This sermon was preached by Pastor Doug Irmer, member at St Peter's.
John 1:9-13
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Dearly Beloved,
It’s not really like us to commemorate what are apparently minor saints. After all, the blessed St. John, the Evangelist reminds us of Jesus, “In him was life, and the life was the light of men.” That’s Jesus, the light of the World. That’s Jesus, the light that was coming into the world. That’s Jesus, the Light that is returning to the world, the light that shows and exposes all deeds of darkness. That is the light of the Lord, Jesus Christ.
That is why we are commemorating St. Lucia today. The name Lucia, Luce, means light. We have heard the voice of the Lord Jesus speaking to us in St. Matthew’s gospel saying, “You are the light of the world.” More locally, in St. John’s gospel Jesus promises us and admonishes us, “The light is among you for a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you. The one who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going. While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become sons of light.”
And that is what we commemorate in St. Lucia. We are told that she was a young virgin, martyred under Emperor Diocletian during the last great widespread persecution of Christians under Roman authority.
This is her story: According to tradition, Lucia or Lucy, was born to wealthy and noble parents. Her father died when she was but a child. She decided privately that she would never marry. She vowed to remain a virgin and to bestow the dowry her father had left her upon the poor. Lucy’s mother did not know of this vow and betrothed her to a wealthy young pagan man.
Lucia and her mother visited the shrine of St. Agatha and prayed for the gift of healing. Her mother was restored to health, and with her mother’s health no longer a concern, Lucy persuaded her mother to allow the distribution of her entire dowry to the poor. When the young man to whom she was betrothed learned that Lucy had given away what he regarded as his treasure, he was quite angry. He denounced her to the governor of Syracuse as a Christian. She was then executed according to imperial policy.
All this awful history of the dreadful things that people do to each other can easily hide what is important in this story of St. Lucia. It is the same thing that is hidden throughout the millennia. It is the same thing that God Himself hides for our own good and for our salvation. The Lord Jesus is hidden beneath the humility of an agonizing death on the cross and a glorious resurrection.
We are getting ready and perhaps already celebrating the mystery of Almighty God hidden beneath human flesh. Tonight, and each Lord’s Day, we celebrate the Lord Jesus Christ hidden beneath humble forms of bread and wine. Such hiddenness is for our good. Were Almighty God to appear to us in His glory and majesty and splendor, we would be destroyed because we sinners cannot stand in the presence of the perfect God.
That is why God the Father gives us Christmas. At Christmas God enwraps His eternal and almighty Son in human flesh so that we might receive Him as He is given to us. We sing, “Jesus has come and brings pleasure eternal.” And it is that coming that we celebrate, precisely because He is coming again. That’s the story and the importance of the commemoration of St. Lucia and of all the saints. “A noble army, men and boys, the matron and the maid, around the Savior’s throne rejoice, in robes of light arrayed. They climbed the steep ascent of heaven through peril, toil and pain. O God, to us may grace be given to follow in their train! These martyrs died with clear eyes, seeing the promise of their salvation.
Any martyr’s death is participation in Christ’s death. While we prepare for Christmas during the Advent season, we also prepare for our martyrdom, our death in this world. We are in Christ. In our baptism we are joined to Christ. He makes us one with Himself as the old Adam drowns and dies by contrition and repentance and the new man comes forth to arise and live before Christ in righteousness and purity forever.
We can see in the first reading for this evening from Revelation, 19, a clear view of what this martyrdom looks like in heaven:
And from the throne came a voice saying, “Praise our God, all you his servants, you who fear him, small and great.” Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out, “Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”— for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.”
You all are familiar with the Athanasian Creed, that beautiful confession of faith that is so explicit, but takes so long to confess that we use it only on Holy Trinity Sunday. At the very end it has those sentences that make us Lutherans uncomfortable:
At [Christ’s] coming, all people will rise again with their bodies and give an account concerning their own deeds. And those who have done good will enter into eternal life, and those who have done evil into eternal fire.
Don’t we Lutherans believe, teach and confess that it is faith in Christ and His great work of salvation by dying on the cross and forgiving our sis is what saves us? Don’t we believe, teach and confess that our own good works don’t count for anything? Yes, indeed we do. And that is precisely what the Athanasian Creed confesses. The good that we do to enter into eternal life is to trust in Jesus Christ. That trust, and that faith come from God the Holy Spirit.
That is the good work of martyrdom that St. Lucia did and that all martyrs do. St. Lucy trusted that obeying God, receiving Christ’s gifts glorifying Christ in her death was her gift from God and her salvation.
It has always been a bit of a challenge for me to have a saintly image of St. Lucy. Being a child of the 1960’s the Lucy I knew best had red hair and a husband with a thick Cuban accent. Lucille O’Ball was by no means a saint either in life or on her television show, although her flaming red hair was perhaps a reminder of St. Lucia.
It is the light of Jesus Christ that shines in us that makes us all God’s saints. It is our suffering for bearing witness to this light that makes us martyrs. This is the light that shines in the darkness, the light that no darkness can overcome. This is the light of Jesus Christ, for which we pray earnestly to our Father in heaven, Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy spirit. Amen.
