Based on Hebrews 12:22-24

Where is your name written?

I remember visiting my brother-in-law’s unit when he was a battalion commander. His name was right there—outside the headquarters building—bold, official, permanent-looking.

I recently toured an aircraft carrier with the ship’s chaplain. He made sure to point out—in not one but two places—where the name and picture of a sailor friend of mine, a Chief Warrant Officer 3, were displayed for everyone to see.

Some of you know that feeling. Maybe your name is engraved on a plaque, printed on a door, or listed in an awards case.

For others, it’s your DD214. That document matters. It opens the door to benefits, medical care, discounts. But even more—it says you served your country.

But maybe your name doesn’t show up in places you’re proud of. You didn’t make it a career. You didn’t climb the ranks. Maybe there’s a report or a record with your name on it that you wish no one would ever see.

Or maybe these days the only place your name shows up is on the bills in your mailbox.

But there’s one place your name is written, and it’s the one place that really matters.

It’s not there because you were flawless. It’s not there because you checked all the boxes.
It’s not there because you served long enough or sacrificed enough.

It’s there because of Jesus.

Your name is written in heaven.

Hebrews 12:22-24 says: “But you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the Judge of all, to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood.”

“Mount Zion”—that’s another name for heaven. “The city of the living God”—the place where God himself dwells forever.

There are thousands upon thousands of angels there. They’re celebrating, praising God because he kept his promises to humankind. Because Christ came. Because sins are forgiven. Because your names are written in heaven.

And that city is the “church of the firstborn”—you are heirs to the mansions Jesus prepared, the streets of gold, the river of life, and most of all—the presence of God himself. You are those heirs. This is your inheritance.

We have come “to God, the Judge of all” . . . but we do not need to be afraid to stand before God. Why not? Because we’ve also come “to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood.”

His blood shed on the cross speaks louder than your failures, louder than your regrets, louder than any accusation from Satan himself. It cries out to the Father: “This one is innocent. I have paid for their sins in full.”

So no matter where your name is written here on earth—on a building, in a service record, even on a document of shame—know this: Your name is written in heaven.

And no court, no commanding officer, no bad decision, no enemy—can erase it. It is written in Jesus’ blood. It is written forever.

Find your comfort there. Find your confidence there. Find your hope there—today and every day. You name is written in heaven.

Prayer:
Lord Jesus, mediator of the new covenant, you have written our names in heaven by your blood. Thank you for this gift of grace. Guard and keep all who serve in our armed forces and comfort their families with the unshakable truth that no enemy can blot their names from the book of life. Especially watch over all university and college students enrolled in ROTC. Grant them wisdom and understanding. Grow them into strong servant leaders. Keep them connected to you. Amen.

Based on Hebrews 11:1-16

A friend recently shared a YouTube video with me. It was a speech given by Medal of Honor recipient SSG David Bellavia. When you listen to his story and his speech, you have to say about this man, “He is a hero!” Bellavia is a hero not just for what he did but for what he believes. He believes in honor, duty, and courage. He believes in God, faith, family, and country. Take some time to find that speech.

And if you ever get the chance to tour a museum, such as the National Museum of the United States Army in Washington, D.C., as I did last fall, take the time to explore the hall that displays the Medal of Honor recipients. It’s a hall of heroes, if you will. Read their stories of sacrifice and valor.

Who are your heroes?

The Bible has a hall of heroes. When you read Hebrews chapter 11, the author causes you to pause at each picture he paints to consider not just what these heroes did but why they did it.

Take this painting, for example: “By faith Noah . . . built an ark to save his family. By faith he condemned the world and became heir of the righteousness that is in keeping with faith” (Hebrews 11:7). My hero.

Then you come to this painting of a man by the name of Abraham. Abraham left his home and family to go to a piece of real estate he wasn’t able to look up on Zillow or explore on Google Maps. He wandered throughout this piece of land all his life, and at the end of it, the only acre he owned was a cave he bought as a family burial plot. Why did he do what he did? He believed a promise from the Lord that a great nation would descend from his family. That nation would one day inherit this property. Most importantly, the Savior of the world could trace his ancestry back to Abraham. Yes, he was looking for something better—a country and city not built by human hands, but by the hand of God: a heavenly city, a heavenly country (Hebrews 11:10,16). My hero.

As you walk the hall of heroes, you will come to a painting of a lady, a prostitute who hid spies in her home. She was aiding the enemy (who were really the good guys). Because of her valor, she and her family were rescued by commander Joshua and the Israelite armies when they destroyed Jericho. This hero named Rahab is listed in the genealogy of the Messiah (Hebrews 11:31), because she believed this promise: “Yes, there is a Savior, even for me.” My hero.

Oh, that we had their faith! But we do! By faith we believe those same promises. By faith we believe that at our baptism Jesus placed us on the ark of the holy Christian church to keep us safe throughout our lives. By faith we also believe that in the waters of our baptism we were drowned in the flood to wash away our sins forever. In those waters we were raised again to new life through Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. By faith we believe that we have a resurrection from the dead (Hebrews 11:35).

By faith we believe that we are righteous in God’s sight, not because of who we are or what we have done, but by faith we believe Christ’s righteous living covers over us. By faith we believe Jesus’ blood covers over our sins (Hebrews 11:28).

By faith we believe that the real estate and possessions we own now are temporary, that we are strangers here, because there is something better for us (Hebrews 11:39,40). Not only will we inherit the wealth of heaven with its mansions, but we will also stand face-to-face with him who promised all of this to us, Jesus. My hero.

