Author: John Langenstein

Sermon 01/04/2026 – Losing Christ

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Luke 2:41-52

Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents were unaware of this. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends.

When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously looking for you.” He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them, and his mother treasured all these things in her heart.

And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favor.

Sermon Text

All the parent’s in the room, if you ever feel like you weren’t always the best at parenting your children, I present to you a scripture of vindication. You have not, at least you probably have not, lost your child for several days in the nation’s capital. (I apologize to anyone who left a child in the mummy exhibit at the Smithsonian Institute.) Here, we see Mary and Joseph, who raised a child who was perfect in every way, and they still managed to make a mistake like this. Take that as a sign that you can be a little less strict on your performance with your children.

Beyond this assurance offered to all parents, there is more to take out of this scripture. Today, I want us to look at this story beyond its literal reading. This is a story that takes place every day, in every part of the world, and probably happens to every person at least once in their life. This is the story of two people, as close as they possibly can be to Jesus, lose him in the crowd, and do not even notice it until they are a good ways away from the place where they lost him.

We usually talk about people losing Christ, or losing faith entirely, in terms of people who leave the Church. We know that someone has lost Christ when they cut off all ties from Christianity. The obvious moments where people publicly recant their faith or deny Christ are the stories we tell with a quiet fear. The people who once had all the faith in the world, seemingly overnight, just seem to lose it completely. I, however, think that there are many people in the pews who have lost sight of Jesus and the way that we do that is by doing exactly what his parents did in our scripture.

The story we’re told is simple. Jesus and his parents are part of a caravan going to celebrate Passover in the city. The twelve year old Jesus is constantly running, as twelve year olds do, from family to family, playing. They make the long journey, break bread and eat lamb, recalling the salvation that God worked centuries before for their ancestors. They made their way out of town, Jesus nowhere to be seen. They assumed, however, that he was just off with a friend somewhere else in the caravan.

It was not until they were a day’s journey away, probably when everyone was settling in for the night, that they realized what had happened.

They rush back to Jerusalem, probably taking another full day to get back. When they arrive they walk all around the city looking for Jesus. They ask all their relatives, they go through alleyways and city streets. They go everywhere they can before they finally decide to go to the Temple. Maybe they thought he might be there, maybe they were desperate enough that only prayer in front of God could give them hope. As they enter the Temple complex, along one of the porticos of the temple, they see their tween son seated among a group of Sadducees and Pharisees, listening to them and adding his own thoughts. When they grab ahold of him, asking how he could leave them, he told them that he never left, he was where he should have been – in his father’s house – it was they who left him behind.

We need to understand this is true in our own life as well. God never leaves us, but we frequently walk away from God. In the darkest moments of our life, though we may struggle to see or feel that God is with us, we are never left alone. Christ is never the one to leave a person behind, we are always the one who step away from Christ. That can feel harsh, it can feel like I am trying to blame people’s lack of faith on themselves, but I am just trying to establish a baseline of truth. God does not abandon us, but we can leave God behind.

I find it hard to blame people who fall away from the faith in the midst of tragedy. When we walk through “the valley of the shadow of death,” we are walking through chaos itself. When we are in the darkest moments of our life, it feels like we are walking through a place God must have never touched. Grief because of loss – of loved ones, of circumstances, of security – all of these things can obscure the presence of God in our life. Unless we are already rooted deeply in our faith, it is easy to get lost in the midst of all that. I think some people stay fully on the right path in the midst of grief.

The more common way of losing track of God, the one I am concerned with today, is what happens when we step away from God outside of tragedy or loss. In the midst of our faith journey, sometimes we can assume that Christ is standing next to us, and we continue walking until we look around and find that he’s been gone for a while. We have a moment when we realize that we have been going our own way for so long that we cannot see Christ in anything around us. We begin to despair, because we begin to see how empty a life we have made for ourselves.

For me, this realization happened in seminary. I had a lot going on in my life and I was in a low place anyway. I was studying to be a minister though, and I was constantly doing “church-stuff.” Yet, in between Greek and Methodist History I was faced with a terrible realization. Despite going through all the motions, I could not see Jesus anymore. I could not feel an ounce of faith within me. I had been drained of all that, left listless and lost, and I could barely hold on during those few horrible weeks where everything seemed lost.

I, like so many people, had lost Jesus. Had moved in my own direction and just assumed that because I was meeting the most basic expectations of faith, that I was perfectly fine. Yet, if I had been honest with myself the signs would have been there. I had no joy in life. I did not pray. I did not seek out chances to worship beyond what was expected of me. I believed in Christ intellectually, I lived out a Christian life in the most basic sense of the word, but here at the threshold of a live devoted to God, I realized my faith had gone completely awry.

Therapy was a big part of fixing my dysfunction in this part of my life, but I also realized that I had to find Jesus again, to backtrack until I found where I had gone wrong. Thank God that Christ is a loving and present God. I found Jesus right where I knew he would be. He was seated in the middle of the Seminary Chapel. I devoted myself to serving in the chapel, it became like a local church to me, and in that place

I found Jesus again, and we started walking forward together again. I was able to find my salvation again, but I had to admit I had lost track of Jesus to do so.

Reflect on your own faith now. Ask yourself the question, “Do I have faith in Christ?” Not just a belief, not just a feeling, do you really see Jesus as present in your life? Does that faith ask you to live sacrificially for others, or does it just approve of what you already want to be doing? Most importantly, is the object of your faith the Lord, Christ who lives in Heaven at the right hand of God the Father, and will someday return to set things right? Is your God alive, not just in words you say once a month, but in your earnest belief and practice of life?

Today, as we come to the Table of Grace, as we take bread and cup, I would encourage you to kneel at the altar and answer that question. If the answer is “Yes!” Then may you receive the bread and cup to strengthen you as you continue to walk in faith. If the answer is “No.” Then let this be the chance to dedicate yourself to the God who offers you eternal life and abundant life besides. If the answer is “I don’t know.” Then let this meal be your chance to come close to God and see for yourself where you stand.

Christ is lost, not because he ran away, but because we have run away. May we seek him earnestly, find him again, and walk beside him toward perfection itself. – Amen.

Sermon 12/28/2025 – Begotten not Created

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

John 1:1-18

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.