John 1:9-13
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Dearly Beloved,
It’s not really like us to commemorate what are apparently minor saints. After all, the blessed St. John, the Evangelist reminds us of Jesus, “In him was life, and the life was the light of men.” That’s Jesus, the light of the World. That’s Jesus, the light that was coming into the world. That’s Jesus, the Light that is returning to the world, the light that shows and exposes all deeds of darkness. That is the light of the Lord, Jesus Christ.
That is why we are commemorating St. Lucia today. The name Lucia, Luce, means light. We have heard the voice of the Lord Jesus speaking to us in St. Matthew’s gospel saying, “You are the light of the world.” More locally, in St. John’s gospel Jesus promises us and admonishes us, “The light is among you for a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you. The one who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going. While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become sons of light.”
And that is what we commemorate in St. Lucia. We are told that she was a young virgin, martyred under Emperor Diocletian during the last great widespread persecution of Christians under Roman authority.
This is her story: According to tradition, Lucia or Lucy, was born to wealthy and noble parents. Her father died when she was but a child. She decided privately that she would never marry. She vowed to remain a virgin and to bestow the dowry her father had left her upon the poor. Lucy’s mother did not know of this vow and betrothed her to a wealthy young pagan man.
Lucia and her mother visited the shrine of St. Agatha and prayed for the gift of healing. Her mother was restored to health, and with her mother’s health no longer a concern, Lucy persuaded her mother to allow the distribution of her entire dowry to the poor. When the young man to whom she was betrothed learned that Lucy had given away what he regarded as his treasure, he was quite angry. He denounced her to the governor of Syracuse as a Christian. She was then executed according to imperial policy.
All this awful history of the dreadful things that people do to each other can easily hide what is important in this story of St. Lucia. It is the same thing that is hidden throughout the millennia. It is the same thing that God Himself hides for our own good and for our salvation. The Lord Jesus is hidden beneath the humility of an agonizing death on the cross and a glorious resurrection.
We are getting ready and perhaps already celebrating the mystery of Almighty God hidden beneath human flesh. Tonight, and each Lord’s Day, we celebrate the Lord Jesus Christ hidden beneath humble forms of bread and wine. Such hiddenness is for our good. Were Almighty God to appear to us in His glory and majesty and splendor, we would be destroyed because we sinners cannot stand in the presence of the perfect God.
That is why God the Father gives us Christmas. At Christmas God enwraps His eternal and almighty Son in human flesh so that we might receive Him as He is given to us. We sing, “Jesus has come and brings pleasure eternal.” And it is that coming that we celebrate, precisely because He is coming again. That’s the story and the importance of the commemoration of St. Lucia and of all the saints. “A noble army, men and boys, the matron and the maid, around the Savior’s throne rejoice, in robes of light arrayed. They climbed the steep ascent of heaven through peril, toil and pain. O God, to us may grace be given to follow in their train! These martyrs died with clear eyes, seeing the promise of their salvation.
Any martyr’s death is participation in Christ’s death. While we prepare for Christmas during the Advent season, we also prepare for our martyrdom, our death in this world. We are in Christ. In our baptism we are joined to Christ. He makes us one with Himself as the old Adam drowns and dies by contrition and repentance and the new man comes forth to arise and live before Christ in righteousness and purity forever.
We can see in the first reading for this evening from Revelation, 19, a clear view of what this martyrdom looks like in heaven:
And from the throne came a voice saying, “Praise our God, all you his servants, you who fear him, small and great.” Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out, “Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”— for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.”
You all are familiar with the Athanasian Creed, that beautiful confession of faith that is so explicit, but takes so long to confess that we use it only on Holy Trinity Sunday. At the very end it has those sentences that make us Lutherans uncomfortable:
At [Christ’s] coming, all people will rise again with their bodies and give an account concerning their own deeds. And those who have done good will enter into eternal life, and those who have done evil into eternal fire.
Don’t we Lutherans believe, teach and confess that it is faith in Christ and His great work of salvation by dying on the cross and forgiving our sis is what saves us? Don’t we believe, teach and confess that our own good works don’t count for anything? Yes, indeed we do. And that is precisely what the Athanasian Creed confesses. The good that we do to enter into eternal life is to trust in Jesus Christ. That trust, and that faith come from God the Holy Spirit.
That is the good work of martyrdom that St. Lucia did and that all martyrs do. St. Lucy trusted that obeying God, receiving Christ’s gifts glorifying Christ in her death was her gift from God and her salvation.
It has always been a bit of a challenge for me to have a saintly image of St. Lucy. Being a child of the 1960’s the Lucy I knew best had red hair and a husband with a thick Cuban accent. Lucille O’Ball was by no means a saint either in life or on her television show, although her flaming red hair was perhaps a reminder of St. Lucia.
It is the light of Jesus Christ that shines in us that makes us all God’s saints. It is our suffering for bearing witness to this light that makes us martyrs. This is the light that shines in the darkness, the light that no darkness can overcome. This is the light of Jesus Christ, for which we pray earnestly to our Father in heaven, Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy spirit. Amen.
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