Psalm 46 - The Calm Defiance of Fear - November 1, 2020

Are you looking forward to Wednesday? I am. Because I’m hopeful that on Wednesday nearly half of the mail I receive, countless voices on the radio, commercials on TV and social media, dozens of text messages and phone calls – will finally stop trying to tell me what to do. You know what they’ve been telling you what to do: make a plan, tell your family and friends, fill out your mail-in ballot, go down to your clerk’s office, go on November 3rd – but whatever you do and however you do it, above all: VOTE! I don’t know about you, but I’m tired political parties telling me what to do. Even more, I’m even more tired of being told how to feel. It would probably be overstating it to suggest that this is the most “emotional” election ever, but hasn’t it seemed like both candidates based their appeals not on reason or record but emotions? And what emotion have both campaigns tried to trigger? Fear! You’re told to be afraid that your taxes will go up, your healthcare will be taken away, your police will be defunded, your liberties will be taken away, you won’t be allowed to worship, your planet will be destroyed – and, most potent of all: you will die if one or the other is elected. How does a Christian respond to these incessant calls to be afraid? With calm defiance.  

How can we stand in calm defiance when so many voices out there are telling us we ought to be paralyzed with fear? The psalmist gets right to the point: God is our refuge and strength, a helper who can always be found in times of trouble. The psalmist seems pretty confident that God is in control and that God is on his side, doesn’t he? I think we sometimes find that level of confidence unnerving, don’t we? How can I be as sure as the psalm writer that God is on my side? Where can I always find him in my times of trouble? What is the basis for his bold declaration that we will not fear when the earth dissolves and when the mountains tumble into the heart of the sea? What about his even bolder challenge in verse 3, which could be translated: let its waters roar and foam. Let the mountains quake when it rises. (In other words: “Go ahead, let the world fall apart about around me. I’m not worried.”) Who does he think he is to be so defiant in the face of trouble? While we certainly could understand these words to be describing the literal destruction of creation, the very personal tenor of this psalm leads to a figurative interpretation…that from the perspective of the psalmist, his personal world was falling apart around him. That he was experiencing a time of severe personal distress. You know what you often get when you’re suffering times of personal distress, right? Bumper sticker theology. It varies from the vague “my prayers are with you” (prayers to whom, for what?) to “God doesn’t gives us any more than we can handle” (even though he obviously does, quite regularly) to “this too shall pass” (oh really, how do you know that? Try telling that to someone with a chronic condition). Bumper sticker theology is not what you need in times of severe personal distress.

What do you need? Something sure, something certain, something concrete and objective. That’s where the psalmist turns next. There is a river – its streams bring joy to the city of God, to the holy dwelling of the Most High. God is in her. She will not fall. God will help her at daybreak. Rather than a vague wish, the psalmist describes a concrete place of comfort. The question is: where is this place? In the greater context of Scripture, it appears the poet is describing two places: places where God was, indeed, a helper who could always be found. In Eden, a garden watered by four rivers (Genesis 2:10-14), not only was there perfect tranquility, but Adam and Eve walked and talked with God, he was easily found. The second would be the temple in Jerusalem, where God had made his dwelling place among people, where they could always come to him for mercy and help (2 Chronicles 6:1-2). Ok, but we’re not in Eden and the temple today is rubble underneath a mosque – what good does this do us? Where is God to help us here and now?

The answer is found when you understand that in the New Testament, the dwelling of the Most High is no longer a place but a person. In John 2, Jesus cleared the temple of the sleazy salesmen. When the Jewish leaders demanded to know who he thought he was to rage through their temple like a bull in a china shop he said destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up again (John 2:19). But he wasn’t talking about the physical temple, he was speaking about the temple of his body (John 2:21). So the fullness of God can always be found in Jesus (Colossians 2:9). And where can Jesus be found? What is the city of God? Not Jerusalem. You are. This is. Just as in the OT the temple in Jerusalem was the place where God dwelled and where God’s people found his help – so now you are the people of God and the church is where you come to find his help in your times of trouble. Here is where the river of God’s grace flows to us, bringing us joy, even when our world is falling apart. Here is where you are reminded that you have been sealed in the faith and the family of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Here is where you come to be assured that whatever troubles you face are not God’s punishment for your sins because your sins have been removed in the Absolution. Here is where you receive your Savior’s body and blood with your mouth, the tangible guarantee that God the Holy Spirit is in [you] (Acts 2:38; 1 Corinthians 6:19), that no matter what happens [you] will not fall. This isn’t vague, wishful, “bumper sticker” theology. These are the unshakeable and unbreakable promises of God. God is in Jesus and Jesus is easily found here in Word and Sacrament. Let your world fall apart around you – grounded in Jesus, you will not fall! Let the earth dissolve and the mountains tumble: God is our refuge and strength – we will not fear!

In verse 6, the psalmist shifts his focus to a second potential source of fear in this world: nations are in turmoil. Kingdoms fall. God raises his voice. The earth melts. This is a pretty accurate description of our nation this week, isn’t it? Both candidates claim that if they aren’t elected president we will lose our nation, our democracy, our safety, our liberty. Both candidates claim that they are the only one who can keep us safe from Covid-19 and bring our economy back from the resulting recession. Both candidates claim that only they can heal the racial and social tensions that have divided our country and destroyed our cities. And there is the general fear that no matter who wins there may be a new round of violence and anarchy in our nation. No matter who you have or will vote for, I will give you the same Biblical election advice this year that I gave you four years ago: do not trust in human helpers, in a mortal man who cannot save you. His spirit departs. He returns to the ground he came from. On that day, his plans have perished (Psalm 146:3-4). Because if there’s anything that we know for sure, it’s that no matter who wins this election, our nation will continue to face turmoil and our nation will always appear ready to fall.

“But, pastor, we’re really, genuinely scared that one or the other will take away our liberties, our freedom to worship, to own guns, to send our kids to school, to go where we want when we want, to have personal privacy, to be safe from viruses, etc.” When you feel that fear welling up inside, stop, turn the TV off, set your phone aside, open up your Bible to Psalm 46 and read: the LORD of Armies is with us. The God of Jacob is a fortress for us. Let’s not deny the truth that the earth is melting around us (which is clearly one of the signs of the end (Matthew 24)) and that it is the voice of God that delivers this melting down of society and science and politics as a warning to an impenitent and unbelieving world. And Scripture makes it clear that Christians are not immune to the effects of this meltdown. And yet, in the midst of the chaos and turmoil, what do we see? God as our good and gracious LORD. God as the commander of armies beyond number. God as a fortress. God as a fortress for us. That is why – even as millions of Americans will spend the next four years either depressed or ecstatic, bent on revolution or rebellion, hiding in their homes or rioting in the streets – we believers will stand calmly defiant of it all. Let them lock us down again – the gospel cannot be chained (2 Timothy 2:9). Let them defund the police – our God has vowed to protect us with legion after legion of his angelic armies (Psalm 91:11; Matthew 26:53). Let Covid rage through the population – for if this past year has proven anything, it’s that it’s far better to be with Christ (Philippians 1:23). Let them keep our kids out of school – they can’t keep Christian mothers and fathers from bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord (Ephesians 6:4). Let the nations roil and kingdoms fall – the God of Jacob is our fortress – we will not fear!

The psalmist paints one final, fearful portrait: come, look at the works of the LORD. What a wasteland he has made of the earth! He makes wars to cease to the end of the earth. He shatters the bow. He cuts up the spear. He burns the carts with fire. The Psalmist invites us to take a look at the only track record that really counts: the LORD’s record of simultaneous deliverance and destruction. Take your pick: Noah and his family floating safely in the ark while the Lord destroys the world in a flood (Genesis 7-9); Pharaoh and his army washing up like seaweed on the shore of the Red Sea as the children of Israel march on to the Promised Land (Exodus 14:30); Hezekiah laying down to sleep while the Assyrian king Sennacherib – who had Jerusalem surrounded – “melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!” [1] - as his army of 185,000 was struck down by the angel of the LORD (2 Kings 19:35). Or today, as you see all of the signs of the end Jesus warned about (Matthew 24) being fulfilled right before your eyes hear the calm, quiet voice through the storm: be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted on the earth. For the unbelieving world around us, this is both a stern warning and an awful prediction. Against the idolatry and arrogance of our culture, God will have the final say. He alone controls this world – past, present and future. And the natural and political disasters we see are just a taste of the judgment that is to come for them. But for us, this is a guarantee, a guarantee that no matter what happens – even as the holy Judgment of God rains down on the earth in natural and societal and political disasters – God, our God, our Savior, remains in control, he will deliver us out of this great tribulation to the perfect peace and safety of heaven (Revelation 7:14).

Whichever one of these three sources of fear is troubling you most right now; whether it’s personal distress or anxiety about the election or the signs of imminent Judgment – the question is not “Where is God in all of this?” (we’ve already established that he’s always there) but rather, “how will you respond?” We have the response of the inspired writer of Psalm 46 – who may well have written this psalm from Jerusalem while the Assyrian army was poised to wipe it off the face of the earth – before us. Today we also commemorate the response of our namesake: Martin Luther. Just over 500 years ago, Luther posted his 95 theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg which called into question the heretical teachings of the Roman Catholic Church. Years later, in April of 1521, in the town of Worms, Luther refused to retract his writings and his teachings and declared – in direct defiance of the two most powerful men in the world: pope Leo X and emperor Charles V (men who had the power to have him excommunicated and executed) – “Unless I can be instructed and convinced with evidence from the Holy Scriptures or with open, clear, and distinct grounds and reasoning – and my conscience is captive to the Word of God – then I cannot and will not recant, because it is neither safe nor wise to act against conscience…Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me! Amen.” [2] That, dear friends, is what the calm defiance of fear looks and sounds like – grounded firmly on the words and promises of God.

There will be times in future days, weeks and months when we will witness the three scenes of Psalm 46 playing out not only on our TVs but in our lives. The question is not if but when. The bigger question is: how will we respond? In a world and culture led by the devil which tries to convince us that we should live in abject fear, we will stand firm and calmly defiant: we will not fear because God is our refuge and strength a helper who can always be found in times of trouble. Here we stand. God help us. Amen.    

[1] Lord Byron, The Destruction of Sennacherib. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43827/the-destruction-of-sennacherib

[2] Kittelson, James M. Luther the Reformer, p. 161

Matthew 22:1-14 - Which Would Be Worst? - October 25, 2020

Which would be worst? Hitting your funny bone or stubbing your toe? Losing your sense of taste or sense of smell? A Packers loss or a Bears win? Yes, these are silly hypothetical questions…usually pondered only by people with nothing better to do. But in the parable our Lord tells us today, we are led to consider three classes of people and ask: which would be worst?

What’s worse than not going to church? Nothing, right? Not only is not going to church a blatant sin against the 3rd commandment (Exodus 20:8), but it is a sin against the Gospel, which is the only cure for sin, death and the power of the devil. You may be an adulterer, a thief, a drunk, a murderer – and still come here to be cured of those sins. But what can be done for the person who ignores and neglects the only cure for their sins? (This is clearly an imperfect analogy – because whether or not a vaccine will actually be effective is highly debatable – but it would be like rejecting an opportunity to go get a free Covid-19 cure.) So, not going to church is the worst sin a person can commit, right?

Well, it’s certainly not good. Jesus begins his parable by describing people who don’t come to church. The kingdom of heaven is like a certain king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son. He sent out his servants to summon those who were invited to the wedding banquet, but they did not want to come. A wedding banquet. Free food. Free wine. Who would turn that down? But those who had previously been invited rejected the invitation. Why? At first, they don’t have any excuses, they simply didn’t want to come. (Which, incidentally, is usually the reason people don’t come to church today.) The king can’t believe it. He apparently thinks his invitation got lost in the mail. So he sends out more servants and has them explain that the invitation is real, the prime rib has been sliced, the wine is flowing, the meal is really ready to eat. All they need to do is come and feast. But they still don’t care. But now they have excuses. They had fields to tend to, businesses to run, money to make, football to watch. They don’t care about all the time and money and effort the king put in to preparing the banquet. They don’t care about honoring the king’s son with their presence. (And that’s the real sin at the heart of neglecting worship: you’re disrespecting and dishonoring God and his Son!)

Anyone who’s ever thrown a party can easily understand the king’s frustration. You send out your invitations and those you invite don’t even bother RSVPing. When you go to all of that time and effort to prepare a party, it’s infuriating when your guests don’t show up. Now consider the fact that this parable is not about you but about God. This isn’t just about a king planning and preparing a party but God planning and preparing salvation. God didn’t just butcher an ox or slaughter his only fattened calf – he slaughtered his own Son on the cross for your sins and for the sins of the world (1 John 2:2). People who don’t come to church when they are able aren’t just rejecting prime rib – they are demonstrating by their behavior that they are rejecting Jesus, the Son of God, the only Savior.

