+ 18th Sunday after Pentecost – October 12th, 2025 +

Series C: Series C: Ruth 1:1-19; 2 Timothy 2:1-13; Luke 17:11-19

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

“You’re Not Alone”

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

Naomi was far from home. Not Israel. Not Bethlehem. Moab, the ancestral home of Lot’s incestuous relations. To make matters worse, Naomi’s husband, Elimelech, was dead. Her two sons were also dead. No husband. No heir. No home. No inheritance. She had her two daughters in law, but one left. It was just Naomi and Ruth.

St. Paul found himself alone as well. As he wrote to strengthen and teach young pastor Timothy, Paul was bound in chains. Locked in prison, likely in Rome; and awaiting his eventual martyrdom.

The same goes for those 10 lepers. They suffered more than an incurable illness. Leprosy was a social disease. A one-way ticket out of town. Lepers were outcasts. Cut off from family, friends. Cut off from the temple, from worship. Whenever someone drew near them on the road, they yelled out, “Unclean! Unclean!” On top of it all, one of those lepers was a Samaritan, a double loner and loser in the eyes of most Israelites.

Each story, in its own way, begins with loneliness, separation. Naomi and Ruth in Moab. Paul in prison. The lepers outside the village. But they’re not alone. At one point in the past or present, we’ve all been there too.

Now, I don’t mean the alone time we enjoy with a favorite hobby, or in study, prayer, or devotion, like Jesus often did, and calls us to do. I mean the kind of loneliness we see increasing in our digital age; when the more technology and social media “friends”, “likes”, and heart emojis we have, the more disconnected and alone we feel.

And yet, our loneliness hits closer to home. It’s personal. Sometimes we’re alienated as a result of our sin, and its consequences in our relationships with family, friends, and neighbors.

Sometimes, it’s the loneliness and pain we experience as one who has been sinned against, one who has been hurt, abused, or wounded in word and deed by others.

Still, at other times it’s the hurt, despair, and loneliness that affects us for no apparent reason other than the fact that we live in a fallen, broken world, where our body and mind are also plagued with disease. The loneliness of despair and mental illness where you feel entirely isolated and alone even in a crowded room.

But being alone is only part of the story for Naomi, Ruth, Paul, and the Samaritan leper. God did something far greater than they expected or imagined. God met them in their loneliness with his faithfulness, mercy, and compassion.

God led Naomi and Ruth back to the promised land. Back to Bethlehem. Ruth married Boaz. Boaz redeemed the inheritance of Ruth and Naomi, ensuring they would be cared for. Ruth and Boaz also had a son named Obed. Obed fathered Jesse. Jesse fathered David. And David, centuries later, fathered Jesus, the finder of Lost Ones, the Healer of the broken, the Reconciler of Loners. God is faithful to his promise.

St. Paul too, though he was imprisoned, bound in chains, and suffered for the preaching of the Gospel, he was not alone.  This is a faithful saying: For if we died with Him, We shall also live with Him. If we endure, We shall also reign with Him. If we deny Him, He also will deny us.  If we are faithless, He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself.

Those 10 lepers weren’t alone either. “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” They cried out. And he did. He was merciful. Compassionate. Jesus healed them all.

And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, returned, and with a loud voice glorified God, and fell down on his face at His feet, giving Him thanks. And he was a Samaritan.

The whole event is a marvelous preview of the restoration, renewal, and rebirth that He gives to all in his coming resurrection from the dead. Jesus is the Savior of the nations, Jew, Gentile, Samaritan, everyone. That Samaritan realized that in Jesus, he was no longer alone – not in his leprosy, and not in his sin. He fell down on his face for the same reason people and pastors often bow at parts of the service, in reverence and worship before our Savior. The Samaritan praised him, literally made a doxology to Jesus.

Naomi, Ruth, St. Paul, and that Samaritan leper were not alone after all. And neither are you. Whatever pain, despair, worry, anxiety, hurt, or sin has left you feeling abandoned, you are not alone. In Jesus, God joined us in our loneliness. For us who are outcast, Jesus became the outcast on the cross. For us who are alone, Jesus cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” so that we would never be alone. For us, Jesus endured and bore our pain, suffering, loneliness, worry, doubt, despair, disease, sin, and death so that we would never be abandoned.

