Pastor Chris Brademeyer’s Podcast

The Christian is one. He is one with His Lord. He is one with the Lord’s Church. That is to say, our faith is one of unity. We are not fundamentally divided, we are fundamentally united. And our unity is not something that comes by force of human will or from our efforts, rather, it comes from God Himself. That unity expresses itself in a common confession, common doctrine, and a common life together. It is shown when we kneel to receive the Lord’s Supper. In other words, God makes us one by faith and our great responsibility is to confess that unity. St. Paul in our lesson today gives us four dimensions to our Christian unity: one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father.
Compare this to the world around us: there are constant divisions between political parties, businesses, towns, schools, sports fans, and, sadly, even between Christian churches. There are so many foolish reasons for this. Money, land, pride, selfishness, and arrogance serve only to divide and destroy. And worst of all, the world is so confused about unity that it accuses those who hold fast to the truth of Christ of being divisive while labeling those who come with half-truths and outright falsehoods as being unifying simply because they do not demand  real, actual, substantial unity. Besides this, we often confuse unity with uniformity, seeing outward commonality as the sign of unity rather than deep and abiding common substance.

Jacob and Jacy, today you are doing something both very ordinary and very extraordinary. Ordinary, because for thousands of years men and women have stood before their families, their friends, and their God and promised themselves to one another in marriage. Extraordinary, because today God Himself joins the two of you together as husband and wife. This universal, God-given reality is where our Lord Jesus directs our attention with His words here. He did not begin with your feelings. He did not begin with your plans for the future. He did not begin with your inner selves. He began with God.

Gerry knew something about gathering. I mean, the man bled hunting and fishing. He loved the pursuit and he loved getting the good shot, the good game, landing the big fish. And if you gave him half of an opening, you got an earful of the things that he hunted and the walleyes he caught on Kraft. He gathered a crop each fall, doing that work that characterized farming. So, it stands that Gerry knew something about gathering. But it wasn’t just hunting and fishing, despite how much he talked about it. It was also all of you. Gerry is one of those guys that everyone knows. He gathered to himself a loving wife in Dee, two sons and their families, and numerous friends and family along the way. Gerry said more than once to me and to at least Matt that the only thing he regretted about having to die and leave us is leaving all of you behind.
Gerry was good at gathering. And this should not surprise us. Gerry didn’t just live a life characterized by it, but his life was formed by it from the beginning. Gerry was born on August 24, 1949 and only a few short weeks later, he was gathered. He was not gathered by family who came to see the new baby. No, he was gathered into the Kingdom of God by the Good Shepherd who called Gerry to Himself in holy Baptism.

Death is something often on my mind, particularly at this time of the year. I am not trying to sound morbid, but in my line of work, death is something that I encounter regularly. Indeed, we are going to bury a dear, sainted member of the church on Monday. I do not fixate on death because I like it, because I fear it, or because I have a morbid curiosity about it. Enough visits to the bedside of those who are in their last hours strips one of his curiosity about such things.
But death is not easily dismissed. It is relentless, hounding each and every one of us no matter what we might do to avoid it. It is greedy, it gobbles up men, women, and children; the young and old; the rich and poor. All will eventually be held by its cold embrace. Given enough experience with it and you too will find yourself thinking about it. And, I will admit, I do not like death. But even more, I do not want to meet it. It is not fear, not really, but that I know that death is often not pleasant and comes with great suffering. But the thing that most makes me pause, the one thing about death that grips me when it crosses my mind, is its inescapable nature.

Inflation. Depressed wages. High housing prices. Grocery bills through the roof. Gas pumps that require a mortgage to operate. It is easy to become anxious about such things. This isn’t unexpected either. After all, who doesn’t need food or shelter, clothes or transportation? But even more, seeing that a dollar does not stretch as far as it used to is very unsettling.
Such is the power that mammon, money and riches, exercises over us. Our possessions are a powerful thing in our lives in the sense that they control and relate to so much that we do. As the old saying goes, we put our money where we see value in putting it. So it comes to closely define our sense of security and safety. What can we do?
Find out in this sermon from St. John's Lutheran Church of Oakes, ND!

The Christian life is not difficult in the abstract. To put it another way, if I were to give you a pop quiz about what the Christian’s life ought to look like, you would all probably get a good grade. You would probably say something about going to church, reading your Bibles, receiving the Lord’s Supper, and praying. You would likely recount how Christians should take care of those in need, do a good job at work, be honest, be fair, be responsible, and the like. Like I said, painting the picture of what this looks like is pretty easy, even for Christians who aren’t as well catechized as others.
     But in this description lurks a problem, one that hounds each and every one of us: we all know what we ought to do. We all know how we should be living. We all know what it means for us to live the Christian life. The problem is not knowledge of such things. Rather, the problem lies in actually doing them. Each of us does not do everything that we want. Each of us has sins and iniquities. Each of us goes to bed with regrets. So, what are we to do about this?

3P1S Episode 28 - Does Adiaphora Mean That Anything Goes?
It is easy when Scripture speaks on particular topics and church practices. But what happens when Scripture does not speak? Is it a free-for-all, everyone doing what seems right in their own eyes?
To listen to more podcasts: www.3p1s.com

There are sequences in the lectionary that make me pause and wonder whether someone intentionally planned it that way or if it is just a happenstance of history, the providence of God beyond human knowing, that arranged it to be so. Let me be less cryptic: the last two weeks give us a building set of teachings that lead us to this week. Two weeks ago we dealt with the issue of identity, how it is rooted in Christ, and how we are tempted to chuck that aside for identities we try and manufacture on our own. Last week we heard about the clear distinction of the Law and the Gospel, how we are saved by grace alone through faith alone, and how the Law, though it is good, does not have the power to save us. And this week, that point is driven home. The final nail, as it were, is driven through human ambition before God. That nail is the holy Law of God. But even more, it emphasizes that even though we are unable to help ourselves in sin, we do have a Savior, Jesus Christ the Lord, who comes not by works, but as a gift.

The most central distinction we can know as Christians is that between God’s holy Law and His saving Gospel. If we do not know it, we will confuse these two. And if we confuse them, we will lose both of them, most especially, we will lose the Gospel. That is to say, if we do not understand this fundamental difference, we will never know the comfort and peace that comes by knowing the forgiveness of sins nor will we know the depth of our need for forgiveness or God’s will which the Law reveals. C. F. W. Walther, the very first president of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod, wrote that, “to rightly distinguish Law and Gospel is the most difficult and highest Christian art.” It is fundamental to our Christian understanding and, as such, a matter we must place a good deal of attention toward. 

How would you describe the normal way that people navigate life? That is to say, what is the framework, the worldview, the basic beliefs about themselves and the world that people employ? There are, of course, many answers to a question that is formed this broadly. But, one of the major ingredients in how we Americans at this time navigate identity is what some scholars call expressive individualism. Though the idea goes back to the very first sin, the phrase “expressive individualism” was coined more recently and is still used by scholars to describe a particular way of understanding one’s place in the world.
This way of looking at the world has three major parts. First, people should turn inward to find truth and meaning. Second, this inner truth and meaning must be shown outwardly in order to be authentic. Third, traditional social roles, religious teachings, and cultural norms are all to be treated as secondary to these inner truths. This may take a bit of unpacking.
 Much of the world around us tells us to look inward to find who we are, Scripture counsels us to look to Christ; in Him we find our identity.