View from the Top (Transfiguration 2014)

Transfiguration, (March 2, 2014)
Holy Cross Lutheran Church
Rocklin, California
Rev. Todd A. Peperkorn
(Matthew 17:1–9)

TITLE: “View from the Top”

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. Our text for today is the Transfiguration of our Lord from St. Matthew chapter seventeen, as well as from the Second Epistle of St. Peter.

Dearly beloved. We don’t follow myths or fables when it comes to telling you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ for your salvation. So often when it comes to the life of the Church, we can get the feeling or the sense that these are all just so many stories, one piled upon another. The stories of Jesus’ life can start to feel like fairy tales, with their miracles, parables, morals, great big events, and the like. It’s almost like you’re watching a movie or reading a book. But we can forget that these events took place. Jesus did come into the flesh, sent by God the Father out of love for His fallen children, you. Jesus was born of a virgin girl from Nazareth. He was born, and lived an unassuming life. No one realized who He was as they walked in their midst, even though Jesus didn’t deny His identity as the Son of God.

But St. Peter the apostle reminds us that he and two other disciples were eye-witnesses of His majesty. What does that mean? It means that there was a time when they went with our Lord up to the top of a mountain, probably Mount Tabor, also called Mount Carmel, where Elijah did battle with the prophets of Baal long before. They went up this mountain, and while they were up there, they were given a glimpse, a little taste of his great glory.

Now if you’ve ever sat on top of a mountain, you know what kind of perspective it can give you. Sometimes it’s called the “God’s eye view of the world.” So they see him not clothed in flesh and blood, but they see Him with His divine majesty revealed. They get a little God’s eye view of things, including Jesus Himself, and they let us in on the picture.
So imagine this scene. From this mountain they have a God’s eye view of everything. They can see Mount Arrarat and Noah. They can see back to the angel of God on the mountain, staying the hand of Abraham from killing his son, Isaac. They can see Moses upon another mountain, where God revealed Himself in the burning bush. And again they can see Moses, coming down from Mount Sinai, where his face shown like the sun from being in the presence of God, just like Jesus. They can see Elijah doing battle with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel, probably the exact same mountain they are standing on right then. They can see Jesus preaching the Sermon on the Mount. They can see The Mount of Olives. And they can see Mount Calvary, where our Lord would die for us and for our salvation. There are a lot of mountains to be seen from their view. God has been very busy indeed.

Yet when it comes to our view of God, we forget the big picture. We get so wrapped up in our lives, our problems and trials, that we forget to look up and see Jesus. But Peter, James and John see him. They don’t totally understand it all, but they see Him.

In fact, they not only see Him, they hear a voice. Well, not just a voice, it is really the voice. They hear the voice from heaven at the parting of the clouds. This voice utters the words that all of heaven and earth had been waiting to hear. “This is my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” All creation groans to hear these words. It is as if everything that had happened in the history of the world until that moment was coming to a point. It’s almost too much for us to fathom. Our heavenly Father first uttered those words all the way back in the Psalms, when He said, “This is my Son. Today I have begotten you.” (Psalm 2:7) He said these words again at our Lord’s Baptism, and then again today, at the Transfiguration. He really said those words to you as well, when you were Baptized into His name, like Sequoyah will be/was. When you were baptized, that life of God, that eternal Sonship, became yours forever.

You are on the mountain with Him. And you are changed as well. I know, it doesn’t seem like it all the time. Like Peter, James and John, we can get caught up in a moment. It’s hard to be too critical of Peter saying to Jesus, “Hey, let’s camp out here with you, Moses and Elijah forever! What else could we possibly need?” But Jesus remembers the holy conversation He is having with Moses and Elijah. He is on the mountain now, but He will go into the valley of sin and death for you and me, and come out alive on the other side. That journey must be taken. Otherwise it is all for naught. There is no glory without the cross.

There are some very real parallels here for our own lives in the journey of Christ. In Baptism, we are adopted by grace into the holy family. God makes you His own. The Scriptures attest to the fact that we don’t need a mountain top experience to know this great truth. St. Peter writes again, “we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts…” (2 Peter 1:19 ESV) What this means for you and I is this. In Christ by holy baptism, you now take the same journey which our Lord took in His life and death and life again. There are hills and valleys, high points and low points in your life. Like our Lord, we need time to rest, be refreshed, and to remember what the point of all of this really is. We see this many times in the life of Jesus, where He goes apart by himself for prayer and meditation. Or, we are given a little glimpse of the future glory at this Transfiguration this morning.

