The Shepherd’s Voice – Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Tomah, WI

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church - Tomah, WI

Welcome to The Shepherd’s Voice, the podcast ministry of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church (LCMS) in Tomah, Wisconsin. Each episode shares Christ-centered preaching, Bible teaching, and encouragement for your walk of faith. Rooted in the historic Lutheran confession, we proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ crucified and risen for the forgiveness of sins. Whether you’re a lifelong Lutheran, exploring the Christian faith, or seeking hope in daily life, The Shepherd’s Voice offers clear Law and Gospel preaching, devotionals, and reflections grounded in God’s Word. Join us as we lift high the cross of Christ and connect listeners to the Shepherd who knows His sheep by name.

  1. 2d ago

    The Feast of All Saints | St. Matthew 5:1-12 | A Life Changing, Liminal Experience

    The Feast of All Saints November 1, 2026 St. Matthew 5:1-12     Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,   This morning’s Gospel comes from the well-known Sermon on the Mount. These first twelve verses of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’ words, are known as the beatitudes. A beatitude is a blessing.   With these beatitudes, these words of Jesus, we might be inclined to see them as a description of the Christian’s life in the present. I believe this is how we like to hear them, or how we have grown accustomed to hearing them, as a commentary on how to live the present life. However, if you reread the last verse of the gospel reading, you’ll see that these words also highlight how narrow the separation is between living today and every Christian’s future promise.   Jesus says, “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven.”   The Feast of All Saints often focuses us, the living, on the eternal reward in heaven. This day also gives the Church time to pause and remember those who have fallen asleep in Christ, especially throughout the past year, and who now enjoy the eternal reward of heaven.   In a few moments, we will continue the tradition in the Prayer of the Church by reading the names of those who have received the eternal reward of heaven and have passed from this veil of tears, the Church Militant, to the gladness of the Church Triumphant.   It’s a difficult thing, isn’t it, to hear the names of those who have gone before us, but it also reveals just how thin the line is between living among the militant and the rejoicing among the triumphant.   Truthfully, our whole lives traverse the boundary between life and death, whether at the font as you enter into the death and resurrection of Jesus, or at this altar as heaven comes to earth with the food and drink of eternal life, or as the casket of your loved one is brought forth to the foot of these steps.   And for this reason, every word read, spoken, and confessed in this sanctuary, whether on a Sunday morning, at a baptism, wedding, or at a funeral, must derive from the words and beatitudes of Jesus, so that you, the hearer, will receive the gift of eternal life He desires to give you when your last day on earth comes.   One author wrote regarding the use of words at the funeral, Words matter at funerals because a funeral is a liminal experience. You are bringing a family to the thin place where two realities intersect. One perfectly natural and appropriate way to speak of those realities – the communities of the living and the dead… another way, using perhaps even more important language for this transition, at least for believers, is this: the church militant and the church triumphant.   While “liminal experience” may not be part of our everyday vernacular, it describes a threshold between two realities—a point at which a person’s status changes. For example, when a teenager walks across the stage at high school graduation, we now call them an adult. That moment marks a liminal experience. Though it may seem exciting, such a change can also bring anxiety, uncertainty, shifts in relationships, the end of relationships, grief, and mourning.   We know other examples of liminal experiences well. A man and a woman enter a sanctuary to be married; they leave as one flesh. Their lives will never be the same.   A husband and wife go to the hospital to have a child; they drive home with extreme care, now carrying precious cargo strapped into a car seat.   A loved one’s funeral is also a liminal experience, because you, the living, leave as a changed person.   The author of the quote I read a moment ago calls funerals a liminal experience because, for some, it is the closest or only time a person will experience the crossover of heaven on earth, where the ordinary is stripped of its structure, and the most sublime heavenly experience approaches them in the Words they will hear from the Shepherd’s voice.   Have you considered how important the funeral service is in telling this story of the Christian, how one transfers from the Church militant to the Church triumphant?   