By faith we believe others will be with us, as numerous as the sand on the seashore and as the stars in sky (Hebrews 11:12).

The next time you tour a military museum, listen to a speech given by a Medal of Honor recipient, or attend an awards ceremony—and you hear stories of valor, gallantry, intrepidity, unwavering resolve, and conspicuous service about defeating our enemies, protecting our freedoms, and defending our nation—let those stories give you reason to pause and give thanks to God for men and women who sacrifice for us, our heroes.

Then, give thanks to God for men and women who are heroes because their faith pointed their eyes to Jesus, and that Jesus kept them unwavering in their resolve to cling to his promises despite their circumstances. Ask God to let them serve as examples for us.

Finally, ask God to give you such a faith that clings to Jesus, your hero, your Savior, until you and I reach that better place, where we will be with him in heaven.

Prayer:
Gracious Lord, we thank you for the gift of faith, the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. As you sustained the saints of old, sustain us also in true faith through Word and sacrament. Help us to seek the better country—our heavenly home—trusting not in ourselves but in Christ alone. Keep us steadfast in your promises until we see what we now believe.

As our nation paused on August 7th to observe Purple Heart Day, we also pause to thank you for those who have been wounded or killed in action. With their sacrifice, these brave men and women selflessly acted to save lives and preserve our freedoms.

Father, continue to raise up such brave people to keep our nation free from the terrors of our enemies so that we might live peaceful lives. We ask this in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Based on 1 Timothy 2:6,7; Luke 11:1-13

The mission of WELS Ministry to the Military is to make God’s Word and sacraments available to our actively serving military members and their families. Oftentimes, we can’t be in all the places our warfighters are serving. When they are underway or deployed, we train men and women to serve as Distinctive Religious Group Leaders or Religious Lay Leaders. We train them how to prepare and lead Bible study, how to prepare and lead worship, and even to administer the Lord’s Supper.

Before we go through all of that training, we start with developing a personal devotional habit and personal prayer habit. What I’ve found is that many of our sailors, soldiers, Marines, Coasties, and airmen and airwomen who have gone through this training have shared, “We really have not been taught how to pray.”

They’re not alone. Even Jesus’ disciples had to ask their teacher, “Lord, teach us to pray.” Before we get into how to pray, it is good to pause and thank our Father in heaven for the blessing of prayer, and the fact that we can pray in the first place. Paul in his letter to Timothy writes, “There is one God and one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all people” (1 Timothy 2:5,6a). If Christ had not paid our ransom with his lifeblood, we would still be separated from a holy God by our sins—there would be no communication with him. Since Christ paid that ransom, he set us free from our sins. He made us to be holy and righteous. We are able to stand before the throne of the Almighty God with our petitions and prayers, intercessions and thanksgiving!

The second reason we can come before God in prayer is because we have a child-Father relationship. At your baptism God the Father adopted you as his child. While earthly fathers do their best to listen and do what is best for their children, the Father always listens, always hears, always answers in a way that is best for you, his child. This is why Jesus taught us to pray, “Our Father in heaven.” He tenderly invites us to approach him as children approach their fathers.

Next, Jesus teaches us to pray for those things that God the Father has already promised us. Did you know that when Jesus teaches us to pray the Lord’s Prayer in Luke 11, all the petitions are imperatives in the original language? That’s right! Jesus teaches us to tell our Father to give us what he’s already promised us. Take the Seventh Petition, for example: “Father, deliver us from evil.” Martin Luther teaches us in his catechism that when we pray this petition, we’re telling our Father in heaven to keep all evil away from us—anything that would harm our bodies or souls, our property or reputation.

But for you whose vocation is warfighter, you have seen and experienced evil descend on you, your battle buddies, and those under your command—in training accidents, in combat, in sickness of body and mind. How do we pray when evil comes? Luther teaches us that when we pray, “Deliver us from evil,” we are saying, “Father, if you in your wisdom allow evil to come into my life or the lives of those around me, then do as you promise: make this evil to work out for our eternal good. I may not see it now, but you promise it, so do it!” And what if someone faces death? Then we pray, “Father, deliver us from evil. In your good, eternal timing, bring us safely out of this valley of tears into the light and joy of your presence in heaven through death —deliver us from evil once and for all.”

The wonderful blessing and joy in prayer comes when you add prayer to your daily devotional habit. When you read the Scriptures, God speaks to you. He tells you exactly what his will is. He tells you exactly what he promises to give you. As you read those promises from your Father, pause and pray, “Father, you have promised me this, that, and the other thing, for you have said it here in your words to me. Give me what you have promised so that I may be blessed through it!”

I have found that the Psalms have really helped me pray God’s will in my prayers. David and the other psalm writers teach us how to pray and to tell God, “Do what you have promised me! Be the God you reveal yourself to be for me, so that I may receive what you have promised me!”

Prayer:
Almighty God, you know our needs even before we ask. Assist us in our prayers so that we may ask only for what is in accordance with your will. Grant us the good things for which we feel unworthy to ask or for which we fail to ask because of our blindness to your promises. Open our eyes as we read your Word so that you may reveal to us your good and gracious will, and then, open our hearts to ask you for those things you have promised. Finally, grant us trust that you will do what you have promised, in your time and in your way, always for our benefit. We ask this as your dear, baptized children. Amen.

