way to bible study, and while sitting outside, thinking I finally was clear. I left early so as not to be late, but had intended on sitting in the car so that I might finish the catechism lesson I fell asleep reading last night (so far, I feel as if I am 0/2 with Pastor and am trying to cover my bases more). I did finish it, but ended up asking Pastor to explain the liturgy part some since not everyone had arrived yet. For the briefest of moments, I felt as if I understood how it fit together, but then I lost it. SIGH. I tried to review it this afternoon as well as watch the video I posted earlier again, but my brain is still clouded from...well, just about everything I am taking right now.

JW asked how the lesson went Tuesday, and I shared my despair that I will not finish until 2011. She very quickly responded that he spends a year with the children, so surely I will be finished at least no more than that amount of time. DOUBLE SIGH.

[In case you had any doubts about Pastor D's perseverance, he is sacrificing yet another evening to try attempt #3 on Thursday evening. And in case you are reading this, Pastor, I apologize for being petulant about not getting to ask my questions yesterday. You must think I am worse than the children you shepherd! Probably so, but hunger for doctrine has been known to drive otherwise sane people--not that I classify myself as such--into rather inexplicable behaviour that is a significant departure from their "normal" state.]

So, there I sit, all ready to delve into Psalm 18 again [Pastor announced he planned to finish it and actually did], when I felt the need to cough again. And again. And again. I did use my inhalers and perhaps should have tried to give them more time, but when I slipped the oximeter on my finger, it was at 90 already and I am supposed to nebulize then. So, I did, still coughing and actually still hacking up stuff, which was making me even more nauseous that I have been. When I jumped up to go to the sink so I didn't have to swallow something large, I decided to stay there. And, of course, by then the effects of the albuterol inhaler and liquid were making me tremble and my heart race. I ended up lying on the kitchen floor for most of the study. I was glad that I could hear it, but very disappointed that I couldn't take notes. And I was frustrated because I was being a distraction. [Tonight is evening prayer service again, but Pastor literally barred me from coming, from trying again. Who can blame him? MS stinks. So does asthma.]

Once I felt as if my heart would no longer explode, I returned to the table to fetch my things and listen to the talk around me as everyone was visiting since the lesson was finished. At one point, JW's husband asked if I wanted to hold her daughter A. Such a brave act on both their parts, but JW told me later that she trusted me to know my strength. Arms a trembling, I held her baby for a few minutes before asking her husband (also JW, perhaps JW2) to take A back. In my opinion, that moment of peace helped calm my heart more quickly.

JW drove me home, her husband following in their car with children, friend, and her baby all in tow. When we arrived at the house, she took a gander at my incision and noted it was swollen on the left side and, after an experimental poke I could have told her was completely unnecessary, was tender to the touch. A bit swollen, not too much. But, perhaps, too much because I have been icing my incision since Monday? I find it interesting that in contemplating bees, I have concluded that the worst "stings" are on the left side. [Again, this is me not worrying.]

A nurse from the hospital called on Monday for follow-up and instead of maintaining my resolve to not worry for at least a week, I expressed my frustration at the extreme pain I felt and my fears that I was going to end up with an even greater gaping wound since the burning and stinging were worse now than before the surgery. Ice packs was her only suggestion. She promised to ask around and call me back, but did not. I suspect she was glad her routine-follow-up-obligation was over. The ice does help, but it is temporary. And I am sure that I am risking frostbite since I prefer to get my back so numb that should you care to slice it open again I wouldn't bat an eyelash. Doing so lessens the stinging.

Her other thought was nerve involvement (good as an answer to an unknown, but a less-than-optimal one) that would just take time to go away. Given the MS, that is a logical possibility since the surgeon has now told me twice that this was just a small incision and a "little" wound clean-up. However, I cannot stop thinking about the fact that it feels exactly the same as it did leading up ripping open after the first stitches were removed.

I need a distraction.

JW said she would like to read my novel, so I dusted off the edits that have been lying around since I paid my writing student to do them last August and started plowing in on them. I had picked them up last fall, but stopped on page 27, dismayed at all of the red on the pages. Granted, I told K to be brutal, ruthless even, for I wanted an honest response. The end result? She cut over 4,000 words, noted every bit of sap, gleefully pointed out my seemingly inability to use periods and question marks correctly within quotes, and mercilessly highlighted the most overused phrases in my story.