This is what the divine service of Word and Sacrament is for you. Your life is one of love for God and service to your neighbor. Yes, I know, sin seems to get in the way of this great life in God all the time. It’s hard to look up and see Jesus. But God, in His mercy and love for you, continues to draw you into Himself, forgive your sins, pick you up, and walk with you on this journey. Sometimes the journey is light and easy. Other times this journey may seem harder than imaginable. But no matter where you are on this pilgrimage to heaven, Christ is here, carrying you all the way. He not only carries you in the hard times, but in the easy times as well. Why? Because you are all his, completely and without exception.

And one day, O Christian, one day the dawn will come. One day you will go home to be with Him forever. And on that day, the vision, the picture we have in the Transfiguration will be complete. For you, too, will shine like the stars. You, too, will converse with Moses and Elijah and all the company of heaven. You, too, will be with Jesus face to face forever.

But until that day, O Christian, rejoice that you are in Christ! Come to His holy table, be fed and refreshed, and trust that His glory which shines forth from the cross is for you, both now and forever.

Believe it for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

And now the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in true faith to life everlasting. Amen.

Esther Mueller Funeral Sermon 02-22-14

Funeral of Esther Mueller, (February 22, 2014)

Holy Cross Lutheran Church

Rev. Todd A. Peperkorn

(Isaiah 25:6–9)

TITLE: “Death is Swallowed Up”

Arden, Sherree, Linda, Dennis, grandchildren, family and friends of Esther: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen. Our text for today is the Old Testament lesson just read from Isaiah chapter 25. We focus on the words, “He will swallow up death forever” (Isaiah 25:8 ESV).

Esther Jane Mueller nèe Womack was born on June 19, 1930 in Memphis, Tennessee. She was baptized into Christ on October 23, 1949. She was confirmed in the Lutheran faith in April of 1953. She met her dear husband, Arden, while serving as a switchboard operator in the Air Force. They were married on September 11, 1952. They have three children, Sheree, Linda, and Dennis, with many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She died in Christ in on February 20 in the year of our Lord, 2014. “And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Blessed indeed,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!”” (Rev. 14:13 ESV)

Eighty-four years is a lot of history. Tennessee, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Alaska, Minnesota, California, and other places in between . Three children, a passel of grandchildren, and that is not even including all of her spiritual sons and daughters here at Holy Cross. She has been a part of this place before there even was this place. I’m sure each of you has your own memories of Esther.

My most vivid memory of Esther is admittedly an odd one. It was a time when our deaconess and I went to visit her and give her communion. We were outside, looking around the yard and fruit. Arden, Pam and I went around the corner to check out the garden, and when we came back. Esther was no where to be found. Where does a ninety-pound woman in a wheelchair go? In the grass. Somehow she had slid off her wheelchair, and when we found her, she was lying in the grass, with her elbow holding her head up, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. To some, falling out of your wheelchair would be the source of anxiety and heartache. But to Esther, it meant lying down in the grass with your elbow propped up, looking at the world going by. She was at rest, and it was a good place to be.

The last several years had been difficult for her. The illnesses of her body seemed to be getting the best of her. Her memory was not what it once was. The vitality which once made her who she is seemed to be slipping away. Her southern accent became stronger, while her body became weaker. I’m sure everyone here would agree that it is hard, very hard.

That is the way of life and death under sin, which we all endure. St. Paul says that the wages of sin is death, and we must all pay those wages out sooner or later. It was no different for Esther. Her life was, like all of us, as broken as her body. She was a sinner, and so death came to her just as it will come to us all.

But that is not the end of her story. Our text from Isaiah speaks about a time when the feast will be greater than you can possibly imagine. Food and wine. Everything will be perfect. No cake, only pie. But the one phrase that really grabs you from this is this, “He will swallow up death forever” (Isaiah 25:8 ESV).

Death is the great enemy. It is the one who takes our loved ones from us, either expected or unexpected. Death messes things up, it causes pain and sorrow so that our very hearts will break for the pain of it. The world may try to give us the picture of death as natural, as a part of life, but we know better. St. Paul was right when he said that “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:26).