If that sounds a little strong, a little extreme to you, then just open up Hebrews 10. There God says that if we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the full knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains any sacrifice for sins. Instead, there is a certain fearful expectation of judgment and a raging fire that is going to consume the enemies of God (Hebrews 10:26-27). Why? Because they have trampled the Son of God underfoot, who considered insignificant the blood of the covenant…and…insulted the Spirit of grace (Hebrews 10:29). And who is the author of Hebrews describing? Mass murderers? Abortion doctors? Pedophiles? Terrorists? No, those who neglect meeting together (Hebrews 10:25).

So that settles it, right? There is no greater sin than not going to church. Well, let’s keep reading. The rest seized the king’s servants, mistreated them, and killed them. You’ve heard the saying “don’t shoot the messenger.” It comes from an ancient tradition of granting immunity on the battlefield to envoys who would deliver messages between the warring sides. (Although today we use it to describe the hostile and sometimes violent reactions people have to the bearers of bad news.) But what’s bad about being invited to a feast where everything is provided, not just the food and drink but even the clothes, free of charge? Why would anyone kill a messenger with this message? Jesus is trying to show his audience how senseless it is to reject and abuse the envoys of his Gospel. And yet this senseless rejection of good news was and is all too common. It was senseless for Ahab to blame Elijah for the trouble Israel was facing when it was really the result of his own sins (1 Kings 18:17). It was senseless when the Jewish leaders rush at Stephen, covering their ears (like angry children) and stoned him to death (Acts 7:57-59) or when the Jews at Lystra dragged Paul out of the city and stoned him, too (Acts 14:19). It’s senseless when Christians today are hostile and indignant (or just indifferent) toward God’s servants when they invite them to come to church to feast on the Word and Sacrament. Where does such senseless rage against God’s servants come from? Hell. It’s only the devil and those who believe his lies who would show such rage and anger against the invitation to come to church to have your sins forgiven.

And the king responds to their violent rejection in kind. Our translation says the king was very angry. There are two Greek words for this kind of anger. One refers to a “flash in the pan” type of anger that quickly comes and goes. The other indicates settled, determined, and burning rage. The second type is the word used here. God is so furious with those who persecute his servants that he doesn’t just kill them, he burns down their whole town.

Well then, thank God that that’s not us. Thank God that we are in church today. Thank God that we haven’t persecuted the servants he has sent. Yes, thank God! But don’t get too comfortable. Let’s keep reading. When the king came in to see the guests, he saw a man there who was not wearing wedding clothes. He said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without wearing wedding clothes?’ The man was speechless. Then the king told his servants, ‘Tie him hand and foot and throw him into the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ So, of the three types of people who reject God’s grace, who gets himself clearly thrown into hell? It’s not those skipping the banquet in their fields or at their businesses; it’s not those who mistreated and killed God’s servants; it’s the one who came to the wedding banquet but wasn’t wearing proper wedding clothes.

You see, this parable wasn’t really directed at those who ignore God’s invitation or those who persecute his servants – after all, what good would that be, they’re not here! – but for those who come to church, for you and me! This reality is hidden in the original Greek. It literally says that “Jesus answered them again in parables.” Who is he answering? The same audience as last week. The chief priests and Pharisees (Matthew 21:45)). These were the people who went to church every day. They gave their offerings faithfully. They went above and beyond in their outward obedience to God’s commands. They did everything they could for God. So what was the problem? They rejected everything God wanted to do for them in Jesus.

In the parable the man rejects the wedding clothes necessary for attendance at the banquet. He – to use a popular slogan – comes just as he is. The question is: what does this mean? How can a person be at the wedding feast, at church, and not be wearing the proper clothing? In one of two ways. Either because they think they don’t need wedding clothes or they don’t think they’re worthy of them. As we stand on our own, Isaiah says all of us have become like something unclean, and all our righteous acts are like a filthy cloth (Isaiah 64:6). Many church-going people, like the Pharisees, lack the appropriate wedding clothes because of their self-righteousness. You think that coming to church makes you righteous? Placing your offering in the basket? Volunteering your time or energy? Being a faithful husband or wife? Being a loving and diligent parent? Being a good employee or employer or citizen? Think again. If you think that this church (and this pulpit) is filled with good people who don’t need wedding clothes because they can qualify all by themselves, then you’re in for a nasty surprise. In the end, you’ll be tied up and tossed out of the banquet into the darkness.

On the other end of the spectrum are those who believe that they don’t deserve to put on the wedding clothes God offers them. They are fully aware of their sins but despair of ever being forgiven. They know themselves to be the worst of sinners, but they stop there (1 Timothy 1:15). They think that the forgiveness offered is only for other people, better people. Have you ever thought that way? Oh sure, it sounds pious, it may even sound religious – but it’s dead wrong. Perhaps that’s what the man in the parable thought about himself. He thought he would show the king how humble he was by not presuming to put on the wedding clothes. That could be why he was speechless when the king confronted him. He thought the king would be pleased with his humility. But it’s not our humility, it’s not the sincerity of our repentance that pleases God – because he demands nothing less than perfect righteousness.

The good news is that while our best clothes, our best behavior, our best efforts aren’t good enough for God – Jesus is. And Jesus – or more specifically, his righteousness – is what is distributed here each week to sinners like you and me. Every week you should look at the baptismal font and remember that you have been baptized, because Paul promises that as many of you as were baptized into Christ have been clothed with Christ (Galatians 3:27). Every week when you hear the absolution you should remember and believe that your scarlet sins are made as white as snow (Isaiah 1:18). Every time you receive the body and blood of your Savior you should remember that his blood has washed away the filth of your sins and made you spotless in the eyes of God.

We who come to church have made it, by God’s grace, over two hurdles. We are where the means of grace (the wedding clothing distribution system God has instituted) are, in baptism, absolution, and Holy Communion. None of us are open persecutors of God’s called servants. But that makes us vulnerable to the third hurdle. If we think that we’re either not so bad that we need Jesus’ righteousness or that we’re too bad for it – either way, we’re rejecting it; we’re refusing to put on the wedding clothes. And that, friend (as Jesus said), is the king of all sins before God the king. Don’t forget that no matter how good or bad we think we are, the reason Jesus wants to meet us here is to give us the wedding clothes of his righteousness.

And that’s why church is important. That’s why you’re here: to receive the wedding clothes, the righteousness, that only Jesus can provide through the simple means of baptism, absolution and communion. So it turns out that we’ve been asking the wrong question. The question isn’t: what could be worse than not going to church or persecuting God’s servants or going to church but not wearing the right clothes. The question is: what could possibly be better than coming here to feast on the all-you-can-eat buffet of God’s grace, mercy and peace? And the answer to that is: nothing. Amen.

Matthew 21:33-43 - A "Must Hear" Parable - October 18, 2020

I know I’m dating myself and many of you with this question, but do you remember “Must See TV?” “Must See TV” was an advertising slogan used by NBC in the 1990’s to promote its Thursday night lineup of shows anchored by “Seinfeld” – the show about nothing. (Now, don’t let your mind go wandering off to your favorite “Seinfeld” quote or episode.) I only bring up the “Must See TV” slogan because in the original Greek text, Jesus tells his audience that they “must hear” another parable. So, let’s listen.

While Jesus telling us that we must hear this parable is why we must hear it, the bigger question is how should we hear it? How did you hear this parable? I’m nearly certain that you heard it as a business transaction. The landowner planted a vineyard and then leased it out to some tenant farmers and went away. And when he came back he sent his servants out to get his fruit. We hear a business transaction here because we understand business transactions. So did the chief priests and the Pharisees – the two groups Jesus was addressing (Matthew 21:45). They understood the kingdom of God – including forgiveness and salvation – as a business transaction. Rather than remembering that the only reason Israel was God’s chosen people was because of his free and gracious choice, they saw the agreement made at Mt. Sinai as a transactional way to remain in God’s favor (Exodus 24:3). The Pharisees figured they were doing their part by their tithing, their dieting, and their shunning of sinners. The Sadducees believed that as long as they ruled Israel civilly and spiritually – and especially maintained a friendly relationship with their Roman occupiers – they were keeping their side of the bargain and retained God’s favor.

But we hear this parable more accurately when we understand that the landowner was – according to the Greek – actually the “master of the house.” And he didn’t really lease [his vineyard] out for rent, he “gave it out,” freely. That this is a free giving becomes clear when Jesus says at the end of the parable that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces its fruit where the same rare word clearly refers to a free giving, not renting.

What is Jesus’ purpose in telling this parable? He was trying to lead these Jewish leaders to rethink their relationship with God. To help them understand that they possessed power and glory and leadership over his people – his vineyard – not because they had earned it but only as a gift of his grace. A little story can help to illustrate the difference between a business transaction and a family relationship. A little boy who viewed himself as quite the entrepreneur and decided that his relationship with his mother should operate more like a business than a family. At the end of the day, he left a bill on the kitchen table. Emptied the dishwasher - $1. Took out the trash – $1. Cleaned my room - $2. Total: $4. Signed, your son. Then he goes upstairs to his room and finds his mother’s “bill” on his bed. Made your breakfast, lunch and dinner – no charge. Washed two loads of your laundry – no charge. Driving you to and from school – no charge. And it finally dawns on him that his relationship with his mother wasn’t based on his effort but on his mother’s love. And that’s the first thing we “must hear” – that our relationship with God is also based on his grace, not our effort.  

Second, you “must hear” what fruit the master of the house sent his servants to get. And he sends a lot of servants. Remember, this parable is about God and Israel – so the servants are the OT prophets. Jeremiah wrote repeatedly about how many prophets God sent to Israel to gather fruit. From the time your fathers left Egypt until today, I have sent all my servants, the prophets, to them again and again (Jeremiah 7:25). The LORD sent all his servants the prophets to you again and again, but you have not listened or paid attention (Jeremiah 25:4). I have sent my servants the prophets to you again and again. They told you to turn from your evil ways, to reform your actions, and to stop following other gods in order to serve them (Jeremiah 35:15). The question is: what was the fruit that God expected to gather from his people, the people of Israel?

Well, we know that he wanted their offerings and sacrifices; their service and their obedience to his commandments. And so we assume that that’s the fruit God was looking for, right? But that would be an incorrect assumption. What does the Lord say in Psalm 50? I do not need to take a bull from your barn or goats from your pens, because every animal in the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand mountains…If I were hungry, I would not tell you, because the world is mine, and all that fills it (Psalm 50:9-10; 12). The fruit God was looking for was not sacrifices and offerings but…what? What fruit does God look to gather from us? In other words, what is the only thing we can really claim as our own? Our sins! Yes, even in the OT, this is the fruit he was looking for: come now, and let us reason together, says the LORD. Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow. Though they are red as crimson, they will be like wool (Isaiah 1:18). Just as Jesus would later say, God wasn’t looking for the healthy, but the sick; not for the righteous, but sinners (Matthew 9:12-13).  From Adam to Malachi, from John to Jesus – this was the single, uniform message God sent prophet after prophet to proclaim to his people. He sent one after another to gather a harvest of sinners to be saved by his grace. He was looking for the fruit of repentance and faith. And we must hear that repentance and faith are the fruits God wants from us, too.

Let’s reset the scene. Jesus told this parable on the last Tuesday of his life. You can think of Tuesday of Holy Week like the media day before the Super bowl. Jesus is holding court in the temple, being interviewed by the people and the leaders, answering their questions and pleading with them to believe in him as their Savior. And yet, even as he’s pleading with them to repent and believe and be saved, what are they planning to do? That’s the next thing you must hear in this parable – and you must hear how absolutely absurd the rest of the parable is. Jesus tells them that the master of the house sends servants to the tenants to get his fruit. The tenant farmers seized his servants. They beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. But he didn’t stop there. Then the landowner sent even more servants than the first time. The tenant farmers treated them the same way. Whether you think of Elijah running and hiding for his life (1 Kings 19:3) Isaiah getting sawn in half (according to tradition) or Jeremiah being dropped into a well (Jeremiah 38:6) – this parable is a brief summary of Israel’s bloody history with the prophets.

But that wasn’t enough. The master wasn’t ready to give up on those tenants quite yet. After they had persecuted or killed every last prophet who called them to repentance, faith and freedom from sin, death and the devil: finally, he sent his son to them. ‘They will respect my son,’ he said. That’s absurd, isn’t it? Would you ever send your child to collect a bill after the debtors had already abused and killed your employees? No reasonable person would – but that’s the point. Grace is not about what is reasonable but about what God has freely chosen to do out of pure, unfathomable, absurd love.