There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ”) From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

Sermon Text

There was a time where we did not exist. Does that sound obvious to you? Let me put it a different way. I am not saying that there was a time we had not been born, that would be obvious. What I mean is that, before we were created for this life, we did not exist at all. We do not, as some vainly suggest, exist before our soul enters into our body. The pre-existence of the soul is a concept in all kinds of religious traditions, but it is does not exist within Christianity. Our soul, that essential part of our self that gives life to our mortal body, does not exist apart from the particular creation of our body itself. We do not predate ourself.

This is true of all creatures in existence. Birds, bees, bears, and briar bushes are all only alive and only exist from the moment they enter this world. There is no soul or ideal which precedes them. When a thing comes into being, so too does its life essence, and for human beings that includes the soul which becomes the seat of our personhood. We are not a soul which is given a body, we are a body and a soul mixed together as one being. This is why, when we read Paul’s letters, he is absolutely clear that the resurrection at the end of time is of our physical bodies. Our spirits, which leave our bodies, are then brought back into our bodies at the end of time. As Jesus was risen in glory, so we too are made new through this rejoining. The flesh failings bleed away, until all is perfection from top to bottom, body and soul.

There are many reasons that the Church teaches there is no preexistence of the soul. For one thing, there is nothing in scripture to suggest that our souls exist heavenly before we enter this world. Secondly, the preexistence of the soul opens up a door to a variety of heresies. If we preexist our bodies, then we could sin before we were born. If we sinned before we were born, then no one could truly have a choice in how they conduct their life. If we have spirits that exist before we do, then we cannot truly be responsible for our own life.

The other key feature of our limited scope of existence is that it points us to the singular reality of God’s preexistence. When nothing was, God was. When there was neither a heaven nor and earth, no nebulae or atoms or electron fields – when matter was not even a thought – there was God. God in God’s own eternity existed in perfect unity and love as three persons. We know them as God the Father, God the Spirit, and God the Word (otherwise known as the Son.) These three persons do not have a hierarchy – they are co-equal in a way humans cannot easily understand. Neither is any part of God older than another, the Son has existed for the same amount of eternity as the Spirit as the Father. All are God, all are distinct, yet all are eternal.

God alone has this unique eternity and it is important to remember this as we continue to celebrate the season of Christmas. Jesus existed before he was a human being, the only human to preexist his physical body. However, Jesus did not just happen upon a body either. When Mary conceived her son, the atoms that formed into cells that formed into a person were all crafted specifically to conform to the Spiritual reality of the preexistent Christ. Jesus the human being, born with all the frailty and reality of any other person, was uniquely born into human life with a preexistent soul that his flesh perfectly aligned to – such that the two distinct human and divine wills of Christ nonetheless acted together in perfect sync.

Now, this is all a lot of theology to be talking about at… about 10:30 AM. However, one of the things we as the Church do not do a lot of these days is talk about some of these deeper Spiritual ideas. I had a woman tell me once that she thought her children were fallen angels given human form. She thought this because she read a book about how angels are sometimes born as people to get a second chance, and that’s why some kids grow up rotten. This kind of belief is something the Church has taught against for fifteen hundred years, so why did she read this book and gravitate toward this idea? Because no one told her otherwise, and it sounded good.

I have read many things where someone claims, usually a child, to remember what it was like to be in Heaven before they were born. This is usually treated with some amount of reverence, as if the Child has a unique window into the Heavenly courts. Yet, I have to tell you that any story like this is only that, a story related by a child and their imagination. It is an essential part of our theology that we do not preexist ourselves, and to let up on that belief opens up the door for all kinds of other false beliefs. Sometimes we have to go into the esoteric, the difficult to understand, because without that understanding we will go into more convoluted, more therapeutic falsehoods.

We are granted a vision of God’s eternity in our scripture today. “In the beginning was the Word,” that is the eternally begotten Son of God, “and the Word was with God,” because God has never existed outside of the three persons of the Trinity, “and the Word was God.” Lest we forget that the three persons of God are all co-equal in their divinity. This eternal God came into the world, in the person of Jesus, a perfect union of the Divine and the Human, the first pre-existent thing to hold human flesh. Despite having made all things, this God-Man was not recognized by the people, he was rejected, cast aside, and killed. Yet, through faith in him and his resurrection, the chance is given for us to be more than just a flash in the pan. Though we be not eternal, we might be immortal through faith in Christ.[1]

The life that goes on beyond this one is a life in imitation of Christ. Through his unique existence in all time, we are able to escape death. Not through sublimation into nothing, not through a return to some primordial spiritual state, but through a new, recreation of ourselves. May God show us the complicated truth of incarnation, that we may be truly reborn in Christ’s resurrection. – Amen.

[1] I do not mean that the soul ceases to exist without Christ’s intervention, but that “eternal life,” in the sense of a life of blessed bliss in God’s presence, is granted through participation in God’s grace. The extinction of the soul is not an orthodox Christian belief either.

Sermon 12/24/2025 – Eternity Born into a Single Day

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Luke 2:1-14

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guest room.

Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

Sermon Text

Cold wind blows, lifting dust and sand with every gust. The creak of old wood, the stink of wet straw and dug. The sounds of birth, not of an animal, but of a woman break through the night. The most significant birth in history is about to take place, and it is strangely the birth of someone who predates all of time and space.

Into a humble stall, with poor parents surrounded by scandal, eternity became temporal. Part of the infinity of God took on human form, not just in appearance or as a cloak, but into the deepest parts of his being. The eternal Word of God, now took on a human name. With the cry of his mother, with his own tears in the face of the cold world he now entered, Jesus the Christ was born into the world he was now coming to save. God who knew only the splendor of eternity, now could feel what it was to be limited and cold. God who could see all creation, now knew what it was to barely be able to see past his nose. God, through Christ, now knew what it was to be human.

Angels would sing of the wonder of that night, shepherds would leave their flocks to celebrate something they did not fully understand. Yet, when the noise of the night and its many strange visitors had left, all that remained was a mother, a father, and a child. That child contained a great contradiction – the infinite made finite, the eternal now wrapped in mortal flesh, the Creator now wearing his creation. As the fear of birth gave way to the joy of a child, as Joseph held this baby – not his by blood but wholly his by choice – and as the night slowly gave way to dawn, something had shifted in this world.