But Jesus Christ has conquered both sin and death on the cross. Our Lord paid the price for all of Esther’s sins, and yours, and mine. Our Lord paid the price, and was laid to rest in a tomb. He took death into Himself by His own death. And He rose again from the dead on the third day, so that death would be swallowed up forever.

That is why we sing these Easter hymns this afternoon. We sorrow, but we sorrow with hope, because Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. We weep, but our tears will come to an end at the Last Day. We hurt, but the consolation of God’s love will comfort you and keep you in Him. Esther’s death is hard. It stinks for us who are left here on earth. But she is with saints and angels and all the company of heaven. No more pain, no more heartache. She is at rest in Christ, when goes to the grave with her so that she will rise again at the Resurrection.

Beloved in Christ, rejoice with Esther and with all the saints and angels of heaven. Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, and because of that, you, too, shall rise from the dead. That is your comfort and your hope. That is your home. And some day we will be reunited with Esther and with all those who have gone before us and are now with Christ.

So until that day, Esther, rest in peace. Rest in Christ because Christ is at rest with you. Prop your elbow up and look upon the face of Jesus, who loves you with an everlasting love. We will join you there, soon.

Believe it for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

And now the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in true faith to life everlasting. Amen.

Epiphany 6 – Sermon: “Life and How to Live It” – Matthew 5:21-37

Sermon 2-16-14.mp3

Epiphany 6a, (February 16, 2014)
Holy Cross Lutheran Church
Rev. Todd A. Peperkorn
(Matthew 5:21–37)

TITLE: “Life and How to Live It”

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen. Our text for today is the Gospel just read from St. Matthew chapter five. Our theme for the morning is “life and how to live it.”

In Deuteronomy chapter 30, we hear some of Moses’ last words before dying just shy of the promised land. HE was giving them, if you will, his last will and testament. Moses had been with them for many years by this time. He was 120 years old, and so had been around the block a few times. HE was God’s promiser, His judge and deliverer. HE knew life and death, Life in His name and death when they sought to trust in themselves.

So Moses sets up his words simply. Choose life, that you and your offspring may live. You see, following God’s Word and commands leads to life. Disobeying, refusing to hear and receive God’s Word and promise, that only leads to death.

But why? Why does hearing God’s Word lead to life and refusing to hear lead to death? Is this random or arbitrary? Is God capricious or fickle, simply making up a bunch of rules so that He can watch us mess up time and time again?

Every time you sin, whether you know it or now, this is the question you ask yourself. Why do I have to follow these dumb rules anyway? Sure I know what is better. Surely this Word and command of God doesn’t really apply to me this time. And so you rationalize, you justify yourself and your own actions. At least enough to assuage your conscience for a time.

Really, though, it always comes down to trust. Do you trust that when God says something, that it is with your best interests at heart? Do you trust God when He says that anger leads to murder, that lust leads to adultery, that false promises lead to betrayal, and that trusting in anyone or anything other than Him will cast you into hell? Do you trust God so that you long to keep His Word, that you hate evil and always do good, every time?

Law and Gospel, you see, is all about trust, or faith if you prefer to call it that. Because of sin, your trust in God is broken apart from Him. Because of sin, when Christ says, “follow me,” you by nature say “NO”! And so it is that your broken faith leads to broken and empty promises, unfaithfulness of thought, word and deed. This is why your works are never enough. This is why you cannot think or feel your way to God. You are broken. Repent!

It is because of this powerlessness that Christ has come. God through Moses called upon the people to choose life in His name. When they failed, God sent His Son. He chose your life over His own life. HE trusted that God would raise Him from the dead, and so committed His Spirit into the hand of God, even in death itself. So Christ our Lord takes all of this unfaithfulness into Himself. HE takes your sin and mine. He draws in all this poison, all this filth that we wallow in so very much.

And what does He put in its place? In its place He puts none other than Himself.

This changes everything for poor, broken sinners like you and me. God feeds you the pure milk of His Word, so that you may be filled up with His Spirit.

You see, beloved, you are God’s field, God’s building, as St. Paul says (1 Cor. 3:9). God knows the strife and heartache that infects your soul and spirit. He knows that the temptation to follow your own heart is alluring. He knows how broken your understanding is of His desires for you. And so He feeds you.

But God does not feed you with steak when you are an infant in the faith. He feeds you with the pure milk of His Word, so that you might grow up into Him who is our head.

