One of Luther’s favorite things to preach about was Christmas—God made flesh to save us.

Nathaniel J. Biebert

Martin Luther and Christmas were like two peas in a pod. He called Christmas a “great festival,” a “beautiful festival,” a “lovely festival.” He called the Christmas story a “joyful, blessed history,” a “comforting, lovely account.” He composed three original Christmas hymns—Christian Worship 33, 38, and 53—including his famous 15-stanza hymn “From Heaven Above to Earth I Come.” In fact, Luther and Christmas have become so intertwined in many minds that when “Away in a Manger” was first published in the 1880s, it was falsely claimed that Luther had composed both text and tune for his children.

But what married Martin Luther to Christmas more than anything else was his preaching. Between 1514 and 1544, he preached at least 47 different Christmas sermons on Luke 2:1-20 alone, not to mention the Christmas sermons he preached on Matthew chapter 1, John chapter 1, and Isaiah chapter 9, and the Christmas sermons he prepared only for print. Just between 1527 and 1533, he preached six sermon series on Luke chapter 2, each of them three to five sermons long.

Luther himself tells us how he could do that and why he did: “[The account of Christ’s birth] is a rich history on which there are many sermons to preach” (Luther’s Works [WA], Vol. 29, p. 679). “By God’s grace we know almost all of this Gospel text quite well; on the other hand, we don’t know it at all. We know it well because we hear it and read it and sing it so often . . . and yet we know nothing. That is why we are moved by it only a little or not at all, and it does not go to our hearts and does not occupy us as it ought.” If we knew it well, we would always “have joy and delight from it” (WA, Vol. 23, p. 726).

Luther almost invariably began his sermons on Luke chapter 2 with “the history.” Jesus’ birth was not merely a cute story. “Notice the certainty in the statement of the evangelist [Luke] that the birth of Christ took place at the time of Emperor Augustus and when Cyrenius was governor of the Roman Empire in Syria” (LW, Vol. 52, p. 8). All the comfort we derive from the Christmas story is rooted in its historicity. “Is he here for the sake of the geese, cows, or pigs? He is a human. If he had wanted to help the pigs, he would have assumed the nature of a pig. . . . He has put on human nature; he was made the son of a virgin” (WA, Vol. 37, p. 236).

The fact that Mary had to give birth to Jesus in shameful circumstances was proof that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, that he came to suffer and that those who bear his name must suffer, and that he came for a world of sinful rogues and wretches. The world either thinks little of the account or think that it’s ridiculous, but believers revel in every detail like the angels did.

Luther then moved on to the angel’s message to the shepherds, “the first and best preaching” in the New Testament (WA, Vol. 29, p. 656). Don’t miss it when the angel says that a Savior is born “to you.” “T-O Y-O-U [in Luke 2:11] should be written in large letters” (WA, Vol. 27, p. 493), yes, “in blazing letters” (WA, Vol. 37, p. 236). “For, if it is true that the child was born of the virgin and is mine, then I have no angry God and I must know and feel that there is nothing but laughter and joy in the heart of the Father and no sadness in my heart. For, if what the angel says is true, that he is our Lord and Savior, what can sin do against us?” (LW, Vol. 51, p. 216). The angel’s sermon is also proof that God communicates his grace and works saving faith through the proclamation of the gospel.

When Luther reached the song of the angel host, he divided it into three stanzas:

1) “Glory” belongs “to God in the highest,” not to our works or merit.

2) “Peace on earth” is the result of the Christ-child’s birth for those who believe he came to reconcile them with God.

3) When humans have this peace, then they also have “good will,” which Luther said he would rather translate as “delight” (WA, Vol. 49, p. 291).

From the example of the shepherds, Luther taught that faith in Christ produces good works. And good works are not limited to what is done in a monastery or in an official church-related position (after all, “the shepherds returned” to their flocks).

Luther simply could not get over the miracles of Christmas. It was miracle enough that God would stoop so far down as to assume human nature in the womb of the virgin. “But is even more miraculous that the Son of God . . . does this for the sake of the poor, condemned human race, to deliver them from the curse and the devil’s power and to restore them to their proper condition again” (WA, 10/3:432).

Perhaps this is all best summed up in a Christmas hymn that predated the Reformation and seems to have been Luther’s favorite. He quoted it at least five times in

his Christmas sermons and cited it as proof that the gospel was preserved even in the darkness of the pope’s false teaching:

For us today is born a child,

A perfect son so peerless,

Of Mary, fair maid undefiled,

To cheer mankind so cheerless.

Were he not born, we all had dwelled

In fear and fire, from God expelled—

Salvation’s ours forever!

To you, sweet Jesus, glory be

For sharing in humanity!

