The Service of the Word for the First Sunday after Christmas (December 27, 2020)
This service was not recorded to provide our volunteers and Pastor some time off during this busy holiday season. The video below is compliments of the LCMS video ministry, “Main Street Living.” Pastor Augustine’s sermon is below the video.
Here are Immanuel’s weekly bulletin and announcements:
(opens as a PDF in separate tab/window)
December 27 bulletin
December 27 announcements
Click here for a web version of today’s in-person service at Immanuel:
The Service of the Word for December 27, 2020
Pastor Augustine’s sermon delivered to the saints gathered in person today:
“The Death of 2020”
Pastor J. Philipp Augustine
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)
Only 4 days left, and 2020 will be history. It’s funny how something totally symbolic, like the numbers on a calendar, can make people feel like they’re starting over with something brand new.
A new year means a new slate. A new opportunity. A new chance for things to work out right. And of course, new year’s resolutions, which may or may not happen. But that’s half the fun anyways. Because it’s all about new possibilities.
Are any of us sorry to see 2020 go? Probably not. But when have we ever mourned the death of the old year? I think for most of us, we’re happy to lay 2020 to rest. With only four days left, there’s almost no hope left to squeeze out of it. Especially when one abounding in hope is right around the corner.
We’re always running away from the things that give us no hope; or at least ready to leave them behind. And it’s even more clear in the stuff that actually matters.
Try being friendly with someone who is suffering. Try talking with someone who had a terminal disease – for someone condemned to die. Try visiting with someone who has been told that there is no hope; who believes there is no hope. When death itself is right around the corner. It is one of the most difficult things you will ever do. Because we want people to have hope in spite of a hopeless situation.
In our text today, Simeon did have hope. The hope that there would always be a New Year’s Day for him and thus, life for him. As long as God waited to send His Son, there would always be a tomorrow. After all, “It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.”
What would you do with a promise like that? A promise that let you know that as long as you hadn’t seen the Lord’s Christ, there would most certainly be a tomorrow for you, no matter what? Every day would have the hope of New Year’s Day.
Until one day, when a young mother and father bring their baby to the temple for his dedication and mother’s purification and the appointed offerings. And the Holy Spirit reveals to Simeon that this child is in fact the Lord’s Christ. God’s Word had been fulfilled.
Therefore, tomorrow may never come again for him. Because for Simeon, where Christ is, death is right around the corner. Could we bear that day? Could we take it if God came right out and told us, “this is the day you will die”?
And there are no promises that it will be clean. No promises that death will be painless. No promises that we will die in peace. Nor that we will have a good death. Just, today you will die. Or maybe tomorrow. But it will be soon. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
But, to this Simeon said, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”
You are letting your servant depart in peace. A peace greater than the promise of not dying. A peace greater than a pleasant death. Because now Simeon had seen his Savior.
His eyes had seen God’s salvation, prepared in the presence of all peoples. He had seen God’s light. His Son Jesus Christ. A light to bring the Gentiles out of darkness. A light that was itself the glory of all God’s people.
Simeon knew that Jesus brought a peace far greater than the peace of knowing death was not today. That Jesus brought a hope far greater than the hope for tomorrow.
This Savior was one bringing so much, that Simeon couldn’t help but take the infant up in his arms. Because this Savior would bring about a peace that conquered death rather than delay it. This Savior brought a hope that went past tomorrow and into life everlasting.
And yes, this meant that by seeing Christ, death was right around the corner. But it was now better to say that where death was, Christ was right around the corner. This Savior came to follow death. As death shadows us, Jesus shadows death. Stalking it. Hunting it. Killing it. Using the ultimate trap of the cross, and Himself as the bait.
And by going to the cross, Simeon was right, a sword would indeed pierce mother Mary’s heart. Watching her son, the one promised by God, the one she raised, the one she loved, crucified on behalf of the world.
And yet, Jesus goes to the cross to swallow up death forever. That is why He’s our Savior. That is our salvation. Because through Jesus Christ is the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
These words of Simeon are historically used in the Divine Service right after the Lord’s Supper. Although for most of 2020 we have not sung them in order to shorten the service and our time together in one place. We will sing an adaptation before Communion today.
They are perfect words for what we have just received in Jesus’ own body and blood. Because there we have seen His salvation prepared in the presence of all people. We have seen the Light to the Gentiles, and the glory for God’s people. And we are dismissed from there into the world.
These words are also ones we hear in the funeral service. Where we trust that those dying in the faith have been dismissed from this world in peace. And that God’s Word has been – and will be – fulfilled.
Salvation also means resurrection. A hope greater than tomorrow. A peace right there in our presence, as Jesus is present even in death, preparing to give His resurrection at the right time.
We don’t need to wait four days to have hope. We don’t have to have a new year to live in peace. 2020 may be dying in four days, but that doesn’t mean a thing. Because Christ Jesus is here. Right now; for you. Because in the face of death, He is our life. Thanks be to God. Amen.