We come together today to celebrate that God did not stay in Heaven. God came to be among us. A miracle beyond comprehension took place some two thousand years ago, and we sing about it today because that miracle has changed everything. Salvation was born that night, life was given to a dying world, and all of that potential and wonder was to be found in the most fragile thing imaginable – a newborn, clinging to his blanket, seeking life and warmth and love.

Today, as recipients of this life, as people who have seen the light that broke out in the darkness of our world, let us see ourselves similarly. Though we are people who must go out, to work and to live and to share the light and love of Christ, we are also as dependent as a baby upon that gift we first received from Christ. We cling to God, we seek the warmth and love and life which we are given, we are helpless apart from our source and our salvation. Tomorrow, the work will begin – to feed the hungry, to preach the gospel, to show the world what this night really means. Tonight, however, let us remember our helplessness, treasure the care God shows us because of our helplessness, and remember that eternity chose to be born, to share in that fragility, all so that we might experience a truly joyful, eternal, and loving life.

Wrap your arms around your loved ones, enjoy every bit of comfort and joy you have been blessed with, and give thanks to the God who came down into the mess of our lives, that we may truly live. – Amen.

Sermon 12/21/2025 – Joseph and Epimetheus

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Matthew 1:18-25

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

“Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.

Sermon Text

 Long ago, in the legends of Ancient Greece, there emerged the story of Prometheus. Prometheus was a titan, one of the first divine beings (so the Greeks said.) He loved humanity and strove to make sure they had an advantage over the immense power of the Olympian Gods. First, he tricked the Gods into taking the worse deal in animal sacrifices. Two bags were prepared, one with choice meat placed on top of a pile of bones, skin, and fat, another with a worse cuts placed over the majority of the animal. The Gods chose the better cuts and bones, not knowing they had been tricked.

Later, Prometheus orchestrated his most famous exploit. He stole fire from Heaven and brought it down to earth. This allowed for humans to develop society, to forge metal and cook food. Now, through his work, humanity would grow and thrive upon the face of the earth. For stealing this divine secret, however, he was punished to be tied to a rock and tortured for the rest of eternity. A vicious punishment, but still a better outcome than his brother.

Prometheus had a brother you see, and his name was Epimetheus. He was not as clever as his brother, in fact their names meant “Forethought,” and “Afterthought,” you can guess which he was. The Gods, upset that fire had been stolen from them, devised a way to get back at humanity. They gave Epimetheus a beautiful wife named “Pandora,” and entrusted her to him. He loved her deeply and so when the Gods offered him a box, with the stipulation it must never be opened, he of course entrusted it to her. Pandora, the witless pawn in this adventure, opened the box and from it sprang every evil in the world. Last to exit was the greatest evil of them all, and yet also the one thing that might sustain human life… Hope.

So, why do I begin our meditation on this, the final Sunday of Advent, with a pagan myth about the origin of evil in the world? Well, I am not exactly sure myself. As I was working on planning this season, the story of Joseph learning of Mary’s pregnancy mingled in my head with this old myth, and I think its because I see in Joseph a bit of Epimetheus’s charm. Jospeh was a good man, who loved his wife-to-be, but did not think through his actions very far.

You see, Joseph learned that his fiancé Mary was pregnant, and so he decided he should break off the marriage. If it was his kid, or if he thought it could be, they would just move up the date of the marriage. Even in Judea, babies were born a few months shy of nine months after the wedding fairly often. We know that the baby could not be Joseph’s, because he hears of the pregnancy and immediately knows he is not the father. So, to avoid shaming her, he decides to break off the marriage privately, so no one need know why he did it.

There is, of course, a problem. Joseph and Mary are living in a village. If there are five hundred people living there than it would be a surprise. Among five hundred people, everyone knows everyone else’s business pretty quickly. Joseph, if he followed through with his plan, would save Mary none of the difficulty of her pregnancy. He would, however, avoid having to deal with the fallout himself. I do not think this is selfishness, but lack of planning that leads him to this idea. Joseph, for love of his fiancé, believes breaking off the marriage will fix her problems. He is wrong.

An unmarried woman faces enough trouble today, imagine in a world where she could be stoned to death for adultery. For the rest of her life Mary would be treated as a pariah, her child as worse than that. Mary had no place in this world, not if Joseph followed through with his plan. She and her child would be abandoned… God knows what that would have done if it had been allowed to continue. Thankfully, God had other plans.

An angel visited Joseph in his dreams and explained the situation. Joseph accepted this divine message and married his fiancé. Mary had her child, the child who was not Joseph’s, and yet the child became his own child, through his willingness to abandon his own bad idea. Now Joseph is acknowledged for his incredible love and commitment to a child he could have easily thrown aside. Joseph was willing to turn away from what he thought he knew about life, about the world, and in the process bring life into it, not just through a literal birth, but through supporting our savior as he grew into the ministry he had ahead of him.

What I hope we can take from Joseph’s story, and his shortsighted, knee-jerk reaction to Mary’s pregnancy, is the realization that a bad idea is not the end of our story. When we come into a situation we are not prepared for, we may have all kinds of ideas for how to deal with them. A calm mind will let us see that many of those reactions are not good, and if we take time to think through their repercussions we might be pleasantly surprised with what God can do with a person who thinks ahead. Joseph needed divine intervention to change his mind, and honestly I think we often need that exact same spark to change our ways.

Our faith is built off of Christ’s work within it. When we meet Christ, we should constantly be reorienting ourselves to be more like him. That reorientation requires us to abandon some of the ideas we have about ourselves, about the world, about our conduct. In my own life, I have seldom regretted a decision I made thoughtfully, but have regretted plenty that I made impulsively. When we take the time to think of how our actions impact others, when we are willing to accept a different perspective, when we are open to what God is doing… Then the hope of Christ’s reign is made plain to us. Go forward then, willing to change your mind in the face of God’s work in your life. Think before you act, not just living reactively. Then you will see God’s salvation, and truly know what it means to welcome Christ into your life. – Amen.