Let hell subdue us never! (Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary 131:2)

Nathaniel Biebert is pastor at Risen Savior, Austin, Texas.

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, this is the final article in a 12-part series on our Lutheran heritage.

Want to read more of Luther’s Christmas sermons? Check out Biebert’s recently published English translation of Luther’s Christmas sermons on Isaiah 9:6.

Luther still speaks

In his book on the bondage of the will, Luther wrote, “What matter of more sacred importance can lie hidden in Scriptures now that the seals are broken, the stone is rolled from the sepulcher, and that greatest of all mysteries is brought to light: Christ, the Son of God made Man—God Triune and yet One, Christ, who suffered for us and will rule eternally? Are not these things known and sung in our very streets? Take Christ out of the Scriptures, and what else will you find in them?” (What Luther Says, Vol. 1, #437).

“Keep Christ in Christmas” urged the sign on the front lawn. Luther would agree, and so do we. At the center of our salvation lies the glorious teaching of God becoming man to save us. That little baby clothed in the diapers of poverty is a miracle of love.

Maybe we should also have yard signs that read “Keep Christ after Christmas.” The Bethlehem crib is only part of the story of our salvation. If the account were to end there, Jesus’ birth would still be a miracle, but worth nothing to us. That diapered holy child asleep on the hay must lead to the sin-laden one on the cross for whose seamless robe calloused soldiers cast their dice. Nor dare it end on that skull-shaped Good Friday knoll. An emptied borrowed Easter tomb and a “mission accomplished” Ascension complete the story of redemption.

Of course, we want to keep the Savior’s birth at the heart of our Christmas joy. But we surely don’t want to stop there. “Christ, the Son of God made Man . . . Christ, who suffered for us and will rule eternally” are things we know and will want to sing about all year long.

Richard Lauersdorf is a pastor at Good Shepherd, West Bend, Wisconsin.  

Author: Nathaniel J. Biebert & Richard E. Lauersdorf
Volume 104, Number 12
Issue: December 2017

Copyrighted by WELS Forward in Christ © 2021
Forward in Christ grants permission for any original article (not a reprint) to be printed for use in a WELS church, school, or organization, provided that it is distributed free and indicate Forward in Christ as the source. Images may not be reproduced except in the context of its article. Contact us

Gospel freedom is often a Reformation truth we take for granted.  

Wade R. Johnston 

What has become the most memorable Reformation truth of our hymns, the most powerful of our preachments, the most lasting in our conversations as brothers and sisters? What was the point of Luther’s Reformation? It’s the very thing we so easily take for granted, that the church in every age has been tempted to move beyond, that resonates so poorly with our fallen human nature: that Christ was crucified for sinners—and you qualify.  

How can we take this for granted? Can we forget both what we were and what we are? We were dead in trespasses and sins, lost, condemned under the law, slaves to iniquity, under God’s wrath. We were that way before we could walk or talk, cheat or steal. We were born that way. Now we are children of God. We have been redeemed, forgiven, ransomed, set free. We have been born that way, born again in the waters of Holy Baptism. We are this, not on our own, but in Christ, by grace, through faith, which is the gift of God through the Word.  

At the heart of Luther’s message is the distinction in Lutheran theology, law and gospel. The law kills. The gospel makes alive. The law accuses. The gospel pardons. The law exposes. The gospel clothes. The law says “do,” and it can never be completely done, and the gospel says “done,” and all that is done is freely given, completed by Christ who died and rose for us.  

Saint and sinner 

We find freedom in this gospel. And yet we remain sinner-saints this side of the grave. That is, while we are children of God, the sinful flesh still hangs around our neck, the old Adam still kicks and screams, tempts and prods. For this reason, we can take the gospel for granted. The old Adam tugs and pushes us back under the law or into lawless immorality.  

Perhaps we want to let works back into salvation, to do something—any something, even just a little—to help Christ out, to climb the ladder to heaven just a little under our own power. The other temptation is that we want to plunge into lawlessness, to abuse our freedom, to live as though we have been freed to sin and not freed from sin.  

Whatever the case, freedom can be scary, and life as a sinner-saint is a struggle. We can easily get distracted, sidetracked, bored, or ungrateful with God’s good gifts and his gospel.  

Freedom to live 

As we celebrate this 500th anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation, now is the time to refocus and to reclaim our freedom, not by doing, but by receiving and by hearing. And Christ is still speaking. The Word is still living. The Spirit is still active. The church is still standing. The pulpit, altar, and font still call out, “Freedom, freedom, here is true freedom, freedom to live life in a world given back to you, all as a gift, all in Christ, all for your neighbor. You need nothing more. You are free from sin to live for Jesus and others.” 