Based on 1 Peter 5:1-4

As Americans, July 4th marks a day of great celebration and remembrance. We recall the courage and sacrifice of those who declared independence in 1776 and the generations of military service members who have since defended the freedoms established in that declaration. It’s a time to fly flags, sing patriotic hymns, and reflect on the blessings of liberty. But for the Christian—particularly for us as confessional Lutherans—this day is also an opportunity to reflect on a greater freedom and a higher allegiance.

This coming Sunday you may hear from the apostle Peter in 1 Peter 5:1-4. At first glance these words may not seem military themed, but they speak directly to the kind of leadership and service that we see in those who serve both in the armed forces and in the church.

The apostle Peter writes to the elders, the pastors—those called to shepherd God’s flock. Peter does not speak from a high and mighty position but as a fellow shepherd. He encourages them to lead as those under orders—not from men, but from the Chief Shepherd himself, Jesus Christ.

In the military, leadership is both a privilege and a responsibility. Officers and non-commissioned leaders are charged not simply with giving commands but with caring for those under them. A good commander knows his troops. He trains them, sacrifices for them, and even risks his life for them. The same holds true in the church. Those who are called to lead—pastors, elders, fathers, and all spiritual shepherds—lead not for personal gain or status but with a heart conformed to Christ’s example of suffering and service.

Peter insists that such leaders are not to lord their authority over others. There is no room in the church for prideful command or self-serving power. Instead, those who serve in leadership are to be examples to the flock. This too resonates with military life. The best leaders are those who never ask of their troops what they themselves are not willing to do. They lead from the front. They bear burdens, carry weight, and are the last to eat or sleep. They model duty, honor, and courage.

So too in the church. The Christian shepherd leads with humility. He does not dominate but disciples. He feeds with the Word of God. He defends against the false teachings that threaten the flock. He binds up the wounded and seeks the straying. And in all of this, he follows Christ—the Good Shepherd who laid down his life for the sheep.

On this day when we remember the sacrifices of our military and the blessings of our nation, we must not forget that we are citizens of two kingdoms, that of our nation and of heaven. Our true citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20). Because nations rise and fall. Flags are raised and lowered. But the kingdom of God endures forever. And in that kingdom, our Chief Shepherd reigns victorious—crucified, risen, and ascended.

Those who serve faithfully in his name—whether in pulpits or pews, in homes or in foxholes or on ships—will receive an unfading crown of glory. This is not a medal pinned on a uniform but the eternal reward of being in the presence of Christ forever. It is not earned through valor in battle or perfect obedience but through the grace of God given in Christ Jesus, who has already won the victory.

This weekend let us remember both our military leaders and our spiritual shepherds. Let us pray for them, that they may be faithful, humble, and strong in the Lord. Let us also take up our own callings—to serve our neighbor, to proclaim Christ crucified and risen, and to live as citizens of heaven even while we live in this nation.

And let us do all of this looking forward to the day when our Chief Shepherd returns and all those who have fought the good fight of faith will receive their eternal reward—not because of their greatness, but because of his.

Prayer:
Almighty God, on this day of national celebration, we give you thanks for the blessings of liberty and the sacrifices made to secure it. We thank you especially for the freedom that comes through your Son, Jesus Christ, and the faithful shepherds who lead us in his name. Strengthen all who serve in authority, whether in the church or the military, that they may lead with humility, wisdom, and love. Keep us faithful in our vocations, and fix our eyes always on the Chief Shepherd, in whose name we pray. Amen.

Based on Numbers 6:24-26

For 250 years generations of soldiers have pledged to defend the Constitution and the people of this nation, sacrificing their safety and lives to preserve peace and liberty. For 250 years men and women have marched under the banner of the United States Army, an institution that was created for defense, order, and national unity during a time of profound uncertainty and looming war. As we reflect on the 250th birthday of the United States Army, we give the Almighty God thanks for their service.

But more than that, we reflect on where true peace and blessing ultimately come from—not the sword of man, but the gracious hand of God.

In Numbers 6, the Lord himself unfurled a banner under which people have marched for 3,500 years—the banner of blessing. In this chapter, the Lord commanded his priests to speak this blessing over the people of Israel: “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace” (Numbers 6:24-26).

This blessing is not just a prayer or wish. The God of free and faithful grace places his name on his people, on you—a divine act of protection, grace, and peace. “So they will put my name on the Israelites, and I will bless them” (Numbers 6:27). God’s name carries his presence. God’s name carries all that he has done and promises to do in Christ. God’s name on you means you belong to him.

This banner of blessing is not a generic divine favor. It’s deeply personal and covenantal. The Triune God promises to do this for you: to bless and keep, to shine and be gracious, to turn his face toward you, and to give you peace.

The Lord’s face shines upon you means that he looks on you with favor. When he looks at you, he does not see your sins, your faults and failures. He sees the perfect life of Christ and his innocent death on the cross, for you. The warmest sunlight of salvation shines on your face. Because of that truth, you have peace.

The US Army may help secure national peace, but the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). This peace comes not through battle, but through the blood of the Lamb, who reconciled us to God.

Because the Lord’s face shines on you, he will keep you. No matter where you go or what you do, no matter what sorrows you suffer or joys you experience, he will protect you, in life and in death. Because the Lord’s face shines on you, he will be gracious to you. You have a God who will show compassion for you when you are sad, when you struggle with temptation, when you feel weak in your faith. These are the blessings we march under because God puts his name on us.