In addition to the edits and revision, I rewrote much of the teaching and preaching portions to reflect what I have come to believe as right doctrine. I am not sure what that means for the story since I am fairly sure that none of the Christian Historical Fiction out there is Lutheran based, but it did enhance the story and align better with the scripture I used. Funny how Truth can do that!

Unfortunately, that project is done.

Pastor did bring me his sermons to review for two book ideas he has, but I wonder if I understand enough doctrine to edit them truly. They are meant to be spoken and need editing for a reader. He is most nervous about my doing so because he is fearful I will change his voice, strip his ownership. Or, so I believe. He would say it is just the doctrine he is guarding. But any truly talented writer, which he is, will work to protect each word on the page! [Look how strongly I reacted to K's butcher job of my novel!] He says he is willing to duke it out with me on the edits so that we can get the project done. However, how do you argue with your own teacher?

So, here I sit, nebulizing again. I normally do not cough up stuff when I am struggling, but I am doing it again. Should I cart myself on over to the ER? I'd rather not. Wanting a distraction, I chose to blather here, nattering about my worries and struggles and silly thoughts and wishing I could better articulate some of what I have been studying.

I think it was JW, who wrote on her blog, that doctrine should be accessible. Surely a 1,001 others have said the same. Yet I found that one line gave me great pause. I wholeheartedly agree! That has been, in part, the joy I have found in studying the Book of Concord. I have literally spent hours each day reading and studying and taking notes and following verses in the bible and writing questions and reflecting (and sending Pastor too long emails). Yes, I have been hungry. Yes, I feel as if I have come home after 31 years in the Church. But, even so, never before has doctrine been so available, so clear, so straightforward. Right there on the page (or online), I can read what was agreed upon 400 years ago, based on pure teaching, and delve into the theology for myself.

The liturgy, that set form that outsiders often find so strange and restricting, is absolutely beautiful in how it bathes us in law and Gospel, how the breadth and depth of what God has done for us is covered from the beginning of the opening of the service until the benediction. It is rich in tradition, dating back God's people in the Old Testament, and overflowing with scripture. Such power is there in reading the Living Word aloud. Such fellowship is there in doing so with other believers.

And the best part is that all of this is centered around what you could call a "right" relationship between God and man, to fit current Christian "speak." He is the god. I the man. He does it all. He saves all. I can do nothing. Such freedom is there in that! No amount of works can save me or make my faith greater, and when I fail, I can know that I am baptized, I am forgiven anew. When I am broken and weak, His power is made strong. Not 3 steps to achieve holiness or 5 paths to a godly life. The focus is God and His desire to save us, on Christ and His sacrifice in order that we might live and how the Holy Spirit works so mightily in order that we can believe. He is the giver. I the receiver. At the birth of the world. At the Red Sea. At the cross. Every moment we read the Living Word. Each time we enter His church.

Oh, how I wish I could be there tonight....

Imagine you are being stung by a bee. That first initial burning pain that then radiates outward. Then imagine that you are being stung by a swarm. That is how my incision feels. Add unbelievable itching and you understand my misery. For the record, it feel exactly like it did the first time when I knew that something was wrong and ended up with a gaping hole. However, I am working very hard to ignore my fears until at least a week has passed.

Yes, you know me. You know how well that is going.

Below is Pastor D's sermon for today. In brief, it is on how God's power is made strong in our weakness. Now, he preaches from a 3-year lectionary. He does not scheme and plan, plot to assail his congregation with the words he feels they need to hear, but rather the Truth from the three Scripture readings for the week, the same readings his brother pastors are using across many Lutheran churches. Still, I could almost think he was doing just this to speak that which I have been too deaf to hear. Week after week after week. The part that gave me the greatest pause was this:

Because while power and weakness do not go together for the children of men, they do for the Son of God. The Son of God who is rich, yet for your sake became poor. The Son of God who is strong, yet for your sake became weak. The Son of God who is the Lord of life, yet for your sake died your death, that You might have a share in His resurrection. That your sins be forgiven, your death overcome, and your enemy, the devil, be vanquished. That as in Christ, so in you - that God’s power be perfect in weakness.