The gospel isn’t just a set of facts; it’s a force. It’s a force that stakes claims and declares realities. Luther realized this. The righteous live by faith. That’s right, they live! Confident in their standing before God, the righteous are set free to stand in grace, walk in the Spirit, and serve with the trust that no work is too small in Christ’s sight, no neighbor too unworthy, no audience too slight. The Christian is called out of point-keeping and ladder-climbing and kudos-earning into spontaneous, selfless, joyous service to Christ and neighbor—not for salvation, but as one saved. The Christian is free. Free to be a father or mother, to enjoy a meal, to dance, to sing, to do his or her job, to talk and listen and laugh, not in order to be something, but rather having been declared, already being, something—namely, God’s own child.  

When everything is a gift, all that is left is freedom and joy and peace, even in suffering. Enamored with Christ, who first loved us and gave himself for us, we receive the world and all that is in it back again from his pierced hands for what it is. We look forward to a new heaven and a new world that will transcend anything here or anything we can imagine. We can let today be today, this world be this world, and thus live freely in the moment and in this life, even as we pine for the new Jerusalem that awaits.  

Next time you find yourself less than impressed with the church’s chief message and gift to the world, Christ crucified for sinners, remember that you qualify. Ask yourself if you’ve fallen back into slavery, whether to sin or to work-righteousness; whether you’ve been living tit-for-tat, as someone with no tomorrow or with a today that is less than a gift. And then remember you’ve been buried to such fruitless effort; that you’ve been baptized into new life; and that you are a son or daughter of the Jesus Christ who died your death, not for you to live in chains, but to set you free.  

One of my favorite prayers is a short one: “Jesus, be Jesus for me.” Jesus is Jesus for me. And Jesus is Jesus for you. That is the whole point of the Scriptures. Jesus came to be Jesus for us.  

So, look around. See the world around you. See it for what it is, your family, your friends, your job—all of it. It’s for you, from Jesus. It’s a world given back to a sinner declared a saint, to a dead man or woman brought back to life.   

Wade Johnston, a professor at Wisconsin Lutheran College, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, is a member at Nain, West Allis, Wisconsin. 

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, this is the ninth article in a 12-part series on our Lutheran heritage.

Luther still speaks

Richard E. Lauersdorf

As the Reformation continued, Luther voiced a deep concern. In a sermon on John 7:37-39, he warned, “When the Word of God first arose, twelve or fifteen years ago, people diligently listened to it, and everybody was glad that ‘good works’ were no longer to plague them. They said: God be praised that we now have water to drink. For then we were thirsty, and the doctrine tasted fine; we drank of it and found it a precious teaching. But now we are sated; we are tired of the drink and are surfeited with it” (What Luther Says, Vol. 3, #3817). 

“Familiarity breeds contempt,” states an old proverb. This can happen also with the “pearl” of the Reformation, the teaching that we are saved by grace alone through faith in Christ’s work of redemption. The more we hear this saving truth the more it might fade in value in our sight. 

“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,” the pastor preaches in every sermon. Having heard it all before, we might be tempted just to nod nonchalantly. “Jesus died for me,” we teach our children. But again that blessed truth can become a sentence recited only by rote instead of with joy.  

Our itching ears may want something new, something more modern and relevant. Something that centers on man’s efforts instead of on God’s timeless grace. Something that addresses the needs in society instead of the thirst of the soul.   

This month as we celebrate the Reformation, may the Lord of the church give us a renewed thirst for the gospel water of life. 

Richard Lauersdorf is a pastor at Good Shepherd, West Bend, Wisconsin.

Author: Wade R. Johnston & Richard E. Lauersdorf
Volume 104, Number 10
Issue: October 2017

Copyrighted by WELS Forward in Christ © 2021
Forward in Christ grants permission for any original article (not a reprint) to be printed for use in a WELS church, school, or organization, provided that it is distributed free and indicate Forward in Christ as the source. Images may not be reproduced except in the context of its article. Contact us

Law and gospel. Diagnosis and cure. We need both. The law show us our sin, and the gospel shows us our Savior.

Joel V. Petermann

Toleration. That’s been the catchword for the first decades of the 21st century. In social settings it means that we accept other cultures and races without passing judgment on or discriminating against them. It means we don’t judge anyone’s actions and orientations if they are different from ours. In the education setting it often means we are careful not to tell a student they have made a mistake. Instead of pointing out an error, we are to dwell only on the positive.