The same author I mentioned a moment ago went on to recount an experience at the end of a friend’s father’s funeral that poignantly brings these points to a climax. He wrote, At the conclusion of the funeral of my best friend's father, a local pastor stood in the midst of the congregation and announced, “I move that we strike Ray's name from the membership roll. He has taken his membership to another, bigger congregation.” The motion was seconded and passed unanimously. Words are the means by which we bring this liminal experience into our shared reality. Words help us journey with the dead to their new community and then bring us back again to the land of the living.   It’s an interesting practice. While most congregations have kept membership books with each name written by hand, there has been a custom to remove the name from the side of the book containing the Church militant and, upon death, to write the name in the opposite portion of the book that contains the names of the Church triumphant, those who rest and rejoice with Jesus.   We don’t do this at Good Shepherd. But I do wonder, for the outsider, how they would respond to such a practice: calling the name of a deceased brother or sister in Christ, removing them from membership, and audibly transferring them to the Church triumphant at the end of a funeral?   How would this be received by an outsider? How would you receive it?   In a way, we already do this, though not as immediately. Each All Saints Day, we gather to give thanks for those who have gone before us, who have been examples in the faith, and whose lives show us how God has worked. We receive their names, toll the bell, and give thanks that they are now numbered among the ranks of heaven.   Outside the funeral, today is that liminal day when we remember that two realities exist here: heaven comes to earth, and the Church militant and triumphant meet here in this place, and around this rail.   Speaking the names of our deceased brothers and sisters in Christ aloud forms a ritual that brings us into the liminal experience between heaven and earth. While it may feel awkward or unnerving because of the deep grief we feel at the death of a loved one, the ritual of speaking the names of the deceased, the liturgy of a funeral, is meant to aid the Christian in processing their grief and sadness.   As a nineteenth-century author wrote, Death is a private affair. A funeral is a public occasion. Grief is borne by the immediate family and close friends, that little band of the bereaved clustered around the remains. The funeral provides the liturgy where, for a brief interval, grief can be contained while the final separation takes place. It employs a language, chiseled out over centuries, to comfort the grief-stricken where ordinary words fail. Ritual, mercifully, accommodates private grief and public sympathy. (Liam Swords)   I appreciate that last sentence, “Ritual, mercifully, accommodates private grief and public sympathy.”   And why does this matter? No one leaves a funeral as they arrived. Like any liminal experience, the funeral ritual publicly transfers the deceased from the Church Militant to the Church Triumphant and also changes you, who remain among the Church Militant.   You cross the sanctuary threshold and make your way to the grave as a changed person, because death has altered your relationships. Your steps are accompanied by anxiety, uncertainty, shifts in relationships, the ending of relationships, grief, and mourning.   So what does this mean for you?   Well, for you who continue to dwell here on earth, read the beatitudes in today’s Gospel and take them to heart. In a sense, verses 4-6 are for you,   “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”   “Blessed are the meek (the lowly and humble), for they shall inherit the earth.”   “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.”   In your sadness, God has not cast you aside; instead, He has made a promise to bless you: for those who mourn, who find themselves lowly and humbled, for those hungering and thirsting for the righteousness of God in their dark despair, He has you; God cares for you and will continue to provide for you throughout this life.   However, as you continue to live in the now and not yet, there will be sadness; you will be brought low, and you will continue to hunger for forgiveness in a sinful world.   But Jesus abides with you; His Word provides hope and assurance. He doesn’t leave you empty or wanting, which is why His words at the end of the Gospel give you promise and hope: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven.”   Each time you enter this sanctuary, you place your right foot before your left, expressing faith in Christ Jesus: faith that His Words are true and will not return empty. Though you mourn in this life, are brought low and humbled, and long for Him, He cares for you here in this place. He sustains you with His Word and feeds you at this rail, where the whole company of heaven, including the saints and angels, descends and gathers as you receive a foretaste of the joy and reward awaiting you in heaven.   And as you depart this rail, as you depart this sanctuary, you leave as a changed person because of this foretaste of heaven. In the Lord’s Supper, Christ takes your anxiety and uncertainty into Himself. You are reminded that even as your relationships on earth change over time, you are not alone, for you are bound to one another because you were united to Christ in Holy Baptism.   For your grief and mourning, God will wipe away your tears. When the last day comes, and you are brought from the Church Militant to the