The fact that so many details of this parable are absurd – that is, contrary to normal human experience – tips us off that Jesus isn’t talking about earthly but heavenly things. Maybe the most absurd part is how Jesus leads his enemies to pronounce a damning sentence on themselves: When the landowner comes, he asks, what will he do to those tenant farmers? They told him, “He will bring those wretches to a wretched end. Then he will lease out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him his fruit when it is due.” Picture the scene – Jesus is holding court in the Temple – and he’s just told a parable so absurd that he’s led his enemies to confess their own sins and confess what they deserve from God – before an audience of hundreds if not thousands. Do you know what’s just as absurd? We do the same thing every single week. We admit, we confess that we are wretched sinners who deserve nothing better than for God to come and bring us to a wretched end in this life and give us a wretched place in hell for all eternity. It’s absurd to confess such things in public. So absurd that it can’t be anything other than the work of the Holy Spirit in us.

And the absurdity continues. Jesus shifts his metaphors – from agriculture to architecture; from a vineyard to a construction site. He quotes from Psalm 118. This wasn’t a random selection. Every Jew in Jerusalem would have been singing this psalm as a part of their Passover celebration. More importantly, every Jew knew that this psalm was about the promised Savior, the Messiah, the Christ. They knew that the stone the builders rejected would become the cornerstone and that it would be marvelous in [their] eyes. The song they had been singing was coming true right in front of their eyes. And yet the Jewish leaders remained utterly blind to the truth.

How? Why? Because they had an unclear, a low-definition view of their own sins and God’s grace. To them, everything about Jesus was absurd. It was utterly absurd that the Messiah should be born to an unmarried peasant girl, be raised by a carpenter father (in Nazareth, of all places), hang out with sinners and gather around him a band of Galilean hill-billy’s as disciples. Even more, it seemed to them to be the height of absurdity that the Savior, the Christ could be arrested, convicted and finally nailed to a cross. And they’re right. It is absurd that God sent his Son to the earth knowing that the very people he came to save would kill him; that God’s perfect Son should have to suffer hell and die in the place of his rebellious people. It is absurd. It’s absurd to everyone except to those who clearly see how evil and wicked they have been. Only those who see how truly wretched they are can look at the Son of God, bleeding and dying on a tree, and see it as marvelous [in their] eyes. It’s absurd to everyone except those who recognize that while they may be able to avoid being infected with Covid-19, they cannot escape the death sentence hanging over their heads, and that the only cure is found in that lowly Jew who provided the cure to death itself by his resurrection to life.

The last thing we “must hear” is that we are in this parable. We are the recipients of the vineyard. We are the people to whom it was given so that we might produce its fruit. How can we be so sure? All who are baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ are given a share in God’s kingdom. All who hear and believe the announcement of forgiveness have been vindicated, justified before God. All who receive the body and blood of the Son of God in communion are receiving the fruits of the kingdom – and…they also produce the fruits of the kingdom. Make sure you get that order right. God doesn’t look for fruit from people who are outside of his kingdom, his vineyard. He only looks for fruit from those to whom he has already given the best fruit he possessed: saving faith in his Son as Savior.

The chief priests and the Pharisees refused to receive this gracious fruit from God and so they were unable to produce any of their own. That’s not you. You have received the forgiveness Jesus won for you by his perfect life and his innocent death. Having been forgiven, you can’t help but forgive others. Having been given all the riches of God’s kingdom you can’t help but put your riches to work in the kingdom. Having seen how Jesus prioritized your salvation above all things you can’t help but prioritize his Word above everything else in your life. Having received the life’s work of God’s Son through faith, you can’t help but diligently produce fruit in whatever corner of the vineyard God has placed you. These are the fruits God is looking for. These are the fruits God is producing in you right now – even if you don’t realize it. These are the things you must hear in this parable – and when you hear and understand these things, then you also understand that this is not just a parable…this is reality. Amen.

Matthew 21:28-32 - On Second Thought... - October 11, 2020

Second thoughts. We’ve all had them. And we know that there are good ones and bad ones. Having second thoughts about the spouse, the house, the career you’ve chosen generally isn’t good. But there are good second thoughts. “On second thought, I will exercise instead of watch TV.” “On second thought, I’m going to read my Bible instead of endlessly scrolling through Amazon looking for hot deals.” “On second thought, I will do my homework instead of play video games.” In our text Jesus tells a parable about two sons who had second thoughts to warn and rebuke anyone who would fail to think twice about him.

The obvious question is: “who do the two sons represent?” The majority of the church fathers thought the boys represented the Israelites and the Gentiles. The Israelites I will go, sir but didn’t do what their father asked. They appeared to be obedient. They were the Old Testament church. They had the Scriptures, the Temple, the priesthood, the ceremonies – but in spite of it all they didn’t do the will of the Father – as the OT prophets testify. The Gentile nations, on the other hand, had openly rejected the God of Israel and worshipped false gods – but later, when the Gospel spread to all nations, they repented; they eventually did the will of the Father.

Others stick to the immediate context and say that the “yes-man” represents the chief priests and the elders of the people to whom Jesus is speaking and the “no-man” represents the tax collectors and the prostitutes. That would seem to fit, too, wouldn’t it? Outwardly the chief priests and elders appeared more than willing to work in God’s kingdom. Outwardly they weren’t in open rebellion against him. But while they said “yes,” they lived a secret life of “no” – that is, of unbelief in the Savior God had sent. And then there were the sinners, the prostitutes and tax collectors who lived open lives of saying “no” to God’s will. Think of the woman Jesus met at the well in Samaria had been divorced four times and was currently living in sin (John 4). Or think of men like Matthew himself and Zacchaeus (Matthew 9:9-13; Luke 10:1-10). Both were tax collectors – well known fraudsters. But they had second thoughts, they changed their minds, they repented – and their lives of “no” became “yes.”

And, while either of these interpretations is valid, we’re going to go in a different direction today. Why? Because that leaves you and me out of the picture. That lets us off the hook. We could sit here all day listening to preaching about the sins of others and leave here untouched and unaffected and unrepentant. Unless we see ourselves in these two sons, we’re just wasting our time. In a sense, every Christian is the first son, the “no-man.” We were all born into this world hostile to God (Romans 8:7), saying “no” right to his face. It wasn’t until the Holy Spirit came to us through the Gospel and led us to have the second thought of repentance that we were able to begin working in the Father’s kingdom.

The real danger is that those who have been called to repentance and faith can later become “yes-men.” “Yes-men” are still prevalent in the church today. “We could really use some help with ushering or cleaning or lawn-mowing or teaching or evangelizing, would you be able to help?” And they say “yes,” but don’t do it. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been coming to church lately, can I count on seeing you there Sunday?” “Yes, yes, I’ll be there on Sunday” but you don’t see them. “You know how important it is for your children to be in Sunday school faithfully, to lay a foundation of faith that will carry them through life, will you bring them and stay for Bible class yourself?” “Of course,” and then they don’t show up. I could go on and on. Why would anyone say “yes” when they have no intention of following through? Because “no,” is considered a bad word in Christian circles. So when it comes to God’s will, it’s generally all “yeses.” “Yes, I’ll do that. Yes, I believe that. Yes, yes, yes.” Many seem to believe that it doesn’t matter what you do as long as you have the right intentions. But Jesus makes it abundantly clear that it’s not only about what you say, but what you do; that your words and actions speak louder than your words alone. How do we combine the best of both sons – the “yes” of the second and the follow-through of the first? Here’s a hint: it’s through the third son. (More on him in a bit.)

This is a short parable. It’s easy to think we understand after hearing it only once. But you have to think twice when you really consider who the sons represent and when you consider the will of the Father. Which of the two did the will of his father? Jesus asks. But it’s a trap, isn’t it? Neither boy really did what his father wanted, did they? Which leads to our next question: what is the Father’s will? Clearly, in the parable, the father’s will was that both of his sons agree to go to work in his vineyard. By how does that relate to us?

We tend to have a rather limited, and, frankly, self-centered view of God’s will. We generally think of it in terms of our own behavior and decisions. In other words, we think of God’s will in terms of the Law: what he wants us to do or not do. But God’s will is much bigger than that – it not only encompasses our lives but the lives of all people of all time. Specifically, the Father’s will is that no sinner would perish (Ezekiel 33:11) but that all would be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth (1 Timothy 2:4). And to accomplish that, God put his will into action: when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son to be born of a woman, so that he would be born under the law, in order to redeem those under the law, so that we would be adopted as sons (Galatians 4:4). God wanted his Son to come to earth to save sinners. That’s his will – a will that we cannot accomplish.

We may (and we do) chafe under God’s will for us. We don’t like being told what to believe and do. But just remember this: God has never asked you to do what he told his Son to do. C.S. Lewis described this in Mere Christianity: “The Eternal Being, who knows everything and who created the whole universe, became not only a man but (before that) a baby, and before that a fetus inside a woman’s body. If you want to get the hang of it, think how you would like to become a slug or a crab.” [1] Would you trade places with your pet hamster? And yet Jesus, as Psalm 22 tells us, willingly agreed to become a worm and not a man (Psalm 22:6) as he hung, bleeding and dying, on the cross to pay for the sins of the world.

Jesus is the third son we desperately need because we all exhibit the worst behavior of both sons. We regularly say “no” right to God’s face – and even if we later change our minds, it’s still rebellion worthy of hell. And we also regularly leave here saying “yes” to God’s face only to fail to do his will in our lives. So thank God that there is a 3rd Son who never once said no to God and never failed to follow through. Thank God that Jesus said “yes” to living a life of perfect obedience under the law – and did it; and thank God that Jesus said “yes” to suffering for the sins of the world on the cross – and finished it (John 19:30). Thank God that it was the LORD’s will to crush him and to allow him to suffer (Isaiah 53:10) instead of you. Remember this the next time you’re tempted to doubt or question or chafe against God’s will for you: it was God’s will to make Jesus suffer instead of you; it was his will to punish Jesus so that you could become his child.

In light of that, what is the Father’s will for us now? What “work” does he want us to do in his vineyard, his kingdom? Jesus answers that in John 6. This is the work of God: that you believe in the one he sent (John 6:29). The Father’s greatest will for your life here and now is not that you say “yes” to every single task in his kingdom; his goal is not that you would spend every second of your life feverishly laboring in his kingdom. He wanted the Jewish leaders and the tax collectors and prostitutes and, of course, you, above all, to believe in Jesus. To believe that he suffered the punishment you deserved by his death on the cross. To believe as many times as you’ve behaved like the first two sons, the third Son, Jesus has redeemed you and reconciled you to the Father. That is the real “work” of the Father.

That’s the way it goes with second thoughts, isn’t it? You have to adjust your thinking based on changing facts. There is one more question we have to answer: what is the way of righteousness in which John came? Well, we know that John came preaching against the sins of tax collectors, prostitutes, church leaders – he came preaching repentance and a change of life. But that wasn’t the way of righteousness. Remember what Paul told the Galatians? If there had been a law given that could give life, certainly righteousness would have been derived from the law (Galatians 3:21). If we think that the way of righteousness is the way of the Law, based on what we do, we’re only going to find ourselves exposed; exposed as either being hypocrites who say “yes,” but don’t do it or as having never wanted to do it in the first place.

The way of righteousness John preached wasn’t based on the righteousness of obedience, the righteousness of the Law – but on the righteousness of the third Son. We see this clearly way back at Jesus’ baptism: Jesus came from Galilee to be baptized by John at the Jordan. But John tried to stop him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, because it is proper for us to fulfill all righteousness” (Matthew 3:13-15). The way of righteousness that John taught, that he came to give through baptism to tax collectors and prostitutes, to chief priests and elders was the righteousness of Jesus. Jesus didn’t condemn the Jewish leaders because they failed to obey but because they failed to believe (Matthew 21:32).

This is the second thought God wants you to have about the way of righteousness. He wants you to think twice about his will as laid out in the 10 Commandments. He wants you to realize that he hasn’t given them to you so you can save yourself. Instead, he wants you to see how these commandments expose you as a lost sinner. In other words, he doesn’t want you to be either son. He doesn’t want you to say, “Yes, I will work in your vineyard” – when you and he know that you can’t do it. He doesn’t want to hear, “No, I won’t” only to have you change your mind later. What he wants to hear is: “No, I can’t, but Jesus did in my place.” He doesn’t want you to approach him in the way of your own righteousness – which is really nothing more than filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6) – but rather clothed in the robe of Jesus’ blood and righteousness. The real way of righteousness is one of daily, sincere repentance and faith.

Second thoughts can be good or bad. Jesus teaches us to have good second thoughts in this parable. He wants us to realize that because we exhibit the worst traits of both boys we desperately need a third son – God’s Son – who both said “yes,” and did his Father’s will; he wants us to recognize that the will of God is not that we work to earn a place in his kingdom – but to believe that Jesus’ completed work has earned our place there; and, he wants us to know that the only way of righteousness is the way of faith in Jesus. These are good second thoughts; second thoughts that lead us to say “yes,” to our Father and joyfully go to work in his vineyard. Amen.  