Unfortunately, toleration easily becomes indulgence, and it also can cause chaos. A toleration mindset that accepts the idea that nothing is wrong, anything goes, or you just have to accept that others are different from you means no standards, guidelines, or boundaries for behavior or thought exist. In society, relativity becomes the watchword; what may be wrong for you is okay for me. Such thinking leaves us unable to enforce laws, to punish wrongdoers, and to keep order. In school, students begin to lose the ability to accept constructive criticism and to rise above failures.

Let’s face it, none of us like to be told that we have done something wrong. It affects our self-worth. It demotes “ego.” It can depress us or make us angry. We often respond to accusations of failure with defensiveness or excuses. We try to find a way to make ourselves look better, to restore our self-fantasy that we are better than we really are.

So toleration is handy. It speaks the language of our soul. Don’t tell me I can’t be the way I am. Don’t tell me I’ve made a mistake. Let me live in my bubble of self-glory, and I’m much happier.

At least so I think.

Law speaks harsh reality

Martin Luther knew that this isn’t the way that Scripture speaks. God’s Word has two teachings. Even though the Bible calls one of them the “strange” work of God (Isaiah 28:21), it is nevertheless his work. It isn’t the work of toleration. It is the work of calling a spade a spade. It isn’t couched in politically correct verbiage. It doesn’t allow for any wiggle room or loopholes. It is called God’s law. Proper use of the law in our lives is to let the ax fall true and swift. The law cuts to the heart of the matter. There is no, “yes, but” allowed. Wrong is wrong. Right is right.

Luther pulled no punches when he categorically stated, “That . . . upon which you set your heart and put your trust is properly your god” (Concordia Triglotta, p. 538). That’s the first commandment. You either worship the Lord your God and he is most important to you, or you are an idolator. If money is more important to you than God, then money is your idol. There is no middle ground.

The rest of the Ten Commandments are not tolerant of our lives of sin. Say the name of Jesus flippantly and you are sinning. Despise God’s Word by not gladly hearing it and you sin. Disrespecting your mom and dad is not mimicking the Simpsons, it is sin. Abortion and hatred are both sins. Revenge is sin. Having an affair online is sin. Feasting your eyes on sexy pictures or movies is sin. Wanting everything in the ad flyers or online sidebars even though you don’t have the money is sin. Badmouthing your boss in the breakroom is sin. It’s not just sin if we act on it; it’s sin already in our hearts. That’s not toleration. It’s truth. There are standards. They’re called God’s commands, and they are not negotiable.

Gospel is good news

But neither is his gospel. That’s the other teaching which God’s Word speaks to us. Luther knew it better than anyone, because Luther had deep anguish over his sin. He knew that God didn’t tolerate his sin. He feared God. He trembled at the intoleration of God’s law. It is perfect and unbending. That’s why Luther found the gospel so sweet. The gospel is complete and final. The gospel simply states: “Don’t be afraid!” Why shouldn’t we be afraid of the intolerant law? Because the law finds its end in Christ and his cross. The law is destroyed by the conquering cry, “It is finished!” The law’s threats and curses are gagged by the Easter morning declaration: “He is not here; he has risen, just as he said” (Matthew 28:6).

God didn’t tolerate our sin. He paid its price for us. He became the damned in our place. There is no more wonderful truth. My worth is not found by convincing myself I am not as bad as I know I am. It is found in knowing that Jesus loves me as I am. He gave me new worth—worth in God’s eyes through his precious blood. That’s the uncompromising truth God’s Word and Luther still speak today.

Joel Petermann, president of Michigan Lutheran Seminary, Saginaw, Michigan, is a member at St. Paul, Saginaw.

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, this is the seventh article in a 12-part series on our Lutheran heritage.

Luther still speaks

Luther had much to say about the proper use of the law and the gospel. In a sermon on Galatians 3:23,24 he proclaimed, ‘‘To be sure, both are God’s Word: the law, or the Ten Commandments, and the gospel; the latter first given by God in Paradise, the former on Mount Sinai. But everything depends on the proper differentiation of these two messages and on not mixing them together; otherwise one will know and retain the proper understanding of neither the one or the other.” (What Luther Says, Vol. 2, #2276)

Both law and gospel are God’s Word. Both need to be heard and absorbed by the sinner. In his law God tells us what he wants us to do or not to do. He also shows plainly that we have failed and deserve eternal punishment. In his gospel he tells us how his Son has paid our punishment and fulfilled his demands. We might say the law is God’s strong left arm that shoves the sinner away as unworthy. The gospel is his gentle right arm that draws the sinner close and clothes him with Christ’s righteousness.

When the law is soft-pedaled, the need for the gospel is diminished. Anemic preaching of the law seduces us to careless contentment about our spiritual condition instead of showing us our desperate need for salvation.

When the gospel is thinned out, it leads to uncertainty about our salvation and leaves us with an unsettling question, “Have I done enough?”