  2. Oct 26

    The Festival of the Reformation | St. John 8:31-36 | Stop Focusing on Who You Aren't and Confess Who You Are!

    The Festival of the Reformation October 25, 2026 St. John 8:31-36   Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus,   Amid all the celebrations of the Reformation, have you ever paused to ask whether we’re celebrating who we are—or simply who we are not?   Sometimes I fear that, in observing the Reformation, we, as Lutherans, open ourselves to the attitude in the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector- you know the one…   Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’   Are we more likely to exalt ourselves like the Pharisee, to thank God we’re not those Roman Catholics, those Baptists, or name your denomination, than to simply utter the words of the dreaded Tax Collector, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” (St. Luke 18:10-14)   Sometimes we’re so focused on “Not” being someone else that we exalt ourselves into being who we shouldn’t be, and we miss being who we’re supposed to be.   We see this in children trying not to be like their parents; you know what I mean, trying not to adopt the habits we believe are unflattering and unhelpful. Yet all that “work” to avoid being like someone else often leads to a cycle of exhaustion and an internal struggle that brings fits of despair.   Lutherans can sometimes be like children, striving, arguing, and working hard not to be seen or considered someone other than themselves. The Lutheran Church, or the local congregation, can then become exhausted by insecurity and alienation from others, maybe even from your family, and adopt an “Us vs. Them” mentality.   And yet, it’s all this work, the going out of a Lutheran’s way to say, I’m not Roman Catholic, or I’m not this guy or that guy that binds them up, robs them of their freedom, the freedom of who they are and the peace they receive in Christ Jesus.   And here is a pivotal point of the Reformation: it wasn’t so much about Luther saying who he wasn’t as it was about him confessing who he was.   Remember, the Reformation was never about forming a new church; it was about being the Church Scripture calls Christians to be.   The “Re” in Reformation means to return, and “formation” means returning to the original form. Luther wanted the Church, the Roman Catholic Church, to return to its proper foundation: Scripture and the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.   For Luther, the book of Romans played a critical role in his understanding of the Christian faith and in his boldness in confessing it.   A key passage was Romans 1:16-17; St. Paul wrote, For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, “The righteous shall live by faith.”   Let’s parse these verses out for a moment.   “For I am not ashamed of the Gospel.”   Yet too often, the Lutheran, the Christian, walks through life ashamed of their faith and burdened by guilt about it, and this shame shows up not only in our words but also in our silence, our inability to confess the Gospel that dwells within us and fills us with faith. (2 Timothy 1:5)   Just examine your daily lives outside of Good Shepherd: how do you consciously exercise your faith?   But still, to understand “the Gospel as the power of God for salvation” is to focus less on your own works, how others see you, or what they think. Instead, it’s about rejoicing in the gift of God’s forgiveness. The joy of this gift, this forgiveness, is too great to keep to yourself, so confess and share it with others who may also come to this saving faith.   And it’s for this reason, “The righteous (you, are to) live by faith.”   The Gospel of Jesus Christ frees you from the tireless yoke of works righteousness, the belief that you must earn your salvation (forgiveness). Instead, the Gospel, in its proper place, points the Christian to the cross, where Jesus died for you, and to the words of Holy Scripture, which deliver forgiveness of sins and make you righteous on their own, so you can stand before God.   Martin Luther wrote regarding this passage from Romans, They (The Roman Catholic Church) had said: The righteousness of God, that is, the wrath of God. But as often as I (Luther) read this passage, I wished that God had never revealed the Gospel; for who could love a God who was angry, who judged and condemned people? This misunderstanding continued until, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, I finally examined more carefully the word of Habakkuk: ‘The just shall live by his faith’ (2:4). From this passage I concluded that life must be derived from faith.… Then the entire Holy Scripture became clear to me, and heaven itself was opened to me. Now we see this brilliant light very clearly, and we are privileged to enjoy it abundantly” (WLS § 2600).   These are not the words of an angry man or of someone focused on who he isn’t, but of a man who, for the first time, understood who He was—whose eyes the Holy Spirit had opened to the greatest news for mankind: that the gift of the Gospel delivers forgiveness, peace, and faith.   The righteous live by faith, and you are to live by it too: faith in Jesus Christ.   Sure, living by faith is not easy; it’s downright challenging, as the devil, the world, and your own sinful flesh desire to lead you away from Christ, whether it be through the idea that you can earn salvation, the forgiveness of sin, or eternal life, or to silence the confession of faith you have been given through the work of the Holy Spirit within you.   Living by faith isn’t easy. But it’s necessary.   As we rejoice at the baptism of Simeon and reflect on his name this morning, consider the old man who took the Christ child into his arms following the Christmas story, as He was presented in the temple. It was written that Simeon was waiting for the consolation of Israel, the salvation and forgiveness promised of old to arrive. He was told he would not see death until he saw the Christ.   But Simeon had to learn to be patient, to keep watch, and to pray for this day to arrive, and once it did, what did Simeon do? He broke forth in song, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word;   for my eyes have seen your salvation   that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,   a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (St. Luke 2:29-32)   What joy is this? What joy and jubilation does Simeon feel as he cradles the Savior of the world in his arms?   Again, Simeon’s words don’t focus on who he isn’t; they confess who Jesus is, why He came into this world, and who Simeon is because of that child: a forgiven and redeemed son of God.   Isn’t there more joy in confessing who you are than in fighting not to be someone else?   Remember this, because just as Simeon once took the Christ child into his arms, the Christ has now cradled baby Simeon in His arms. Likewise, He has taken you, bringing you all into His grave through His death on the cross, and has also raised you out of these waters to new life, to forgiveness of sin, and to faith in Him, a peace meant to abide with you as you traverse this life and to prepare you for the life to come.   As another Reformation Day comes and goes, let us focus less on who you are not and more on the gift of who you are: God’s baptized children, children of paradise. Is there anything more joyful than this? Let this be your confession of faith this day as you forever sing, “I am God’s Child, I Gladly Say, I am baptized into Christ.”   Yes, sing this, confess it, have faith, and be at peace. +INJ+   Rev. Noah J. Rogness Good Shepherd Lutheran Church Tomah, WI   The Sermons of Pastor Rogness can we found at www.RognessOnTap.com Learn more about Good Shepherd Lutheran Church at www.goodsheptomah.org

