Pious Lutheran

Raising of the Son of the Widow of Nain , Martino Altomonte, 1731 Jesus raises the dead bodily. Jesus was born, died, raised, and ascended bodily The body matters. We shall be raised bodily About half a year ago we celebrated the resurrection of our Lord on Easter. Today, after some waiting, we celebrate the fruits of Jesus’ resurrection, namely, our resurrection. Jesus was crucified and buried and raised, for the forgiveness of our sins, so that we may be raised from the dead to life. Indeed, Jesus raises the dead bodily. Jesus was born, died, raised, and ascended bodily, because the body matters, and so too shall we be raised bodily. It’s incredibly beautiful that when Elijah raised the widow of Zarephath’s son and Jesus raised the widow of Nain’s son, both of those deaths and resurrections foreshadow the death and resurrection of Jesus. Afterall, by the time Jesus died, Mary was a widow, and Jesus is the only-begotten Son of of the Father. Like these mothers, Mary suffered great so...

Raising of the Son of the Widow of Nain , Martino Altomonte, 1731 Death is so common (we all do it at least once), you’d think that by now we’d handle it well, but we don’t. In the last 3 ½ weeks I’ve buried seven people, but as often as it happens, it’s still death and it’s still painful. Death is such a terrifying and filthy thing that no amount of normalization will make death pleasant. Though we sure do try to make death look pretty. We relabel death into something attractive, we call abortion “reproductive healthcare” and we call physician assisted suicide “death with dignity.” We even call funerals “celebrations of life” in order to hide the grim reality of what has happened. The truth, however, is that death is not pretty. Abortion is still murdering an unborn baby, euthenasia is still suicide by taking a drug which kills you, and funerals are still the burial of someone we love who has died. Those things are all painful and leave deep emotional scars in the survivors.  Part...

St. Paul says, “ This is how one should regard us, as stewards of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. ” Thus, when we have visitors in church, it’s my job as the pastor, as the steward of the mysteries, to at least briefly examine them before admitting them to the Lord’s Supper, just as it’s my job to examine you as well. So I ask a handful of questions, a couple of them being: “What God do you worship?” and “Why?” So permit me to ask all of you this morning, what God do you worship, and why? Why are you here in church this morning? Why are you a Christian? What are you doing here? Why is this important? Or is this even important? Do you know? Do you care?  Some are in church because they think that’s how they merit salvation. Some are Christians because they want to be virtuous people. Some are Christians out of habit or tradition. But why are you here? You’re not going to merit salvation by going to church, although you should go to church. There are many ways to be...

“ As Jesus drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. ” What a sad situation. A woman who had already lost her husband to death and was a widow, with but one surviving son, now loses her only beloved son to death as well. You can probably imagine the grief this woman experienced, the tears streaming down her face as she walked slouching over behind the open faced box holding her son’s lifeless body, sobs occasionally overcoming her composure.  The death of children is nothing unusual, but the pain of going through such a thing is still heart wrenching. Whether the child is 40 years, 4 years, 4 weeks, or unborn. Whether it was a slow and painful death, or fast and unexpected, its pain is impossible to describe with words. It’s a pain many of you have experienced.  That numbingly empty pain of death can feel so lonesome. King David, at the news of the death of his wicked son Absalom, ...