Twenty years ago today, we buried my mother, Susan Peperkorn, née Troy. She died on January 10, 2005. It was simultaneously sudden (likely brain aneurism) and expected (melanoma cancer). She was fifty-seven at the time and had been fighting cancer in various ways for at least ten years.
My family was in a very different place at that time. I was thirty-four, and we had two young girls while we lived in Kenosha, Wisconsin. None of my siblings were married yet, and my youngest sister was still in high school. It seems like a thousand years ago. But also just yesterday.
At this point, all of my siblings are married, and there are eleven grandchildren spread over four states. Our family continues to grow and be blessed.
This day twenty years ago was a turning point, though. It was a point when death became real in a way that hadn’t happened before. Grief became more visceral, more a part of me, and less what other people dealt with. I’ve never been an overly “emotive” person, but I am certainly much more so now than I was before.
Just as death became real, so, too, did resurrection and holy baptism. Through a series of events I won’t recount now, I ended up preaching for Mom’s funeral. The text was the Baptism of our Lord from St. Matthew, chapter three. In the center of that, too, is Paul’s wonderful words from Romans six:
“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.”
Romans 6:3-11 ESV
My teacher and now colleague, Cameron MacKenzie, had a wonderful sermon baptism today in chapel. He reminded us that God and His gifts are for all nations, and that means everyone.
Baptism ties us to Jesus’ death AND resurrection. There is no resurrection without dying. My mother died in her baptism many years before. Her death and loss on this earth is not the death that matters. What matters is that she died in Christ, and because of that, she will rise again at the Last Day. That is where our hope lies.
The following is the sermon I preached for my daughter, Renata Peperkorn’s installation as Kantor at Trinity Lutheran Church in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. I am deeply thankful and honored to be able to preach for this wonderful, joyous event. What a gift! Below you will find a link to the YouTube of the service, including the sermon. You will also find a link to a short post that Renata made on Facebook about the music she played in the service. -TAP
Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ. —Ephesians 5:15-21 ESV
St. Paul was no stranger to the suffering and hardship we live under here on earth. He recognized the futile, empty ways that the world would have us live in, ways that would choke the very life out of us. We are surrounded by it on every side. God gives us the fulness of life in His Son, and we cast it aside for fleeting pleasures and empty promises that would have us give up our very souls for one more hit, one more distraction, one more stumble on the road to perdition.
It does not matter if your vice is social media or gossip, alcohol or sports drinks, lust or gluttony. Whatever the temptation might be for you, know that Satan seeks to draw you away from the Living Bread who gives His life for the world. We are, in so many ways, fools who have surrounded ourselves with the very things that would destroy us, thinking that we are stronger than all the Christians who have gone before. St. Paul is right. Truly, the days are evil.
So look carefully how you walk, St. Paul says, not as unwise but as wise. Be filled with the Holy Spirit, “…addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart.” St. Paul knows something that the world has forgotten. St. Paul knows that what drives away the devil, what gives life and joy, what makes sense in a world gone mad, what does all these things is music that carries the Word of God.
When Moses parted the Red Sea and brought the people of Israel through on dry land, they sang.
When Deborah and Barak defeated the forces of Canaan, they sang.
When David calmed the troubled heart of Saul, he sang.
When David repented of his great sin and shame, he sang.
When Hezekiah restored the true worship of Yahweh in the Temple, they sang.
When Job was about to perish, he sang.
In times of joy and sorrow, war and peace, plenty and famine, the people of God sang.
When they were rounded up like cattle and carried off to Babylon, they sang.
When they returned to Zion, and the Lord restored them, they sang.
And who can forget the great songs of our wondrous Messiah?
When the angel announced the coming of John the Baptist, Zechariah sang.
When John the Baptist leapt in his mother Elizabeth’s womb, Mary sang.
When the Savior of the world was born, the angels of heaven sang.
When Jesus was presented in the Temple, Simeon sang.
When the children of Zion saw the Lord was in their midst, they sang.
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! But such singing is not only joy. It is also sorrow, comfort, and more than our hearts can ever express.
When Hannah learned she was no longer barren, she sang.
When the Exiles wept at the loss of their homeland, they sang.
When the disciples went to the Mount of Olives with Jesus, they sang.
When Jesus Himself was on the cross and dying, he sang.
At the very culmination of the ages, when the world ends and the new creation begins, heaven and earth will sing together, Worthy is the Lamb Who Was Slain.
For this reason, Martin Luther once said, “Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in this world.” Or, as hymnwriter Martin Franzmann put it, “Theology must sing!” Music sanctifies our lives so that even when we suffer, we know that we never do so alone, for Christ and His holy Church are with us all the way.