[1] https://www.dacc.edu/assets/pdfs/PCM/merechristianitylewis.pdf

Matthew 20:1-16 - Do You See Grace Clearly? - October 4, 2020

This parable has lots of moving parts, but if you boil it down to one basic truth, this parable is about seeing clearly. If you can’t see this, it’s not really your fault, it’s because you can’t see the original Greek. When the landowner asks are you envious because I am generous? He literally asks “is your eye evil because I am good?” While having an evil or envious eye is obviously dangerous for many reasons, the greatest danger is that it prevents you from seeing grace. So, do you see grace clearly?

One reason we may not see grace clearly and not understand Jesus’ warning is that we haven’t heard the context in which this parable is told. A rich young ruler had just left Jesus depressed and disappointed because he wasn’t willing to give up all his possessions to follow Jesus (Matthew 19:16-24). Then Peter pipes up. And if we’ve learned anything over the course of our past several months in Matthew’s Gospel – it’s that there’s at least a 50/50 chance that when Peter speaks he’s going to say something foolish. He lives up to that reputation here. He asks look, we have left everything and followed you! What then will we have? (Matthew 19:27) To call that a self-righteous and self-serving question would be putting it mildly. Peter actually had the gall to suggest that he and the other apostles deserved a greater reward than other disciples.

But if Peter’s question is shocking, Jesus’ answer is even more so. He doesn’t rebuke him, he rewards him: you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel (Matthew 19:28). Then Jesus provides an answer to any other disciple who may wonder “what’s in it for me?” Everyone who has left homes or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, because of my name will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life (Matthew 19:29). But doesn’t that answer just support the false idea that God’s blessings are based on merit? Well, perhaps, but it’s also the truth. Jesus has clearly promised that those who seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness will be given everything else they need for life as well (Matthew 6:33). However, just because Jesus does promise to reward his disciples doesn’t mean that getting them should be our goal. That was Peter’s problem. That’s why just before this parable and right after he issues the same warning: the last will be first, and the first, last.

Once we clearly see the context of the parable then we can clearly see the point of the parable. After you strip away all of the ornamental details, what is the main point? It’s not really about vineyards or hours worked or fair compensation. The heart of this parable is the question are you envious because I am generous? And this question is aimed directly at people like Peter, people like us, people who can be tempted to think that because we attend, serve, give or otherwise work in the kingdom we deserve a better reward – and thus forget that serving in God’s kingdom is a gracious privilege, not a meritorious obligation.

Scripture is clear: there are rewards in this life for following Jesus (Mark 10:29-30). Think of all the benefits we have right now as Christians. We are forgiven. We possess salvation. We know that Jesus is directing everything in this world for our good (Romans 8:28). We don’t fear death – whether it threatens to come as the result of Covid or some other way. We don’t get worked up or stressed out about presidential elections because we know that whoever is elected, Jesus reigns (Ephesians 1:21-22). And, as if that weren’t enough, Jesus has also given each of us a measure of health, wealth and happiness. Here’s the problem: we don’t all have the same level of health, wealth, or happiness. Some of us are remarkably healthy while others are chronically sick. Some of us have more money than we need and others never seem to have enough. Some of us are always cheerful while others are always depressed. And when we start to compare our lives to the lives of others – that’s when we’re in danger. That’s when an evil eye can cloud our vision and prevent us from clearly seeing God’s grace to us.

Here’s the thing about envy: it’s not really about other people. It’s about God. When those hired first in the parable grumbled, they weren’t grumbling against those who were hired last, they [grumbled] against the landowner. When I think that I’ve been given a raw deal, I’m alleging that God is unfair. “Why should the person who hasn’t given as much, served as much, done as much as I have get the same as me? Don’t I deserve more?” The point being: whatever you envy about any other Christian: the car they drive, the home they own, their health or children or happiness – you’re “evil eye” isn’t really aimed at them, it’s aimed at God.

And this kind of evil eye, this grumbling, isn’t without consequences. The landowner tells those who were hired first, those who had agreed to work for a denarius, those who grumbled, to take what is yours and go. They got the earthly reward they had bargained for but they didn’t get the heavenly inheritance of eternal life. They who appeared to be first in God’s kingdom, in the end, got themselves kicked out of it, damned to hell forever. Sadly, the first became last. This should put the fear of God into the heart of every believer.

Because the scary part is why they were dismissed from the kingdom. It wasn’t because they were too sinful. It wasn’t because they were lazy. It was because of their “evil eye.” Instead of continuing to see their Lord as a good and fair and generous master, they now saw him as evil – all because they didn’t get more than others, because they didn’t get as much as they thought they should. Do you clearly see the point of this parable yet? It’s not about how long you’ve worked; it’s not about what others have; it’s not about getting what you deserve – it’s all about the landowner: the Lord freely and generously hiring workers of all kinds at all times and giving them whatever he wants. It’s about grace. And the point of the parable is that if envy or an “evil eye” clouds your view of God as good and gracious, you put your salvation at risk.

And when we clearly see the parable’s context, when we clearly see it’s point, then we can clearly see how it applies to us. Just like every one of those workers – from the first to the last – we didn’t deserve to work in the Lord’s vineyard at all. Not one of us were born into this world as a part of God’s family, as members of his church, as disciples deserving of heaven. Paul reminds us that: like all the others, we were by nature objects of God’s wrath (Ephesians 2:3). We were all standing idly outside the kingdom like those workers. But because God couldn’t bear to leave us to die under his judgment, he came outside of his vineyard to get us. He took on our flesh and blood in Mary’s womb. God the Son became human. And by doing what we could never do, by keeping God’s commandments perfectly – and then by suffering what we deserve, both temporal and eternal death, Jesus won us the right to work in his Father’s vineyard.

But he didn’t stop there. He also came and got us; “hired” us to come and work in his Father’s vineyard. He came and got us by baptizing us in his name. He came and got us by sending a friend or parent or teacher to tell us about God’s great love for undeserving sinners. He came and got us by turning us on to a podcast or blog or church that preaches and teaches the pure truth of the Gospel. And this point is key: God is the one who gets the credit for bringing workers into his vineyard – not us. Just try going down to McDonald’s and act like you work there. Start taking orders, flipping burgers, taking out the trash – they’ll kick you out in no time. So it is in God’s kingdom. No one gets in by volunteering or deciding to take a job there. God himself, the owner, must bring you in (Ephesians 2:8-9). And he does this by baptizing, preaching and teaching to you.

But now you’re in! Now it’s up to you to stay in; it’s up to your effort to maintain your place in God’s kingdom, right? Wrong. Just as nothing but grace got you in…nothing grace keeps you in (2 Corinthians 1:21-22). But grace gets lost, grace gets rejected whenever we start thinking in terms of fairness, rights or justice. Because what is the fair compensation here in time and in eternity? Punishment. What rights do people like us, people who sin daily against a holy God, possess? The right to go to hell. What does justice look like for people who are guilty of crucifying the Lamb of God? Justice would be you and I looking longingly at Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lounging in the comfort of heaven while we weep and gnash our teeth in the endless torture of hell (Luke 13:28). Do you still want to base your salvation on what is fair or just?

So what’s the good news? Well, it’s not that you need to stop envying what God has given others that he hasn’t given to you. I could tell you that until I pass out, and it wouldn’t matter. Why not? Because as fallen, sinful creatures, we will always judge ourselves as more deserving than others. That demand would only lead to either despair or self-righteousness. Neither is the good news found in how you view your Lord. Again, I could demand that you view any of the time or money or effort you exert in God’s kingdom as nothing less than a privilege. But it won’t work. Each of us, myself included, will, in some sense, continue to view God with an “evil eye.” There will always be a part of us (the opinio legis) that sees our our service as a meritorious obligation – something we better keep doing if we want God to keep blessing us now and to give us heaven when we die. The good news is not that we must strive to change our “evil eye” or else. That would be hopeless; that would, in fact, be law.

The good news in this parable isn’t found in your eyes but in God’s eyes. The good news is in how God sees you. He made himself last so that you could be first. He stepped out of the vineyard so that he could bring you into it. But he didn’t just give you his place; he gave you himself: his righteousness, his holiness, his perfection (Colossians 3:10). So that now when God looks at you he sees Jesus. He sees you as patient, compassionate and forgiving. He sees you as never grumbling but always happy to be here in his house to hear his Word and receive his gifts. He sees you giving of your time, your talent and your treasure not looking for a “thank you” but as a way of saying, “Thank you, Lord!” He sees you going away from here with your denarius, whatever it may be – sickness or health, poverty or wealth, pain or pleasure – just as happy as a child who loses a tooth is pleased with a shiny new quarter. He sees you getting into your car, sitting down for supper, and looking at the roof over your head and saying: “Can you believe that God has given us all of this and heaven too?”

“But that’s not me,” you’re thinking. I’m not talking about what you are, but what God sees. God sees you washed in Baptism. He sees you declared forgiven in the Absolution. He sees Jesus in you as you receive his very body and blood. He sees you – whether you were hired first, last or in between – as not only a worker in his vineyard now but a rightful heir of his kingdom forever. No, that’s not what any of us deserve, but that’s what God has freely chosen to give us anyway. That’s not fair – that’s grace. Do you see that clearly now? Amen.

Matthew 18:21-35 - An Impossible Parable - September 27, 2020

“Really? Another sermon on sin and forgiveness? Isn’t two weeks in a row enough? Don’t we understand forgiveness by now?” When this text came up, those were my first thoughts…And then I read this parable. And then I realized that yes, we need to hear about forgiveness at least one more time. Because unless we see how impossible forgiveness is, we can’t truly understand it.

Jesus begins his parable by illustrating our impossible debt to God. Why does he have to do that? Don’t we already feel guilty enough? After all, we’re in church, aren’t we? No matter how badly we feel about our sins; no matter how often we pray forgive us our debts (Matthew 6:12); no matter how many nights we lay awake feeling guilty – not one of us thinks we owe God as much as we really do. Why not? Because there are so many other things that feel more pressing, that feel like bigger debts, bigger burdens than our debt of sin – things like mortgages and credit card bills, pandemics and presidential elections and judicial appointments. Jesus destroys the idea that our sins may be bad but not that bad by picturing our debt of sin as 10,000 talents. In ancient times, a talent was the largest unit of currency in circulation and 10,000 was the highest number used to count. (Kind of like when we say a “bazillion” to describe an indescribable amount.)

Debt-relief companies understand this. You’ve seen or heard their commercials, right? “Feeling like you’re drowning in debt?” “In over your head in debt?” “Buried in debt?” They understand that financial debt, though intangible, is a weight we can feel. Maybe you know and feel that weight in your life. But do you know and feel the weight of your sins? Do you truly recognize what you owe God? Do you understand that it’s an amount that you can never, ever repay? No matter how hard you try, how sincere you are, how good you appear in the eyes of others, you owe God more than you could repay even if you were able to spend an eternity trying.

But the skeptic in each of us argues: “That’s impossible. My debt can’t possibly be that much. I come to church every Sunday. I don’t cheat on my spouse. I love and take care of my kids. I’m not a terrorist, a pervert, a rapist, an unbeliever.” Maybe not. But neither was Peter. And it’s Peter to whom Jesus is telling this parable, telling him in no uncertain terms that his debt of sin amounts to 10,000 talents – an impossible debt to pay.

But our impossible debt to God is not the only impossible debt in this parable. He also informs us that the sins of others against us are impossibly small. They are represented as 100 denarii. To put that in perspective: there are 60 million denarii in 10,000 talents. In terms we can actually grasp: the amount we owe God is 60 million days’ wages; the amount others owe us is 100 days wages. Does that seem right? Tell that to the person who was abused for years as a child. Tell that to the wife who just found out that her husband has been cheating on her for months. Tell that to the parents who’ve just lost their child to a drunk driver. Are we really supposed to believe that the sins committed against us are a mere drop in the bucket compared to the ocean of our sins against God?

The world – and maybe your own gut – says “No!” The world believes that if you’ve been abused as a child, cheated on by a spouse, or otherwise sinned against in some horrible way – then you have license. If you’re a victim then you have a license to not believe in God, to be bitter against God – and above all, a license to not forgive. You have a license to hold on to the sins committed against you and rub them in everyone else’s face, saying, “Look at all the awful things that have happened to me, and tell me that I don’t have a right to be bitter, unbelieving and unforgiving.” I’ll admit, it’s really hard to disagree with that sentiment. But I should – because Jesus clearly does. His mathematical ratio is 600,000 to 1. Whatever hurt, pain, injury or sin against you that you’ve been nursing, holding on to, going back to is microscopic compared to your sins against God.