At the close of the Divine Service, after receiving Christ’s Word and his Holy Supper, we depart under the banner of God’s name. It’s not a banner stitched with stars and stripes, but with the cross and the name of the Triune God. Just as a soldier’s uniform bears the emblem of his or her nation, we bear the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, given to us in our baptism, and given to us in this blessing.

As we remember the birthday of the US Army today, we give thanks for those called to defend and to protect in this earthly kingdom. But far greater is the eternal protection offered and given by our Lord, who serves us with eternal blessings in his eternal kingdom. March toward that eternal kingdom under the banner of his blessing.

Prayer:
Lord God, heavenly Father, we thank you for your blessing spoken over us Sunday after Sunday through the mouths of your servants. We thank you for placing your name on us in Holy Baptism and for blessing us every day. Preserve us from every evil, guard us in every trial, and keep us in the peace that is ours in Christ Jesus.

Today we give thanks for those who serve in the United States Army, past and present, and ask you to protect those in harm’s way. Protect them, guide them, and draw all hearts to trust not in princes or powers, but in you alone.

Keep us in that peace, and let your name always be upon us. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Based on Revelation 7:9; 22:14

I’m currently listening to an audiobook entitled Blood in the Argonne: The “Lost Battalion” of World War I. It is the story of the 77th Division of the American Expeditionary Forces in France. The author, Alan Gaff, brings us alongside the men of this lost battalion, which was never lost and was not actually a battalion. What I found fascinating about this story was the diversity of this division: blue collar men from every ethnic background in New York City. Not all of these “Liberty Boys” spoke English or understood English, which makes it a marvel that these men were able to work together to form this division and then fight in combat. Communication in the context of war is a life and death necessity.

Another thing that struck me was when the author described the shock of the men of this division when they marched through France and saw men dressed in uniforms from a multitude of other countries—men from nations they had heard about but never dreamed they would meet much less fight alongside.

I saw in this picture of the diversity of the WWI war machine what the apostle John saw in his vision of heaven. In chapter 7 he saw “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands” (verse 9). And then in chapter 22 he saw that picture again and wrote: “Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city” (verse 14).

What the author of this book shares about the fighting forces in WWI and what the apostle John saw in heaven is this wonderful thing called diversity. God created one man and one woman, and from them came the nations of the world. One human race but with such variety and color and colorful cultures—all gifts from God to celebrate. This diversity of the human race is unified, because for those in heaven, they are wearing the same uniform: white robes. And they are waving palm branches, a picture of victory. What unifies the diversity of the human race is the fact that they are all standing before the Lamb—the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. All nations, and that includes you and me.

But I see a contrast here too. The book Blood in the Argonne describes in horrid detail just that: the blood and guts, the nightmare and dirtiness of trench warfare. It is awful. It is sickening. It’s a picture of our lives here on earth, a world pounded and splintered by the effects of sin. It’s a picture of lives shattered by trauma, abuse, loneliness, loss, and moral injury—it’s a messy and dirty world.

But the apostle John sees the redemption of this world and our own lives when he hears Jesus say, “Blessed are those who wash their robes.” The paradox is that these robes, once filthy and dirty and stained from sin, are washed in the blood of the Lamb. The paradox is that from suffering and trauma and abuse and the death of the Lamb come peace and forgiveness and cleansing and a washing and life for you.

These white robes are Christ’s righteous living. These robes are Christ’s perfect blood, his innocent suffering and death, and his glorious resurrection, which he drapes over the shoulders of people from every nation, tribe, people, and language. He unifies them under a single banner: the palm branch, the victory over sin and death and grave, and under one commander-in-chief, the Lord Jesus.

The apostle John sees diversity and unity in Jesus’ kingdom, and that’s a good thing! Because he sees you in that vision of heaven. He sees me in that throng of tens of thousands. He sees others . . . people you know and work with and love, people you haven’t met yet, people who don’t look like you or sound like you, people with whom you get to share this good news: that God’s kingdom is for them, no matter their background. Their robes are washed, which means they get to walk through the gates of the city, the new Jerusalem, heaven itself, and eat from the tree of life and live forever!

We’re in the final Sunday of the season of Easter. What better time to bring someone who isn’t like you to hear the message that this diverse and unified kingdom is just for them, just as much as it is for you.

Prayer:
Almighty God, your Son our Savior was taken up in glory and intercedes for us at your right hand. Through your living and abiding Word, give us hearts to know him and faith to follow where he has gone.

As our nation’s military sets up June as PTSD awareness month, help us to open our eyes and ears to listen to those who may be suffering in silence. Move us to sit with them in their darkness, and to listen and just be present. Open their hearts to be willing to receive help from professional counselors and to be receptive to the gospel message of hope through faith in Jesus Christ, who himself suffered trauma and endured and rose from the dead to redeem all things—yes, even minds and hearts hijacked by trauma. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Based on John 10:27-30

Do you remember that drill instructor? You know the one. Even as I talk about him or her, there’s a strong emotion rolling inside of you. You might even say you hated him or her at the time. But now, with a smile on your face, you can say, “But we respected him. And I needed it at the time.”

Maybe it was that platoon leader, commander, first sergeant, captain, or even a general that you labored for. You remember that individual because they knew you by name. Then you moved on, perhaps up the ranks in promotion, or they changed command or eventually retired. But you know that if you called them up on the phone today, they would know you and call you by name.