  3. Oct 19

    The Twentieth Sunday after Trinity | St. Matthew 22:1-14 | There's No Hiding Who You Are

    The Twentieth Sunday after Trinity October 18, 2026 St. Matthew 22:1-14     Weddings are joyous celebrations that bring together friends, family, and sometimes a community.   However, while weddings tend to focus on the bride and groom, today’s parable tells the story of two types of wedding guests: those invited but who don’t come, and those who do come but don’t attend the feast properly.   For those invited but who don’t come to the feast, it’s a total rejection of the invitation. Their conduct isn’t just rude to the servants who delivered the invitation; it’s vicious.   Jesus said, “They paid no attention and went off, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them.”   Today we get angry when people don’t respond to a simple dinner invitation, but these invited guests didn’t just fail to respond at first; some responded to the messengers with violence.   At first, it may not be clear, but hidden within the parable is the story of Israel being invited to the feast and rejecting the Lord’s invitation. The sad unfolding of the story of God’s people is that they not only give no attention to His Word and invitation to come to the wedding He is preparing, but they reject the messengers God has sent to call them into His presence; they kill the servants of the Lord, and they will also kill His Son, Jesus Christ, by crucifying Him on the cross.   The rejection of Israel still occurs today among God’s people; we see it not only in churches that have no respect for the Holy Scriptures, but even in churches such as Good Shepherd, when the sheep don’t like the words of God or when those words don’t align with how we desire to conduct our lives, so we are inclined to become angry and frustrated with the messengers God sends among us.   But today, let’s focus on the latter part of the parable: a guest arrives at the wedding feast without the appropriate attire—the wedding garment. At that time, wedding guests were expected to dress a certain way, wearing celebratory wedding garments, and if someone didn’t have the appropriate garments, the host would provide them.   Now, remember that a parable is often a story with a deeper meaning. Today, Jesus’ words tell the story of someone who doesn’t appear to be what or who they seem.   Life is full of people, places, and things that aren’t what they seem, each with its own hidden reality.   For instance, we all know that some people wear masks to hide who they truly are, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Some places aren’t as their names describe; Greenland isn’t green, and Iceland isn’t full of ice. Or even more simply, a firefly isn’t a fly; it’s a beetle. A shooting star isn’t a star but a meteorite; shortbread isn’t bread but a thick cookie. A lead pencil isn’t even lead; it’s graphite.   The philosopher Phaedrus wrote, “Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden.”   And this raises the question: are things what they always appear to be, especially in the Church? Or, more specifically, are people who they appear to be when they gather in the sanctuary of God’s church?   Or do you and others conceal who you truly are?   Reflecting on when the Lord sent Samuel to anoint scrawny David king over Israel, God said to Samuel in the Old Testament, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature… For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)   Honestly, this can be hard to hear; God knows your heart. God knows why you enter this sanctuary, whether to receive companionship or belonging, which can be a healthy second or third-order effect of the Church, or because “it’s just what you do?” You were raised to come to church, and over time the church has become more a place to gather and maintain membership, like a club or civic organization.   However, entering this sanctuary is more than mere membership; it’s entering the ongoing wedding feast of Christ and His Church in true faith.   And for this, today’s parable also helps us begin to understand what is known as the visible versus the invisible church on earth.   Here’s what we mean by this…   Everyone physically present in the sanctuary is a member of the visible church gathered around God’s Word and His sacraments; we know this because we can see one another with our eyes. But the parable also reveals that some who gather in the Lord’s sanctuary may not be true members of Christ Jesus’ church, the invisible church, because they don’t wear the appropriate clothing of faith. Instead, they come into this sanctuary merely because of tradition, the gift of earthly relationships they have formed, or, sadly, in some situations, for status within a community.   But the Church is more than this, and this is what today’s Gospel reading reveals.   So, what is required of you to faithfully be gathered in this place, in this wedding feast?   The true faith given in the waters of Holy Baptism calls you to return continually to the font, confess your sins, wear the garment of Holy Baptism each day, and exercise the faith that receives the forgiveness granted to you.   You see, the wedding garment that Christ, the King of the wedding feast, expects and demands you wear is what you received at baptism, often symbolized today by the white gown placed on a child. The true garment of faith is a gift God places upon you from above through His Word. However, if you fail to remain in this faith and do not exercise the faith spoken into your hearts by the Holy Spirit, you become the man in today’s parable, who snuck into the feast without the proper clothing: “[Bound] hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”   And here is why we cannot take the Christian faith for granted: it’s a matter of eternal life and death.   You cannot hide who you are; you cannot make yourself appear differently than who you truly are. Not before your Father in heaven. He is omniscient; He is all-knowing and sees the faithfulness of man’s heart, your heart.   So, what does this mean?   If you have found yourself gathering in the sanctuary of the Lord because it’s just what you do, or if you’ve been guilty of placing the earthly companionship of one another above the heavenly invitation of the Lord, or if you struggle or have wrestled with your faith, return to your Baptism, confess these challenges, ask for help, confess your sins, and put on the garment of salvation your Father in heaven wants to give you, because He desires not only that you come into this weekly wedding feast in faithfulness but also that you be with Him in the eternal feast that has no end.   In a way, while there is so much throughout this life, whether it be people, places, or things that appear to be something they aren’t, however, the Gospel this morning is about the Christian, you, being exactly who you are supposed to be, God’s child.   As you enter this sanctuary, remember who you are, remember your baptism, and exercise it through the confession of sin and faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus, and then have confidence not only for the troubles of each day, but for the day you are called to gather around the Lamb’s High Feast. +INJ+   Rev. Noah J. Rogness Good Shepherd Lutheran Church Tomah, WI   The Sermons of Pastor Rogness can we found at www.RognessOnTap.com Learn more about Good Shepherd Lutheran Church at www.goodsheptomah.org