For the truth is that when Jesus was the weakest, He was also the strongest. For while on the cross, weak and dying, He was bearing all the sin of the world, battling the forces of evil, and feeling the crushing weight of death. He was enduring all the wrath of God against sin and making atonement for sin as THE Lamb of God. He was both priest and sacrifice as He offered Himself as a sin offering for us. And on the cross He was loving, caring, and forgiving, showing the power of His mercy and compassion for you and me and all people. No mightier work was done by His hands than this, even while they were attached to the cross by nails made by His own creatures, and hammered home by fallen hearts. Like Paul, Jesus prayed three times in Gethsemane that His Father take this cup from Him. And like with Paul, the answer was no. The cup and the thorn would remain, that in that weakness, God might unleash His power against sin and death and devil, that you and me and all people might be saved.

Really, I should not put a part ahead of the whole, lest you miss his message, but I did want to give you just a taste of how God works so in our weakness.

Before I add the rest, I wanted to share a bit of teaching that occurred after the sermon (when the two of us were talking in the pews) about the "East-West" thing. Remember what he said when he ripped my post-it note of sins into tiny pieces? He was quoting Psalm 103:12. "As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us."

Well, today, he told me that he had wondered why God wrote East-West instead of North-South. What he learned is this: If you travel North round the world, at some point you will begin traveling South. The poles make it so, as does our equator. However, if you begin traveling East, no matter where you stop, you will still be traveling East. So, East will never, ever meet West. Is that not a marvelous description of His absolute forgiveness of our sins?

Lest I not have fully understood that particular message, God gave me another one just a short while later when I was talking to his wife on a separate matter. She told me how she taught the young children at VBS this week about forgiveness. After drawing a large heart on a dry erase board, she told them to mark it up. The children filled it with many, many black marks. She then erased it to show how God washes us clean. The forgiveness part is that while she knew that the marks were there, she no longer could say where each one was, what each one looked like. They had been forgiven.

I am forgiven despite my many, many, many black marks!

I admit that I missed bits of the sermon in part because JW gave me her daughter to hold and in part because I sat in the back with all the noisy children so that I could be on hand to hold her should she wish me to do so. [I even got to change a diaper today!]

I am very thankful Pastor is such a technology-embracing undershepherd. He emails both the text and the audio each week, as well as posts them on the church's website. This Living Word today is most particularly apt for me....

Should you wish a copy, let me know!


Jesu Juva

“Powerful Weakness”
Text: Mark 6:1-13; 2 Corinthians 12:1-10; Ezekiel 2:1-5

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

St. Paul tells us today: “Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this.” But he never tells us what the “this” is. He calls it “a thorn in the flesh;” a “messenger of satan.” It is clearly something quite difficult in his life; something that he struggled with and which tormented him. But he never identifies it, which I think is a good thing. For although there has been much speculation about what it might be that Paul was talking about here, if we knew what it was I think we’d immediately begin to analyze it, try to calculate it and its impact, and then compare it with what we ourselves are going through in life and try to measure whose affliction is greater. In short, we’d put the focus on Paul and on ourselves, which is not where the focus belongs. That’s not why Paul wrote that here. He did so to put the focus on Christ.

And so that we might keep that focus on Christ and not put it on ourselves, Paul not only does not tell us what the “this” is - what he struggles with, what torments him - he then says this astonishing thing: God’s power is made perfect in weakness.

Now that’s a phrase that’s tossed around quite a lot - perhaps sometimes a bit too carelessly and thoughtlessly. It is what we call an oxymoron - two words, side-by-side (or nearly so), that are opposites. Which is the case with power and weakness. In our world, they don’t go together. You are either one or the other. You can’t be both. So when Paul here puts power and weakness together, he is doing so to draw our eyes away from the things of this world, away from the realm of what we know, away from what we think is possible or impossible, and fixing our eyes on Jesus. On Jesus, the one in whom power and weakness do, in fact, go together. The one who was both. For He is in one person both God and man.

This oxymoron is why Jesus was rejected in His hometown, as Mark told us today. It wasn’t the first time. When He had gone home before, His family thought He was out of His mind (Mark 3:21). Because they knew Him! (Or so they thought.) They knew Him when He was young, and growing up, going to the synagogue and working with His father. And so they could not believe what they were seeing and hearing.

For, they thought, the hands of Jesus were carpenter’s hands, not God’s hands - and carpenter’s hands shape wood, they don’t heal people. And, they thought, the mouth of Jesus was a carpenter’s mouth, not God’s mouth - and carpenter’s mouths don’t utter the wisdom that He did. And, they thought, Jesus was an ordinary man from an ordinary family - and their weakness of faith and strength of unbelief would not let them even believe that a prophet was among them, let alone that God was standing before them. The God who was so strong that He became weak. That He became a man.