A veteran professor once advised, “Preach the law in all its severity. Preach the gospel in all its sweetness.” Luther would agree!

Richard E. Lauersdorf is pastor at Good Shepherd, West Bend, Wisconsin.

Author: Joel V. Petermann & Richard E. Lauersdorf
Volume 104, Number 7
Issue: July 2017

Copyrighted by WELS Forward in Christ © 2021
Forward in Christ grants permission for any original article (not a reprint) to be printed for use in a WELS church, school, or organization, provided that it is distributed free and indicate Forward in Christ as the source. Images may not be reproduced except in the context of its article. Contact us

All believers are equal before God, although they have different roles.

Michael A. Woldt

“Pastor, will you pray for me?”

As a pastor, I’m happy to pray for my brothers and sisters in Christ. However, I bristle when I hear someone add, “You have an extra-special connection with Jesus. He’ll listen if you ask.”

Whenever someone expresses the thought that a pastor’s prayers are handled like “priority mail” before God’s throne while the prayers of “ordinary” believers wind up in the “presorted standard” pile . . . I feel compelled to respond. “I’ll gladly pray for you,” I say, “but please understand that your prayers are just as important as mine. You and I have the same connection to Jesus. We are both God’s royal priests.”

The priesthood of believers

Let’s ask the good Lutheran question: “What does this mean?” Perhaps the term priest conjures up images of bloody Old Testament sacrifices or a cleric in full garb carefully chanting the Mass. Peter paints a different picture. “You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. . . . You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:5,9).

We become God’s priests when the Holy Spirit brings us to faith through the gospel. “To [Christ], who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father” (Revelation 1:5,6). As royal priests, we enjoy forgiveness of sins and access to the Father at all times (Ephesians 2:18). Everything we do as Christians, whether at home or through our congregation, is an exercise of our priesthood. We proclaim the praises of God when we share the gospel with others and when we offer our “bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God” (Romans 12:1).

Satan’s war against the truth

Five hundred years ago, God used Luther to restore the biblical teaching that all believers are priests of God. Since then, Satan has been waging war against that same

truth. Satan understands that Jesus loses an army of witnesses when the priesthood of believers fails to declare his praises.

Four hundred years after the Reformation, Professor August Pieper addressed the Nebraska district convention and offered this observation:

Here is a truth that needs to be emphasized in our day, that individual Christians are to exercise their priesthood (as long as they do not violate good order in the church).

Unfortunately, one doesn’t see much of this among us Lutherans. Congregations call someone to be their pastor, others to teach their children, still others to serve as officers of their congregation. But what about the rest of the members? They’re informed of their financial responsibilities and reminded that they’re expected to attend worship services, to receive the Lord’s Supper regularly, and to live a godly life. But the real priestly activity to which Luther referred is usually left up to the called workers. Most often individual Christians as such do not share in preaching and teaching God’s Word, in baptizing and using the Keys, in the priestly work of praying and offering sacrifice, in striving to preserve sound doctrine, and in showing concern for the lives their fellow Christians are leading. It’s almost as though the congregation has hitched its pastor to the congregational wagon, after which the members climb aboard and allow themselves to be pulled along by the pastor. That surely was not Christ’s plan for his church. [Translated from German by the late Professor John Jeske.]

God’s design for gospel ministry

So, what is Christ’s plan for his church? God’s plan is that some Christians are called to serve their fellow priests through the office of the public ministry. “Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up” (Ephesians 4:11,12). However, our Lord did not establish the office of public ministry to replace, diminish, or interfere with the priesthood of all believers. God’s design calls for all believers to function side by side with the office of the public ministry in the one gospel ministry of his church.

Public ministers are called by God through his people. They represent their fellow priests as they lead worship services, administer the sacraments, preach, teach, and visit the sick. Using Word and sacrament, public ministers empower and equip their brothers and sisters in Christ to flourish in their roles as royal priests.

What does a well-functioning priesthood of believers look like? It looks like a repentant sinner pleading for God’s mercy while lying on a pillow damp with tears. It looks like a father reading a gospel-centered devotion to his family after supper. It looks like a mother teaching her toddler to sing “Jesus Loves Me.” It looks like a woman coming out of church and informing her pastor, “I’m praying that Jesus continues to bless your preaching and teaching of his Word.” It looks like a factory worker striking up a conversation with a struggling coworker who needs to hear about the Savior’s unconditional love. It looks like people joined together in our synod to support mission outreach, nurturing ministries, and ministerial education. It looks like every act of kindness and love flowing from a baptized child of God.