  4. Oct 11

    The Nineteenth Sunday After Trinity | St. Matthew 9:1-8 | Be Courageous

    The Nineteenth Sunday After Trinity October 11, 2026 Text: Matthew 9:1-8     Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.   Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus,   Today’s Gospel is one of the most explicit texts you’ll hear about the forgiveness of sins.   The Christian Church is centered and grounded in forgiveness, secured for you by Jesus Christ upon the cross. From the cross, forgiveness of sins proceeds through the Church’s liturgy, including absolution, the Gospel, the Sermon, and the Lord’s Supper, and then flows into your lives, paths, and conversations you encounter every day and every week.   Yet this article of faith is one of the hardest for Christians to truly exercise in their lives. To forgive is often seen as a form of surrender; it’s the end of a battle and conflict, and it’s admitting a wrong, whether real or perceived. The old Adam residing in your hearts can’t afford this kind of humility before friends and foes. Thus, this hardness of heart paralyzes you and renders you immovable in your life and relationships.   In today’s Gospel, the paralytic is said to have been brought to Jesus by his friends. Those are some good friends. They cared for this man and brother. They wanted him to be healed again, to walk with them, to converse, and to be part of who they are as a community.    But as the friends bring the paralytic to Jesus, He says something odd, “Son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.” A better way to translate this pronouncement from Jesus may be, “Be courageous, child; your sins are forgiven.” It’s a nuance, but the courage needed for life is to face sorrow, hardship, broken relationships, and the like with confidence in God, remaining hopeful and courageous through the good and the bad of each day.   Jesus also says to you, as He did at the beginning of today’s service, “Be courageous, child, your sins are forgiven.” But like those gathered with the paralytic, that’s not what you genuinely want to hear. The friends brought the paralytic to Jesus for healing, and likewise, you want the challenges and tribulations of life removed from your path.   The person you struggle within the church, remove them! The child who struggles, who bullies others, send them away. The cloud of sadness that follows untimely deaths—well, just don’t let this happen to me.   Today, Jesus doesn’t treat the symptoms of paralysis in your life; he treats the cause – sin.   You see, the paralytic was healed, but there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t lose his ability to walk again. There’s no promise he wouldn’t face danger or trial. So Jesus tells him to be courageous – to face the days of his life and take comfort in what is eternal – the forgiveness of sins.   So, my friends, which is easier, “to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Arise and walk’?” Sure, at first, you might say that forgiving sins is the easier path. But you can’t necessarily see forgiveness, can you? You may know what’s in your heart, but can you see your brother or sister’s heart?   For the scribes gathered, they thought within their hearts that this Jesus was blaspheming God. Do you know why this whole interaction should scare you? Because Jesus likewise knows your thoughts and hearts and says, “Why do you think evil in your hearts?” He sees the paralysis of sin dwelling within you.   At this moment, Jesus reveals His omniscience in today’s Gospel. He sees beyond your external actions and knows your secret thoughts and words. He knows the deep waters of your heart and the evil that lies within, just as He knew the hearts of the Scribes.   Truthfully, we don’t want to face life’s darkness. We don’t want to confess what truly troubles us. We don’t want to reconcile with those brothers and sisters we genuinely loathe and despise. We don’t desire forgiveness; we simply want to be told, “Arise and walk.” We desire cures for the symptoms of life’s troubles, not the cause.    Reconciliation makes us uncomfortable and forces us to speak with one another. To say, “I’m sorry and I forgive you.” Yeah, no, thank you. Let’s just devise ways to coexist, tolerate one another, and keep the banter going for good measure.   Seriously, when was the last time you sat down with someone you disagreed with or had sinned against and walked through confession and absolution? When was the last time you spoke the tearfully freeing words to your greatest nemesis? We need to learn again how to say, I am sorry, and I forgive you – because it is life-giving, restoring, and eternal.   The healing and forgiveness of God did not remain in heaven but entered this world through the incarnation, taking the form of a man, the Father’s only begotten Son. He bore the world’s sin on the cross, and now, in the font, you have been united with Christ in death and resurrection. In the font of Holy Baptism, you have been made brothers and sisters. You are family. In the Epistle this morning, the Apostle Paul wrote, “put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Ephesians 4:22-24) After coming to the font, you are called to confess your sins and “put off your old self,” your pride, anger, and the secret motivations of your heart. But instead, you are called to go forth in “the likeness of God, in true righteousness and holiness.” In other words, having received the forgiveness of Christ Jesus, you are to be little Christs to your neighbors, to everyone you encounter – friend or foe. Don’t just walk past the font as an ornament within the church, but be reminded of who you are in Christ Jesus. Seek reconciliation throughout life. Be a friend and neighbor to one another, and carry those paralyzed by sin in prayer to God – that their hearts would be softened and moved to confess. Above all, be courageous throughout this life, for when you confess, you can be assured your sins are remembered no more. Life is full of adversity, periods of darkness, and unfortunate conflict. Do not permit the world to form you, but through confession and absolution, be continually renewed in Christ Jesus and His likeness – for on the last day He will return and say to you, “Arise and walk.” Come forth from the grave, for your faith has healed you. +INJ+ The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.    Rev. Noah J. Rogness Pastor, Good Shepherd Lutheran Church Tomah, WI    Good Shepherd Lutheran Church Website: www.goodsheptomah.org The Shepherd’s Voice Podcast: https://goodsheptomah.podbean.com/