This weakness is also why you are sometimes rejected - rejected by the world, and perhaps even by yourself. For what you and others see and feel may belie the reality of God and His Word. And so maybe you have been told and maybe you feel that if you were really a Christian then you would not be the kind of person you are - you’d be better. Or, that if you really believed you would not despair and have doubts - your faith would be stronger. Or, that if you really belonged to Christ, the problems and difficulties you now face would not be so.

But is that not putting the focus on us and not on Christ? Turning us in on ourselves, and thinking that the evidence says that God is not working . . . or will not work . . . or cannot work. This is reading ourselves and determining truth based upon our own thoughts and feelings and experiences, instead of upon God what God has told us is true in His Word. That’s why the folks in Jesus’ hometown would not believe and took offense. It is why we sometimes doubt and disbelieve and take offense. And of that they needed to repent. And so do you and I.

Because while power and weakness do not go together for the children of men, they do for the Son of God. The Son of God who is rich, yet for your sake became poor. The Son of God who is strong, yet for your sake became weak. The Son of God who is the Lord of life, yet for your sake died your death, that You might have a share in His resurrection. That your sins be forgiven, your death overcome, and your enemy, the devil, be vanquished. That as in Christ, so in you - that God’s power be perfect in weakness.

For the truth is that when Jesus was the weakest, He was also the strongest. For while on the cross, weak and dying, He was bearing all the sin of the world, battling the forces of evil, and feeling the crushing weight of death. He was enduring all the wrath of God against sin and making atonement for sin as THE Lamb of God. He was both priest and sacrifice as He offered Himself as a sin offering for us. And on the cross He was loving, caring, and forgiving, showing the power of His mercy and compassion for you and me and all people. No mightier work was done by His hands than this, even while they were attached to the cross by nails made by His own creatures, and hammered home by fallen hearts. Like Paul, Jesus prayed three times in Gethsemane that His Father take this cup from Him. And like with Paul, the answer was no. The cup and the thorn would remain, that in that weakness, God might unleash His power against sin and death and devil, that you and me and all people might be saved.

And as God sent His Son, so also (we heard) did He send His prophets and apostles - in weakness. Taking with them nothing but the Word of God. Yet see how powerful they are in that weakness. The apostles proclaimed repentance, and that Word cut through hardened, sinful hearts, producing repentance and giving forgiveness. They healed many who were sick and cast out many demons with the authority Jesus had given them. Because with God, weakness and power DO go together.

And so it is also with you. For you too are sent out into this world - not as prophets and apostles - but in all of your vocations. And you are sent out weak - armed with only the Word and forgiveness of our Lord. To forgive, to love, to care, to be weak and humble in service to others. Which is often times very hard, isn’t it? Cross hard. And maybe when it is so hard, we think of these words that we’re considering today, and think: But yes, when I am weak, then God will make me strong! Because we want to be strong, not weak.

But be careful! That’s not what the Word says.

St. Paul tells us today that God’s power is made perfect IN weakness. That exactly WHEN I am weak, then I am strong. And so you will not stop being weak in order to be strong. Rather, remember - that with God, power and weakness are not opposites. Your weakness will BE His strength.

Your weakness which drives you to pray prayers that have a power you cannot even begin to image.

Your weakness which drives you to repent and receive a forgiveness that takes away all your sin.

Your weakness which drives you to the Word of God to read and hear not an empty word, but a Word filled with power for it is filled with the Spirit. The same Spirit that created all things in the beginning, and who re-created you in Holy Baptism.

Your weakness which drives you to the altar, to open your weak and dying mouth to eat the Bread of Life and to drink the blood that was poured out for you for the forgiveness of your sins.

Your weakness which drives you to cling to His life - the life of Jesus, which He has come to give to you and me. Life to the dead; life to the sinful; life to the despairing; life to the hopeless; life to the outcast; life to the struggling and doubting; life to all.