Our Lord Jesus promises to be with you, not in the warm fuzzy feelings that come and go. Christ is with you in ways you can touch, taste, see, hear, smell: Jesus’ Word of absolution that releases us from bondage to sin and death. Jesus’ water and word that unites us with our kinsman redeemer; a washing of renewal, regeneration by the Holy Spirit. Jesus is with you in his body and blood hidden in the bread and wine where he promises to be with you, bless, feed, forgive, and restore you.

Jesus is also with you in your brother and sister in Christ. “When one member of the body of Christ suffers, all suffer. When one member rejoices, all rejoice,” writes St. Paul. We are his children, his family, and he gathers us in his house.

That’s what this place – this holy house of God – is, and has been for these past 65 years. A safe haven where the outcast, the broken, the lost – the sinner are gathered by Christ. Together in Christ. A harbor of heaven on earth where you are forgiven, healed, and holy in Christ.

For here in our Lord’s house, what God did for Naomi and Ruth, St. Paul, and that Samaritan leper, he does for each of you. In Jesus the lost are found, the lonely are comforted, sinners are redeemed and restored.

God grant it to this congregation, and you his saints, for another 65 years and until our Lord returns.

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

+ 17^th Sunday after Pentecost – October 5^th, 2025 +

Series C: Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4; 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Luke 17:1-10

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

“How Long?”

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

O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?

The prophet Habakkuk begins his book with a prayer that echoes throughout the Scriptures.

It’s not hard to imagine Adam and Eve praying this prayer, wondering when that promised Seed and Son would be born. How long, O Lord?

I’m sure sometime during those 40 days and 40 nights of torrential rains and divine deluge Noah prayed something like this. How long, O Lord?

In his seemingly endless suffering, Job prayed, “How long will you torment me and break me in pieces with words?”

In anguish and surrounded by enemies, David prayed, How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?     How long will you hide your face from me?

In the midst of Israel love affair with false idols, surrounded by the faithless, Jeremiah lamented, How long will the land mourn and the grass of every field wither? How long?

God’s prophet Habakkuk, faced with the injustice and unrighteousness and wickedness of Judah also carried the tune of this ancient lament before the ears of God. O Lord, how long shall I cry for help,
    and you will not hear?

Habakkuk wrote these words long ago in the 7^th century B.C. as Judah as threatened by Babylon without and injustice and evil within. But honestly, he could just as easily have written them today in the 21^st century. The wicked seem to prosper. God’s people suffer. Justice is perverted, if there’s any justice at all. The violence and malice of this fallen world seem to win the day along with every headline. Sin and evil and hate seem to be running amuck, like a free-range child let loose on a playground without no supervision in sight. Iniquity appears to go unchecked, unpunished, unhinged.

And so we pray the prayer that Habakkuk, and so many have prayed before.

How long, O Lord?

It’s a short prayer. But I imagine for most of us, it’s a familiar prayer. How long, O Lord?

When exhausting days turn into sleepless nights. When your calendar is full of more doctors’ appointments than adventures. When you find yourself waiting for a voicemail from the doctor about a diagnosis, or lab work, or what kind of treatment is next. When the only time you see family and friends is at an ever growing list of funerals. You find yourself praying this prayer.

How long, O Lord?

Some think it’s impolite or impious to pray this way. They’re wrong. It’s not. This prayer is a cry for help. For rescue. For God’s righteousness. For things to be made right. For brokeneness to be healed. For wickedness to be thwarted. For grace and mercy to win the day.

Some think it’s a lack of faith that gives rise to prayers like this. It’s not. This is a prayer of faith cried out to the only one who can actually in his time and by his grace answer that prayer.

So whenever you find yourself praying this prayer, know that you’re in good company. Habakkuk, David, Jeremiah. Prophets. Patriarchs. Even Jesus himself prays something similar in Gethsemane: Father if it be your will, take this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.