Sermon 12/14/2025 – Blazing Trails

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Luke 1:46-55

And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant. Surely from now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name; indeed, his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty. He has come to the aid of his child Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

Sermon Text

Last week we looked to the work of John the Baptist, and how he reveals God’s redemption. This week we look to the Song of Mary that tells us about God’s justice. Mary, the mother of God and the first evangelist, gives us a vision of what God has always done in history. From the first gift of clothing to Adam and Eve to the final victory of Christ’s resurrection banquet, God is always caring for the needs of those without. Likewise, her song casts a vision of what God’s judgment is like – the fire that burns and is not quenched seeks out those who fail to care for their neighbor, it eats up the riches of any and all who do not share what is given to them as a gift.

The world has always been full of inequity, it has denied equality to the people who live within it from the beginning. Cain, following his murder of Abel, founded the first city and in so doing set up a pattern of exploitation.[1] The resources grown by one person were to be eaten by another, those in power would take the best of the best and leave the rest to be divided among the lower castes of society. Centuries later, during the life of the prophet Samuel we see this pattern is not only expected by the people of God, but encouraged. They demand a king even when the prophet warns them he will take their best food and drink and make them into his slaves one way or another.[2] The allure of a stratified society is inevitable when people imagine they might make their way up the ladder someday.

In the United States, the top 20% of earners account for over 50% of the total money made in the United States.[3] The income of two hundred seventy-four million Americans is still less than the top sixty eight million. Even in that top strata, there are a handful of individuals who control the majority of that 51%. The amount of haves drops every year, and the amount of have-nots only gets higher.

While we are still better off than most people in history, indeed even most people in the world today, it seems unclear how long that will remain the case. As we continue to see cost of living increase, jobs become scarcer, and uncertainty build over how people can sustain themselves and their families, there needs to be a source of hope for us to cling to. That hope cannot come from politicians, because they always disappoint. It cannot come from rugged individualism, because it will only leave us to face our struggles alone. If we are to find hope in the state of the world, we must find it in God and, together, follow God’s message to its end.

Mary faced a set of hardships. An unwed woman, she was suddenly cast into scandal when she became pregnant. You could be killed for adultery in Judea, not by any official process either, but by mob violence. She was made to flee her home and stay with relatives to avoid the worst parts of the community response. In a town not her own, with her elderly and pregnant relative Elizabeth (John the Baptist’s Mother,) she received the consolation she needed so that she could trust that God was not lying when her child was called “wonderful counselor.” She was going to be the mother of God’s messiah, and through that child the world would be changed.

The song she sings is our scripture for today. Called the “Magnificat,” because of its opening phrase, “My soul magnifies the Lord,” it captures her bold prophecy that God has regarded her as significant in the midst of the poverty and scandal she sits in. Too poor to even offer a proper sacrifice to God, now a pariah in her hometown, Mary sings that she is blessed for all time because of what God has done.

More than that, she looks forward to what her son will achieve. Tyrants will be ripped from their thrones, the poor will be fed and freed from oppression. Those with comfort and food will be left without anything and those who have starved will have their fill.

The entire order of the world will be turned on its head, and it is all because of what her son would do. Mary, in carrying Christ and giving him up to his destiny, set in motion the salvation of the entire world.

The message of the Magnificat repeats across all of scripture. To those with comfort and with power, a warning is given. God is watching us in the midst of our idleness, in the midst of our apathy, and our unwillingness to care for one another. For those who suffer, hope is offered. There will not always be the dark days we currently are wrapped in. Light will break out, life will find a way into the dead things of this world. There is a new tomorrow. We have a choice, to accept that life and live into it, or to be comforted by possessions and excess until we are destroyed.

The Magnificat is a statement of God’s economy. It is also an invitation. Will we as God’s people care for one another. Will we aid in dismantling the systems of oppression that prevent people from living fully? Can we band together to feed the hungry, free the imprisoned, and to reintegrate those society has abandoned? Will the foreigner in our midst be shown the love they ought to be? Will the tyrant fear the people of God who know that a greater King has already been born than any earthly power could attain toward? We are given the choice – to join Mary in her song and follow her son’s majestic work, or to be lost in the wave that will set everything on its head at the end of time.

Let us serve God now, let us magnify God’s glory, and let us care for one another. – Amen.

[1] Genesis 4:17

[2] 1 Samuel 8:10-22

[3] https://www.census.gov/content/dam/Census/library/visualizations/2025/demo/p60-286/figure3.pdf

Sermon 12/07/2025 – Washing Snakes

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight.’ ”

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region around the Jordan were going out to him, and they were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Therefore, bear fruit worthy of repentance, and do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.s

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Sermon Text

The world is lacking prophets. I do not mean it needs more soothsayers who claim to know the future, there are a lot of those. Nor do I necessarily mean those folks who advocate for social change inspired by scripture, though their work is necessary too. I mean that there are few people who, having received the Spirit of God, bring with them a timeless message in a truly innovative way. I think that there are those who come close to it, but outside of definitions like what is seen in Bruggeman, you do not get a sense that God’s Spirit is inspiring folk like it might have once done in history.[1]

In his writings on the work of the prophets, Jewish Philosopher of Religion Abraham Joshua Heschel states, “[The Prophet’s] true greatness is his ability to hold God and man [sic] in a single thought.”[2] In other words, the prophets are able to see the world from a divine and human perspective, they do not separate out the holy and the mundane. Every moment is a moment where humanity can respond to God, and where God is reaching out to humanity. A prophet is able to discern the heartbeat of God and relate it to the people, to not seek an agenda except to further what God’s Spirit is doing in the now.

A possible explanation for the lack of prophecy comes is given in Christ’s ministry. Christ identifies his life, death, and resurrection as the sufficient and final message to humanity. Christ also points to the unbelief of his own people, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”[3] If we are to understand what we must do in our present age, perhaps we should not wait for someone to come and tell us, perhaps that message has already been revealed in ages past.

The second Sunday of Advent often asks us to turn our eyes to John the Baptist. John was Jesus’s relative and is traditionally believed to be three months older. His work of ministry began in the womb, when he leapt for joy at the sight of Jesus’s pregnant mother. He declared the messiah was entering the world even then. John would flee into the desert as an adult, declaring a simple but powerful message, “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near.” All who approached him were asked to mark their repentance with a new kind of ritual washing, “Baptism.” In being washed in the river, they were cleansed of their sins, and prepared for a new life.