The Lutheran Reformation fostered a renewed appreciation for the priesthood of all believers. It exposed Satan’s lie that only professional clergy possess the right to use God’s Word, forgive sins, and approach God in prayer. Every Christian has unlimited access to God. Every Christian enjoys the privilege of declaring God’s praise! Let’s all be the priests we are!

Michael Woldt is pastor at David’s Star, Jackson, Wisconsin.

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, this is the sixth article in a 12-part series on our Lutheran heritage.

Luther still speaks

A basic truth God restored through Luther was the “priesthood of all believers.” Expounding on 1 Peter 2:9, Luther wrote, “It is certainly clear and plain enough that he (St. Peter) speaks to the whole congregation, to all Christians, when he says: You are the chosen generation and the holy people. . . . Some may be selected from the congregation, who then are its officers and ministers, and are appointed to preach in the congregation and administer the Sacraments. But we are all priests before God, if we are Christians. For since we are built on this Stone, who is our High Priest before God, we also have all that he has” (What Luther Says, Vol. 3, #3651).

Every believer is a priest into whose hands the Lord of the church has entrusted “all that Christ has.” Every Christian has the privilege and the duty of telling penitent sinners that the doors of heaven are open.

For the sake of order, the Lord has also given us the office of the ministry. Believers call other believers to be their representatives in their kingdom work. Publicly such called servants preach and teach, not as replacements for believers or as their superiors, but as partners in the greatest work on earth.

There aren’t two classes as the Roman church taught in Luther’s day and today. That teaching proclaimed that the clergy was the superior class that claimed authority from ordination. The laity was the lower class whose duty was as someone put it “confession, contrition, and contribution.” Luther blew the cover off this false teaching. On the clear basis of Holy Scripture, he preached that every believer is a priest before God.

I’m a priest. You’re a priest. Thank God for the privilege. Pray God we be faithful priests.

Richard E. Lauersdorf is pastor at Good Shepherd, West Bend, Wisconsin.

Author: Michael A. Woldt & Richard E. Lauersdorf
Volume 104, Number 6
Issue: June 2017

Copyrighted by WELS Forward in Christ © 2021
Forward in Christ grants permission for any original article (not a reprint) to be printed for use in a WELS church, school, or organization, provided that it is distributed free and indicate Forward in Christ as the source. Images may not be reproduced except in the context of its article. Contact us

Luther held on to the hope we have in Christ, whether in life or in death.

Paul E. Koelpin

In Luther’s medieval world, art of all kinds—both literary and visual—often served as a reminder that in the midst of life we are surrounded by death. We might wonder whether people really needed a reminder. The average lifespan was short in the early 16th century—perhaps only 35 years—in large part because epidemic disease could easily ravage a German village. And infant mortality was high. Coping with death was no easy matter.

Finding victory in death

It was even harder for a young man relentlessly troubled by his conscience. Martin Luther feared the moment of death. How could he face his end with any confidence? Spiritually sensitive and insecure, Luther retreated to the shelter of a monastery. The decision made perfect sense. It was not that monks lived longer, but monks observed a routine of patterned “holiness.” Such a life seemed to offer a ray of hope for his distressed soul. But try as he did—and he tried very hard—he could not find the peace for which he was longing. What lingered was the image of God as judge. Luther despaired of becoming righteous. How could he know he had done enough to be righteous in God’s sight?

Luther began a quest for an answer. He found it in the words of Holy Scripture. There, particularly in St. Paul’s exposition to the Romans, Luther discovered that God supplied the righteousness that sinners lacked. Paul wrote: “This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe” (Romans 3:22). A great exchange occurred on Calvary’s cross. Jesus bore the punishment for all sinners; sinners receive his righteousness. Christ’s victory becomes ours by the gift of faith. Luther’s Easter sermon of 1530 proclaimed both victory and peace. “This is why I do not worry,” he declared with confidence.

Facing the death of loved ones

Just months after he preached that sermon, Luther learned of his father’s death. When he received the news, he was a long way from where he wanted to be. He was staying at the Castle Coburg, on the southwestern edge of Saxony. Luther had wanted to be in Augsburg where supporters of the Lutheran cause had been summoned by the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, to present a confession of their beliefs. But the Emperor had declared Luther to be an outlaw. He could live safely only in Saxony under the protection of the Elector of Saxony. Arrangements were made for Luther to be as close to the proceedings in Augsburg as he could get—the Coburg Castle, several days’ journey away but still in Saxony.

The spring and summer of 1530 were tense and anxious days. According to a well-founded account, Luther scrawled the words of Psalm 118:17 in Latin on the wall of his castle chamber—Non moriar sed vivam et narrabo opera Domini (“I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the LORD has done”)—still memorialized at Coburg today. These words were a confession of Luther’s confident Easter faith. What the psalm writer trusted by promise, Luther knew by faith in Jesus Christ—a declaration that life in Christ is eternal and the days of life here have purpose.