Also know this…when this is the only prayer your weak voice can utter. When it’s prayed in anger or pain. Despair or fear. Whether you’re sobbing or all out of tears. Bring this prayer before God. In fact, he invites it. Why else would he put it in Scripture for us, other than to give voice to our prayers and cries of lament.

When you have a complaint, and we all have them at some point, who better to bring that complaint to than God. Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, even when all of our words and life are nothing but grumbling and complaining. Complain to God. He can handle it. His grace is sufficient for you, especially when you are weak and it seems as if all is lost.

Whether it’s this wicked world you lament, or your own sin and folly, or the hurt and pain caused by others. Join Habakkuk in praying, How long, O Lord?

After all, these words do not fall on deaf ears, but on the ears of him who promises to hear. Remember. And answer.

Habakkuk’s book begins with a complaint to God. But ends with comforted by God.

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
    nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
    and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
    and there be no herd in the stalls,
¹⁸ yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

Habakkuk rejoiced, even in his suffering, in the one who came to suffer with us. For us.

Jesus’ “How long?” of Thursday night and Good Friday was answered quickly. 3 days. That’s how long. Cross. Suffering. Death. Burial. Tomb. But then…resurrection. Joy. Life. Light.

We’re not always told how long we’ll pray our “How long?” prayers before they’re answered. But, you can rest assured – with Habakkuk and all who have prayed this prayer before – that God will answer. And when he does answer, it’s always the same answer. Jesus.

So lay your complaints at the foot of his cross. Cry out your laments; he is full of steadfast love. And know that whenever you pray, “How long, O Lord?”, he will answer. My grace is sufficient for you.

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

+ St. Michael and All Angels – September 28^th, 2025

Daniel 10:10-14, 12:1-3; Revelation 12:7-12; Luke 10:17-20

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

“Christ’s Warrior Poets”

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

When God gave Moses the holy blueprints for the ark of the covenant in the Most Holy Place, he was told to make a covering of gold. The mercy seat. A place for blood. For atonement. For YHWH dwell with and for his people. And God’s sacred seat, or throne, was adorned with gilded cherubim.

When God gave Isaiah a vision of his heavenly throne, there too, YHWH was seated, surrounded by seraphim crying out, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts.

Since their creation, wherever you find the angels – or better yet…where they find you –  they’re surrounding our Savior and telling the story of salvation. And wherever you find Christ at work – from Genesis to Revelation – you’ll find the Lord of Sabaoth commanding his army of holy angels. They’re his ministers. Messengers. And Heralds. Guardians. Defenders. And Protectors. Servants. Singers. Storytellers and Soldiers.

Today we remember and give thanks to God for St Michael’s and All Angels. Christ’s holy angels are warrior-poets, armed to the teeth with God’s word, shielded by the blood of the Lamb, and wielding the sword of the Spirit. They’re Christ’s sacred storytellers and holy Spartans of heaven. Sent to declare and defend Christ’s victory…the deliver story of salvation.

Today we also remember that while angels are many things in Scripture, marvelous spiritual beings, , one thing’s certain. They’re not cute, cuddly, or chubby. They’re holy. Mysterious. Awesome – in the old meaning of the word. There’s a reason their first words are often, “do not fear.”

And as St. John learns in Revelation, we don’t worship the angels. We worship with them. And they worship with us. Together we bow before Christ. We don’t pray to angels either. We pray with them. They pray with us. Together calling upon Christ. Praising Christ. Pointing to Christ. Protecting you who are in Christ. Proclaiming Christ for you.

For those are their holy marching orders. They’re ministers of God’s mercy. Preachers of Christ’s promises. Messengers of the Messiah. Defenders of Jesus’ disciples. Servants of the Savior for his saints. It’s like the old tales where the king leads his men into the fray. Steps into the breach ahead of his troops. Christ is first over the trench wall.

Wherever Christ goes for our salvation, his holy angels go with him. When Gabriel announced the coming birth of Jesus to the Virgin Mary, Christ’s holy angel sounded his arrival. “behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.”