All kinds of people came to see John. All parts of Judea were represented in the faithful people seeking a new life. The majority were probably poor folk, steeped in religion but lacking in all earthly goods. It was not long, however, until John attracted attention of people higher up in society. King Herod Antipas was known for enjoying John’s sermons, even if the prophet was critical of his rule within them.[4] Pharisees and Sadducees regarded him with a mixture of interest and fear – after all, he was not part of their parties and could not be controlled. These two groups, the Pharisees who taught the people and the Sadducees who administered within the Temple, are the focus of our scripture today.

John looks at them and spits out exactly what he thinks about them. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee the wrath to come?” I frequently say this in private. If I hear a minister say something I find objectionable dressed up in holy language, this is usually my response. It feels good, but it also is a clear naming of the stakes. “You who harm the people,” it says, “… why do you now come seeking to be saved?”

Within scripture we are often convinced that we are the recipients of God’s grace without question. We read of prodigal sons and lost sheep and rejoice that God has done so much to bring us home. Rightly so, God truly does reconcile all people and will chase us to the ends of the earth. However, I think we sometimes forget that we are not lost sheep or wasteful children when we sit in a pew and still neglect God’s word. No, we are not the protagonist of a redemption story, we are often an antagonist to God’s gospel. We like the Pharisees and Sadducees presume to be righteous, come to receive God’s grace as if we deserve it, and in so doing prove ourselves to be serpents expecting somehow to be saved.

A just end to the story we are told would be John chasing off the Pharisees and Sadducees. “Begone! For you tie burdens on others until they cannot walk! You who lock up the gates of heaven and seek to make your converts twice as fit for Hell as you are!”[5] Yet, John does not do this. John looks the brood of vipers in the eyes, names their sin of presumption and holy apathy, and scoops up water in his hands as they approach. John looks these men in the eyes and tells them, “I baptize you with water for repentance…”

As we approach the table of God’s grace today, to receive this sacrament to our strength, I would ask us to examine ourselves. How have we, intentionally or accidentally, gotten in the way of God’s work? Do we prevent other people from entering this building, out of fear they are “not like us?” Do we cast a judgmental eyes across the pew each morning, examining who we may take issue with? Do we fail to share the truth Christ showed us, jealously holding onto it like we own it? Examine your heart, name your sins, and find that, miracle of miracles, God is still willing to take us in and change our hearts. God is in the business of washing snakes like you and like me, changing our hard scales and stone hearts into flesh. Let us approach the fountains of grace, and come up renewed. – Amen.

[1] Walter Bruggeman. The Prophetic Imagination. (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Fortress Press. 1978)

[2] Abraham Joshua Heschel. “What Manner of Man is a Prophet?” in The Prophets. (Peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson. 2021.) 21

[3] Luke 16:31

[4] Mark 6:20

[5] Matthew 23:13-15

Sermon 11/23/2025 – Eternal Wanderers

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Deuteronomy 26:1-11

“When you have come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance to possess and you possess it and settle in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that the Lord your God will choose as a dwelling for his name. You shall go to the priest who is in office at that time and say to him, ‘Today I declare to the Lord your God that I have come into the land that the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.’ When the priest takes the basket from your hand and sets it down before the altar of the Lord your God, you shall make this response before the Lord your God:

‘A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors; the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O Lord, have given me.’

You shall set it down before the Lord your God and bow down before the Lord your God. Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house.

Sermon Text

Where do we come from? It’s a question that some of us can answer with complete certainty, others of us are less likely to know what history brought our ancestors to the places that their children would be from. Unless you have a dedicated genealogist, and, on top of that, existing documents to trace your family back, there is bound to be ambiguity. In some ways, I think the slow movement away from obsession with descent is good – it lets us be our own person, not just who we happen to be related to. However, I think that a lack of understanding about how we got here will also open us up to misunderstanding how this world really works.

My family history is muddled. My dad was adopted as an infant. His parents were friends of the family who adopted him and so when he was an adult and started seeking answers he began to find them. Still, in terms of biological descent we are not entirely sure what our lineage looks like. My mother’s family is also full of question marks. We do not have a good idea about who my grandmother’s family were, and it is very likely we will never know anything about my grandfather’s. Genetic testing tells us we’re almost exclusively descended from people in the British Isles, but that still only tells us so much. Our past, in this way, is a mystery.

Yet, perhaps more importantly for my dad’s side of things, we do know how his adopted family came to be in the Hagerstown area. A few decades ahead of World War I, a family left Saxony-Anhalt, leaving behind their home village of Langenstein for the United States. We are not exactly sure what motivated the move. Maybe they saw the writing on the wall in terms of unrest, maybe their industry had dried up, but this little group made their way across the ocean and eventually settled in Maryland. From that line, my dad’s adoptive family came. From them come all the lessons and raising my father took into his life and passed on to me.

The scripture we read today is a favorite of mine. It is simple in its intent, just a prayer meant to be prayed when the first fruit offerings were given at the temple. Yet, they allowed the Israelites to participate in something they would not be able to otherwise – it let them remember where they came from. Every year as the grain and other produce was given to the Temple, the people would recite this story of how they came to live in the land and would be made to give thanks for their current life and to acknowledge that history that allowed for it to be.

The prayer begins by recalling the journey of Abraham out of Chaldea and into Canaan. “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor,” refers both to Abraham and his descendants. The people of God moved into Egypt to escape a famine, and there they lived for many years. After their oppression under Pharoah was too great, they fled with God’s help back into Canaan, the area they had once wandered in generations past. It was here that they were finally able to settle, here that they were able to give thanks, here that God asked them to give from their excess back to God. The final part of this ritual was to celebrate with the priests and with any foreigners who were wandering as they had once done. To bring all people together to celebrate God’s goodness.

That final step was tied to the first. In order to truly celebrate with their foreign guests, the people of God had to remember that they were foreigners for generations. Abraham’s family had left Ur, and settled for a time in Charan. However, Abraham went down to Canaan, then to Egypt, then back to Canaan. He never really stopped moving, even after he took possession of land. His children were likewise always on the move. They were always guests, or intruders, or strangers in the lands that they lived in. In remembering this, God’s people were given a direct reason to relate to the strangers in their midst. These foreign folk, trying to find a home, are not our enemies, they are not different from us, they are just like we were a few generations ago.

