my thoughts, they bark like hounds

i focus on my breathing in the universal sound

A sermon on Isaiah's vision & sermon to Hezekiah:

This is the sound of Christmas. *Ring jingle bells.* At least, according to the airwaves. ISAIAH, though, says the coming of Christmas sounds more like this. *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

The vision Isaiah’s given is a striking one. It sounds more like an instrument of war being hammered into an implement for farming, *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* than jingle bells. And that’s a good thing, too. Because only a sound that piercing could ring out over what Isaiah had to live through. 

In today’s Scripture, Assyrian, the enemy, is at Jerusalem's gate. And the enemy wants to make their presence felt, too. 

You may have noticed that detail about how Assyria’s emissary, the Rabshakeh, spoke in the language of Judah. Well, that’s significant. It’s significant because when the armies of Assyria rolled on Jerusalem’s gate, Hezekiah, the king of Israel, sent out a delegation to see if a peace could be brokered between the two nations. 

Instead of negotiating, though, the Rabshakeh delivered a screed. A speech intended to deliver that one-two punch of fear and doubt. And the Rabshakeh gives this tirade, NOT to the officials, but to the general populace. That’s why the Rabshakeh speaks in the language everyone can understand. And it’s why the Rabshakeh shouts the message, too, so everyone can hear AND understand just what the Rabshakeh has to say. 

Pretty underhanded. Huh? 

The Rabshakeh intends to end the battle before it even begins. The Rabshakeh wants to convince the natives there’s no use going to battle for their nation. And the Rabshakeh does this by depicting his master, the king of Assyria, as the one who bends reality itself with his POWER and his MIGHT.

Can you even imagine anything like this happening? It’d be like an avowed nonbeliever BURSTING through these doors and shouting, “You CAN’T trust what the pastor is telling you! Death and taxes, THAT’S all there is. So you might as well go home and make your peace with it. STOP wasting your time here.” 

Can you even imagine that?

You know what, though? You can. In fact, you don’t even have to imagine that. You’ve experienced it! Why you might even be experiencing it right now. *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

…Last Saturday, we laid saint Mary Huddleston to rest. Peace be upon her. Mary was from a little town between here and Iowa City. And that’s where she wanted to be buried. 

Because some of her family is cautious about Covid, the entire service was held at the graveside. And, as you might remember, the cold snap had already come by last Saturday. In fact, it was so cold the John Hyson Reneker Post 494 of Douds even asked if they could do the military rites before the service. Not even those hearty old veterans wanted to be out there in the cold any longer than they had to be.

Anticipating this colder weather, the family asked that I keep the service brief. And even though we didn’t do the full-blown service, and even though I kept the homily on the shorter side, the chill still crept in. Even that little tent they put up to keep out the elements didn’t do much good.

About halfway through our little abbreviated service, I could feel cold set into the tips of my fingers. And by the way everyone was shifting in their seats, I could also tell that thin sheet they drape over the metal folding chairs wasn’t insulating anyone’s behinds anymore, either. And it was then that I realized another message was being delivered there at that chilly graveside.

The cruel oppressor WASN’T even good enough to let us lay this beloved woman to rest without accosting us! As solemn words were said over saint Mary, this world’s tyrant RAGED. As the wind whipped around us, that old satanic foe pointed to the casket and said, “Take a look. I won. And I win every time, too. Give up. Come out, and make your peace with me.”

As I said, the military rites were already over. So the service didn’t end with the trumpet. It ended with something more like a whimper. “Now, let us go in peace,” I said anticlimactically. 

Before I could make my way out of that flimsy blue tent, though, Mary’s daughter struggled to her feet. “Do you mind if I say something,” she asked. All the while, her son was trying to get her to take her cane. “Of course,” I replied. 

“I was widowed when I was 65,” she told the twenty or so of us gathered there. “Luckily, cemeteries have never bothered me,” she said. “This feels like home to me,” she added. Then, gesturing to the headstones at her feet, she said, “This is where my mom and dad are.”

But then she became self-conscious. She was clearly trying to figure out what to say next. At a loss, she uttered, “I’m so thankful for the promise of everlasting life.” *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

And although her words were barely more than a whisper, they rang out louder than those howling winds. 

