3rd Sunday in Advent   

December 15, 2013

Psalm 24

In Nomine Jesu

This is David’s psalm for Advent. Tradition has it that it was composed at a time when the Ark of the Covenant was taken by the Israelites into battle to ensure victory. Returning with the spoils of war, rejoicing with the Lord of hosts, the Israelites returned the ark to Mount Zion. Thus, this psalm is a processional psalm, one that celebrates the entrance of God’s people into His holy hill. Psalm 24 reminds us that our procession—the long, difficult, wearisome and self-denying path to Zion—is impossible. Without the King of glory we will never be glorified.  With our heart and hands, as black and unclean as the coal in our shoe-shaped stockings is, we will never arrive on that celestial mountain, that towering city of light. Unless that is, we are received by the King of glory made un-glorified in His ascension of the hill of Golgotha that brought death to Him, yet light and life to the world.    

To our complete bewilderment, this King of glory did this gracious work in the beginning. Long before the foundations of the world were laid, before man dwelt on the earth, this King of glory laid a fleshy and forgiving foundation for you [Revelation 13:8]. Long before you could ever create, you were created. Long before you could ever think of yourself, you were thought of.  Long before you could ever love, you were loved. The earth is the result of the Lord’s breath of life. The earth is the Lord’s gift to you. You, along with creation, are the fullness of His life and love.  Routinely we forget this. We call ourselves landlords. We throw down our gavels of judgment in seeming superiority. We try and call “shotgun” when it comes to the Father’s right hand. But the truth is: every inch of the earth, all flesh that dwells upon it, is the Lord’s. Every creature, every atom and cell, everything existed in the infinite mind and will of the Triune God. Before all things, was Him who is above all things. Before all, was I AM, and when “He spoke, it came to be. He commanded, and it stood firm” [Psalm 33:9]. No amount of self-assertion can change this reality. He is the Creator, we are the creature. He is the Builder we are the clay. He is the Lord, we are His subjects. In our haste to take for ourselves that which was not ours, nor given us, we became destined for the dust of the earth. This propels us toward a sincere watchfulness and knowledge of the King of glory whose advent salvation is coming, is strong and mighty, and whose life forgives our many sins. On the last day, at His final advent, He shall raise our broken and lifeless clay anew in the city of eternal life that dwells on His new and holy hill.  

Who is worthy to meet this coming King of glory? Who may ascend to His holy habitation? Who is fit for such honor? Who is worthy of such pure and holy fellowship with the Triune God? No one is. No one is worthy. We may think we are. We may like to believe we have done enough to stand in the presence of the holy King, but we have not. We are habitually told by our culture, society, by chiseled men in white t-shirts and jeans that we are just perfect, peachy, and pure, simply by being us. Nothing is wrong. All are to love us because we are just that great. It’s all very holly jolly, “me.” Yet our hands and heart, our Lord, tells quite a different story. Conceived in sin, born dead in sin, an enemy of God, without true fear, love, and trust, that is the legacy that man leaves, that is his final will and testament. In the final revelation of our Lord, St. John desperately looks around trying to find someone worthy to open the scrolls that will bring an end to sin and death. No one is found. Not in heaven, or on earth or under the earth. He weeps loudly because all have the blood of vengeance on their hands, all hearts are darkened with sinister thoughts of evil, hatred, and wickedness, all have failed miserably [Revelation 5:3]. It should come as no surprise to you that you cannot stand holy in the holy places of God. Why your knees buckle, your heart sinks, your head droops in shame and no amount of self-bathing can make your feet holy to stand on sacred ground. You have lifted up your souls to false gods and false beliefs, believing the lie because it’s sweet at first, but it’s after taste is only bitterness and death.     

The will and testament of the King of glory is despite your corruption, sin and death, He is working glory and new life for you. His blessing is His blood. His blessing is His death. His blessing is His seeking you’re bowed down and fallen face. His blessing is lifting up your fallen face to see in faith and in hope the glory that awaits you. This is why David calls upon the gates themselves to open up and let the King of glory come in. Yet this King of glory, His salvific presence is found in a little six-foot box, known as the Ark of the Covenant. Yet that little Ark was sufficient for the Lord, but foolishness to the eyes of man. Before the beginning and in the beginning the ark of new life would be the manger of new born light, God becoming flesh for you, nestled in a little crèche. “Christ opened heaven for us in the manhood he assumed” [St. Irenaeus]. The ancient doors once closed for all ages now opened by the blood of the King calls us to walk and process in this very blood that has existed before all things, yet for the life of all things. The death of this King, the blood of this King, the resurrection of this King, the ascension of this King has flung wide open gates of eternity.

Beloved, as Advent gives way to Christmas, be mindful that this King of glory did not enter in from the sky above, but from below, in the flesh of a poor and lowly maiden. That night when God was born by the flesh of Mary, the celestial hosts of angels couldn’t contain themselves. Now consider what awaits you in the advent of our King of glory after His triumph over sin and death was won. Consider the gates of heaven, the walls crowded with hosts of angels, as the greater David rode up to the gates, with the crushed head of the serpent in His hands, the scars of His battle evident for all to see, the key that flung wide the eternal gates once shut. Is this not an occasion to lift up your heads in joy and exultation? Is this not an occasion to sing in adoration to the infinite, almighty, and eternal God who became flesh to join Himself to you, to cleanse your hands and give you a pure heart by the blood of His cross? This liturgy therefore is the glue by which we confess aright the Word made flesh, where sin is confessed, where absolution is spoken, where the King mighty in battle has done great things for us, and we are the recipient of His spoils. Beloved, “weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals” [Revelation 5:5]. Jesus Christ is the Lord God of hosts. His is our leader and we take our place in Him, His power made perfect in weakness and His might displayed in the wounds that bears. Through Him we join in the victory of the prince of darkness who can have no part in the glory we shall all share. The King of glory restores the innocency of life, and we ascend in Him to the eternal hill of everlasting peace and joy.

You, Christ, are King of glory, the everlasting Son,

Yet You, with boundless love, sought to rescue you everyone

You laid aside Your glory, were born of virgin’s womb

Then by Your resurrection You won for us reprieve

You opened heaven’s kingdom to all who would believe [LSB 941:3].       

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