Of course, the story they recounted before the altar skips some important parts of the story. When the Israelites return from Egypt, they did not peacefully settle in the land. They ran a program of extermination that wiped out entire cities. The return to the land was not a bloodless migration. The Israelites displaced the native Canaanites and then claimed the land as their possession into antiquity. They claimed to have a divine right, and few survived who could argue with them. The settling of Canaan, the memory of their ancestors as strangers in strange lands, all were a more complicated story than people would be willing to tell.

In our own pasts, we will likewise find complicated narrative. Some of us have genealogy going back to the foundations of this country. The story of colonization in America is messy. People fleeing persecution or seeking a new chance at life came to the Americas in droves. However, to make room for themselves they displaced the native people. As time went on, government programs sought to actively eradicate indigenous populations. We said, “The buffalo must be hunted to extinction, the savages brought into boarding schools to be shown how to be “civilized,” their language must be cut off, and their lands must be claimed for our own uses.”

Likewise, if you know anyone who is black, chances are their ancestors did not come here seeking a new lease on life. They were brought in chains, they were forced to work and to bear children and to be sold off again and again. Chattel, no longer regarded as human, to fuel the industrial landscape of a country that desired the competitive edge that free labor could afford them. If our families are old enough, like my wife’s family is, then digging into our past might just reveal folks who oppressed and who fought for liberation, in the tangled mess of American slavery.

The reason I think that genealogy is important, why we should tell our stories to our children about how our family came to be, is that there is often a context for how we got here, that can color our understanding of how we treat folks in our modern day. My mother-in-law, a minister in Parkersburg, wrote a whole study on the Book of Ruth that asks the reader to do research into their own family. To understand how our ancestors came to settle in the land we now call home, is to understand why people are still moving and migrating around the world today.

As we stand here today, one in every sixty-seven people in the world have been forcibly displaced from their homes. 73.5 million are displaced domestically within their home country and 42.7 million are living as refugees forced into other countries by conflict. Of all these people, only 8.4 million are actively living in asylum. Still more, 4.4 million people are citizens of countries that no longer exist.[1] If you are out of your country when its government collapses, you no longer belong anywhere or to anyone. You are a non-person, existing only in the paperwork you happen to have.

This week, as we gather around our tables to celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you will think of your ancestors. Did they come to the U.S. to escape persecution? To avoid a war? Was their home destroyed in disaster? Or were their farms destroyed by drought or blight? Think on these things, and let them color the thanks you give. God has led your family through hardship that they might be able to sit, and give thanks for the meal you now share with your loved ones.

Also think, though, of the darker parts of history. Perhaps we have blemishes in our family history. Perhaps there are folks who actively made life worse for others. Who claimed to own other humans or who worked in exterminating others. These too are memories we should not neglect, for they color our world as well, and give us pause.

Most importantly, pray for displaced people. For those who have been forced from their homelands, who seek shelter in other nations or in overcrowded camps. Think of the refugees that have been saved through hard working people who have come alongside them to help, and those who have been forced into prison cells and thrown back into countries they may die in. Migrants, asylum seekers, immigrants, and wanderers are all our kith and kin, whether we want to admit it or not, for we were once wanderers too.

As I sit with my wife’s family this Thursday, as we sing our grace over the meal and we hear stories of her mother’s long dead ancestors, I will sit and recount the little history I know of my people. Christian Gottlieb fleeing Germany ahead of a World War, taking his life only a few years later due to his own struggles. His widow raising up her children, who would raise up my great-grandfather, Pap. Pap who would work the railroad and serve in the Army Corps of Engineers. Pap, who sewed diapers and cooked and cleaned for all his babies. Who raised my grandfather, who raised my father, who raised me, who now raises my son. I exist because someone long ago sojourned in this land, and I count myself as an eternal wanderer for that reason. Let us see in our neighbors, in the strangers we meet only briefly, and in the foreigners who live among us for a season or a lifetime, a family that we are called to care for. – Amen.

[1]The United Nations Refugee Agency. Refugee Data Finder. Available at: https://www.unhcr.org/refugee-statistics

Sermon 11/16/2025 – Eternal Care

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

2 Thessalonians 3:6-13

Now we command you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from every brother or sister living irresponsibly and not according to the tradition that they received from us. For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not irresponsible when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying for it, but with toil and labor we worked night and day so that we might not burden any of you. This was not because we do not have that right but in order to give you an example to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this command: anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living irresponsibly, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.

Sermon Text

I am guilty of being a busy body. I constantly search out things that I can get involved with. Sometimes this is a helpful impulse but sometimes it is to my great detriment. I’ve shared before how my wife and I had one of our few true arguments over me, deciding to put together a play pen instead of just playing with our kid like I had said I would. However, beyond that one particular problem there is a larger one that looms in the background of many people’s lives. Many of us will engage in the wrong kind of work to get out of doing the work that needs to be done.

When people come to your house for a visit, it is a good time to clean and get things ready for their time with you. However, sometimes we see them coming to our house differently. “If I do not do this other project before they get here, I will have to wait till they leave, so I should do that now instead of clean.” In households of two or more people, this mindset leads to one person doing all the prep for the incoming guests, and another suddenly disappearing to hang shelves or trim hedges. They are still working, but the work that they are doing is not necessarily the work that needs to be done, it is work for the sake of being busy.

Sometimes it is important to note that there is an actual hierarchy to work that gets done in the world. That hierarchy is not based on the amount of money you make for it, the time it takes to do it, or any other temporal metric. The hierarchy of importance in the work we do comes down to whether the work we are doing is relevant to the moment in which we are doing it. Is this the time to do what we are doing? Is this the best use of my time? Am I really working to an end, or so I can say that I did some amount of work?

In the early Church, there were several problems that largely came from the sudden influx of people from different cultures and social groups into one untied community. The rich who had never worked a day in their life were now sitting next to day laborers who did backbreaking work for pennies. At their combined gatherings they would share meals, distribute food to those in need, and worship together. The differences in class and background caused friction between folks in the group.