That means something, doesn’t it, when someone knows you by name? They have a vested interest in you. You know them because they gave you something. What did they give you? Maybe they were an encourager, a mentor, a model, or an example for your vocation—not just as a warrior but for your marriage, your parenting, or as a single person, to remain faithful, to be a better friend.

In the past 20 years in my time spent with you, the military community, I’ve seen this. You’ve spoken about it and how much certain individuals mean to you. If you don’t have this or haven’t experienced it, that’s okay. Listen to what Jesus says to you today in John 10:27-30: “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

That’s the voice of someone who is more than just a mentor, more than just an encourager, more than just a model or example. This is the voice of a shepherd speaking to his sheep. This is the voice of the Good Shepherd—your Good Shepherd.

For those times when it feels like no one really knows you or understands you, he does. He knows you by name. He put his name on you in your baptism. Your name is written in his book of life—he says that about you! He says that he wrote your name on the palms of his hands so that he always has your name before his eyes. He laid down his life for you only to take it up again, just for you. Yes, he knows you.

For those times when it feels like you’re slipping away from relationships with others for whatever reason . . . or that you’re slipping away from your Shepherd because you haven’t been faithful in listening to his voice . . . or your Bible is a little dusty . . . or the church doors haven’t seen your shadow cross them in a while . . . or your Shepherd hasn’t heard your voice in prayer in a hot minute, he promises, “I still know you. My Father has given you to me. I am not going to let anyone or anything snatch you out of my hand. My Father’s firm grip of grace will not let you go.”

He knows you. Listen to his voice so that you are constantly reminded of that comforting truth. He is your Good Shepherd. You are his sheep. He cares for you. He watches over you. He leads you to green pastures and quiet waters and there feeds your hungry soul and thirsting heart with his words of promise. He leads you through those dark valleys of life.

Listen to that voice of promise so that you know him. Go about your day, knowing that he knows you. Go to sleep tonight with this assurance: he knows you.

Prayer:
O Lord Jesus Christ, you are the Good Shepherd who laid down your life for the sheep. Lead us now to the still waters of your lifegiving Word that we may abide in your Father’s house forevermore.

Heavenly Father, you are the source of life and wisdom and all good things. As we celebrate Military Spouses Day, we ask that you bless all military spouses with faithfulness, patience, and an unswerving trust in your promises to do what Jesus prayed for them.

As we look ahead to Mother’s Day, look with favor on all mothers who have given life to their children and who nurtured them with loving concern and faithful instruction. May their children honor them and call them blessed. When they become weary, sustain them with physical and spiritual rest. Amen.

Based on John 20:19-21

One of my well-loved high school teachers was called home to heaven recently. As I read his obituary, I was reminded that he had served honorably in our nation’s Air Force. He served as a crew member on the B-36, a mammoth aircraft capable of 40-hour flights, carrying a payload of 87,000 pounds of ordnance, and cruising at altitudes beyond the reach of most anti-aircraft guns.

Just the fact that the US Air Force had this aircraft was a warning to other near-peer competitors. The B-36, ironically known as the “Peacemaker,” would force peace through the dropping of bombs, to force the enemy to say, “We cannot endure this loss anymore! Let there be peace between us.”

Although the B-36 was rendered obsolete in 1959, the US Air Force, alongside the other branches of our US military, continues to produce aircraft capable of flying farther and higher and carrying ordnance to any country in the world where there is conflict. And we see conflict today. Some of you are in the middle of that conflict.

We also see conflict not just between nations but between friends, spouses, parents and children, siblings, and co-workers. There is even conflict within our own hearts and minds over the things we have done or left undone.

I started reading a book called Care for the Sorrowing Soul. The author addresses the often-overlooked moral injury suffered by those who have experienced combat. Moral injury occurs when combat reflexes go into automatic mode. The individual postpones their moral processing in that moment and just acts as they carry out the mission. Later, however, the individual’s conscience and heart and moral code recognize that perhaps what they did, what they saw and experienced, maybe even what they failed to do, violated their conscience, their heart, and their moral code. Soul sorrow. Conflict within. No peace.

Is that you? You’re not alone.

Jesus’ closest friends suffered this internal conflict and struggled to find peace. They weren’t engaged in physical combat in war. They struggled through spiritual warfare with the devil and their self-preserving, sinful selves. They abandoned, betrayed, and denied their Lord and Savior, someone they loved dearly! The guilt bore down on their hearts. They were terrified of what they were capable of.

And then Jesus appeared to his friends in the flesh. After they had witnessed the traumatic event of the torture, the crucifixion, the agonizing and painful death, and the finality of burial, now, on Sunday evening, Jesus stood before them alive! What would he say to them? His first words to them (and I picture them accompanied by a warm smile) were, “Peace be with you!” (John 20:19).

Peace—not a hopeful thought from a well-wisher, not a feeling, not peace won by giving them something to do to atone for their sins, not peace earned through acts of penance. This peace had nothing to do with them. This same peace from Jesus has nothing to do with you or anything you must do. Simply open your ears to hear those words for yourself: “Peace be with you!”

Jesus spoke peace because that was reality for his disciples. Whether they felt it or not, whether it would take days, weeks, or months for it to sink in—the reality was that they were at peace because God was at peace with them. Whatever they had done—the abandonment, the denial, the hiding, the fear—it was all forgiven, all pardoned, all washed clean by Jesus’ blood. It was all buried in his tomb, because he went to the cross for them.

Yes, there was peace between God and them. They could now have peace with each other for whatever accusatory thoughts they had against each other. They could now have peace with themselves because they could say, “God is at peace with me. I will be at peace with myself and others.”