When Christ’s birth was announced to lowly shepherds, his holy heralds lit up the sky and filled the air with a battle cry: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill to men…for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”

When Christ was in the wilderness, weak from fasting, weary from temptation, having withstood Satan’s wiles, his holy angels ministered to him.

When Christ prayed in Gethsemane, drops of blood gathering with his anguish and prayers, “Father, not my will but yours be done,” his holy angels were there again, strengthening for the blood and thorns and nails of the tree.

When the women came to Christ’s tomb that first day of the week. In the early dawn. Morning was breaking. But the seal of the tomb had already broken. And along with it, good news of great joy, delivered, once again by Christ’s holy angels. “Do not be afraid. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified one. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him.”

Whenever the Scriptures speak of angels you’ll find them surrounding Christ our Savior and proclaiming the story of salvation. For angels are not only servants and ministers and messengers of Christ. They’re also his servants, ministers, messengers, guardians, and defenders sent for you and for me and for all the saints. Though you may never see them this side of the new creation, rest assured, He shall give His angels charge over you, To keep you in all your ways.

Christ’s holy angels rejoice in heaven when you and I, or any sinner, live in that daily spiritual battlefield we call the baptized life of repentance and forgiveness.

Christ sends his holy angels, his ministering spirits, to render service for your sake, for you who inherit salvation. For you are his holy ones, his little children of faith, held in arms of our merciful, heavenly Father.

Christ sends his holy angels to you guard you morning, afternoon, evening and night as you pray, “Let your holy angels be with me that the evil foe may have no power over me.”

Christ sends his holy angels to fight alongside you, for the ancient dragon, having lost the war in heaven, brings his fight to earth. For he knows his time is ticking…ticking…ticking. St. Michael and Christ’s holy angels conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of Christ as their weapon.

To be sure, this fallen angel tries to live up to his name, Satan…accuser. “Look what they’ve done. Said. Thought. They’re guilty…every one of them deserves death.” But he is as Jesus says: a liar. A con artist. A fallen angel. Wherever Christ is, his angelic warrior-poets are sitting in the foxhole with you. Wielding the same weapons you do: the blood of the Lamb and the word of Christ.

In life Christ sends his holy angels as our guardians and protectors. In death, his holy angels serve as our pall bearers, accompanying our souls to Christ until the Day of the resurrection of all flesh.

Until that day, Christ still sends his holy angels to us. Unseen yet present. Invisible yet active. Christ is still enthroned between the cherubim, here on the altar in bread and wine. Christ is still surrounded by seraphim as he sends you holy coals from his altar and puts them on your lips.

Today, we sing with St. Michael and angels and archangels and all the company of heaven as Christ, the Lord of hosts, gathers us to his table, and we join them in singing the ancient song, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Sabaoth. Heaven and earth are full of your glory.” And today, so is his house and his people.

Today, we stand shoulder to shoulder with cherubim and seraphim, hearing and proclaiming the great story of salvation: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

A blessed feast of St. Michael and All Angels, to each of you…

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

 + Feast of St. Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist – September 21^st, 2025 +

Ezekiel 2:8-3:11; Ephesians 4:7-16; Matthew 9:9-13

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

“Riches to Rags to Riches”

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

There’s a common pattern in some of our favorite stories. You see it when… Cinderella goes from sweeping the ash heap to dancing with the prince at the royal ball. Charlie Bucket goes from living in poverty to running Wonka’s famous chocolate factory. Or Harry Potter goes from living in squalor in a cupboard, under a staircase at #3 privet drive to being a famous wizard.

We love these kinds of stories. The character is at a loss. Lowly. The least. Lacking something. And then something or someone – like a glass slipper, a golden ticket, or an owl comes along, and everything changes. From rags to riches.

You may not have realized it, but the story of St. Matthew is this kind of story. Except it’s a true story. And unlike most rags to riches stories in the history of the world, this one isn’t about starting a computer company out of a garage with some wit and grit, or building a steel empire out of elbow grease and ingenuity.