I told you this is an impossible parable. There’s impossible debt – one impossibly large and another impossibly small – and impossible responses to these debts. The first response puts to death any thought that we might have that our faith, our repentance, our sincerity is what causes God to forgive us. The servant fell down on his knees in front of him, saying, ‘Master, be patient with me, and I will pay you everything!’ This servant is clearly delusional. Rather than beg for mercy he begs for patience; instead of asking for forgiveness he asks for more time to pay a debt he could never pay. In spiritual terms, he believes he can make up his debt to God if he just has enough time. If you believe that, you’re not a Christian. And yet how does the king respond? The master of that servant had pity on him, released him, and forgave him the debt.

This servant is us. Long before we ever came to Christ; long before we ever started coming to church, giving to church, repenting or confessing Jesus as Savior, long before we realized that we could never pay our debt – God saw our impossible situation and had pity on us. He did the unthinkable, the impossible – he charged our debt to Jesus. Our debt of not trusting God to work all things – even bad things – for our good (Romans 8:28). Our debt of throwing God’s name around like an exclamation point. Our debt of not regarding God’s Word as holy and gladly hearing and learning it. Our debt of sins against authority, life, sexuality, property and reputation – God laid them all on Jesus. And Paul says in Colossians 2 that God erased the record of our debt brought against us by his legal demands. This record stood against us, but he took it away by nailing it to the cross (Colossians 2:14). And with his shout of it is finished (John 19:30) Jesus assures us that he has paid our debt in full.

Do you realize how impossible that is? I mean, aren’t we satisfied with so much less? Weren’t we happy to receive that stimulus check a few months back or a partial refund of our car insurance from the lock-down? But who of us wouldn’t prefer to have our mortgage and credit card debt completely forgiven. Of course no bank would ever do that – but that’s what God did! God had an impossible response to your impossible debt: he freely, preemptively, completely, permanently wiped it out, forgave it.

The forgiven servant also had an impossible response: he grabbed [his fellow servant who owed him one hundred denarii] [choked him] and threw [him] into prison until he could pay back what he owed. Can you believe this guy? How could a person who had been forgiven (if my math is correct) 164,384 years of work demand repayment of the 100 days owed to him? No one could be that merciless after receiving that much mercy, could they? The question is not really whether a person can be that merciless – we all know people who are – but how they can be that merciless? Only an unbeliever, only the person who doesn’t believe God has really forgiven his impossible debt can be this vindictive toward others. The person who doesn’t recognize the mercy he’s received from God hasn’t actually received it. He still thinks that God is eventually going to collect on his debt and he has no problem serving as a debt collector to others. It’s a fitting ending for this servant then to be thrown into prison until he could pay back everything he owed. In fact, it’s fitting that anyone and everyone be thrown into hell unless they forgive as they have been forgiven.

“But how? It’s impossible for me to forgive others as God has forgiven me!” That leads us to the last impossibility in this impossible parable: an impossibly happy ending. “Happy?” you may be thinking. “This parable doesn’t have a happy ending at all!” “What’s so happy about a master who was so angry that he handed him over to the jailers (really “torturers”) until he could pay back everything he owed? What’s so happy about Jesus’ clear warning that this is what my heavenly Father will also do to you unless each one of you forgives his brother from the heart?” It’s true God will accept nothing less than perfect forgiveness from you; nothing less than forgiveness than is on par with his own. None of this mumbled “Don’t worry about it.” None of this forgiving but not forgetting. No more of this thing that good, church going people like us are especially good at: pretending to be nice to our fellow Christians and yet deep down harboring grudges against them for something they’ve said or done in the past. That’s the truly impossible part, isn’t it? Forgiving as God has forgiven us.

Why? Why is it so difficult for we who have tasted God’s forgiveness to freely forgive others? Well, we often say things like “I can’t forgive them,” “I don’t feel like forgiving them,” “I don’t think I can forget what they’ve done.” But let’s be honest. It’s not that we can’t forgive, it’s that we don’t want to. Jesus gets there when he points out that forgiveness comes from the heart. (In the Greek mind, the heart was not the center of emotions but of the will; the seat of decision, not emotion.) Forgiveness is not an emotional act, it’s an act of the will. And for that, we need nothing less than a new heart.

How does one get a new heart? Only through the dramatic transplant surgery worked by Law and Gospel. In fact, this surgery is just what Jesus was performing in telling this parable. With the scalpel of the law he shows Peter and us that our situation is absolutely hopeless – that we owe God more than we could ever repay, that left to our own devices we are doomed. And then, once our old, sinful heart has been removed, he reveals to us the heart of God. A heart which freely and completely forgave our impossible debt – before and apart from anything we could do. Through faith in the Gospel, the Holy Spirit plants the very heart of God, a heart that sees each and every sin – both ours and others – as forgiven, inside of us.

You see, Peter was stuck on this idea that forgiveness was something to be measured, counted, and, eventually, limited. And in placing limits on God’s forgiveness, he was comfortable placing limits on his own. So Jesus teaches the two-fold lesson: if you want to start measuring sin, start with your sins against God and compare them to the sins of others against you. And, if you want to start measuring forgiveness, start with God’s forgiveness of your impossible debt before you begin measuring your forgiveness of others. And in both cases, you’ll see that there is no comparison.

And that’s how we reach the impossibly happy ending to this parable. Imagine that the servant who had been forgiven 10,000 turned around and forgave the one who owed him 100 denarii. Granted, the parable wouldn’t be quite as interesting – but that’s the point. Since God proactively and permanently removed sin from the picture on the cross of Calvary, he doesn’t want it to become an issue in our marriages, our homes, or our church. Don’t misunderstand, we will continue to sin against one another, but he wants those debts to cancelled as quickly as they come. He wants us to understand, like Joseph did (Genesis 50:19), that if Jesus has died for every single sin – then the sins others commit against us aren’t only insignificant, they are in fact non-existent. And when our marriages and homes and congregation are filled with forgiven sinners who are eager to forgive each other – then we will have the impossibly happy ending Jesus wants for us.

One final practical note. As we said above, forgiveness is not an emotion but a decision. Your feelings towards another person, your memory of what they’ve done may not change immediately when you forgive them. In fact, they may never change. You may have been hurt so deeply, so permanently that you will have to forgive that person every day for the rest of your life. That’s ok. If there’s one thing this parable makes clear it’s that God’s supply of forgiveness is unlimited. So when you feel your well of forgiveness running dry, come back here to the Word and Sacrament where your Lord will refill you with the boundless forgiveness that is already yours in Christ.

This is an impossible parable. Because of the impossible depth of God’s love for us he has forgiven our impossible debt of sins against him by the impossible sacrifice of his Son. Use God’s forgiveness as the lens through which you look at life. Through that lens you’ll see God’s forgiveness as huge, your sins as small – and the sins committed against you as not even worth mentioning. All because Jesus makes the impossible, possible. Amen.

Matthew 18:15-20 - Where Would We Be If... - September 20, 2020

Do you know anyone who has a tendency to ask a lot of “what if” questions? You know the kind of question: “What if I had chosen a different career path? What if we had chosen to purchase a different house? What if I had married someone else?” While we may consider “what if” questions to be the product of day-dreamers or people who have too much time on their hands, when God is in the picture, it can bring things into perspective: “Where would I have been if God hadn’t led me, against my will, down this path? Where would I be if God hadn’t brought this person into my life?” The text before us brings several “if” questions to mind.

First: where would we be if we didn’t hold each other accountable? In a world where the only universally recognized and condemned sin is intolerance, where would we be if we tolerated each other’s sins? Where would we be if we didn’t truly believe that unrepented and unforgiven sin in this life really damns a person for all of eternity (James 5:19-20)? Where would we be if Jesus had left us without any instructions as to what to do when a fellow believer falls into sin? Thankfully, Jesus hasn’t left us without instructions. He issues a clear command: if your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have regained your brother. But if he will not listen, take one or two others along with you. But imagine he hadn’t given that command – or more to the point, imagine if Christians disregarded and ignored it: where would we be then?

I’ll tell you where we’d be: we’d be lost in our sins and racing toward hell. That’s because the culture around us doesn’t believe that God, the Creator and Judge, has revealed a clear, absolute and unchanging standard of right and wrong which he expects all people live up to. In our society you can find someone, some movement, some Facebook group which excuses or even advocates for breaking every one of the Ten Commandments. You can find those who approve of every sin – idolatry, adultery, anarchy, despising the means of grace – and even those who support truly disgusting and destructive sins like abortion and transgenderism and the destruction of property justified as “reparations.” Neither the unbelieving world at large – nor your unbelieving friends – are going to warn you that sin leads to hell, so if your fellow believers don’t or won’t do it, no one will, and hell is where we would all be now and forever.

Where would we be if we didn’t hold each other accountable and where would we be if the church didn’t excommunicate open and impenitent sinners? Excommunication is what Jesus is describing when he says: if he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And, if he refuses to listen even to the church, then treat him as an unbeliever or a tax collector. It may come as a shock to some that faithful churches still believe and practice excommunication; that it’s not just a relic from some “less enlightened” period in church history. And yet, many Christians are hesitant – and even ashamed to practice excommunication. Why? Because when the church practices what Christ commands her to do in these verses, all hell breaks loose. And I mean that literally. All hell breaks loose because hell knows that excommunication is the most powerful tool the church possesses to rescue a person from eternal death.

We all need to repent of turning a blind eye to the sins of fellow believers we know personally – especially in our own families. But the church at large also needs to repent – to repent of failing to love her members enough to discipline them – up to and including excommunication. Because we all know that the failure to discipline always has terrible results. We’ve all known parents who have let their kids run wild – and we’ve seen the broken hearts and lives that result. We’ve all seen on TV what happens when local and state officials allow lawlessness to go unchecked and unpunished – and the smoking, burned-out, looted results. And, we’ve seen the results of churches that fail to exercise discipline: young people who never return to church after confirmation; rampant divorce and sexual immorality; division and false teaching, etc. Even though we confess that the church is to “[exclude] from the congregation those who are plainly impenitent that they may repent” [1] - the devil has been successful in convincing many that excommunication is unloving and intolerant and hypocritical. Why do you think the devil would try to convince Christians that Christ’s command is unloving? Because he doesn’t want anyone to be saved!

The failure of the church to excommunicate impenitent sinners as Christ commanded is a sin. A sin which has far-reaching implications. Not only does it harden the impenitent sinner in his sin – convincing him that it’s no big deal; not only does it lead other Christians to believe that their own pet sins are excusable; but when the church with her pastor refuses to use the binding key, it throws the entire administration of the Keys into question. In other words, if a pastor and the congregation refuse to exercise the binding key by excommunicating a manifest and impenitent sinner – can you trust it when he uses the loosing key, announcing the forgiveness of sins to penitent sinners? He’d only be doing half his job. Would you want a doctor, a lawyer, a car mechanic to do only half their jobs? How satisfied would you be if your cardiologist sent you home after completing only half of your surgery? And yet, the church (and many of her pastors) have been guilty of this systemic sin for years. This is a sin for which we all need to repent.

So, where would we be if we didn’t hold each other accountable? Where would we be if the church didn’t excommunicate the impenitent? To put it bluntly, we’d be in the hell that much of the visible church finds itself in today – where sin is excused and tolerated and – as a direct result – many can’t understand why Jesus had to suffer and die on a cross.

Which brings us to our last hypothetical: where would we be if the forgiveness spoken on earth wasn’t valid in heaven? Here’s a news flash (and I’m only half-kidding): Jesus lived his perfect life right here on this earth. He had to if he was going to be our substitute. He had to live under the same conditions and the same commandments God expected us to live under if it was really going to be in our place. He had to face the same temptations you do (Hebrews 4:15). He had to endure sickness, suffering and frustration just like you do (Hebrews 5:7) – and he had to do it all without ever sinning once.

And after Jesus lived a perfect life on this earth, he died, on this earth. He had to. There is no suffering or sadness or bleeding or dying in heaven (Revelation 21:4). But this is precisely what our sins deserve. When we think about all the people we’ve hurt, the lies we’ve told, the shameful, unspeakable things we’ve done, we know we should suffer for them – and we know that we couldn’t pay for them in 10,000 years. Because God is the one we’ve sinned against (Psalm 51:4). God is the one we’ve offended. God is the one we owe. And who but God can satisfy God? That’s why the Son of God had to suffer, had to endure hell, had to die in our flesh and blood. Jesus had to endure the wrath of God we deserved and he had to do it on earth.