So it is true for you and me. Whatever it is you have done or failed to do—in combat, in training, in our homes, in our communities, in our churches—you are at peace. Jesus went to the cross for you, became the guilty one for you, and rose from the dead to prove that your guilt and failures and awful things you have done lie dead and buried in the tomb.

So be at peace with each other and be at peace with yourself, for God is at peace with you in Christ Jesus, your crucified and living Savior.

Prayer:
O risen Lord, you came to your disciples and took away their fears with your word of peace. Come to us also by Word and sacrament—in our baptisms and in your Lord’s Supper—and banish our fears with the comforting assurance of your abiding presence and peace.

I ask that you comfort those who suffer and struggle with moral injury. Calm and still their hearts with the good news that you took their guilt on your soul and in your heart, so they might be free of guilt and free to live in the joy of forgiveness. In your name I pray. Amen.

Based on Luke 19:28-40

I received a text from a US Navy sailor who asked, “Chaplain Horn, could you please say a prayer today for my shipmates? They were underway and then out of the blue were told that their tour got extended by a handful of months. They are headed right into the thick of it in the Middle East.”

I reached out to one of our deployed US Army soldiers who is in Eastern Europe and asked, “How I can pray for you today?” He responded, “Pray for peace. The number of dead bodies in large-scale combat is not something we can fathom in our American minds.”

Earlier today I reached out to an Air Force National Guardsman who just deployed, asking how she was. She responded, “I just landed in country. I start my job tonight. Pray that my wing supports those who fly sorties, but I’m more concerned about my husband and infant son back home. Please pray for them.”

Jesus said that there will be wars and rumors of wars. These are the things that keep us up at night and cause anxiety, and the reason our prayer lists do not diminish but seem to always increase. It feels that this is ever-present in our life. And it is. It’s because of the presence of sin in a broken world. Some have asked, “Is it proper for us to pray for peace? Will it actually happen on this earth? Is this something that our King in heaven can actually bring about?”

This coming Sunday you will hear about this King, on the Sunday we call Palm Sunday, or Sunday of the Passion. You will most likely hear the story of Jesus as he rides into the city of Jerusalem on a donkey. The disciples and the crowds of people cut down branches from the trees and lay them down in the dirt road to show respect for a king as he comes into his city. They shout, “Hosanna!” We hear this ancient word all the way back in the psalms. It’s a cry to the Lord that says, “Save us!” And that’s exactly what the King comes to do. He rides into Jerusalem to save—to save by going to war.

He goes to war against all that keeps us up at night, against all that makes us anxious. He goes to war against war itself. He goes to war with death and grave. He goes to war against the devil and his forces of evil, who use war and anxiety and fear and frustration to cast doubt in our minds that our King can truly save us. He goes to war by sitting atop a donkey, amid the cheers of “Hosanna!” He goes and he does just that: He saves.

He saves not with Tomahawk missiles but in meekness. He saves not with a show of force but in weakness. He wins by way of a cross and a tomb. Not much of a military strategist, is he? But he wins but stomping on the head of the devil, crushing death by rising from his tomb.

With this victory, no more can Satan cast doubt in our hearts about this King, for he has done what he said he would do. No more can death and grave scare us into submission. For this King lives and lives to give us the sure confidence of life eternal. This King saves. This King restores all things, and he does this for you.

Whatever keeps you up at night, whatever causes you to feel anxious, be at peace. Know that Jesus came to save you, your loved ones, and your battle buddies—to save them from all that might frighten us.

As for that for peace, the answer is, “Yes.” When we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, “Give us our daily bread,” part of that prayer includes peace for the nations. When there is peace, when there is good government, there is safety. When there is peace and safety there is the ability to earn our daily bread in our varied vocations. Peace helps us love and serve our neighbor. Even in wartime and disaster, there is certainly opportunity for us to love and serve our neighbor.

Let us pray for peace, and pray that our hearts may be at peace, knowing and believing and trusting that this King saves. He saves us now and for eternity.

Prayer:

We praise you, O God, for the great acts of love by which you have redeemed us and saved us through your Son, Jesus Christ. As he was acclaimed by those who scattered their garments and branches of palms in his path, so may we always hail him as our King and follow him with perfect confidence.

Keep safe all our nation’s warriors and those who support them. Bring peace to those areas of our world where there is conflict.

Continue to bless our nation’s Air Force Reserve, which celebrates its birthday on April 14. It is by your gracious hand, Lord, that since 1948 you have provided a combat-ready force for varied missions across the Air Force. Today, as these men and women deploy weather reconnaissance to keep our pilots safe and engage in modular aerial firefighting and Pararescue, keep them always ready to assure victory for our nation—anytime, anywhere, to “fly, fight, and win.” We ask this in your gracious name. Amen.

Based on Luke 15:1-3,11-32

He had recently run a new flag up the flagpole in his yard. Of course I was going to ask him about it, because it was a 101st Airborne flag that he now proudly flew. I discovered that he was a Vietnam veteran. I offered to treat him to coffee and said, “I would love to hear more about your story. I just want to understand more.” He obliged, so we went to coffee. He didn’t really say much about his time in Vietnam. The most he said was, “I did the job that I had to do, and then I came home. That’s about all I have to say about that.”

He clearly did not want to talk about what he had done or what he had seen. After he shared his MOS (Military Occupational Specialty), I guessed that he had seen some stuff, experienced some things, and maybe done some things that he didn’t really want to share with me, and that was okay. I was fine with that.

