Ad Te Levavi (Advent 1)

Ad Te Levavi (Advent 1) – December 1, 2024

Psalm 25; Jeremiah 23:5-8; Romans 13:8-14

St. Matthew 21:1-9

In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The shape and flow of the Church Year has been handed down to us by our forefathers in the faith. It was built up over a few centuries and has endured in the majority of Christendom ever since. It was created for our use and is instructive to our faith. The year ends by focusing on the last things, when Christ reveals Himself on the last day and gathers all the faithful to Himself for all eternity. The year begins as Christ rides into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, coming to His people in the Holy City to die for your sins and rise for your justification.

Even as we mark today as the beginning of a new year, it is part of a cycle that will last until that last day. “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease.”[1] Even the secular calendar reflects this cyclical nature God has molded into creation. In some ways, January 1^st seems arbitrary. January 1^st does not mark the beginning of winter. If we didn’t call it “New Year’s Day,” we would hardly notice the change. But at the same time, we hang new calendars, make resolutions, and rewrite the date on checks until our muscles catch up with our minds in realizing it is a new year.

So too, as the Church calendar turns over, we flow from the coming of Christ in glory to His coming in humility, riding on a donkey into Jerusalem. St. Matthew notes that there were two animals—the mother donkey and her colt. One is old and one is new. He also notes that as Christ enters Jerusalem, He is surrounded by a crowd—those who go before and those who come after. In both the animals and the crowd, we see a picture of the Holy Scriptures, both the Old and New Testaments. At the center of these Testaments, we find the King of glory, the Son of David, the One who comes in the name of the Lord.

From this, we see that Christ is truly at the center of the Old and New Testaments. Apart from faith in Jesus Christ, the Scriptures are a closed book. Sure, you can derive facts of history from these pages, but the meaning is obscure. The Pharisees, and those like them, who had the words of the Old Testament but lacked faith, are told by Christ, ‘you know not the Scriptures nor the power of God.”[2] The person and work of Christ sit at the center of the Holy Scriptures. He is the key to understanding every verse from “In the beginning” to “Amen.”[3]

And which work of Christ sits at the center of those Scriptures? His sacrifice on the cross. He is the branch of righteousness, our righteousness, that must be tossed on the fires of hell that we would be spared.[4]

But what good would that sacrifice be if it was only a historic event? If Christ rode only, or even primarily, with the crowd that follows behind? It would be for your ultimate benefit. It would mean that some day, in the far future, you would be resurrected and be with Christ for eternity. That is certainly our hope, our salvation. But what about when the diagnosis comes? Or the child in the womb is found without heartbeat? Or the cares of this life begin to weigh you down such that getting out of bed takes more effort than you can muster? What then? If Christ rode into Jerusalem to die and rise but then left His people alone, He would be a tyrant. He would be an absent Father. He would be the watchmaker God, who creates the universe, sets it in motion, then sits back and lets the world play out as it will.

No, no. It is for this reason that He is the One who comes in the Name of the Lord. He is not the One who came in the Name of the Lord. He comes. He comes to you in His Holy Word. He comes to you in Holy Baptism. What looks to our eyes as water is a miracle of God, attended by the Holy Trinity. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit gather around each font every time a beloved child is Baptized. He comes in the Holy Supper. There, He comes physically to you. He is seated on the paten and riding in the chalice. Our eyes see bread and wine, but our faith sees the very body that rode on the donkey, was crucified and was raised. He comes to you every day, as you sleep, as you wake, as you walk, as you talk, as you serve your neighbor, and as you rest in Him and His gifts.

The Baptized child of God is never alone. The communicant Christian receives His body and blood to the strengthening of body and soul. He is the One who goes with you and will never leave you nor forsake you.[5] Christ’s ascension does not mark His absence from His people but His presence. He is with you always, even to the end of the age.[6]

In this knowledge, and in this comfort, in His presence, we can face the diagnosis, the loss, the depression. We can turn toward the world and know that “neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor power, no things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”[7]

What, then, are we to do on this New Year’s Day? We revel in the presence of the Christ who comes to us and we prepare for His glorious return. How do we prepare? With prayer, fasting, and repentance. But not as work or slavish demands. We prepare with joy and in gladness. “To You, O Lord, I life up my soul. O my God, in You I trust; let me not be put to shame. Let not my enemies exult over me. Indeed, none who wait for You shall be put to shame.”[8]

In + Jesus’ name. Amen.

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[1] Genesis 8:22.

[2] St. Matthew 22:29.

[3] Genesis 1:1; Revelation 22:21.

[4] Jeremiah 23:5, 6.

[5] Deuteronomy 31:6.

[6] St. Matthew 28:20.

[7] Romans 8:38-39.

[8] Psalm 25:1-3a.