Don't settle in too much.

Don't get too comfortable sitting there.

We're not meant to be taking our ease here.

We are resident aliens; our citizenship is elsewhere, the scriptures remind us.

That's the truth

 As difficult as it is to hear and to live; it is still the truth.

In last week's Gospel, we heard Jesus being tempted to acknowledge some other Lord, to give in to something more personally gratifying and easier.

He is able to resist; and promises to be with us in all those times when we face the same struggle.

 

We Lutherans look back at the 1930s in Germany and shudder.

That was a time that the church was tested, and most of the church failed badly.

They simply went along with the wildly popular political leader, saying something like “We are Germans first and then Christians, and the church needs to accommodate itself to the winds of change in government.”

The Nazis learned well the technique of repeating a lie often enough so that at least some will start to regard it as the truth.

A large portion of the church and its leadership fell into the Nazi trap.

There were a few who said something otherwise. 

Karl Barth, Martin Niemoller, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and a handful of others said NO!

In the Barmen Declaration, they indicated what in that time and place it meant to be a Christian first and a German second.

Jesus Christ as he is attested for us in Holy Scripture, is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and death.

We reject the false doctrine, as though the Church could and would have to acknowledge as a source of its proclamation, apart from and besides this one Word of God, still other events and powers, figures and truths, as God's revelation.

 

Nothing is to get ahead of, or to be regarded in any way beside Jesus,

the enigmatically tough and resolute Jesus of the Gospels, and not the mystically romantic picture of Jesus of imagination.

 

It is a hard life, harder than we ever imagined, to be a Christian at any time, and especially in our day.

The seductions are many, some obvious, some subtle, all of them deadly.

 

On this 50^th anniversary of our Nave, let's take some time to see how this room is shaping us to stand for something different than simply going along with the latest political whim;

so that we can recognize what is of the kingdom of God and what is not.

From the very first time that I stepped into this room years ago, I have sensed the power of this place, a power that is undiminished by years and experience.

I see a very great contrast with so many of the other buildings around town that have the Victorian pictorial glass.

In that style, so often Jesus is pictured in a saccharine-sweet way,

one who never did a lick of work in his life,

one who pats us in gently affirming ways,

one who gently cuddles a Clorox-sanitized lamb.

We have none of that in this room.

Here there is strength and the power of the Gospel reminding us of the center of the faith and how it means to shape us into faithful disciples of Jesus Christ.

We start with a larger-than-life-size cross which looms over the room, the cross in all of its wood and steel horror.

It is unavoidable. This instrument of death is become the instrument of Christ's victory.  It is not nice, but it is powerful.

 

The central aisle represents the pathway of the Christian life, from the waters of Baptism near the west door to the banquet table of heaven that we anticipate at the communion rail.

The aisle is hard-surfaced and bumpy; no easy or smooth carpeting.

And our lives may be just that way.

 

As one of our hymns says:

Jesus still lead on, till our rest be won;

And although the way be cheerless,

We will follow, calm and fearless;

Guide us by your hand To our Father's land.

 

We have places to sit down along the way when we need to, but only for a bit.

There are no cushioned-padded pews for sleeping, but only players' benches until we are called again into the fray.

 

Time after time we are to ponder the central wonder which the altar front proclaims: The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

Is that talking about Jesus born in Bethlehem?  Jesus presence among us in bread and wine? Jesus coming as ruler and judge at the end of time?

And the answer is of course, Yes...all of them.

Jesus is claiming all of time and space; there is no corner left out where we can boss things our own way, or follow some other pretend-messiah.

Our proper response to Jesus come-in-the-flesh is on the south end of the altar: Thanks be to God, it proclaims.

 

The figure of Jesus appears several times in the windows, most noticeably as the Lord of all creation in the west window.

But it is a different kind of Lord than we might expect.

Philippians reminds us He did not regard equality with God as a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant....

And so even though he is Lord of creation in that west window, he has his arms raised to teach us the posture of prayer to the Father.

 

...and he was obedient unto death, even death on the cross, Philippians continues,

and so the next significant representation of Jesus is in the Praise window where as the second member of the Holy Trinity he is nevertheless suffering on the Cross.

 

The first south window is relentlessly honest about our situation before God.

At the top the sun gleams over a creation which God has announced is good.

In the center of the window, the angel of God banishes Adam and Eve from the garden because they have tried to usurp the place of God.

In the lower right, King David, beloved of God and yet notorious sinner with Bathsheba, sings Create in me a clean heart, O God.

And the lower left the father welcomes the prodigal. (We don't know whether it was the younger son who ran away or the older stay-at-home prodigal!)

Together with the recognition of evil within us there is the persistent love of God searching after us, and beckoning us home.

What a powerful series!

 

The last window on the south side, representing the culmination of the worship service, is not only about the gathering of the disciples in the meal with the risen Christ;

it is also about the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and the work that continues after the conclusion of the worship service, the great catch of fish, the 153 that constitute the entire repertoire of anciently-known fish.

We don't walk down this pathway of the Christian life in order to be in a chummy club, but here at the heart of the building are sent out from here with much to do, a message to share, the Lord Jesus to proclaim.

 

The north side Family life window notes things clearly: symbols for male, female, and family as a joining of male and female are at the top of the window.

At the bottom are the symbols of marriage and baptism as the foundation of family life.

In between are the full range of family activities; growth, work, learning, and recreation.

It is brilliantly forthright in presentation.

 

The final window on the north side shows the activities that we could loosely term “social services”. 

But they are not independent actions; the water from baptism spills down over all of them.

One of the most poignant portions is in the lower left panel where someone is helping a boy wearing leg braces.

I can remember standing in line with my family to get the polio vaccine.

That was a terrifying thing for families to contemplate in the 1950s and 60s, and yet in this realistic window, our fears are named, and it is acknowledged that God will stand with us as we deal with all of them.

 

Honest, bold, forthright...these are the sorts of words that I would use to describe this room.

It is made with honest materials:

what looks like stone on the floor and the altar is in fact stone.

The walls really are brick.

Those arching trusses really do hold up the roof.

What looks like oak really is oak throughout. There is no particleboard and painted veneer.

The organ and piano and bells are real instruments; with air moving through pipes, and strings and real bells being struck with hammers, and all of them being played by real persons.

It is a sacrifice of the beauty of real live flowers that are placed near the altar.

We use as accurate a translation of the scriptures as we can.

We craft prayers that name real persons and their needs.

This is a place for real people to laugh in our joy and weep in our sorrows.

It is the place where we hear the truest words ever uttered, and come to know their power to sustain us, no matter what.

 

This is a powerful place, partly from the mind of its designers, partly from the hearts of those who live and worship here, and most of all, from the intention of the Lord Jesus who is worshiped here.

It is a place of truth, for truth; may it always remain so!

 

As the years go by, our continuing task is to grow into this truth and have it permeate every bit of our lives.

Let us not be seduced by other voices, other messages, that would be easier, more comfortable, more attuned to the culture around us.

...their minds are set on earthly things, as Paul says.

But our citizenship is in heaven, Paul reminds us,...and the Lord Jesus will transform us.

 

We give a prayer of thanksgiving this day for this work of the Spirit in and among us, and give thanks also for this place, this building that continues to boldly shape us in the truth of the Gospel, as it has for the past 50 years.

Look for, listen to, and expect to hear and see, and to practice speaking the truth here.

In the name of Christ Jesus.  Amen.