No. Matthew’s story is the opposite. He’s is not the hero of his own story. He doesn’t pull himself up by his sandal-straps. He doesn’t go from rags to riches on his own self-righteousness.

The change in Matthew. His repentance. Righteousness. Restoration. Faith, hope, and love. His life as a disciple, apostle, and evangelist did not come from within. It wasn’t found in his stacks of coins piled up in his tax booth. It all came from Jesus. By his word. Promise. And calling.

As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him.

Matthew goes from tax collector to a disciple under the cross.

Matthew goes from avarice to being an apostle.

Matthew goes from being a traitor and enemy to his fellow Israelites, to being an evangelist, bringing the riches of the Gospel to Israel and to all nations.

Matthew goes from being a slave to mammon to being a servant of the God of mercy. Rich in grace, mercy, and outrageous forgiveness for undeserving sinners…like Matthew…and you and me.

You see, this is a different kind of rags to riches story. Or better yet, a riches to rags to greater riches kind of story. For the story of the call of St. Matthew is a story of the Gospel…from death to life.

A good friend of mine used to say it like this. Christ died for sinners, and you qualify.

Matthew understood that. So did many of his fellow tax collectors and sinners. No wonder Matthew threw a feast for his friends and for the friend of sinners. It was a rather odd guest list. Tax collectors. Sinners. Losers. Lost. Lowly. Least. Oh, and the Pharisees.

Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 

Good question. Why does Jesus eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners? Because Jesus comes for sinners. For Matthew. For you. For me. We’re all what Jesus says in Matthew 6: blessed are the poor in spirit. Beggars before the king. Sick and in need of the Great Physician. Nothing but filthy rags of self-righteousness in need of Jesus to cover us all up in his royal, redeeming righteousness.

Eating at table with Jesus is an invitation to receive him and his forgiveness, his acceptance, restoration, and fellowship with God. Not to embrace or tolerate sin, but to forgive. Heal. Restore. Renew. Redeem.

“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. ¹³ Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

That’s good news, and not just for Matthew and his friends. For the story of Matthew’s call is not only the story of the Gospel. It is your story and mine as well.

Like Matthew we are not the hero of our own story. We are not the ones who go from rags to riches by our own self-righteousness. We are like Matthew was. Dead in trespasses. Lost. Least. Lowly. Losers. Outcast. Broken. Sick. Failures. Lovers of self and our self-made gods. And we’re like the Pharisees too. Smug. Self-righteous. Secure.

But along comes Jesus as he did to Matthew and the Pharisees. “I come only for the sick. For sinners. Are you one too? Will you admit that you need healing? Rescue? Aren’t you tired of your sorrows and suffering and sin? Won’t you come here and check in to my hospital. Come. Give it to me. I’ll take the sin, the pride, the sickness that hurts your soul. I’ll take it all. All your sins…their mine now. All my holiness. Righteousness. Forgiveness. Mercy. It’s all yours now.”

Like Matthew we were traitors and enemies of God, but in Christ you are welcomed, embraced, and reconciled. Like Matthew we were dead in trespasses and sins but now Christ has made you alive in his cross and resurrection. Like Matthew we were unclean, but in Christ you are holy given a seat of honor next to Christ the crucified and risen King. Like Matthew we were guilty by association with sinners and our own sin, but now Christ pardons you: innocent by proclamation:

You’re forgiven all your sin.

Jesus crucified for you is the greatest rags to riches story of them all. Jesus became the traitor, the unclean, sinner, the lost, loser, and least. For you. Jesus swallowed all of our sickness on the cross and in exchange he does for you what he did for Matthew and his friends.

Jesus Spreads a table. Breaks bread. Pours wine. He still delights to eat and drink with sinners. Here, the same body and blood that healed and called Matthew so long ago comes to you today with healing and mercy and forgiveness.

Jesus throws his arms wide open and says, “There’s a place at my table for you. Welcome home. And…Come, follow me.”