And yet, while Jesus’ perfect life and innocent death took place on earth, atonement – that is, the actual payment for the sin of the world – took place in heaven. Hebrews 9 tells us that [Jesus] entered once into the Most Holy Place and obtained eternal redemption, not by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood (Hebrews 9:12). Jesus took his perfect life and his sacrificial death on earth into heaven and handed it over to God the Father as the payment for our sins. And his resurrection proves that God has accepted that payment – not only for our sins, but for the sins of the world (Romans 4:25; 1 John 2:2). But that begs the question: how does the forgiveness Jesus won for us in heaven come to us here, on earth? This is where the means of grace come in. What Jesus did for us in heaven is applied to us on earth by means of earthly things: water and words, bread and wine. And Jesus speaks specifically about the words by which the forgiveness of heaven is applied here on earth in our text: whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.

We just studied these words two weeks ago, so we won’t review them in detail again. But I will ask the question: do you know why accepting these words as true – that when sins are forgiven here on earth they are also forgiven in heaven – is so difficult for so many? It’s really simple. It’s because they don’t believe the rest of Jesus’ words: Amen I tell you again: If two of you on earth agree to ask for anything, it will be done for them by my Father who is in heaven. In fact where two or three have gathered together in my name, there I am among them. Many don’t believe that Jesus is really present in the Church on earth. They think Jesus is in heaven – far away from earth. They think that the best we can get is the Spirit – and that leads to doubt and uncertainty over where and when and how the Spirit is working. What if this were true? Where would we be if Jesus weren’t really present here among us with his powerful word of forgiveness? I’ll tell you one thing: I wouldn’t waste my time being here.

But he is here. He’s right here among us – what, 90 or so – who have gathered in his name. You’ve known this your whole Christian life – even if you haven’t always recognized it. You’ve heard the name of the Triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – invoked at the beginning of every worship service. You’ve heard that it is by Christ’s present and powerful authority that a sinful man stands before you and announces that your sins have been forgiven. You stand for the Gospel because you recognize these as the words and actions of your living and present Lord. You’ve had a shiver run down your spine whenever an infant was baptized in that font – not because it was so cute, but because you know that Jesus was bringing the saving power of heaven to bear on a lost sinner on earth. You’ve regularly approached the Lord’s Supper here with more preparation and forethought than any other meal you’ve ever eaten because you recognize that Jesus’ true body and blood – which he gave and poured out for you on Calvary 2000 years ago – is present here and now for you to eat and to drink.

And the fact that Jesus is really, truly present among us who are gathered in his name has a real and true impact on how we think of and treat each other – and how we think of and treat sin. Because Jesus doesn’t see our sin as “none of his business” neither will we. Because Jesus doesn’t regard it as impolite or meddling or mean to point out and rebuke sin, neither will we. Because Jesus regards no sin and no sinner to be too black, too filthy, too irredeemable to be forgiven – neither will we. Above all, since Jesus loved us enough to provide us – both as individuals and as a church – with this clear and firm and evangelical manner of dealing with sin – we will use it! We will hold each other personally accountable. We will publicly excommunicate the impenitent as the final, powerful act of love. We will regard the forgiveness spoken in private and in public in Jesus’ name as valid as if he had dealt with us himself.

Where would we be if Jesus hadn’t given us these words? Thank God we don’t have to wonder. Jesus has given us the obligation and the framework, the motivation and the authority to be his instruments in dealing with sin and saving souls from hell. All that’s left for us to do is use them. May God instill in us the love and the courage to do so. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

[1] SC The Public Use of the Keys

Matthew 16:21-26 - Divine Job Descriptions - September 13, 2020

It doesn’t always happen this way, but this year, Labor Day came at a time when work was definitely on the minds of many Americans. Millions have lost their jobs due to the pandemic and millions more have had their work schedules and routines thrown into turmoil. Parents and teachers and students are adjusting to a new normal when it comes to class work and homework. And to top it off we have two presidential candidates promising to put America back to work again. Since work is already on our minds, it’s fitting then that our text this morning draws our attention to job descriptions – divine job descriptions. Two of them: one for Jesus, one for us. Since we like to talk about ourselves, we’ll start with ours first.

Most earthly job descriptions are pretty boiler plate: they list the necessary qualifications, the desired skill-set, and the personal characteristics the employer is looking for. For employers who want to maximize their employee’s time and talents for their own benefit and profit – qualities like being ambitious, assertive, and productive are not only welcomed but demanded. Many think that’s how it is with the Church; that God “hires” you to produce for his Church. But this is unlike any earthly job description. The Christian’s job description requires no pre-qualifications – Jesus invites anyone…to follow him; it requires you to deny yourself – not assert yourself; it says take up a cross – not pick up a tool. And the only thing crosses are useful for producing is death. In addition, this divine job description says that we are to follow Jesus, not take a leadership role. And where does Jesus lead? To Jerusalem, not Disney World. To suffer, not to party. To be mocked, not praised. To be crucified and killed and then raised from the dead.

This job description goes against every natural instinct we have. We are wired from birth to try to save our lives, to advance our lives, to squeeze the most we can out of our 70 or 80 years of life. But Jesus says whoever wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. This paradoxical theme runs throughout Scripture. For example: when did Samson find his life? It wasn’t when he was the powerful and famous judge of Israel, hanging up Philistine pelts whenever he wished. It was when he was standing, bound and blinded, between two pillars and gave up his will, his desire to live in order to serve the Lord’s will. It wasn’t until Samson gave up his life that he found eternal life. Countless other passages confirm that the goal of the Christian is to lose his life: precious in the eyes of the LORD is the death of his favored ones (Psalm 116:15); blessed are the dead who die in the Lord (Revelation 14:13); for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain (Philippians 1:21). And have you ever noticed how frequently the theme of death is found in our hymns? How many of them point to death? How many even revel in death? Is there anywhere you hear about death more than the church? Whatever else may be involved in the Christian’s job description – the final goal is death.

Now if death is not what first comes to your mind when you think of taking up a cross, it’s because we’ve been taught to think of the Christian cross as merely a burden to bear. We say, “We all have to bear our crosses.” According to that expression, the cross is something to be endured, often something aggravating or painful in our lives – it’s not the ending of our lives. This comes out when someone is sick or suffering and says: “Yeah, but I just think about how many other people out there have it so much worse: wounded soldiers, victims of abuse, etc.” Or when we refer to our children or spouse or job as our cross to bear. Those sentiments make sense. They sound religious and wise. But we must realize that human wisdom is not necessarily divine wisdom. And that’s particularly true when it comes to the way of the cross.

As we said before, crosses produce only one thing: death. Picking up the cross does not merely refer to enduring a burden, a sickness, a problem, a challenge. It refers to crucifying, to killing, the self. God may certainly use burdens and challenges to kill the self, but they aren’t the same thing. You can endure a burden, a sickness, a problem – and keep the self very much alive. In fact, the self often thrives on suffering by taking advantage of the opportunity to claim victim status – something all-too-common in our culture. The self would choose anything, even suffering, over death. But the job description of a Christian is not just to endure suffering, it is to die.

What does this mean? What does it mean to deny, to, in fact, die, to self? First we have to understand what our sinful selves look like to God. They look like little children. You know how one of the first phrases every child learns is “me want”; how you can put two children in a room full of toys and they will inevitably fight over the same one? To God we look like selfish, demanding, bratty children – we’re just better at hiding it from others. By nature we all look after and love ourselves above all things. Therefore, to die to self means to crucify that innate desire. It’s not just learning to put up with not getting my way; it’s not wanting to get my way in the first place. That’s why this job is so difficult – it’s a living death. For example, God calls husbands to place the needs and desires of their wives and children above their own (Ephesians 5:25-33, 6:4). He calls wives to submit to their husbands (Ephesians 5:22-24). He calls children to honor and respect their parents (Ephesians 6:1-3). He calls citizens to honor, respect and even pray for those in authority – even when they are foolish and wrong (Romans 13:1-7). In a culture that glorifies the self, that exalts individual rights and privileges to do what I want to do or say, Christians are to be counter-cultural, to do the opposite, to put the self to death.

That’s our job as Christians: to die to self while carrying a cross. How’s that going for you? Is your mind always – 24/7 – on God’s will and on what others need and how you can satisfy that need? Me either. So, if keeping my job and getting into heaven depend on how dead my self is, I’m going to be fired; I’m not going to get in. I can no more put my self to death than I can hold my breath until I pass out.

Thanks be to God, then, that our salvation doesn’t depend on our dying on the cross. No, it doesn’t mean that we don’t need to work at it, to kill the sinful self every day through repentance. But we should be clear that when we’re talking about our job description, we are talking about sanctification – living a holy life; not about justification – being saved. And saving souls definitely not our job. Justification is Jesus’ job, and his job description reads accordingly:

Here’s Jesus’ job description: from that time (that is, from the moment the disciples, led by Peter, confessed his true identity) Jesus began to show his disciples that he had to go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders, the chief priests, and experts in the law, and be killed, and on the third day be raised again. These words, this mission statement – as it were, are the reason Jesus is no more popular today than he was in the first century. Jesus wasn’t sent into this world to build an impressive kingdom. He didn’t come to be a pop-culture icon or to be remembered by history as a great man. He didn’t come to start a revolution or to bring prosperity and jobs to the world. He came to suffer and die. This is what he had to do. Why? Two reasons. First, because it was his Father’s plan, formulated before the creation of the world (1 Peter 1:18-20).

Second, this is what Jesus had to do to save our souls from eternal destruction in hell. That was his job. His job wasn’t to save us from ever getting sick or from ever having family troubles or from ever going through financial, emotional, or career pain. His job was to save us – body and soul – for all eternity. To accomplish this job he had to go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from his enemies. The Roman whip had to rip through the flesh of his back to remove the burden of sin from ours. His blood had to drip from his broken body into the scales of God’s justice to outweigh and cover our guilt completely. He had to endure the full blast of God’s wrath to shield us from it. He had to be abandoned by his Father so that we never would be. Jesus’ job on this earth wasn’t to live, and certainly not to live life to its fullest, but to die – and that was God’s plan all along. That was how he planned to save us from the hell we deserved.

These two threads of our job and Jesus’ come together in verse 26: after all…what can a person give in exchange for his soul? What can we give to save our souls? Time, money, effort? Undergoing and enduring suffering, illness, challenges? Psalm 49 says no one can by any means redeem himself. He cannot give God a ransom for himself – (Yes, the ransom for their souls is costly. Any payment would fall short.) (Psalm 49:7-8) That’s why Jesus had to give what we never could: he exchanged his perfect life for ours (2 Corinthians 5:21); he gave God the only thing precious enough to buy back our souls – his holy, precious blood (1 Peter 1:18-19).

Jesus is why our job on earth is to die. Our job is dying while following Jesus because he has paid for our sin, saved our souls, and wants to give us more than the whole world could ever offer. This can’t be said often or clearly enough: our dying is not the cause of our salvation but its result. The result of being saved is that we die a little more each day as we focus more on Jesus’ death. As John the Baptist said so well: he must increase, but I must decrease (John 3:30). Peter didn’t like that focus. He thought it was an ugly, unpopular, negative message. He thought he knew a better way, that it didn’t have to end in death for Jesus. Peter didn’t think Jesus deserved punishment but mercy. If it were up to Peter, a throne, not a cross would be the instrument of Christ’s victory and the symbol of Christianity. He wanted Communion to proclaim the life, not the death, of Christ (1 Corinthians 11:26). He wanted Baptism to join us to Christ’s life, not his death (Romans 6:3).

But that’s not the way of the cross – that’s the way to hell. That’s Satanic talk. Satan doesn’t mind people and church’s focusing exclusively on a living and ruling and glorious Christ.  He loves it when churches focus on how much we are doing for Jesus. He loves it when pastors promise that great wealth and health and happiness will be yours if you follow Jesus. What he can’t stand is people and churches who talk about a Jesus who suffered and died for sins or Christians who follow him by dying to self because he was crushed by Jesus’ death and the sinful self is one of Satan’s most powerful allies, one he can’t afford to lose. And we are not immune from Peter’s Satanic thinking. We too can yearn and strive and work for glory instead of the cross. We too can think that all of our sacrifice, our time, our offerings ought to earn us God’s mercy and blessing. We can swell with pride over how many challenges we’ve overcome, how much suffering we’ve endured. That makes sense, it builds up our ego and our self-esteem. But it’s not the job of a Christian. That’s to focus only on the things of men. The job description of the Christian is to die. I know it doesn’t sound very ambitious, very empowering, or very American to say “not my will, Lord, but yours be done” (Matthew 26:39) – but that is what it means to be thinking the things of God. And the reason we will want to take this job is because Jesus promises that as we lose our lives, as we die to self in the service of God and others – that’s when we find true life, eternal life in him.

First the cross, then the crown; first death and then eternal life – that’s the way of the cross. That’s the job description assigned to Jesus and to us. And it’s one more reason we shouldn’t get too upset about the viruses, riots, violence, and elections of today. Our job is not to make the best of life, our job is not squeeze everything we can out of life or cling on to it with every ounce of strength – our job is to die to this life. And because Jesus finished his job 2000 years ago on Calvary (John 19:30), we can be sure that when our job of dying here is done, he will raise us to true, never-ending life in heaven. Amen.  