As a pastor for many decades, I can attest to how the Word of God, carried along by the music of the Church, has shaped the piety and faith of generations. When the best and noblest of music is taught and fostered in the Church, faith grows where it is planted, sustains during times of drought and hardship, and bears us home to the bosom of Abraham (LSB 708:3).
I can remember singing Lord, Now Lettest Thou Thy Servant Depart in Peace at the bedside of more saints than I can count. And those words brought comfort and hope to those who grieved when no mere words could possibly break through. Music brights to light the heart’s need like nothing else can.
I can remember singing O God, O Lord of Heaven and Earth, at the very first Higher Things conference before your Kantor was even born. We were told that high schoolers can’t sing hard music. Bah. Watch them. Some of those same youth are now husbands and wives, pastors and teachers in our churches. I’ve talked to them.
I remember singing Behold a Host Arrayed in White with 98-year-old Linda Nergaard. She couldn’t have weighed 80 pounds sopping wet, and she would wander the hallways of her nursing home, so I had to always go hunt for her. I would start the hymn, and she would sing along in Norweigan. It may not have been the most beautiful harmony, and yet strangely, it was. We sang it at her funeral and many others.
I remember singing God’s Own Child, I Gladly Say It when a young boy in a wheelchair died. His pastor, well, one of YOUR pastors, preached that death cannot end our sadness, for we are baptized into Christ.
We could bring these to mind all day long. Every pastor could tell you stories like this. Get Pastor Berg started, and you’ll probably never get him to stop. But none of this is possible without churches like Trinity, Messiah, Holy Cross, Lamb of God, St. Paul’s, or whomever it may be. None of these would happen without those churches teaching the faith through the church’s song.
It takes work. It takes dedication. It takes patience. It takes starting with I am Jesus’ Little Lamb with the little ones and working your way up as they grow. It takes a congregation that is willing to let the little children come, for of such is the kingdom of God. If they do not learn it when they are young, they will not remember it when they can’t even remember their own name. It means teaching hymns they will grow into their whole life long, not just ditties they will grow out of.
Today Trinity installs a new Kantor. Kantor is just a $.53 word that means singer. A Kantor leads the church’s song. It doesn’t matter if it’s with a voice teaching the little ones or a mighty organ carrying our song of praise, it is still the song of the Lamb who died and rose again and now lives forevermore.
So welcome your new Kantor, the one who will lead you in song. I may be a little biased, but take care of her. You have a long line of musicians and kantors in this holy place, and she is honored to be in your midst. It is a testament to the work that God does here, nurturing and growing the faith of the people of God.
The world is evil, but you are wise. “…address(ing) one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart.”For in this Lord lies your salvation.
[One of the practices at Concordia Theological Seminary is having a professor preach through one of the Passion accounts Monday through Wednesday of this week. This year it is my turn. Here is homily number one. I have included a link to the chapel service at the bottom of the post. -TAP]
Dr. Todd A. Peperkorn Kramer Chapel April 11, 2022 Monday of Holy Week Matthew 26:1-56
“THE SETUP”
Jesus got it.
The chief priests and the elders of the people got it.
The woman got it.
Judas got it.
The Father got it.
Even the soldiers got it.
Everyone, it seems, knew what was going to happen. It was a setup. Jesus Christ, the Son of Man, was going to die. There were some who wanted it to happen, who thought they could even make it happen. There were some, especially the woman here, who saw it coming and could do nothing but prepare Him before burial. Jesus saw it coming, “You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be delivered up to be crucified.” (Matthew 26:2) Certainly the Father knew it was coming, although His silence in the Garden is, well, troubling. They didn’t all know WHY it was coming, Jesus’ death, but they all knew THAT it was going.
All of them, that is, but the disciples.
Jesus had been preparing them for three years on what was to happen, that the Son of Man would be betrayed into the hands of sinners, would die, and on the third day would rise again from the dead. This should not be a surprise.
Truth be told, this had been foretold from the beginning. The serpents head would be crushed. The Ram would be sacrificed so that Isaac would live. The blood would go on the doorposts, and the Lamb would be eaten in haste. Israel has its Rock, its bronze serpent, its Manna, its substitute. God’s people live by the death of His Son. It has always been so, and now that great sacrifice for the sins of the people comes into sharp focus.
Jesus is so clear in purpose that when they gather to recline at table, they still recline. This IS my body. THIS IS MY BLOOD OF THE COVENANT, WHICH IS POURED OUT FOR MANY FOR THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS. It is as if it is a done deal for Jesus. All that is left is the dying and rising. The blood marks your door, faith points to it, and death passes o’er.
But the disciples still don’t get it. ONE OF YOU WILL BETRAY ME, Jesus says, and they go IS IT I, LORD? Surely not I! We have followed you for years. We are the good ones. We are the righteous ones. We are the ones who have it together. Right Lord, right?