There are many more like him that I have spoken to in my past 20+ years as a pastor. And now, in the last year and a half as a chaplain, I have heard from you, our nation’s warriors, who have done some things and seen some things. Some of you don’t really want to share.

Then there are others of you who have shared things with me—the things that you have done and the things that you have left undone. And what I can say is that there’s a lot of guilt out there.

The reason I bring this up is because the gospel reading for this coming Sunday is Luke chapter 15, where Jesus tells the story of the prodigal son. Maybe you’ve heard that story before and maybe you haven’t. I don’t want to assume anything, so here’s a quick recap:

Jesus told the story about a son who basically wished his father were dead because he had asked for his father’s inheritance. Beyond conventional reason, the father does this and says to his son, “Here you go. Here is your inheritance.” He split the inheritance up between his son and his brother.

The son then takes his inheritance and travels to a distant country and just completely blows it all on prostitutes, gambling, debauchery, and wild living until he has nothing. He hits rock bottom. He is homeless and jobless, and it’s just a bad situation. He says to himself, I have sinned against my God and my father. I will go home, and I will repent. I will ask my father for forgiveness. I’m going to say to him, “Make me like one of your hired servants. I don’t deserve to be your son anymore.”

But as he is walking home, as Jesus tells the story, the father is watching. He’s waiting for his son to come home. He sees his son in the distance and runs to his son and embraces him, even though the son smells awful and is gaunt and the clothes on his back are like tattered rags and his hair is unkempt.

The son launches into his repentance speech, but the father cuts him off and says, “You belong to this family.” He tells his servants to bring a robe and put a ring on his son’s finger and kill the fattened calf. We are going to have a party, the father says, because “this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So they began to celebrate” (Luke 15:24).

Is that you? Do you feel like that prodigal son?

We use that term to describe this parable, but every time I teach this story, I ask people, “Do you know what prodigal means?” and most folks don’t. Prodigal means reckless spender. Of course, the son was a reckless spender. But the story is not about the son, is it? It’s about the father, the prodigal father, the reckless spender of his love. It’s about the fact that he would give his son his inheritance, first of all, but secondly, that he would welcome his son back as part of the family. So reckless was he with his love that he was willing to spend it all on his son because he loved him so much.

This is the story of you and me, isn’t it? It’s the story of those of you who don’t want to share with anybody else the things that you have done. It’s the story of those of you who have shared the things that you’ve done yet feel like that prodigal son, because you have recklessly spent your youth and your morals and your convictions or whatever it is that you have done. You have a prodigal Father. He welcomes you back because of your baptism, when he adopted you into his family. He promises that every time we repent and say to our Father, “I am sorry. I have sinned against heaven and against you,” the Father opens his arms and embraces us and kisses us and hugs us and says, “You are part of the family.”

The Father can say this because he is the reckless spender of his love. He doesn’t withhold anything. He offers up his most prized possession, his own Son, who suffers and bleeds and dies and takes your guilt and mine and nails it to the cross and puts it to death forever. He loves you so much that he does that for you. The Father loves you so much that he is the reckless spender who will say to you every time you come to him, “Yes, you are my son. You are my daughter. You are forgiven. You are part of my family, and the inheritance that I gave you, which is my Son and his life and death and resurrection and heaven itself—all of that is still yours.”

This is the kind of Father you have: a reckless spender of his love. So, my dear friends, go to him. Go to him in repentance. Go to him and find rest and hope and comfort, knowing that your Father is a reckless spender of his love for you.

Prayer:
Almighty God, our heavenly Father, your mercies are new every morning; and though we deserve only punishment, you receive us as your children and provide for all our needs of body and soul. Grant that we may heartily acknowledge your merciful goodness, give thanks for all of your benefits, and serve you in willing obedience.

Lord God, this March 29th our nation pauses to recognize Vietnam War Veterans Day. As we look back to this war, we are reminded of what a horrible thing war is. You know those who carry heavy burdens because of friends lost, friends who still suffer silently, and those who still suffer from moral injuries and physical and spiritual pain. Use us to lead them to Jesus, who bears their burdens, who forgives their sins, and who brings everlasting hope. Amen.

Based on Philippians 3:17-4:1

Where is home? I know that’s a loaded question for someone who serves in our nation’s military or is a dependent of a military member. You might answer, “Well, it depends . . .”

Where is home? Home could be the barracks; a tiny on-base apartment in the middle of the Pacific; a CONEX container fitted out with A/C in the Middle East; a ship rocking back and forth in the middle of the ocean; or a small, rented home just outside of the gate. Home might mean a house you purchased with your own money.

Home for you—in the back of your mind—is always temporary, isn’t it? As much as you try to bloom where you’re planted, you know that eventually you’ll say, “We’re gonna move.”

And there always seems to be a longing to “go back home,” wherever that is for you—where you’re from, where a good number of friends and family live, and where they’ve lived for as long as you can remember.

For some, there is a longing, a nostalgia to return “home,” but when you go back to visit, it doesn’t always quite play out the way you envisioned in your mind. The time with family and friends doesn’t always go the way you hoped it would. So in this weird twist in your mind and heart, you’re almost happy to be back home where you live: your house, the barracks, that tiny apartment just outside of the gate, the on-base housing.

This longing for home only proves that this place, planet earth, and wherever it is you currently lay your head on your pillow at night, is temporary. All of it. That’s because God has put eternity in our hearts. It’s not just a feeling. God comes right out and says it.