Matthew 16:13-20 - The Kingdom of Heaven has Keys! - September 6, 2020

The text before us presents an enormous challenge to any pastor. Do you know what that challenge is? How do you fit all of the doctrinal and theological gems found here into one sermon? You don’t. This text deserves a lifetime of study and a lifetime of sermons. So today we’re going to focus only on one verse of this text, verse 19. Verse 19 contains a very simple, yet incredibly profound truth: there are keys to heaven. The problem with keys, though, is that they can get lost. Who hasn’t lost their keys? Losing keys can ruin your day, your week, and your mood. It can be expensive to replace them. It can lead to fear that a bad guy may now have access to your car and your home. And, sadly, the keys of the kingdom of heaven can be lost, too.

The keys are lost in the Catholic Church. Jesus says that I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and yet the official Catechism of the Catholic Church says that these keys are not enough to open the gate to heaven. I quote: “Absolution takes away sin, but it does not remedy all the disorders sin has caused. Raised up from sin, the sinner must still recover his full spiritual health by doing something more to make amends for the sin: he must “make satisfaction for” or “expiate” his sins. This satisfaction is also called “penance.””[1] According to official Catholic doctrine, no one – not a priest, not the Pope, not even Jesus himself – can open heaven’s gates to you unless and until you pay for your own sins. Whether by purchasing an “indulgence” as in Luther’s day or saying a set number of “hail mary’s” or doing an act of charity in ours – you must do something to pay for your sins in order to open the gate of heaven. The keys in Catholic doctrine are like an Indiana Jones movie – they may get you through one door, but once through that door, you’ve got a bunch more hoops to jump through. They lose the keys in a heap of manmade rules here on earth.

On the other end of the spectrum, the theologically Reformed – that is, most Protestants who are not confessional Lutherans – have lost the keys in heaven. How does that happen? Well, if a person who comes from a Reformed background visits our church, do you know the part they would find most confusing and even offensive? Not the formal liturgy, not the old hymns, not even the funny gown the pastor wears. They are confused and offended when the pastor says: “I forgive you all your sins.” John Calvin, the father of Reformed theology and a contemporary of Martin Luther, refused to acknowledge that Christians have the authority to forgive. He and his theological offspring argue just like the experts in the law of Jesus’ day: who can forgive sins except God alone? (Mark 2:7)[2] A pastor is permitted to say or pray, “May the almighty and merciful Lord grant you forgiveness,” but not, “I forgive you.” Like locking your keys in your car, the Reformed lose them in heaven – they might have a vague idea of where they are, but they can’t use them.

How about Lutherans? We have them, right here, right now, on earth. We are like those people who wear their keys on a lanyard around our necks. They are part of our identity. We confess in our Catechism that “we receive absolution or forgiveness from the pastor as from God himself, not doubting but firmly believing that our sins are thus forgiven before God in heaven.”[3] We take Jesus at his word – no more and no less. He says here, a few chapters later in Matthew 18:18, and in John 20:23 that he gives the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven to his Church on earth. He authorizes and commissions his Church to declare his forgiveness to penitent sinners. And yet, while we haven’t lost the keys on earth or in heaven, but we can still lose them. We lose them by not using them, by taking them for granted, by neglecting them and getting bored with them. We lose them when we’d rather focus on the keys to good health, to great wealth, to a better marriage, or to a “Christian” view of politics than the keys to heaven. We Lutherans may not have lost the keys of heaven in our official doctrine – but it is also true that we can easily lose them in practice, when we see the goal, the job, the mission of the church as anything more or less than to forgive or not forgive sins. And for that, we must repent.

Everyone has lost their keys at one time or another, and everyone has found them. We all know the incredible sense of relief – and even joy – that accompanies finding lost keys. Jesus helps us find – or rediscover – the keys to heaven. Jesus refers to keys, plural, here because he’s talking about one that binds sins on people and therefore locks heaven and one that looses sins from people and therefore opens heaven. And yet, while it’s helpful for us to think of two keys – one to lock and one to unlock – there is only One who has rightful possession of these keys. Isaiah prophecies about him: I will place the key of the house of David on his shoulder. Whatever he opens, no one will shut. Whatever he shuts, no one will open (Isaiah 22:22). He’s referring, of course, to Jesus.

The question is: what is it that locks people out of heaven? The Law. The Law lays an impossible burden on us: love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:37, 39); and be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect (Matthew 5:48). Only a perfect life lived under the law could open heaven. That’s not my life. Is it yours? Has there ever been a single day, a single hour in your life that was good enough to unlock heaven? Rest assured: Jesus’ life was. Every minute, hour and day of his life was perfect. He loved God and loved his fellow man perfectly. He didn’t always treasured God’s Word, he never disrespected those in authority, never hated, lusted, spoke falsely or coveted. As true God and true man he lived a perfect life and therefore won the keys to the kingdom of heaven.

But there are two locks on heaven’s gates. One lock was the Law demanding perfect obedience. The other was the Law requiring complete payment for sin. The Law required suffering and bleeding, crying and dying as the payment for sin. Regardless of what many may think and say – sin is a serious thing. This knowledge of sin’s severity is innate in every human being. If a white police officer shooting a black man is serious enough that one protester in Kenosha would say, and I quote, “If you kill one of us, it’s time for us to kill one of yours”[4]; if when we are sinned against we don’t think it’s too much to demand satisfaction, to demand payment, to want that person to suffer; then how much more offended do you think our holy God is when we sin against him – willfully, knowingly, repeatedly? If “I’m sorry; I’ll do better,” doesn’t satisfy your anger – why would we think it could satisfy God’s wrath?

You can be as sorry as you want; promise to do better next time; punish yourself with guilt and sadness and pain; sacrifice all the time and money and energy you can and you still won’t drain one ounce out of the cup of God’s wrath. (Incidentally, this is why it’s so important that we identify Jesus as no less than the Christ, the Son of the living God.) Only God can satisfy God. Only God can pay for sins against God. So God the Son took on flesh and blood – not only so that he could keep the Law perfectly in your place, but so that he could sigh, cry and die in your place. Because the blood, sweat and tears that flowed from his tortured body were the blood, sweat and tears of God (1 Peter 1:18) they were holy and they could cover and atone for the sins of the world (1 John 2:2). By living a perfect life under the Law, Jesus won the keys to heaven. By satisfying God’s wrath by his death, Jesus won the right to give us the authority to use the keys.

The most frustrating part about losing your keys isn’t just the fact that they’re lost – it’s that you can’t use them. Most keys have no inherent value apart from their proper use, and so if you can’t use them to get into your house or office or start your car, they’re worthless. Now that we’ve found the keys of heaven, we can and should use them. Jesus lived and died and rose to win them so that we would use them.

First, though, let’s make sure that we understand what Jesus is promising in these words: I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. These verbs can be correctly translated in two ways. First, translated will be bound…will be loosed emphasizes that the church’s verdict is valid and will remain valid in heaven because the church is using the authority the Savior gave her to forgive or not forgive sins. Second, translated will have been bound…will have been loosed emphasizes that the church’s verdict to the individual rests on the prior verdict God has declared for the whole world on the basis of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection (Romans 4:25). Either way you translate it, the authority Christ gives his church is astonishing. It’s the greatest authority anyone on earth can have: to either open or close heaven, eternal life, to a person. Legislators can write laws; judges can punish; police officers can arrest – but only Christians, in the name and by the power of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God can open eternal life or condemn to eternal death. How could any community service project or sermon series on parenting or social gathering compare with that eternal power? How could we ever lose our focus on the church’s main mission – to use and administer the keys? How could we ever let anything else get in the way? This is why you are here; this is both the purpose and the foundation of the church: to forgive or not forgive sins; to open or lock the door to heaven.

Christ commands us to use this astonishing authority and privilege in three ways: publicly, privately and personally. The very first thing we do each and every Sunday is confess our sins and then hear these words from the pastor: “Therefore, as a called servant of Christ and by his authority, I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Don’t let these familiar words go in one ear and out the other. These are precious words. These are eternal life giving words. These are words of pardon and acquittal – for you! But the devil hates these words; he tries to get in between you and the comfort God wants you to have in them. He tries to convince us that these words don’t apply to this or that sin. He whispers in your ear, “If your pastor really knew what you’ve done he would never forgive that sin.” And that’s why we continue the practice of private confession. Now, I know we still struggle under the shadow of Catholicism in which private confession is typically viewed as done for God’s sake – not the sinner’s; as an obligation rather than a privilege; as something you must do if you want to be forgiven. But for confessional Lutherans the emphasis is on the absolution, not the confession. You don’t come to private absolution to have more guilt, more shame, more obligations piled on – but rather to hear that Jesus has lifted the burden of sin and guilt from your shoulders and sent them away on the cross. Come to confession to hear privately and confidentially that because of Jesus, your personal sins – big and small – are forgiven; that heaven is open to you!

But don’t take that too far – don’t think that there is something special about pastors, that they alone have the right to forgive sins. In fact, the reason that I stand up here and declare your sins to be forgiven is because through the divine Call you have asked me to use your keys on your behalf. But it remains true that Jesus gave the keys to the whole church. He tells to all of his disciples – not just the apostles – in Luke 17: if your brother sins, rebuke him. If he repents, forgive him (Luke 17:3). You are to use the keys with each other – with your children, your spouse, your parents, your siblings, your friends, and yes, with your pastor. When someone confesses that they have sinned, don’t just say “That’s ok; no problem; don’t worry about it; forget it.” Say, intentionally and with all sincerity: “I forgive you.” That is your privilege as a Christian. That is the authority Jesus lived and died and rose to give to you! Your absolution unlocks heaven just as much as any pastor’s. So use that key!

The key to heaven, Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, came to earth in flesh and blood to win the keys of heaven for all and he gave them to Christians to use privately and through them to pastors to use publicly. There is no greater power or privilege in the world. May the keys we have in our possession be blindingly shiny and polished from being used so much. Amen.

[1] https://www.vatican.va/archive/ccc_css/archive/catechism/p2s2c2a4.htm

[2] https://churchsociety.org/blog/entry/formulary_friday_gods_absolution

[3] SC Confession part 1

[4] https://www.kenoshanews.com/news/local/watch-now-kenosha-speaker-strays-from-message-at-rally/article_a91e142b-46bf-5702-bb45-42b2015ce4b6.html

Matthew 15:21-28 - Jesus Grooms Great Faith in Hard Times - August 30, 2020

If the old adage is true that bad news “sells” better than good news, then now is a great time to be in the news business isn’t it? There is definitely no shortage of bad news. The ongoing coronavirus epidemic, fires raging out of control in California, hurricane Laura, a derecho which leveled large areas of already flat Iowa, yet another officer involved shooting in Kenosha which resulted in the now-expected rioting, destruction and looting – oh, and did you know it’s a presidential election year? What are we to make of these hard times? Ultimately we should make of them what the Canaanite woman made of her demonized daughter; that we learn to see how Jesus grooms great faith even, and especially, in hard times.

If we’re going to learn that lesson, we can’t miss the hard times. And you’re thinking “How could you? The hard times are plastered on every mainstream and social media outlet in the world, how could anyone miss them?” You can miss them if you don’t make of them what the Canaanite woman made if hers: an occasion to run to the Lord and plead for his mercy. And that can easily happen if we view bad news from a purely worldly, secular perspective. When Christians do that, it’s called practical atheism – living as if God is not God at all; that the God we claim to worship in here has no active role in the world out there. For example, the world alleges that hurricanes and wild-fires and derechos are nothing more than the results of man-made climate change. That the coronavirus is nothing more than a mistake made in a lab in Wuhan, China or an unsavory leftover of a bad bat stew. That the wide-spread rioting which has consumed our nation is nothing more than the result of institutional, systemic racism. To the unbelieving world, God has nothing to do with these crises; he can’t possibly be speaking through these things; he can’t be speaking from out of the hurricanes, as he did to Job (Job 38:1); he can’t be teaching us anything about ourselves through the mirror of societal division and upheaval (1 Kings 12:24; Amos 3:1; 5-6; Luke 13:5; James 5:1-6). And of course the unbelieving world can’t believe that because, by definition, the unbelieving world doesn’t believe in God.

At the same time, Christians, and especially confessional Lutherans, are very cautious to suggest that God is sending a specific and unique message through a particular natural disaster or tragedy. And there’s a good reason for this. Ever since the time of the apostles, there have been false teachers who have claimed to know exactly what God is saying through particular current events – most often that it is a sign that the End is near. These teachers have mislead and damaged the faith of many – when their prophecies are proven wrong. We are rightly skeptical of anyone who says “This is what the Lord says” regarding any contemporary event when Scripture is silent. Anyone who says that is claiming to have received a message from God outside of Scripture, and once you go down that path you can say absolutely anything and claim that it is the Word of the Lord. That’s dangerous. That’s blasphemy (Revelation 22:18-19).