…It doesn’t have to be a funeral, though. Does it? That unholy triumvirate of Sin, Death, and the Devil gives that blasphemous sermon of theirs more often than not. Don’t they?

They give this sermon when the news gets on top of you. They give this sermon when you stand up, and that ache in your knees reminds you, you aren’t as young as you used to be. They give this sermon when you look at your loved ones and are reminded they’re NOT as young as they used to be, either. 

They give this godawful sermon when you can’t catch a break. And they give this wretched sermon when your kith and kin can’t catch a break themselves.

Why they even give this sermon when everything’s going just fine. You can be going about your business when, out of nowhere, some old worry will come over you. It can be a perfectly ordinary day when, for no reason whatsoever, some blue feeling will sink its hooks into you. 

Truthfully, the treacherous trio never stops giving their unholy homily. Do they?  Honestly, every time we drag ourselves through these doors, we come in from a storm of being bombarded with their sacrilegious sermons. 

In fact, they might even be babbling one of their miserable messages in your ear right now.

*Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

So listen up! I’m going to let you in on a little secret, the enemy ONLY has one speech! That’s why they’re constantly giving it! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

And you already know just how that so-called sermon goes. Don’t you? It goes like this: “That’s just the way it is. Get used to it. Give up.” 

*Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

So let me give you an earful of something else! Something ancient and yet always new! A something that’s really a someone, Jesus! Jesus, THE Word made flesh! Jesus, the Christ! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

Hear this: Christ, the king, comes to break that old rod of the cruel oppressor for you TODAY. No, wait! That’s putting it too mildly! Sorry, Luther. As Isaiah foretold, Christ comes to bend that worn-out weapon of fear and doubt to his purposes! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

Like the sword beaten to a plowshare, Christ comes to forge FAITH itself out of the enemy’s weaponry! Upon the cross, Christ took the old fiend’s instrument and made it into His means of redemption AND eternal life, too! Upon His cross-shaped anvil, Christ forged Sin and Death into the measure of his enduring, unending, and undying love! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

…If there’s a lesson in today’s Scripture, it’s to do like King Hezekiah. After all, on account of your baptism, you ARE part of that royal priesthood! A lord over all, as Luther put it. *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

That means the adversary has it out for you! And he won’t think twice about sending that old Rabshakeh your way to try and cow you, either. And let’s be honest, WE tremble, NOT unmoved we stand.

So when, NOT if, WHEN that happens, what you need to do is get yourself into the house of the Lord. 

And guess what? You’ve ALREADY done that! You’re RIGHT where you need to be today! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

That means all that’s left is THIS: *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* Thus says the Lord: Do not be afraid! Do not be afraid because of the words that you have heard. Do not be afraid because the Lord himself, Christ, THE king, has put a spirit into the enemy. The Lord has done this SO that the old foe would return to his own land and fall by his own sword there. *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

Christ, by his descent to hell, has crossed into the enemy’s territory! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

And there he sabotaged that old cuss! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

Christ took the enemy’s weapons and used them against the enemy! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

Christ has bound the strong man with his own chains! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

Christ, by his incarnation, has become the enemy’s enemy! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

Christ, by his atonement, has sinned against Sin itself! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

Christ, by his death, has murdered of Death! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

And Christ, by his resurrection, has become the Devil’s devil! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

And he’s done all this for you! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

For you.

…From now on, when you see the debris of Sin and Death, you’re not seeing evidence of the enemy’s victory. *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

No, on the contrary, you’re seeing just how Christ, the king, and even better ironsmith, has forged SALVATION for you! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

You’re seeing just how far, and wide, and deep Christ’s victory goes for you! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

The cross is what the sword that’s been BEATEN into a plowshare finally looks like! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

And while Christ may be the first fruits of this harvest, *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* he’s most certainly not the last! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.* 

No, good king that he is, *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* Christ comes to give you the spoils of his holy and righteous war that ends them all once and for all! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil.*

And so, *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* Carol, get ready! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* And so, *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* the rest of you, open your hymnals to hymn 504, A Mighty Fortress! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* And so! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* And so, seeing as even right now, Christ is forging HIS triumph out of the very tools of Sin, Death, and the Devil, *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* let us RAISE our voices *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* and join that great commotion of Christ, our king’s *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil* great VICTORY! *Strike ball-peen hammer against anvil*

A Mighty Fortress! ~ELW 504