  5. Oct 4

    The Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity | St. Matthew 22:34-46 | The Law also Teaches You How to Live

    The Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity October 4, 2026 St. Matthew 22:34-46     Before this morning’s Gospel reading, the Sadducees debated with Jesus about the resurrection. However, Jesus silenced their inquiry, and now the Pharisees have arrived to ask Jesus a question: “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?”   The text says these scholars ask this question to test Jesus, but it’s more than that; they desire to entrap Him. They want to take Jesus down. They want to silence Him. So these legal minds ask Jesus a question on the only topic they “think” they know: the Law of God, the commandments.   But for a moment, let’s take a step back and ask: what is a commandment?   In the most simplistic manner, a commandment is a word from God or God’s word.   And what is the purpose of these words? These words, these commandments, reveal God’s will for man. What man is to do. They provide order for the Christian life.   However, we are all like children, turning to one another and saying, “You can’t tell me what to do.” We’ve all said this at some point in our lives. Sometimes we say this not with our words, but with our silence, with a deaf ear, and with the actions we continue to do even after being told they are against God’s will and His commandments.   For instance, you encourage a child to come to the Divine Service, to hear God’s Word, receive His forgiveness, and be made ready for eternal life, but they just turn over in bed, pull the blanket over their heads, sleep in, and wait for you to return home in the early afternoon.   It’s a silent act by a child raised in the Christian faith who fails to keep the Third Commandment.   Or there’s the child of an aging parent who knows they need to call their mother or father, visit them, take them to a doctor’s appointment, spend time with them, love them, and cherish them, but instead they silence their parent’s call when it comes in and avoid their mother and father.   It’s a silent action of avoidance that fails to keep the Fourth Commandment.   There’s the couple who lives together without being married. Maybe a pastor told them to get hitched; maybe they haven’t, but they grew up in the church. They know God’s plan for marriage; they know that the union and fellowship of a man and a woman in one home is a foundational gift from God, not only for the family but also for society, and that it must not be abused or neglected. However, their failure to marry and their continued cohabitation brush aside the joys of marriage.   It’s a silent action by a man and a woman that fails to keep the Sixth Commandment.   But where does a person learn to break God’s Law in these ways?   At home, silent actions and examples are often shown to one another. The child learns most from what is done, not from what is said.    So ask yourself this question. What do the day-to-day actions in your home teach others about the faith that is within you? In other words, what silent aspects of life are confessing your faith, or lack thereof…   For instance, when someone comes to your home, do you invite them in? Do you expect them to remove their shoes, or do they keep them on? Do husband and wife serve one another, or is one expected to serve the other?   Are the toys scattered throughout the home, or do the parents get down on the ground to help teach the child how to put their toys away?   When the family sits down for a meal, do they quiet their voices, fold their hands, bow their heads, and pray, or do the conversations continue as if God hadn’t provided the food before them?   As the day comes to its close, does a parent or grandparent tuck in their little ones, sing a hymn, teach them to pray, and entrust their lives to God’s care? Or is the child simply sent off to bed and reminded to turn off the lights?   Within all of these situations I just brought up, we see unspoken commandments of a home, a way order is being instilled into the hearts and minds of those dwelling together, especially children.   And reflect on this. If the removal of shoes or the picking up of toys is as important in your home as it is in many, how much more important is the keeping of God’s Word, His Commandments, the way He orders your life, the way He wants you to walk throughout this life, so that you might inherit eternal life?   Just reflect on the words of the Old Testament reading from Deuteronomy, And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God require of you, but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments and statutes of the LORD, which I am commanding you today for your good? (Deuteronomy 10:12-13)   In order to walk in the ways of the Lord, Moses says that one must have a godly fear, that is, a sense of amazement and respect for God and His Word. This happens only when you know God’s will, found in His commandments, and put it into action.   That is, to learn to walk in His ways.   Too often, though, we know but don’t do.   We know and were taught the commandments in Sunday School, Confirmation Class, or the opening of Bible Class, but we don’t put them into action- not then, not now.   Our hearts are silent toward them, silent toward God’s Law.   However, some have summarized Martin Luther’s teachings on Law and Gospel this way: “The law can show you the way to go, but it can’t give your legs the strength to get there. Only God’s good news can do that.”   The idea here is that the Law reveals God’s will for you, showing how He wants you to come to Him and how He wants you to go to your neighbor in love. But you also need to let the Holy Spirit stir up the good news of Jesus Christ within you so you can listen, be forgiven, obey, walk in His ways, and put His love into action toward your neighbor.   Again, it’s not always our knowledge of God’s will that’s lacking; you’ve been taught; it’s the failure to live according to it, to put it into action.   And here lies the problem for the Pharisees in the Gospel this morning as they attempt to entrap Jesus when they ask, “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?”   One of the challenges for the Pharisees is that they have read and interpreted the Scriptures absent of mercy.   Through the lens they have developed for interpreting God’s law, they do not see mercy and love as they ought, and throughout Jesus’ engagements with the Pharisees, they have consistently attempted to challenge His authority and knowledge of the Scriptures.   But listen again to how Jesus responds; He says, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” (St. Matthew 22:37-40)   Upon these two commandments rests all the law and the Prophets…   Jesus says that everything that has been spoken up to this moment was to lead you into the way of love, for my Father, and for you, my neighbor.   But was that how the Pharisees interpreted the Law? Is that how you interpret the Ten Commandments?   Through a lens of love and mercy?   No, and this often comes from a narrow understanding of the Law.   Often, we only see the Law through what we call its second use, through the mirror that reveals our sin. But Lutherans see three ways the Law functions in and throughout our lives.   The first use is like a curb; the Law keeps us from going into the ditch.   As I mentioned a moment ago, the second use of the Law is to reveal our sin, as a mirror reflects your image.   But the third use of the Law is to guide you in the way of loving the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself.   We need to pay as much attention to the first and third uses of the Law as to the second, because all three functions lead us back to God and propel the Christian to action.   And here’s the thing: when a parent turns on the lights in their sleeping child's room and says, “Get up, we’re going to church,” that is love, because you want the child not only to learn about Jesus, but to receive His forgiveness.   Or when you pick up the phone, go and visit, or take an elderly parent to a doctor’s appointment, you teach the young not only to care for their elders but also to show love and mercy toward those who first loved you.   When a cohabiting couple stops masquerading as a couple and marries, they become an image of Christ and His Bride, the Church. Their sacrificial love for each other, and for those who witness it, strengthens the home, the church, and the community.   And yet, we struggle to do what is right and good; we know God’s Word, but we do not keep His Law and His Commands, and for this, our lives are not in the order they ought to be, but in chaos.   This is where the second use of the Law comes into play. It reveals what we try not to acknowledge: that we have sinned against God and our neighbor, and that we have not loved our Father in heaven as we ought, or our neighbor as ourselves.   But look to this cross, and you will see the fulfillment of the Law and all the words of the Prophets. You will see a Savior whose sacrifice kept the will of His Father perfectly, a love that performed the greatest act of mercy by taking the place of sinners, by taking your place upon the cross.   Here, love lives not only in word but in deed.   But now, having heard these words, you must also begin to put them into action. You must learn to truly love the Lord your God by examining yourself, your heart, and mind, confessing your sin, and seeking your Father’s forgiveness for how you have li