In our reading today, the apostle Paul wrote to Christians who lived in Philippi, which is modern-day Turkey. Philippi was a Roman colony for military veterans, who were very proud of their Roman citizenship. They knew their names were written on a ledger in Rome, which backed up that reality. The Philippians dressed like people in Rome. They spoke like Romans. They incorporated Roman culture into their city. They longed for the city of Rome.

Paul points the Christians in Philippi and us to our permanent eternal home. He writes, “But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20). In your eternal home in heaven, your names are written in the book of life. There you will be dressed like people in heaven are dressed: in the white robes of Christ’s righteousness. There you will speak the language of heaven, singing the praises of him who called you to that home. There the souls of those who have gone before us call it home and are already enjoying that blessed place called heaven.

So whether you are preparing to PCS this summer, ship out to basic training, go TDY, deploy, or redeploy, or if you’re staying put for a while at your current duty station, would you do this today? Pause, look around you, and say, “Lord, here’s where you have put me. I am here at this time and at this place. It is good to be here. But I have an eternal home. Lord Jesus, help me to keep my eyes fixed on that eternal home, where you are, where some of my dear friends and family in Christ have gone, where someday I too will be.”

Yes, heaven is your home.

Prayer:
Almighty God, you see that we have no power to defend ourselves. Guard and keep us both outwardly and inwardly from all adversities that may happen to the body and all evil thoughts that may assault and hurt the soul, knowing that my body and soul are in your protective care until you call me home to heaven.

Lord God, this week we celebrate with our nation’s largest wartime veterans service organization, the American Legion, which has actively sought to strengthen our nation since 1919. Lord, we ask that you bless the programs and services of the American Legion so that you through them might enhance the wellbeing of America’s veterans, their families, our military, and our communities. In your name I pray. Amen

Based on Luke 9:28-36

So, where are you going? Where is your next duty station?

These are questions I’ve been asking our military members as the PCS season is fast approaching. Are you looking to fill a billet, a slot, and hoping and praying that for one of your top five billets your name is on the top of that list? Where would you like to land? I know some of you would like to fill a billet that advances your career, or perhaps puts you closer to family or friends, or takes you to a part of the country or the world you’ve never been to before. Maybe it’s your final duty station. You’ve already begun working on that paperwork as you transition out of military life to civilian life.

For some, you know exactly how the next few years will play out for you. It’s been mapped out. For others, you’re not so sure. Wouldn’t it be would helpful if the all-knowing God stood you on top of a mountain and pointed down to a path coming down that mountain, and on that path God has laid out everything for you: every PCS, every deployment, every redeployment, every school, every training, all of the difficult times that lie ahead so you can prepare for them, and every joy so that you can rejoice in them? Wouldn’t that be nice?

Well, he does. Walk with me up a mountain with three of Jesus’ friends: John and his brother James, and their buddy Peter. Follow Jesus up a mountain. Watch and listen as he prays. And then look! See him transfigured before your eyes. The lowly, ordinary Jesus, the Jew from Nazareth, is suddenly transfigured. You can read this story in Luke chapter 9. There Luke describes Jesus’ clothes as they became bright as a flash of lightning. His face shines like the sun. It is so glorious that the disciples grovel in the dirt, sinners who realize they are standing in the presence of the divine.

Jesus is transformed into something glorious, like God . . . because that’s who he was and is: God in the flesh. But here on the mountain he pulls back the curtain on his humanity and allows his disciples and us, through their eyewitness testimony, to see Jesus for who he is: God for us. While the disciples are shielding their eyes, two prophets from Old Testament appear with Jesus—Moses and Elijah—and they are chatting with Jesus. Luke tells us they are talking “about [Jesus’] departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem” (Luke 9:31). They discussed his departure . . . his death on the cross and his glorious resurrection from the dead and his glorious ascension back into heaven.

The all-knowing God stands us on the mountain and points to a path leading down the mountain. He points to all of the hardships and joys of your life and shows you their glorious end: a grave—your grave—a vacated grave. The end includes a glorious resurrection, a glorious eternity in heaven, where you will behold the face of Jesus in all of its glory without shielding your eyes, without groveling in the dirt, because you are covered in his glory, in his righteousness. This is the big picture. God reveals it to you.

No matter what this PCS season brings, no matter which billet you fill, no matter which duty station you get or don’t get, no matter the length of the deployment cycle, no matter where you land after your discharge from the military—God has shown you the big picture. Jesus is still God. Jesus is still glorious. Jesus knows the path you will walk. Jesus knows the hardships and the joys you will experience. Jesus knows the glorious end of your life’s journey. It ends the same way it begins. With him.

See the big picture. Know that Jesus is your big picture.

Prayer:
Lord God, before the suffering and death of your one and only Son, you revealed his glory on the holy mountain. Grant that we who bear his cross on earth may behold by faith the light of his heavenly glory and so be changed into his likeness.

This week, Lord, we celebrate with both the Navy Reserve and Seabees, who celebrate birthdays this week. Since 1915 you have provided faithful men and women who are willing to serve in their civilian vocations and train as sailors at the same time, ready and willing to deploy wherever their country needs them.

For the past 83 years through our Seabees, you have provided miles of bridges, roads, bases, and airfields around the world as our Navy’s construction force. Continue to bless our nation’s defense forces through the men and women who serve in our Navy. Lord Jesus, in your name we pray. Amen.