When face-to-face with this life, the people in Jesus’ hometown that day were amazed! How could Jesus do such great things? Many today ask the same question - even us, when our weaknesses seem to keep getting the better of us. Yet Jesus has shown us - once and for all - that in weakness He does His greatest work, His saving work, in helpless and weak babies, in children, and in men and women of all ages. For in Jesus, power and weakness do go together. That living we die, and dying we live. This - not riches, fame, health, or ease - this is our Saviour’s glorious work. His work, for you, for ever.

In the Name of the Father and of the (+) Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Now the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.

In the individual confession/absolution service, the last thing the pastor says is the following:

Go in the strength, the peace, and the joy of the Lord, and come soon to receive Christ's body and blood and, being joined to him, live toward the work and the beauty he will fulfill in your for himself and for others. Go, you are free.

The past three days have been rather wretched, full of misery for me. In fact, since early this afternoon, I have been throwing-up because I tried to drink some milk. I believe going without food for as long as I have is beginning to take its toll. So, since milk is my second favorite drink (behind my beloved Dr. Pepper, which I have not had in more than a month now), I thought it might be good to try. Pastor, who had been visiting me, went to get me some. A half-hour later, I started throwing-up. The milk is gone, but the heaves have not stopped. Nor the nausea. Nor the cramps. Nor that awful clammy feeling.

I was sitting here feeling rather desperate when I thought about those words again. I have long understood that what God sees is good is not always what we think of as good. Yet it is, and He is at work in our lives and will perfect that good work until the day of Christ (Philippians 1:6). That has been one of my greatest consolations.

However, tonight, when I think about the ugliness of the past three days, beginning with a rather disastrous time in recovery, that God might actually be seeing that time as one of beauty. It was a time for Him to save me, to protect me, to teach me. It was a time for me to cling to Him, even as I am doing now with my weariness over my rather uncooperative stomach.

Are those not beautiful things?

And then J from the nooner bible study (I shall now call her JW) emailed to tell me that if I were to make it to church, she would let me hold her baby and that, if I wanted, we could sneak into the baby room and she would change my bandage. I wept over such thoughtfulness.

During the 12 days between the stitches ripping open and Thursday's surgery, the open wound on my back did not heal a bit. So, I am on 1,000 mg of a rather strong antibiotic and am supposed to be changing the bandage three times a day for the first week and applying bacitracin each time. Doing so on your own back, especially with constant nausea, is quite difficult. Try as I might not to, I am greatly worried this second incision will not heal as well.

I didn't even have to ask. She just offered!

Despite the darkness, He is caring for me still. Again, is that not beauty?

I received communion today! Granted, it was under special dispensation since I have not finished instruction, but I received it nonetheless!

Under the aegis of pastoral care, Pastor D. offered to come and query me just on the Sacrament so that I could have it before the surgery tomorrow, before being put to sleep again after that disastrous experience with my last surgery.

While I had asked him beforehand if he would also teach about confession/absolution, I did not tell him that I wanted to do that as well.

In John 20:19-23, Christ told his disciples that whoever they forgave, their sins would be forgiven, and those they do not, the sins have been retained. In the Lutheran Church, since pastors serve as undershepherds, they can stand in the office and hear confessions and offer forgiveness, just as the disciplines did in the name of Christ, because it is His Name which forgives.

After we talked about the sins with which I am struggling and that which I battle that is not sin, per se, I asked if he would forgive me. So, we went through that particular portion of the Lutheran Service Book. During one part, both the pastor and the penitent say:

In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry for help come to you.
Do not hide your face from me when I am in distress.
Turn your ear to me; when I call, answer me quickly. (Ps. 102:1-2)
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight (Ps. 51:1-4a)

Then just the penitent continues:

I have lived as if God did not matter and as if I mattered most.
My Lord's name I have not honored as I should; my worship and prayers have faltered.
I have not let his love have its way with me, and so my love for others has failed.
There are those whom I have hurt, and those whom I failed to help.
My thoughts and desires have been soiled with sin.
What troubles me particularly is that....

I admit that I have not been one to confess my sins and ask forgiveness of God. I talk to Him and pray to Him and ask for help in living as He would have me to, but I do confess and I do not ask for forgiveness. I believe I have been missing something critical in my walk with Christ: a fuller understanding that not only were my sins forgiven on the cross, but they are forgiven now. Today. Just as J said so blithely when I bemoaned how much I struggle with honoring my parents...you are forgiven even if you do!