  6. Sep 27

    The Feast of St. Michael and All Angels (Observed) | St. Matthew 18:1-11 | The Protectors of God's Children

    The Feast of St. Michael and All Angels (Observed) St. Matthew 18:1-11 September 27, 2026   What images come to mind when you hear the word “angel"? Go ahead and take a moment to picture an angel in your mind.   I wonder what the angel you imagined looked like…   Was it cute? Was it a man, a woman, or a child? Did it have wings? Or a long robe? Did it hold a globe in your hands? Or a scepter? Or was it like those cherubs on the stamps that look like toddlers with no clothes? Those cherubs, actually called putti, symbolize death.   Some things just aren’t what you imagine, are they?   Truth be told, how we envision an angel has changed over the years. History has a way of altering our view of things, doesn’t it?   The way we view angels has changed for a few reasons: first, because angels are often unseen to the human eye, how should we imagine what God has hidden from our sight?   Second, our view of angels today is directly reflected in how they are depicted in art. Early art presented angels as masculine creatures, holding globes that represent their cosmic service to God as guardians of His children. The scepters that the angels held represented their divine authority, power, and roles as God’s messengers.   But over time, these images changed and softened, as many things in the world and the church have. Throughout the medieval period, artists began depicting angels more youthfully, with vibrant colors and majestic backgrounds. During the Renaissance, angels became more realistic and humanized; this is where our idea of cherubs and putti comes from. But then, in the Victorian era, the portrayal of angels became feminized. Modern and contemporary art reimagined angels, and their depiction became subjective, reflecting both a change in artistic expression and how the Holy Scriptures were treated, with the idea that man could interpret the words of the Scripture, just as art, as they desired.   Another reason our view of angels has shifted is that we simply don’t speak of them as we ought to, at least not in the church. While nearly seven out of ten adults believe in angels, the church has long failed to teach about them or help the flock see how angels are sprinkled throughout the liturgy of the Divine Service or have been included in many of the prayers handed down from old.   None of this is new either. The feast of St. Michael didn’t appear until the 5th century. While you may say that’s a long time ago, the church year was already taking shape one to two hundred years earlier. During the Reformation, this festival became St. Michael and All Angels Day. Why? Because people needed reminders of the angels and their service to God, and they needed teaching.   Are we that different? Don’t we also need instruction on the angels, let alone constant reminders of all the doctrines of the faith?   We do, because without this teaching and constant reminders, we are liable to veer away from a proper understanding of these messengers of God, including who they are and what they were created and sent to do here among us on earth.   Alright, so let’s take a moment to examine how angels functioned throughout today’s readings, especially St. Michael.   In the Old Testament reading from Daniel, it began by saying, “Behold, a hand touched me…” This is kind of a startling way to begin: “Behold, a hand touched me…”   Whose hand?   It was the hand of a heavenly messenger God sent to the prophet Daniel. Daniel has been grieving for his people and Jerusalem: they are in captivity, and Jerusalem has been destroyed. As he continues to mourn what has happened, God sends a heavenly messenger to console him and offer him hope, telling him that St. Michael, who helped defeat the kings of Persia, will come again and fight for you.   And this is what the latter half of the reading from Daniel addresses: St. Michael, the archangel, is seen as having charge over Israel and its people. God’s people will be released from their captivity, their sin, and their death. Daniel writes that those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall be awakened, some to everlasting life and some to everlasting contempt (Daniel 12:2).   What does this sound like to you?   It’s the day of judgment. Daniel’s words provide a vision of Christ’s death and resurrection, His ascension, and His return on the last day. These words point us to the reading from Revelation, which says that war broke out in heaven, “Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon [and his angels].” (Revelation 12:7)   These words from Daniel and Revelation reveal to us that this is not a normal battle; it’s not simply an earthly battle; it’s a cosmic battle.   St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians, For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 6:12)   Behind any earthly opponent to the Church stands a demonic force that does not wish for the Christian to worship God, to receive His forgiveness, or to receive eternal life.   You see, up until this battle in heaven, Satan stood in God’s holy presence, accusing God’s saints. (Revelation 12:10) As one theologian remarked, “It was a war, so to speak, of words with which Satan accused God’s saints of their sins.” (Brighton, 333) And by doing this, Satan was claiming to represent the children of God.   But Satan was expelled, thrown out of heaven to earth below with all his angels when Christ ascended into heaven. Before Jesus died on the cross, Satan could accuse the children of God of their sins, but once Jesus returned to the right hand of His Father, the devil could no longer remain.   He is now confined to this earth, where he continues to attempt to deceive God’s children, for he is their adversary, enemy, and accuser. This is what the name Satan means: to be an adversary, enemy, and accuser.   All of this leads us to the Gospel reading from St. Matthew, where Jesus warns, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.”   Reflect on this for a moment: the disciples of Jesus just asked Him, again, who would be the greatest in heaven. They have been led into sin; they have permitted the spiritual forces of evil to lead them into temptation and sin.   Why? Because they want to be great, they seek what has not been given to them; does that sound familiar? Sounds like the Garden of Eden, where your parents were led into temptation, disobeyed their Creator, and brought sin into the world?   But Jesus places a child in their midst and says, “Be like this little one, this child, if you want to inherit heaven.”   What are children?   If you’ve spent any time around a child, you know they can be talkative, loud, tiring, dirty, and sometimes stinky creatures. But they’re God’s creatures, His children.   If you want to be great in the kingdom of God, then you have to be like one of these little ones. You have to see yourself for who you are, an often too talkative, loud, tiring, dirty, stinky child of God.   That’s you.   You have to humble yourselves, have humility, learn to confess your sin, the ways you have given in to the temptations of the devil, and place all your trust in God to care for you, to protect you.   Learn not to look down on other children of God, your brothers and sisters in Christ, His little ones; because Jesus says, “I have given my angels charge over them, and they see my Father’s face in heaven.”   If you see and understand who St. Michael and His angels truly are and how God has used them throughout Scripture, you should pause, because God still uses these warriors to care for His children on earth today.   So how are we to remember these truths about angels?   First, read the Scriptures faithfully, and you’ll hear stories of how God uses angels and how He defends and protects His people from His enemies, whether through the battles of the Old Testament or the announcements of Christ’s birth, His resurrection, or His ascension.   Or how they still dwell among us today.   You won’t take long to understand this, either, if you faithfully attend the Divine Service. Throughout the liturgy, you’re reminded of the angels’ role in the story of salvation: in Gloria Patri, when your voices join those of the angels at Christmas; and in response to the Proper Preface, when the pastor sings, “With angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven,” and the congregation breaks into the Sanctus—a hymn of praise to God, sung with the angels as heaven descends upon earth and dwells within the walls of Good Shepherd.   When you participate and sing in the liturgy of the Divine Service, you join the angelic choirs, and you can be confident they dwell among you, here and now, in this moment.   Why? Because they see the Father’s face in heaven, and their job is to ensure you are able to hear the voice of your Father in heaven.   But we must not overlook that, though Satan was cast down to earth at Jesus’ ascension, he continues to tempt you and draw you away from God’s holy Word. The devil wants you to compete with one another, boast in yourselves, and act proudly. He desires your downfall, seeking to break the fellowship and unity you share. When you do not live according to God’s Word, the devil stands ready to be your accuser, for he is your enemy and adversary.   Make no mistake about this.   So you need to be on guard, but most of all, you need to exercise your faith and pray to God to continue sending His holy angels to be with you, to guard and protect you, so the evil foe wouldn’t have any power over you.   Here is t

  7. Sep 20

    The Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity | St. Luke 7:11-17 | A Mother's Love for Her Children