But lest we be unclear, Jesus speaks to you as much as He did to them. You have betrayed Him as much as Judas. You have plotted to have your own way as much as the schemers in the San Hedron. You are as clueless as the disciples. You are as arrogant as Peter. The kiss of Judas is on your lips, and mine.
But for all their planning and plotting and scheming and fear and unbelief and violence and anger, it was a setup, but not by them. It was a setup by the Father. Our Lord’s passion and death is setup, so that you would live, not die. Jesus’ blood is poured out for you. It has been setup from before the foundation of the world. The flock will be scattered, but He will then gather them together under His wings.
God’s setup is for you. Jesus will drink the cup of suffering which is the will of the Father. He will be struck so that you might be healed. He will suffer abandonment and loss, so that you may rest in His gracious presence forever. He will endure the very curse of God, so that you may receive the blessing forever.
Lord have mercy upon us forevermore. In the name of Jesus. Amen.
Today is the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordination into the Office of the Holy Ministry.
This trip began as odd as one would expect. My colleague, Scott Stiegemeyer, and I were serving as admission counselors at Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne. It was just a few short months since Dean Wenthe was elected president. It marked the end of the so-called Babylonian Captivity of the seminary (1989-1996), and the beginning of a new era of renewal in the Gospel. CTWFW was desperate to get its recruitment back on track after several years of much smaller classes. Controversy is never good for the health of an institution, even if sometimes it is painfully necessary. Scott and I were both planning on doing STM work (he had already done so for a year), and so agreed to see what we could do to be of service.
It took about six months for all of the paperwork and stuff to get figured out before we were actually called. So in what I believe is the only instance of this happening in the LCMS until that time, we were ordained into the Office of Recruiting and Admissions. The service was in Kramer Chapel, and was comprised basically of the faculty, my pastor (Richard Radtke), and Scott’s pastor (Peter Ledic).
I remember quite vividly having a conversation with Prof. Kurt Marquart about what it meant to be ordained into this work, plus having a contract, but not really having an altar in any meaningful way. “Sometimes the church engages in felicitous inconsistencies,” he said while paraphrasing Pieper.
Since that time I’ve been blessed to serve two amazing congregations (Messiah in Kenosha, Wisconsin, and Holy Cross in Rocklin, California), We went through 9/11 and the Yankee Stadium debacle. I ended up suffering from major clinical depression, becoming suicidal, and going on disability for a year. My wife, Kathryn, and I have had four children, with two more in the bosom of Abraham. We spent the last ten years in Northern California, learning about being confessional Lutherans in a post-Christian society, and serving with some of the most amazing people anywhere. I also did a DMIN in preaching at the Aquinas Institute of Theology in St. Louis.
The past six months has brought us back to Fort Wayne, where I am now teaching pastoral counseling, field education, and homiletics, and also serving as the director of vicarage. It has allowed me to serve students and help prepare the next generation of pastors. So in some ways I guess I’ve ended up back right where I started.
My colleague, Scott, has served two parishes, been back at CTSFW in admissions, and is now teaching as Concordia University Irvine. One could never hope for a better friend or colleague in the Office.
What will the next twenty-five years bring? I don’t know. What I do know is that serving as a pastor is both cross and blessing. But it is Christ’s office, not mine. We are but unworthy servants.
Go and thank your pastor sometime. Hold him up. Share all good things with your teachers. And rejoice that the Lord of the Church uses such earthen vessels to bring about His holy purposes.
So today’s research has led me to Effort-Reward Imbalance theory, which is a model for predicting the impact of high-effort and low-reward tasks have on people. It was originally designed with teachers in mind (sometimes called an ERI Questionnaire), it is a fascinating read of how as human beings if we have things that take a ton of work but seem to have little discernible benefit, this is hard on our emotional well-being.
Shocking, I know.
It lends itself very easily to clergy as well. I think it could to almost anyone in a service field where you are primarily dealing with people. It is very difficult for us as human beings to discern how the work we do actually affects other people. I think this may be why St. Paul exhorts students to share all good things with their teachers (Gal. 6). We as human beings need lots of positive feedback.
Enter in social media.
Now we have an artificial or at least superficial way of receiving positive feedback. But instead of giving us satisfaction for where God has placed us (vocation) and receiving help where God gives it, social media creates and addictive loop these little jabs of dopamine try to replace the “Well done, good and faithful servant,” that our Lord gives to us by His Word and spirit.
So here is my question for today: how do we truly encourage our pastors and teachers, build them up, and help them to rejoice that God uses them as instruments for His good and holy purposes?
For Further Reading:
Proeschold-Bell, RJ, A Miles, M Toth, C Adams, BW Smith, and D Toole. “Using Effort-Reward Imbalance Theory to Understand High Rates of Depression and Anxiety Among Clergy.” Journal of Primary Prevention 34, no. 6 (2013): 439–453.