All the same, dealing with the death of a loved one is never easy. After receiving the news of his father’s passing, Luther wrote:

This death has certainly thrown me into sadness, thinking not only [of the bonds] of nature, but also of the very kind love [my father had for me]; for through him my Creator has given me all that I am and have. Even though it does comfort me that [my father], strong in faith in Christ, had gently fallen asleep, yet the pity of heart and the memory of the most loving dealings with him have shaken me in the innermost parts of my being, so that seldom if ever have I despised death as much as I do now. (Luther’s Works [LW] 49:319)

Luther’s reaction was both human and devout. He grieved; he believed. He understood well how the Christian is “buried with [Christ] in baptism” (Colossians 2:12) and must constantly “die to sins” (1 Peter 2:24). For Luther the struggle with the sinful nature did not go away, it was merely transformed by the gospel from a life of failed and futile effort to a life of repentance and faith.

Twelve years later, in 1542, Luther’s 13-year-old daughter, Magdalena, died in his arms—another untimely death. He admitted at the time that his grief was almost too much to bear. Yet he comforted mourners with these words: “You should be pleased! I’ve sent a saint to heaven—yes, a living saint” (LW 54:432-3).

One of Luther’s biographers submitted that the faith of Luther turned the perception of his time on its head. Instead of a preoccupation with death, Christian faith allowed Luther to see that “in the midst of death we are surrounded by life.”

Paul Koelpin, a professor at Martin Luther College, New Ulm, Minnesota, is a member at St. John, New Ulm.

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, this is the fourth article in a 12-part series on our Lutheran heritage.

Luther still speaks

Luther correctly understood the connection between Good Friday and Easter. In an Easter sermon in 1530 he proclaimed, “Know ye, then—sin, death, devil, and everything that assails me—that you are missing the mark. I am not one of those who are afraid of you. For Christ, my dear Lord, has presented to me that triumph and victory of his by which you were laid low. . . . My sin and death hung about his neck on Good Friday, but on the day of Easter they had completely disappeared. This victory he has bestowed on me. This is why I do not worry about you.”

Wouldn’t it be something if Luther were standing in our pulpit this Easter? In a sense he does. When our pastor preaches, it will be the same glorious message that God restored to the church through Luther. Good Friday is nothing without Easter. And there could be no Easter without Good Friday. As the Reformer put it, “My sin and death hung about his neck on Good Friday, but on the day of Easter they had completely disappeared.”

On Good Friday the Savior said of sin’s payment, “It is finished.” On Easter Sunday the Father added his exclamation point by raising his Son from the grave. So what do we have to fear? For us, death is now like a snarling dog that can’t bite us for it has no teeth. For us, death is not a period at life’s end, but a comma, signifying more is yet to come. This is the victory that our crucified and risen Savior bestows on us.

Luther won’t be in our pulpit this Easter, but thank God the message he treasured from the Scriptures will be!

Richard E. Lauersdorf is pastor at Good Shepherd, West Bend, Wisconsin.

Author: Paul S. Koelpin & Richard E. Lauersdorf
Volume 104, Number 4
Issue: April 2017

Copyrighted by WELS Forward in Christ © 2021
Forward in Christ grants permission for any original article (not a reprint) to be printed for use in a WELS church, school, or organization, provided that it is distributed free and indicate Forward in Christ as the source. Images may not be reproduced except in the context of its article. Contact us

Luther identified the doctrine of justification as the doctrine by which the church stands or falls. God attaches the same importance to the doctrine.

Daniel M. Deutschlander

Every doctrine in the Bible is important. We teach every doctrine in God’s Word precisely because it comes from God’s own heart and mouth in the Bible. But we also defend and teach every doctrine because to pervert any doctrine undermines this doctrine by which the church—and our faith—stands or falls. That’s how important it is to get this doctrine right.

God’s diamond

Justification is God’s diamond in his golden bowl. First, let’s marvel at that diamond’s beauty. The holy writers in the Bible never tired of doing that. For example, St. Paul, among his most beautiful summary definitions of this doctrine, writes, “There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:22-24). It’s so simple and so brief, so deep and so profound. Let’s spend a few moments examining this jewel.

Jew or Gentile: Each one of us is one or the other. Together we are descendants from Adam and Eve. In them we were created to reflect the glory of God, his wisdom, his might, his goodness, his justice. We were created to receive him and all that he wants to give us of himself and of his heavenly and eternal kingdom. But we fell short, so short! Through the fall of Adam, we have become a total perversion of God’s gracious intent. What is there for us then? What would you do with a vacuum cleaner that didn’t fulfill its purpose? Throw it in the trash to perish with other such rubbish! That’s what reason would expect God to do with us.