    The Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity September 20, 2026 St. Luke 7:11-17     Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,   The famous novelist Agatha Christie once wrote, “A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.”   When I hear this quote, I think of the common saying, “Don’t mess with a momma bear.” I say this endearingly, too.   A mother’s love is special; what won’t a mother do for her son or daughter? What lengths will she go to comfort and protect her little one? How many mothers would give up their lives for the life of their child?   Watching and following Lindsay Clancy’s recent court proceedings has been very challenging. For those unfamiliar, Lindsay Clancy faced trial in Massachusetts for the killing of her three young children. Ultimately, the judge declared a mistrial as the jurors couldn't agree unanimously on her guilt or innocence.   The central issue of the trial was whether Mrs. Clancy was aware of her actions, mentally stable, or affected by postpartum depression, experienced by 1 in 7 women, or, more severely, postpartum psychosis, a rare but very serious psychiatric crisis.   Now, I’m not going to act as an expert on her mental health or anyone else’s, for that matter, but this particular situation has raised many arguments and discussions across the spectrum of beliefs.   In some corners of society, Mrs. Clancy is viewed differently: some see her as a victim deserving sympathy due to the medical system’s failure to protect her, while others see her as a murderer who must be held accountable for her terrible crimes.   Ultimately, none of us can truly know her heart or her mental state at that moment. Instead, we should pray for her, for justice according to God's will, for the father who will never hold his children again, and for the three young lives lost to be welcomed into our heavenly Father’s presence.   But all of this is difficult for us because, again, when we imagine a mother, we envision that Mama Bear with immense love for her child.   And this has been true since the beginning of time.   In our Old Testament reading, the son of a widow dies; the mother immediately says to Elijah, “What have you against me, o man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to cause the death of my son!” (1 Kings 17:18-19)   The widow initially viewed Elijah’s words as condemning, perceiving them as exposing her sin and linking them to her son’s death. She openly expressed her thoughts to Elijah. However, once Elijah restores her son to life and reunites him with her, she recognizes that Elijah’s words truly come from the Lord, offering life and salvation and hinting at the greater resurrection through Jesus.   Earlier in First Kings, there’s a story involving mothers: two prostitutes living in the same house each had a baby. One mother accidentally rolled onto her newborn during the night and killed him. Seeing what happened, she took the other woman’s child and put her dead child in the woman’s bed. In the morning, when she realized the child was not hers, a conflict broke out over who had the right to the living child. They brought their case to King Solomon, who finally addressed them.   “Bring me a sword.” So a sword was brought before the king. And the king said, “Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other.” Then the woman whose son was alive said to the king, because her heart yearned for her son, “Oh, my lord, give her the living child, and by no means put him to death.” But the other said, “He shall be neither mine nor yours; divide him.” (1 Kings 3:24-26)   Once more, it is a mother’s love for her child. Out of love, she would rather give up her child to be raised by someone else than see their life end. (This beautifully illustrates adoption, where a mother unable to care for her child entrusts them to another.)   Again, in the Gospel today, we hear of another mother, another widow, whose son has died. There’s no commentary on how the death occurred, what the cause of death was; all that we know is that the corpse was being taken to the grave, where it would be laid to rest and placed into the earth. The mother, the widow, was following behind the corpse. As a widow, this day meant she was destined to be poor, with no one caring for her. But here comes Jesus, and He sees her need and has σπλαγχνίζομαι for the woman. He has compassion.   σπλαγχνίζομαι is a deep feeling of pity and sympathy that proceeds from one’s innermost being, from the very bowels of Jesus.   Jesus goes to the woman, shows compassion, and says, “Do not weep.”   What unfolds before this mother’s eyes foreshadows the day when life and death will contend on the cross of Calvary. It foreshadows that Jesus is the Lord of life, that death cannot defeat Him, and that the grave will not contain Him.   So Jesus not only says to the young man, “I say to you arise,” but he touches death with His hands; He takes into His own flesh the sin and death that resided in the young man and gave him His life.   Once more, all of this points us to the cross, where the struggle between life and death is evident, and where Mary, the mother of our Lord, stands at the foot of His cross, watching with sadness as tears fill her eyes. She could do nothing. The boy she conceived, gave birth to, nurtured, and watched grow, whom she would do anything for, hung there for the salvation of the world.   In this moment, it was not Mary’s will be done, but her Father’s, who is in heaven.   Gut-wrenching it had to be, to witness the death of a child, no matter the age. No matter the mother, from a prostitute to the mother of our Lord.   In these biblical stories of mothers and their love for their children, we see a love that defies law and protects at all costs, even if it means destroying anything in their path. This makes it hard to understand how a mother of three could harm her children.   For good reason, you should struggle with what happened to those three little children in Massachusetts.   It’s not normal, it’s not okay, and it requires our prayers.   But we must also understand that the cause of death, for all of us, is sin. The sin that breeds anger in the hearts of some to viciously take life, the sin that alters the chemicals of the brain so one does not act as they ought, the sin that leads to the grave.   Our society and culture still struggle with the tension between life and death, but the faithful know that victory has already been achieved, and it’s the Church’s role to be the voice of that triumph. We allow ourselves to feel deep pity, sympathy, and compassion. We adopt a posture of prayer for all women who are pregnant, seeking their well-being and joyful births. We should also pray for women facing infertility, miscarriages, and the emptiness of childlessness. Additionally, we must pray for those suffering from mental illness or satanic attacks, asking that they be strengthened through the Gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ, their Savior and the Savior of all children.   We must bring the hurting, ourselves included, to the Church, a Mother above all mothers, where life and death have already fought. Like an umbilical cord, the Church is where life and salvation are present for you, the source of nourishment, faith, and safety from the darkness of the world.   St. Cyrpiran, a third-century bishop, once wrote, “He can no longer have God for his Father, who has not the Church for his mother.”   You may find this an odd statement at first, but let Martin Luther flesh it out in the Large Catechism, where he says, “The Church…is the mother that conceives and bears every Christian through God’s Word.” (Large Catechism, para 42)   And this begins at the font. At the font, we confess not only our sins, the evil thoughts that plague us and lead us into temptation and evil, but also our death with Jesus on the cross; at the font, we also confess our resurrection in Him, our new birth and life.   By your Baptism, you are a child of your heavenly Father and a member of His Church, a mother who offers comfort and refuge, even in the darkest of times. Remember this; remind your neighbor and point them to this joy, for as baptized children of God, you all belong to paradise, because your Savior Jesus Christ reaches out and touches you in your weakness and says, “arise.”   Arise to new life in Him. +INJ+       Rev. Noah J. Rogness Pastor, Good Shepherd Lutheran Church Tomah, WI   Good Shepherd Lutheran Church Website: www.goodsheptomah.org The Shepherd’s Voice Podcast: https://goodsheptomah.podbean.com/

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Welcome to The Shepherd’s Voice, the podcast ministry of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church (LCMS) in Tomah, Wisconsin. Each episode shares Christ-centered preaching, Bible teaching, and encouragement for your walk of faith. Rooted in the historic Lutheran confession, we proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ crucified and risen for the forgiveness of sins. Whether you’re a lifelong Lutheran, exploring the Christian faith, or seeking hope in daily life, The Shepherd’s Voice offers clear Law and Gospel preaching, devotionals, and reflections grounded in God’s Word. Join us as we lift high the cross of Christ and connect listeners to the Shepherd who knows His sheep by name.