This is why, when we gather here Sunday after Sunday, we are always about the milk, the first principles, the essence and core of the Christian faith. Law and Gospel. Sin and faith. Word and Sacrament. These things are the bread and butter of what it means to be a Christian. They are your food, your very life.

This day Christ says to you choose life, but you cannot choose it on your own. Because you cannot choose life, He chose death so that you might live in His name. Trust that when God speaks to you, it is for your eternal good. Have faith in the mighty promises of God, because He who died and rose again for your salvation always wants what is best for you. And so He gives you Himself.

Believe it for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

And now the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in true faith to life everlasting. Amen.

Hattie Kerry Funeral Sermon 02-08-2014

Funeral Service for Hattie Kerry (February 8, 2014)
Holy Cross Lutheran Church
Rev. Todd A. Peperkorn
Psalm 27:4

“At Home”

Kenetha, Teanna, Shamari, Rashad, Family and Friends of Hattie, grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen. Our text for today is from Psalm 27 as follows: “One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.” (Psalms 27:4 ESV)

Hattie (Taylor) Kerry was born on July 6, 1926. She was baptized in 1955. She joined Holy Cross Lutheran Church as a charter member in 1988. She married her dear husband, Paul Kerry, on August 1, 1953. He preceeded her in death by many years. She died in Christ in the year of our Lord, February 3, 2014. “And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Blessed indeed,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!”” (Rev. 14:13 ESV)

Hattie has been virtually one of the fixtures here at Holy Cross from the very beginning. I’m sure there are many people here who could tell us more stories than we could count about Hattie. My experience with her has only been the past couple years.

As her pastor, my experience with Hattie has been as the giver and receiver. She is the lady who sits in the back row in a wheelchair. She always has her book open and follows along with the service, more or less. She is always there when I come down with the elder to commune her. And she always said “thank you” when I was finished.

If I could put it this way, I would say that she was, well, at home here at Holy Cross. She always looked like she belonged here. And being one of the very few African American members here, that did not just happen.

But at the same time, it did. The verse from Psalm 27 above really captures what I’m talking about: “One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.” (Psalms 27:4 ESV)

Hattie was a sinner like you and me. She made mistakes, she was broken, messed up and deeply in need, like so many of us. There were a lot of people who took care of her in different ways. This isn’t because she was bossy or excessively needy. It was because the wages of sin is death, and she was dying, like every one of us. That death comes quickly for some, and less quickly for others. But it comes to us all.

But there was a great sense with Hattie that she knew where her home was and is. Now I don’t mean sitting in that spot by the back pew, although that is true. I mean she knew that her home was in Christ. In other words, she knew she was baptized. Her identity is not bound up in places and things, or health or wealth or any of the pursuits that this world clammers after so often. Her identity was bound up in God, and in dwelling with Him forever.

I wish I could have known Hattie better. Every time I talked to her we ended up laughing about something. And for those of you who knew her better than me, I’m sure those memories go far, far deeper. That makes our hurt and sorrow all the harder to bear. But our sorrow is for a time. The book of Ecclesiastes says that there is a time for weeping and a time for joy. Our weeping comes from missing Hattie. She was a mother, a sister, and a friend to many. It is right that we weep and be sorrowful.

But do not weep as those without hope. We weep, but we weep with joy, knowing that the resurrection of the body is coming. We weep with a twinkle in the eye, knowing that our dear sister is without sorrow or pain or sadness. I think Hattie would appreicate a little twinkle in the eye, don’t you? For there will come a time, beloved, when you, too, will be raised from the dead and will be reunited with saints and angels and all the host of heaven. And that includes Hattie, and all of your other loved ones who have died in the faith.

Yes, there will come a day when the dead in Christ will rise up from their graves, and heaven and earth will be whole once again. There will come a day when all of our sorrows will be at an end, when every tear will be dried, and when everything that is wrong will be made right again. Hattie is at rest in that now, but it will be so for all of us. Hattie sees clearly what we can see but dimly, a faint trace of the beauty which is coming our way. But make no mistake about it, it is coming.

Hattie was at home here at the Altar of God, and this continues to be her home, as she is now at rest in Christ Jesus.

So until we meet again, dear sister, rest well. Rest well in the arms of your Savior, until the day we meet again in His glorious presence.

Believe it for the sake of Jesus Christ, our risen redeemer. Amen.

And now the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in true faith to life everlasting. Amen.