The Corinthian church had more definite problems surrounding abuse of the Lord’s Supper by wealthy members. Here in Thessalonica, we are not told what the exact transgression is that has angered the apostle. What is clear is that it revolves around taking from the communal meal without having contributed in some way toward it. We know this because Paul uses himself and his companions as a counter example. Specifically, he says that he worked to fund his own stay in the city rather than depending on the generosity of the community. Whether this was by contributing to the common pot or paying his own way is unclear, but Paul is clearly setting up his point. “… anyone unwilling to work should not eat.”

This verse is a Rorschach test for anyone reading it. Some readers will see this and have their minds flooded with visions of unemployed folk in welfare programs. Others will read it and envision the wealthy CEOs who profit off of other people’s work without doing anything themselves. As challenging as this verse is, we usually choose to read it so that it challenges someone other than ourselves. Like much of scripture, we read the tone of judgment it takes and decide that it must, therefore, be for someone else. The people Paul is upset with; must be the people I also take issue with.

In truth, I’m not sure what the specific infraction in Thessalonica Paul is addressing might have been. I think that it is more likely that Paul is critiquing the wealthy in the congregation rather than the poor, but without the specific citation of the issue we cannot be sure. In truth, Paul may be addressing a situation which is not intrinsically tied to class, a more universal ethic may be being violated here.

The issue at hand in Thessalonica is that there are members of the community who are refusing to contribute to the common good, but doing their best to pretend otherwise. Some of them are doing this by wasting their resources, coming to the congregation and saying, “I have nothing!” When they’ve really just wasted what they had. Others have plenty but are contributing something else instead of what is needed. These folks are working hard to look busy, but when the time comes for something that really needs doing, they fall short. Going to our opening parable, these folks see that guests are coming and hang up shelves. They are “doing work,” but none of that work contributes to anyone’s actual good.

Once when I was working in a church, I once got a call from a fellow. “God put it on my heart to help the church that raised me. So, is there anything I can do for you all?” I was happy, because I actually had something we needed. “We have been working to raise money to fix up our building, and any amount toward that can make a difference.” The man sat quietly for a time… Then he replied… “Have you all tried having a fundraiser?” He was ready to help, so long as that help did not ask anything of him beyond prayer or advice.

There is no bad work in the Church. There are times things need cleaned or built, times that prayers need lifted up or dinners cooked, but there is timely work and there is busy work. Many a church has died because the folks in the pews were not concerned with doing the work they needed to get done, but the work they would rather be busy with. We are called to do our work “quietly,” not so that people notice it and praise us. We are to do it tirelessly, because the work we do should be “what is right.”

This verse, like all of scripture, is not the tool of ideology. It should not be used to berate the poor who depend on welfare. It is, likewise, not a very helpful tool to call the idle rich to repentance. Instead, I would invite us to read it as a personal challenge. Take this scripture in your hand and hold it close to your heart. What does it speak against you? Do you hear God calling to your idleness? To you busy work? Is there work that you know you should do for the good of God’s people that you’ve been putting off? Search your heart, find the work you have left undone, and go forth in silence to get it done. God has called us to change this world, not in appearance, but in reality. Do what is right, do not tire, and let your contribution to God’s work really matter. – Amen.

Sermon 11/09/2025 – Eternal Love

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Luke 20:27-38

Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to him and asked him a question: “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married a woman and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.”

Jesus said to them, “Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. Indeed, they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is God not of the dead but of the living, for to him all of them are alive.”

Sermon Text

There are few things I cherish more in life than my marriage. My wife and I fell in love almost accidentally. We did not know that we were crazy about each other, at least not to the degree we were, until suddenly we could not deny it. We were engaged almost exactly a year after we started dating and married just a few months after that. We had been friends for years ahead of that time, so we were not strangers by any means, but when we fell, we both fell hard and quickly.

Our marriage is not perfect, like any relationship we have our problems. I’m grumpy and stubborn, she’s forgetful and stubborn, but we love each other and love our kid enough that we can work through anything that comes our way. Even if it means one of us has to sit the other down periodically and work through the mess that we have made. We aspire to really live our life so that we can be “flesh of flesh,” and “bone of bone,” one body in two persons, as much as possible. Yet, one day we will be parted by death, and this magnificent thing we call marriage will end.

Jesus gives many teachings that you do not usually hear ministers preach on, sometimes because they are complicated and sometimes because they’re unpleasant. Here, we have the latter. For many of us, the idea that marriage is something only for now, something that has a definite endpoint on this side of eternity, can be depressing. We spend our lives with our partners, we devote so much of who we are to them, growing alongside and into who they are. How can it be said that someday that amazing bond… is just severed?

I am not going to pretend to have a full answer, but I nonetheless want to try and give us some ideas to work with as we understand the way that our life continues from one end of eternity to the next. If we fall in love, if we devote ourselves to our family, and then we die… Does that connection cease to exist? I think the obvious answer here has to be no.

The people we love and who we live alongside shape our personality in ways that cannot be denied or diminished. This goes beyond who we choose to spend our life with, it bleeds into every relationship we have. I look like and share a (terrible,) sense of humor with my father. I talk and gesticulate like my mother. My personality grew up alongside my best friends Rose and Tara. My theology was shaped by dozens of teachers and colleagues, and the great enigmatic friend/foil in my life whom I call, “Tater.” We are the culmination of not only the entirety of our own life, but the life we live alongside other people.

When we die, if those relationships were suddenly voided, then we would cease to be who we are. “John,” cannot exist outside of the aspects of who I am that have been formed specifically because of the people in my life I have loved and who have loved me. I am not “me,” in isolation, I am only “me,” because of what has brought me here to the present moment. If in death, in the presence of God, I was suddenly turned into some kind of blank slate, then God has not saved “John,” God has only saved something vaguely “John,”-shaped.

When we enter into eternity, having died physically, we are not reset. There is no system of cosmic return that requires us to be broken into our constituent parts, we keep all the bits of us that we lived with. The difference which death makes, through God’s salvation, is that the bits of us that are rooted in sin are removed. The loves we feel, therefore, are transformed not such that they cease to exist, but so that they are now in their “perfect,” state. In the world to come, we are told that there is no marriage, and that those who are married in life will not be married in the resurrection – but that does not make their marriage unimportant, or erase its significance.