A blessed St. Matthew’s Day to each of you…

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

+ Holy Cross Day – September 14^th, 2025 +

Numbers 21:4-9; 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 12:20-33

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

“The Foolishness of God”

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

“Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.”

So goes the wisdom of the world. And there’s some truth in that – knowing there’s a time for talk and a time for silence. And yet, it seems that when it comes to the words and ways of God, he is neither content to remain silent, nor is he afraid of doing things and acting in ways that we, and this fallen world, find utterly foolish.

Holy Cross day, which the church remembers and celebrates today, is one of those kinds of days. A day where we declare and confess and rejoice with St. Paul in the power and promise of God’s seemingly foolish ways.

For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

But the holy cross that bore Christ crucified is not the first time God has done things and acted in ways that seem foolish in the eyes of man.

Remember Noah. YHWH told Noah to do something that looked absurd and crazy and foolish in the eyes of his fellow man. Build an ark. And YHWH told Noah, “I will save you and your family by wood and water and my promise.”

the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

Remember father Abraham and Sarah. God made a promise to these nonagenarians. A promise that sounded as wild and absurd and foolish as they come. YHWH promised that from Abraham’s old age – Hebrews says he was as good as dead – and Sarah’s barren womb, would be born a promised son.

the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

Remember Moses and Israel. YHWH made them a promise. A promise that looked and sounded foolish: take this bronze serpent. Hoist it on a pole. Stick it up in the air for all to see. And whoever looks on this promise of YHWH is saved.

the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

Remember David. YHWH took him from the fields, the lowest and last son of Jesse. YHWH made him king; his anointed one. YHWH crowned him with glory and honor – all of it unearned and undeserved. YHWH made David a promise, a promise that sounds absurd and impossible and downright foolish. “From your family tree, David, from the rotten, stump of Jesse, a shoot will grow. A branch will sprout. And His kingdom and reign will endure forever.

the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

Remember the one to whom all of the patriarchs and prophets and faithful kings of Old Testament point. Remember Jesus. Here is the greater Noah who brings us rest by the wood of his cross and the water of your baptism and rescues you in his holy ark of the church. Here is the greater Isaac that comes from that seemingly foolish birth of Isaac. Here is the one greater than Moses who himself is lifted up on the cross for all to see, and for to save. Here is the Anointed One; David’s son and David’s Lord, the Son of David, Son of Man, Son of God. YHWH in the flesh.

Remember Jesus’ birth. Born of a Virgin. In the little town of Bethlehem. In a feeding trough. Wrapped in ragged cloths. Bearing our humanity in utter humility. Surrounded by shepherds. Creatures of his creation. The Creator nestled in and surrounded by his creatures. By wood. Stone. Straw. and dirt.

To the eyes of man, this all sounds and seems utterly foolish. But in the eyes of God, it’s glorious. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

And now, for a moment, remember a time when you acted or thought or lived foolishly. When you lived as if God and your neighbor and your husband or wife or children did not matter, and as if you mattered most. When you spoke words you can’t take back. Or when you were silent and could have spoken. A time when you were afraid, anxious, and so full of despair and darkness you wondered, “how could God ever love or save a fool like me?”

And then… remember this. That the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

Remember and  rejoice… for the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

Remember what the church remembers today…that holy cross, Jesus became your weakness and mine. On that holy cross Jesus became the fool, died a foolish looking death to save you and me from our folly. On that holy cross, God’s Son, his only Son, was crucified for you. On that holy cross of wood God revealed his great wisdom. In the pain that Jesus bore on that holy cross, is the power of your salvation. And in the foolish and weak and humble death of Jesus you and I find amazing grace that saves a fool like you and me.

Today we also remember and rejoice that God still works that way. Christ gives us His word spoken by fellow sinners that opens heaven. He pours plain water that floods you with forgiveness. He breaks ordinary bread and fills a cup of wine that feeds and satisfies us in the wilderness with Jesus’ body and blood.

This is no fool’s errand. Remember. Rejoice. And rest in this promise. the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

A blessed Holy Cross Day to each of you…

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