As I have been plowing through Luther's teaching on the ten commandments, I have been increasingly convicted about my poor understanding of the fullness of what God desires of us. For example, take the eighth commandment: You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

According to Luther, this means that we are not to harm our neighbor. Not just with lies. Nay, not only are we also supposed to not harm him with our tongue, we are also to:

Let no one do any harm to his neighbor with the tongue, whether friend or foe. Do not speak evil of him, no matter whether it is true or false, unless it is done by commandment [meaning something such as testimony] or for his reformation. Let everyone use his tongue and make it serve for the best of everyone else, to cover up his neighbor's sins and infirmities (1 Peter 4:8), excuse them, conceal and garnish them with his own reputation. The chief reason for this should be the one that Christ declares in the Gospel, where He includes all commandments about our neighbor, "whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them" (Matthew 7:12). (LC, Part 1, 285-286).

In short, don't gossip! Don't share another's weaknesses and failings. Instead preserve his reputation. While I would not go so far as to say I gossiped, I have complained about my boss in great frustration. I have not covered her as best I can.

Lutherans believe the chief purpose of the commandments is to accuse, to show us the magnitude of our sins so that we might understand the magnitude of the cross and Christ's gift of forgiveness.

It might sound strange, but I still can feel Pastor's hands on my head as he spoke the words of forgiveness.

Among other things, we then turned to instruction and then the Lord's Supper. When he asked me what table I wanted to use, I was a bit confused. Rightly surmising that I wanted to stay sitting on the couch, Pastor started pushing aside all my bibles and study books. Then he laid down a cloth and pulled out this portable cup and plate. I couldn't help but laugh! I like to tease him about the "things" his church uses, candles and such. Strange Pastor that he is, he did not mind my laughter.

So, here in my home, I received communion, the blessing of the presence of the true body and the true blood and the forgiveness we have in Christ's sacrifice. I had to ask him to pause during the service because I needed a few moments. Pastor simply waited.

During communion, we actually followed some of the Divine Service. A part of me wished that we could have read slower, so that I could savor and reflect on the words. I cannot do so in church, but it was already at least two hours past his bedtime. Instead, I paused and let him read a bit before I caught up with him. After listening to that presentation on the liturgy, I certainly understood more this time.

I found it interesting that he shared in communion. I did not know he would. And then we finished with singing! He said he normally has the recipient sing a hymn, but I substituted singing Psalm 121. Of course, I forgot how to sing the last line and was a bit frustrated with my cheese hole brain at that point. Pastor sang one of his favorite hymns: "The Infant Priest Was Holy Born."

I have been nauseated for weeks now and have been gradually eating less and less. As a result, I am now 36 pounds less. I have no appetite, I cannot keep much food down, and now the sight of it turns my stomach. I had hoped with all my heart that this would not be the case with the bread and the wine. Oh, how I had hoped. Such a small bite. Such a small sip.

During his leave taking, I struggled with nausea. I thought that going ahead and taking a shower might make me feel better. But when I bent over to scrub my feet, my stomach heaved and I threw up that small meal. With tears streaming down my face, I sank to my knees and tried to focus on the words I remembered from the service, hoping that the fact that I did not keep down the Lord's Supper would not matter. I cried far too long beneath water that was far too hot for me. [I know that I am supposed to take tepid showers, but I cannot help myself at times; I love a good blanching in the shower!] When I tried to stand up, I ended up fainting, falling out of the tub and pulling down the shower curtain and rod. Kashi was frantic. Instead of waking up to him licking my face, I awoke to his whimpers...and water all over the floor.

The floor is cleaned. Kashi is calmed. And I am sitting here thinking about this evening. [I had asked for one thing else, but I think he forgot.] I wonder about not being able to keep the communion meal down. That weighs heavily on my mind. So, I reviewed both of the services we read together and found myself returning to the confession/absolution one.

After the penitent confesses his/her sins, the pastor offers admonition and comfort, before the two of them read the following:

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away form your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with your free Spirit. (Ps. 51:10-12)

In the way he is oft wont to do, Pastor offered a precious tidbit on this passage. He asked me how God creates things. Of course, I had no answer, though in my mind I thought, He speaks things into existence. Pastor's teaching: He creates them from nothing! So, although we are wretched sinners, God can still create a clean heart within us (from nothing), by the power of His Word, Word made flesh in Christ.

What comfort that is!

~~~~
Note: Posted well after midnight, but I changed the time so as to have the day's date.