I am who I am in large part because of who my wife is. Likewise, knowing me has changed a great deal about her… Some things for the better even! When the day comes that we enter into eternity, we will not shed that reality of ourselves. Yes, we are told that we will no longer be “married,” and that our relationship will not continue on in the way it presently does. However, that does not mean that we will mean nothing to each other. When the present age ends, we will be perfected fully, and our love will likewise become perfect. We will have the capability to universally and fully love all people, with the same love that Christ felt. It will be different, it will be lived out differently, but it will be a definite improvement nonetheless.

When people ask me, “Pastor, do we get to see our family in Heaven?” I always tell them yes. Yes, you will see them, and yes, they will still be special to you. Yet, somehow, your definition of “family,” will be much larger. As you meet Christians from every era of history and every race and nation and creed, you will run into folks you never knew, and that you still love entirely. Whether our loved ones form a welcome party into glory, or we stumble upon them as we wander through perfection, as we meet again and as we reminisce once again, the path ahead of us is guaranteed to be better than the one behind us.

I love my wife, more than just about anything. Yet, I do not fear this teaching of Jesus. I do not fear it because I know that in the resurrection I will love as Jesus has loved, and Jesus has loved all people perfectly for all time. Just because I am told I will not be married to my wife forever, does not mean that she will not always be eternally important to me. God has better things in store for us than we can possibly imagine. Still, how blessed are we that we are given the gift of sharing our life with others. Whether that is through marriage, or friendships, or any number of other relationships we might have. God has given us each other, for this moment, and for eternity. Praise God, who gives us an eternal love. – Amen.

Sermon 11/02/2025 – Eternal Hope

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Ephesians 1:11-23

In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may perceive what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

Sermon Text

All Saints’ Day marks a time when the Church acknowledges that its membership is larger than just who sits in the pews. The Church is not just those baptized members that work and walk on the face of the earth, but all those who are present with God beyond the veil of death. As the Church on Earth awaits the resurrection, so those present with God await the same, looking for the day where heaven and earth, physical and spiritual, new and old are all mixed together into a new, perfected creation.

There is, surprisingly, very little within the scope of scripture that describes what sort of life the dead participate in. We know that faithful people, upon their death, are present with God in some meaningful way.[1] We know that they are conscious and that they are actively worshipping God and awaiting Christ’s final victory at the end of the age.[2] Beyond this, however, we do not know exactly what it is like to be physically dead, yet spiritually alive and present with Christ. The time between our physical death and the future resurrection is not something the early church seemed very concerned with. Later writers would develop all sorts of concepts of the “intermediate state,” and of “the beatific vision,” granted to the dead. However, from a standpoint of scripture, very little is revealed to us about the nature of our afterlife.

I think it is intentional that scripture does not fixate on the nature of our existence between death and resurrection. Our duty is to do what is right now, to worship God as we live, and to go into the world to proclaim the good news of Christ in all that we do. To focus on something that we cannot participate in until we actually get there would be to miss the point of the here and the now. We do not get an exact guide to what death brings.

Yet, we are given an abundance of assurance. Christ’s immediate presence with us in death means that, not only is death nothing to fear, it is a gift. Paul says in Philippians that, if he had a say in the matter, he wished he could die sooner rather than later. Yet, he did not see his life as a burden either. He says, “To live is Christ,” meaning it gives us the opportunity to imitate and better know the savior, “to die is gain,” meaning that we get to be present with Christ in a fuller, more direct way.[3] The Christian is not meant to crave death, but we are not to see it as something great and terrible either. For us, death is just a transition from one state to another, a changing of the self from the physical to the spiritual, until the day we rejoin our physical self once again in perfection.

It seems to me that the Church has lost some of its ability to be fearless in the face of death. The process of dying is hard, it does not always go smoothly, but it is not the end of us. There are many things death robs us of – opportunities we could have taken but did not, time with family on this side of eternity we cannot get back – but death is still only a temporary separation. If we believe that, then it should hold no sting for us. While we can, and should, mourn that the people we love die and that they are no longer beside us, we should not “mourn as those without hope.”[4] We believe Christ has marked us, that our faith has confirmed us, that we have a future even beyond death.

Still, I believe people hope that they might be immortal. On one hand this manifests in recklessness, but on the other, and just as dangerously, it manifests as a obsessive pursuit of wellness. New vitamins, new supplements, new exercise regiments, new procedures, new this that and the other, just to deny that one day this life must end. Why are we fearful of growing old? Of wrinkles and stretch marks and grey hair? Why do we chase after youth that has already passed by? It is ok to be as old as we are, to enjoy the benefits and to face the hardships every era of life brings. There is no shame in aging, in frailty or in strength we are all of us significant, all of us still beloved by God. Death comes to everyone, and there is no shame in it.

It can seem a grim topic, to address death so straight on. Yet, it is an important part of life. Christ came and lived and died, in large part so that we would have a companion in every step of life. When we come to the end of this life, we die. Born into eternity in that moment, we see things in a new way. We are present with God, with all the saints who went before us, and we join them in something new. We wait for God’s redemption of the world as people who have seen it closer than anyone else. We behold Christ face to face, we see the power of the resurrection right in front of us. We pray for the day all people can know its power.

On All Saints’ Day, we acknowledge that the Church consists of both the living and the dead. We also acknowledge that we too shall someday die. We will be a name in an obituary, a carving on a grave stone, a face on a poster. Yet, that is not the end of us. In dying we join the feast which Christ set long ago, and we eat and drink and celebrate God’s glory with people from all of space and time. Even today, as we take bread and cup and declare Christ’s salvation through these elements, we do so in the presence of the many witnesses who have gone before us.

Let us find God’s glory at work in every part of our lives. Those of us who are young, rejoice in your youth and vitality! Those who are old, let every achy joint and grey hair testify to the good things that have brought you thus far. Those of us in between, do not mourn the transition from one era to another. For in all times, and all places, in life and in death, God is with us. Praise God, all you people, for God is with us forever more. – Amen.

[1] Luke 23:43

[2]  Revelation 6:9

[3] Philippians 1:21

[4] 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14