12-20-20 Rorate Coeli

Bible Text: John 1:19-28 | Preacher: Pastor Christian Preus | Series: Advent 2020 | The name of this Sunday, the Sunday right before Christmas, is Rorate Coeli. It’s a beautiful name, because it expresses exactly the significance of Christmas. Rorate coeli are the first words of our Introit in Latin, “Rain Down O heavens.” It‘s God’s command to Himself, to open heaven and rain down the Righteous One. This is exactly what we just confessed, “Who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven.” And the expression, as so often happens in poetry, paints a greater picture; it tells who the eternal Son is and why He comes down to earth. He is our righteousness. Like rain, he gives life, and refreshment, washes away the filth, and makes creation glad. And these words, “rorate coeli” are followed by the words, aperiatur terra – let the earth open and bring forth salvation. And this again beautifully tells us who this Righteous One is who comes from heaven. He comes forth also from the earth, as we confess every Sunday, “and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” These are the two natures in Christ. He’s God and Man, divine and human. Heaven did open and God came down; and earth brought him forth, born of a virgin, taking on our stuff, becoming a man, man to deliver. This is the incarnation, the great event of all history, where God joins his creation, joins the human race. This is the message of Christmas. And no disease, no unbelieving world, no political contrivance, nothing can dampen this Christmas truth, not for us who know not only that this is history, but that it is our history, and this Jesus is our Lord.

This is why John the Baptist won’t talk about anything else. What else is there to talk about in comparison to this? John’s answer to the question, Who are you? Seems ridiculous. He says, “I’m not the Christ.” If a guest came to church and you asked, “Hi there, and who are you?” And he answered, “I am not the Christ,” you’d be a bit put off, that’s strange stuff. But John’s point is never to bring attention to himself. That’s why the Holy Spirit says he is not simply denying here, but confessing: He did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” He finds the question, “Who are you?” offensive, or at least irrelevant. Who am I? I’m a sinner. And before I can tell you anything that matters at all about myself, I’ll need to tell you about the God who made me and gave me everything I have and blessed all my work, who covers all my failures and saves me from every evil. The God who rained down the Righteous One from heaven, who opened the earth to bring forth my salvation, who joined the human race to raise me to heavenly glory. John believes what Paul confesses: “for me to live is Christ,” “it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.” Christ is all in all. Where Christ is there is no sin, no guilt. Where Christ is and there only does it make sense to say, “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice!” Because Christ answers every fault, every sadness, every sin, and replaces them with Himself. So John wants to talk about Jesus before he’ll talk about himself.

In fact, John is perfectly fine reducing himself to his actions. He is a voice. He is a baptizer. His identity is so wrapped up in Christ, that he’ll only identify himself as the voice that confesses his Lord Jesus. It’s beautiful. It’s a sign of true Christian humility. And we know this of John, it’s his most laudable characteristic, his humility – He must increase; I must decrease, John will say of Jesus. If only we could have this humility! How easily we would forgive one another! How quickly we would pity those who sin against us instead of holding ceaseless grudges! How happy we would be to put the best construction on what our brothers and sisters do and say instead of gossiping about them. How much more eager we’d be to defend Christ and His Word and His Church than to defend ourselves and our pride. God grant it to us all for Jesus’ sake! Actually wanting ourselves to decrease, that is, all our pride that makes us envy and gossip, all our lust that dirties our minds, all the hate that ruins relationships, that these decrease, that the Holy Spirit would make us mourn them and see their worthlessness, and we would instead have the righteousness of Christ, first imputed to us freely by faith and then growing in us to love as Christ has loved. This is John’s great example of reducing ourselves and magnifying the Christ, and it’s the power of our Baptism.

And this means we never reduce Christ simply to what He does. Just as we wouldn’t do this for our mother. You don’t call your mother a dishwasher or a cooker or by whatever other things or jobs she might have, though of course we’re thankful for all she does, but we identify her first and foremost as mother, as mom, this is what defines her and me, not just what she does for me but the relationship that attains here, the love that stands here, because of which she does all she does. So with Christ, yes, we say what He does for us, we confess this: He has lived for me, suffered under Pontius Pilate for me, died for me, risen for me. But these are not things He does for us as some far-off benefactor, as some anonymous divine giver who just hated to see us suffer. No, but who IS HE? And the first thing we say about Jesus is who He is. He is my Lord. This Righteous One whom heaven rained down, true God begotten of his Father from eternity, this man born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord. This is our relationship. Before I was, He loved me. Before I could sense a thing, He made me the object of His affection. He came down to earth, He became my Brother, He became my Lord. That’s what Christmas means. This baby in the manger is my Lord. The eternal God wears flesh and blood and is nestled at the breast of his mother because He loves me so fiercely, and has from eternity, that He would join me on this earth and take all my miseries on Himself, and feel my human woe. And because this is so, He does everything for me. And this is my constant guarantee. Why else does He lie there in the manger, why else is the eternal Son of the Father a baby? He’s come to be my Lord. And so He’s conquered all my enemies, especially the sin in my own heart, and bled to forgive it, and given me His righteousness, so that I can stand in His Kingdom and before His Father justified. Because Jesus is my Lord and He loves me.

This is why John answers how he answers. Why then do you baptize if you are not the Christ nor Elijah nor the Prophet? John says, “I baptize with water. There stands one among you, whom you do not know, even the One who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” You see first that John won’t even claim his baptism for himself. I baptize with water, he says, but the power of baptism comes from the One who stands among you. The power of all John preaches, all I preach, all any pastor preaches, is Jesus, His Word, His lordship, His death and resurrection. And notice that John identifies this One not by what He does but by who He is. He is the One deserving of all honor and worship. The greatest prophet is not worthy to touch his foot. Because He’s God. And this God has feet and wears sandals. And He stands among them. He’s right there! How wonderful. And yet how sad. He’s standing there, among them, but they don’t know who He is. He’s come to be their Lord. But they won’t receive Him. They use the word Christ and ask about baptism, but they don’t recognize the Christ who literally stands among them. What irony!

And the same irony is with us today. Jesus stands among us now. He fills all things. But who knows him? How many millions in our country and across the world will celebrate Christmas, and so have this word Christ on their lips, yet not know Him? How many millions in our country complain about cancel culture and governors canceling Christmas, and yet are only upset because they want to have a party with family and friends and their government is telling them not to?

But Christmas can’t be canceled. Because Jesus does stand among them. And I don’t mean simply because He’s God and so He’s everywhere, though that’s certainly true. And I don’t mean simply in name, because Christ is on everyone’s lips every time they say Christmas. No, I mean He is literally and actually among them, even if they don’t know Him. Because He’s with His Church. He speaks here. He feeds His own with His body and blood. He fulfills His promise that He will be with us always even to the end of the age. Because He’s our Lord.

There’s no canceling Christmas. What, will they go back 2000 years and get rid of the baby Jesus? Herod tried and failed. Or will they go back into eternity and change the mind of God? No, Jesus is Lord, and the babe in the manger proves it. So the Church will preach Christ on Christmas and she will administer His body and blood. We sang in our Gradual, “The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” We call on Him today. We confess Him as John did. He stands among us and we know Him as our Lord. And as heaven once opened to rain down the Righteous One, so heaven opens now as He whose sandal strap we are unworthy to touch asserts Himself as our Lord and stirs up His power and comes to feed us with Himself, forgive us and guard and protect us, and keep us faithful to end, confessing Him as Lord, until we see Him in glory. Amen.

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