But look! “All are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” To be jus-tified means to be forgiven, to be acquitted in God’s courtroom. He doesn’t throw us into the trash heap of hell. Instead, out of grace, undeserved love, he declares us to be the opposite of what we are both by

nature since Adam’s fall and by our own thoughts, words, and deeds. He declares that he has redeemed the whole world, not by anything we have done or intended to do or tried to do. He has done it all by Christ, the one anointed by God to be our Savior. He did it all! He did it for all! He did it freely, not because he was forced to do it but because of his own measureless love for us. He did it freely, not because we would somehow earn or deserve or pay him for it but because he alone wanted the title of Savior; he would share that title and that work with no one, not a bit of it!

Luther captured the splendor and the simplicity, the beauty and the depth of this diamond doctrine with arguably the most beautiful words ever penned outside of the Bible itself. Of Jesus, he says in the Small Catechism’s explanation to the Second Article of the Apostles’ Creed: “He has redeemed me, a lost and condemned human being. He has purchased and freed me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil, not with gold or silver but with his holy, precious blood and with his innocent suffering and death.”

What Luther says applies to everyone. Were it not so, each of us would have reason to live and die in dread with the question: Does justification cover even me? But there is no such question to torment us! He justified all! He justified me! Christ came for me. By his death and resurrection, Jesus is my Savior too!

God’s golden bowl

How does this verdict from God’s high court come to us? It is in a golden bowl. It comes to us and we receive all of the benefits of this redemption in the golden bowl, that is, the gospel message of the Word. Yes, the Bible is precious simply because it is God’s Word. But it is precious beyond measure because it

is the vessel that holds this diamond from God’s own heart, this decree of justification. Even more important, we would never believe the message of justification were it not that God has attached power to that message. That power in the gospel proclamation of justification overcomes our inborn unbelief and hostility to God. It brings us to trust his Word, to breathe a sigh of relief at the message: Christ redeemed all! Christ redeemed me too!

Again, Luther has captured it so well for us in the Small Catechism. What was Jesus’ goal in redeeming us? “He has done all this in order that I may belong to him, live under him in his kingdom, and serve him in eternal righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, just as he is risen from the dead and lives and rules eternally.”

And how does it all become my own? Luther points to the golden bowl in the explanation to the Third Article: “By my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith.”

Oh, may we never tarnish the golden bowl through false doctrine, lest we darken the radiance streaming from the heart of God in this diamond of justification! Instead, give thanks, worship, and adore the Savior for this diamond in God’s golden bowl.

Dan Deutschlander, a retired professor, is a member at St. Mark, Watertown, Wisconsin.

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, this is the first in a 12-part series on our Lutheran heritage.

Small Catechism quotes are from The Book of Concord.

Luther still speaks

For Luther there was no more important teaching in Scripture than justification. Writing to a friend in 1530, he stated, “This doctrine is the head and the cornerstone. It alone begets, nourishes, builds, preserves , and defends the church of God; and without it the church of God cannot exist for one hour” (What Luther Says, Vol. 2, #2195).

Simply put, in the courtroom of heaven, God the holy Judge declared the whole world of sinners not guilty. He did this not because he ignores sin, but because his Son Jesus paid the penalty for all sinners. When the Holy Spirit brings the sinner to faith, Jesus’ payment becomes the sinner’s very own. God signed the check of forgiveness for the world. The Holy Spirit writes our name on the recipient line when he brings us to faith.

In Luther’s time, this precious truth was buried deep under the debris of man-made teaching and tradition. Thank God he used his servant Martin Luther to blow the dust off and restore it. Without the doctrine of justification we would never be sure of our salvation. If we were serious about reaching heaven, it would be by pounding the rungs of our own works on the ladder and never being sure it was tall enough. When we would sin daily, there would be only dread of punishment instead of the comfort of heavenly forgiveness. When we would close our eyes for the last time, it would be without the assurance that we would open them in heaven.

The doctrine of justification has rightly been called the article by which the church stands and without which it falls. We don’t know if Luther ever used those words, but that’s what he taught. So do we. God help us ever to do so.

Richard E. Lauersdorf is a pastor at Good Shepherd, West Bend, Wisconsin.

Author: Dan Deutschlander
Volume 104, Number 2
Issue: February 2017

Copyrighted by WELS Forward in Christ © 2021
Forward in Christ grants permission for any original article (not a reprint) to be printed for use in a WELS church, school, or organization, provided that it is distributed free and indicate Forward in Christ as the source. Images may not be reproduced except in the context of its article. Contact us