Title : Luke 12:35-40

When we hear lessons like today’s Gospel, where the Lord Jesus exhorts us by using the language of keeping ourselves dressed, and working, and watching, we think that He’s only concerned with the religious part of our lives—the part where we repent of our sins, attend worship, and receive a refreshing of His forgiveness, life, and salvation in the Gospel and the Sacraments of Baptism and Holy Communion.

But, the Christian religion isn’t a religion of Sunday, only. Christianity isn’t only a religion; it’s a life. Christianity is the life of receiving Jesus, delighting in Jesus, following Jesus.

The word church comes from the Greek word ecclesia. Ecclesia means to be called out from. Thus, to be a member of the Christian Church means that you are among those who have been called out from something and into something. You have been called from the world, where Satan is the prince, and into the family of God, where Jesus Christ is the King. You have been called from sin and sinning and into righteousness and holy living. This is what the Lord means by being dressed and ready for service, keeping your lamps burning.

The Word of God calls you a new creation: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come." The Word of God tells you to carry your cross after Christ. The Word of God tells you to love your neighbor . . . to treat others as you . . .

You’ve only heard those things from this pulpit a thousand times, the last ten years. Well, now’s the time to do these things, to be these people. The new year is a lovely opportunity for a fresh start. The new year mimics the Christian life which, through the ongoing forgiveness of your sins, is always providing you with a fresh start.

I have had this in mind for two months, since our Town Hall meeting, and the revelation that I shared with you, that one of the reasons young people leave the Christian faith is because the adults—their parents, grandparents, and other adults whose lives they watch—are not doing a good job of living their Christian faith. The young people are witnessing a lot of hypocrisy—a lot of phony Christians, who only pay lip service to their Lord and their faith.

I teach your children what I taught my children: there’s only one person you can control: yourself. The same goes for you adults. The problems of the Christian faith are not because people are saying Happy Holidays, or because public prayer is not allowed in public schools, or because the Ten Commandments are being removed from our courthouses.

The Sunday that I came home from my novel-reading vacation was my first Sunday after the Town Hall meeting. I spoke about what many of you need to be doing to put into practice what we learned. I said that, in many cases, what you chiefly need to do might not to be adding good works to your lives, but to remove the negative and bad things from your lives.

One of you challenged me on this, and I’m glad that you did. It provides fine fodder for this New Year’s Eve sermon and a great way to explain what the Lord Jesus is talking about when He says to be dressed ready for service and to keep your lamp of faith burning.

Amidst all of your New Year’s resolutions to lose weight, quit smoking, and figure out a way to stop losing your car keys—wait, do you notice something about these typical resolutions? They are about me. In keeping with the Lord’s exhortation to be dressed and ready for service, how about some resolutions which are not about me?

Begin with your mouth. Consider the Eighth Commandment, and Martin Luther’s explanation to use your mouth to speak well of others, defend others, and explain their actions in the kindest way.

Here is one to remove from your vocabulary and replace; something that I hear, way too often: someone will be talking, and then say, "I shouldn’t say this, but . . ." Wow, kids, really? Plenty of times, my response has been, "Then, don’t say it." What’s amazing is, it doesn’t stop anyone. And, sadly, what then comes out of their mouths, they really should not have said. They have not spoken well of someone, or defended anyone, or explained anything in any way they would have wanted anyone else to have said about them. And, yet, the wheel just keeps on turning. When will we finally get it, and get with it?

Well, here’s your chance. You know what the Lord would have you do. You know that young people are listening to you and mimicking you. In 2011, determine that you will think before you speak. Determine that, if you are about to say, "I shouldn’t say this," you will laugh at yourself, shut your mouth, and then come up with what you should say.

That addresses words, now about actions. I’ve become fond of saying that the best thing I can say about a Christian, at the time of his death, is that he was a nice person. Sadly, too often, we, who are left to remember the deceased, have to do a lot of forgetting of bad things so that we can speak of the good things.

My dad left his vale of tears, last April, for the joys of Jesus and heaven and, eight months later, I am enjoying fresh good works from Pop, and my step-mom, Louise. As I tell you about this, consider your life and what good deeds you might do for your loved ones.

The day of Dad’s funeral, Louise had an envelope for each of us kids and all of Dad’s grandkids. She had encouraged Dad, in 2008, to write each of us a letter. When she was at her sister’s for a few weeks that winter, Dad did just that.

I waited to open the letter until Julie and I got home from the funeral. It wasn’t real long, but the content made me cry tears of love for my dad. Mostly, he said how proud he was of me, and how Mom would have loved to see me become a minister. He said the most humble thing, that he and Mom tried their best in bringing up us kids. Eight months later, I feel about Dad’s letter as I did then: it’s about the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.

Louise gets even more credit, and it came in another surprise. She also encouraged Pop to write his life story. She mailed it to us kids as one last Christmas present from our father.

Dad wasn’t much for reminiscing, so the nineteen handwritten pages contained some surprises, especially from his youth and military service. Dad never wanted to talk about World War II, but the way he wrote about it, it clearly was a huge two years of his life.

My favorite story comes from when Dad was twelve. That was 1939, during the Depression. He grew up on a farm, about ten miles from Montague. Their church, St. John, was a mile away. At Christmas, the church gave all of the kids a box of peanuts and hard candy, but they also had a talent show, with a one pound of chocolate as first prize. Dad sang Santa Claus Is Coming to Town. He won first prize. The Catholic church in Montague, St. James, where I grew up, also had a talent show. First prize was a whopping five pound box of candy. Dad repeated his song. He wrote, "I won the five pounds of candy. Now we had a real Christmas coming up: six pounds of candy, plus the boxes of candy and peanuts."

Dad was a public servant, and was always there for people, often to the irritation of my mom. In retirement, he continued to serve. For the nearly two decades of his retirement, he worked in one, and sometimes, two, church food banks, neither of which was of his Roman Catholic faith. He received great joy in serving others.

Ah, and there’s the lesson, dear Christians. The good works and good words that we do and say for others come from a heart of love, and the payoff for us is joy.

But, what if you don’t experience joy at doing and saying good things? I sat for five minutes, pondering this possibility, and couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer.

To be filled with joy at the service of others is to be a Christian. It is to be like Christ, who, for the joy set before Him—I’m quoting a favorite verse, now—who, for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, scorning its shame.

Jesus’ joy was in being nailed to the cross, bearing the damnation of the sins of the world. Jesus’ joy was in calling you by the Gospel of salvation. Jesus’ joy was baptizing you into His forgiveness of sins. Jesus’ joy is in feeding you His body and blood of eternal life.

In the Gospel and Sacraments, your Lord Jesus has made you ready for service. He has dressed you. He gave you a burning lamp—your faith in Him—by which your way is lit, and that you might light the way for others with your good works and your good words.

Your children are listening and watching. They need to see and hear Jesus in church, but they need to also see Him in your homes. In 2011, this is your job, and it is your joy, for you live in the love of Jesus Christ, and all of His joys belong to you, for He has dressed you and made you ready for service, now and forever. Amen.