So let’s not go there. Instead, let’s go to our text; to a mother whose daughter is being terrorized by demons – and whose prayers are ignored by Jesus. Because, let’s face it, there are times when we are crying out to the Lord for help and it feels like he’s just ignoring us, excluding us, insulting us. Jesus’ interaction with this Canaanite woman is a portrait of all Christians of all time who feel like they’re getting the cold shoulder from God – and how he can use that for our good. And the first thing we need to notice is that when this woman was struck with the crisis of a demonized daughter, what did she do? She ran to Jesus. She knew and believed that Jesus was big enough to handle this situation. The question is: do we believe that he is big enough to handle our troubling situations? Do we see hard times as opportunities to plead for his mercy? If we don’t, we are acting like practical atheists; like unbelievers – and our faith will not, cannot grow.

If these current hard times can be explained by meteorology and geology and politics and economics and systemic racism then why would you turn to the Lord for help like this mother did? If God is not the one who sends fire and hail, snow and fog, and storm winds as Psalm 148 says, why turn to him when wildfires rage and winds roar (Psalm 148:8)? If our lives and livelihoods – not to mention our childrens’ education and future – are just in the hands of some power-hungry bureaucrats and elected leaders – and the Lord doesn’t really rule the kingdoms of men (Daniel 4:17), why would you throw yourself at his feet as the woman did in our text? If all authority in heaven and on earth (Matthew 28:18) haven’t really been given to Jesus, then why come to him at all?

If, however, you conclude with the mother in our text that any and every hard time you face in life lies in the hands of the Lord – then you will keep crying out in prayer like she did. You will call upon him in your days of trouble (Psalm 50:15) even when he doesn’t answer you or gives you the opposite of what you’re asking for. You will keep on asking, seeking and knocking (Matthew 7:7-8) like this woman did even when Jesus treated her like you would never treat your dog. I’ve never owned a dog, but I’ve seen dogs beg for food kind of like this woman did. They start at a distance, they slowly get closer and closer, they make that whining, moaning sound, they paw at your leg, they put their head in your lap and give you those big puppy dog eyes. When they do that, I can’t imagine any pet owner slapping their nose the way Jesus slapped away this woman. But she kept coming – and that’s the first element of great faith – persistence in coming to Jesus; persistence grounded in the fact that all our times – and all our hard times – are in his hands.

But where does faith like that come from? Faith that persists in spite of being ignored and treated like a dog? It does not come from us (Ephesians 2:8-9). Great faith is not the result of our feelings, intellect or effort. Faith that comes from us is all-too-often no more than positive thinking, looking on the bright side, seeing a silver lining in every storm cloud, making lemonade from lemons, telling ourselves that others have it worse than we do. Faith that comes from us finds hope in weather forecasts, in declining unemployment and a rising stock-market, in getting “our guy” elected into office. But man-made faith doesn’t lead anyone anywhere, does it? Except perhaps to cynicism or despair. It certainly doesn’t lead anyone to Jesus. If this Canaanite mother had man-made faith, she wouldn’t be on her face in front of Jesus begging for help. No, she’d be looking on the bright side; she’d be foolishly thinking that everything will turn out all right in the end – including her demonized daughter.

This woman didn’t have man-made but God-made faith. Where did that come from? The Bible is clear that faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is comes through the word of Christ (Romans 10:17). What “word of Christ” woman heard? Even way up in the pagan lands of Tyre and Sidon she had apparently heard about his words and deeds that proved that he was the Lord and so that’s what she appeals to. She doesn’t base her request on her great need or her great worthiness but on who Jesus is. Three times she calls him Lord – acknowledging that everything – even her daughter’s demonization – are in his hands, and that what he says is authoritative. Great faith means knowing who Jesus is and taking his Word as authoritative, as the last word.  

For us to have Jesus as our Lord means believing the Law. The Law which says that we deserve far worse pandemics than we are experiencing right now. The Law which says that we deserve no relief from the riots and violence that are tearing apart our nation because his Law says that sinners deserve only wrath and punishment (Romans 6:23; Ephesians 2:3). Not one of us can call God unfair, not one of us can claim injustice when we get what our sins deserve: including hurricanes and pandemics and riots and cancer and disruptions to our lives and schedules and careers – for we deserve much worse. Therefore, when hard times strike, Christians see this as the Lord’s call to repentance, and quickly agree with the Law through repentance (Luke 13:4-5).

But, thank God, having Jesus as Lord means we also believe the Gospel. That he does not treat us as our sins deserve. He does not repay us according to our guilty deeds (Psalm 103:10). That God made him, who did not know sin, to become sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him (2 Corinthians 5:21). The good news is that because Jesus endured the punishment we deserved both now and eternally, we can be sure that no matter how hard the times, God is not punishing us for our sins (Romans 8:1). Because God had no mercy on his Son on the cross, we can be sure that he has nothing but mercy for us. That because we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God and can boldly and persistently pray to him for Christ’s sake (Romans 5:1-3).

That’s great faith. Great faith says “Yes” to both Law and Gospel. Luther says that like this Canaanite woman we must “say God is right in his judgment which he visits upon us” because “then we have triumphed and caught Christ in his own words” (Luther’s Church Postil 1.2:148). What does this mean? How does confessing our sinfulness catch Jesus in his own words? Because when we agree with the Law’s verdict that we are wretched sinners, then we can say, “And Lord, you said yourself that [you] did not come to call the righteous, but sinners (Matthew 9:13). Did you catch how the woman did this? He called her a dog and so she responds yes, Lord, yet their little dogs also eat the crumbs that fall down from their masters’ table. She humbly and honestly identifies herself as a sinful dog, but she catches Jesus in his identity as a Lord who is so powerful and so generous that just a crumb from his table is enough to save.

She was confident of this because she knew Jesus not only as her Lord but as the Son of David. This is a title for the Christ, the Messiah, the Redeemer – the One God sent to redeem not just Israel, but the world (Isaiah 49:6) – and she knew that just one crumb from his table of salvation would be enough for her. While there’s no guarantee in Scripture that when we pray for relief from hard times, we will receive it – when we come here, we are guaranteed to receive more than crumbs. While just one drop of baptismal water gives eternal life, Jesus gives us the whole font! While one word forgives the sins of a lifetime, Jesus gives us his Absolution every day and every week! While there is enough forgiveness, life and salvation in just a drop and crumb of the Lord’s Supper, Jesus invites us to pull up a chair at his table and feast on his body and blood week after week until he returns. Natural disasters don’t show how Jesus truly feels; the water of baptism does. Words from a doctor about disease don’t show Jesus’ true face; his own words do. The hard times we face in this life don’t show us the character of Jesus, the body and blood he shed on the cross and gives us here on this altar do. Great faith doesn’t come from how we react to hard times out there, but on receiving our Lord’s grace through Word and Sacrament here.

I suppose the big question we haven’t answered yet is: Why? Why does Jesus treat people this way? Why does he sometimes appear deaf and distant? Why does it sometimes feel like his love and his salvation are for other, better people, and not for us? Why does he sometimes appear to insult us, like he did this woman? Because that is how he grooms great faith. Like a child holding his parents to their promises – the Lord loves it when we hold him to his Word. Luther described it as God’s “yes” hidden inside his “no.”[1] In other words, when the Lord we see in the world doesn’t match the Lord we see in the Word – what are we compelled to do? To dig deeper in his Word, to cling harder to his promises, to be even more persistent in prayer! And when hard times drive us deeper into his Word, then, under his careful grooming, our faith, too, will become “great.”

So, what should we make of the hard times that are happening in our world, our nation, our community, and our families? We should understand that because hard times are in the Lord’s hands we should run and cling to him in prayer and we should understand that when the Lord we see in life doesn’t match the Lord we hear in the Word – he is driving us ever deeper into his Word. Through this often hard and always mysterious process, he grooms great faith even, and especially, in hard times. Amen.

[1] Lenker, J. N. The Complete Sermons of Martin Luther (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House Company, 2000) 1.2:153

Matthew 14:22-33 - This Is Us - August 23, 2020

This Is Us is a popular television drama on NBC where the entire premise of the show is that anyone and everyone can relate to the situations the characters face. You’re led to laugh with them and cry with them, suffer with them and triumph with them, etc. You may have never seen the show and you may or may not agree with how effective that premise is, but that’s not important. What is important is that as we study this text, we see that this is us.

This story takes place immediately after Jesus had fed the five thousand (Matthew 14:13-21). Having done something impossible, Jesus now does something seemingly irresponsible – he forces his disciples to set sail on the Sea of Galilee as night is falling and a storm is gathering on the horizon. Why? I can find two reasons. First, to a certain extent, Jesus was protecting his disciples from the popular sentiment of the crowds. Having had their bellies filled for free, they were hungry for more; they were ready to make Jesus their bread king by force (John 6:15). And Jesus knew how tempting achieving that kind of political power and prestige would be to his disciples – and so he made them get into the boat and go to the other side of the Sea. The second reason is given in Mark: they had not understood about the loaves. Instead, their hearts were hardened (Mark 6:52) – they still didn’t understand that the feeding of the five thousand wasn’t just about feeding the hungry but about proving his identity and power. But they still didn’t get it and so Jesus sends them to school in a boat on a storm tossed sea.

This is us. The Bible is clear that the Lord frequently leads believers into scary, dangerous, troubling situations – situations we wouldn’t normally put ourselves into. Think of Joseph or Job or Moses (Genesis 45:8; Job 42:11; Exodus 3). These storms occur at every stage of life, don’t they? Even our young children today are facing a storm – the storm of being forbidden to attend school in person and forced to try to learn virtually. When Christians reach college, they face storms on at least two fronts: the immorality of their classmates and the antagonism of their unbelieving professors. The young couple who comes to the clinic with joyful hearts to see their child’s first ultrasound who leave with hearts broken by the news that their daughter will be born with a birth defect. The father who has lost his job due to the coronavirus and can’t see how he can keep paying the mortgage. Or person who hears the doctor sigh and say, “There’s nothing else we can do. You have three to sixth months to get your things in order.” Now, many may argue that God can’t really be behind these hard, troubling times, these storms of life. But if we truly believe what Scripture says: that the Lord has determined the appointed times and the boundaries where [we] would live (Acts 17:26) – then we must confess that our Lord is responsible for sending us to school in the stormy seas of life, too. This is us.

At the same time, the disciples aren’t helpless. They weren’t in a dinky canoe, they were in a boat designed to weather the storms on the Sea of Galilee. At least four of them were experienced commercial fishermen who knew how to handle a vessel in rough seas. And here’s the thing, Matthew makes it crystal clear that it wasn’t the wind and the waves or even their lack of progress that caused them to be terrified and [cry] out in fear. It was the fact that someone was walking on the water combined with the knowledge that humans can’t walk on water. Jesus was the source of their fear. They were suffering from a lack of recognition.

This is us. There are many storms of life that we feel fully qualified to handle – even if we wouldn’t necessarily seek to handle them. We can usually deal with a sick child, a couple days or weeks of furlough, a few more months of “virtual” school, another round of cancer treatment, even the death of a loved one – just as long as they come at us one at a time. It’s when they storm on us all at once that we become overwhelmed. And, it’s often at those moments that we don’t recognize Jesus coming to us – walking calmly over the stormy seas to save us. It’s at those times when we can actually be afraid of him – because instead of recognizing our good and gracious Savior we see a mysterious and shadowy figure. And when we don’t recognize who Jesus is and what he can do – that’s when we are in the greatest danger of sinking.  

The disciples failed to recognize who Jesus is and what he is able to do. But having seen the power of his miracles, they had no excuse. Neither do we. We too have witnessed the power of Jesus calmly walking over the storms of life, coming to us week after week in the means of grace. He has revealed his identity and his power to us, too. He shows us that he can do the impossible; like create everything from nothing (John 1:3), be born of a virgin (Luke 1:31, 34-35), live a perfect life (Hebrews 4:15), die for the sins of the world (1 John 2:2) and rise again to life (Romans 1:4). No mere man can do these things. We have no excuse for doubting, for failing to recognize Jesus as he comes to us miraculously through the Word and Sacraments.  

But we still do, don’t we? We still fail to recognize Jesus and doubt his power and presence. Sometimes it’s because we think we can handle the storms of life on our own and don’t believe we really need Jesus’ help. Sometimes it’s that we really are overwhelmed, but we don’t think that Jesus’ presence in Word and Sacrament will really help; that they seem powerless compared to the very real storms of life. Does the water of baptism – which promises life – ever seem to be no match for the personal, professional, medical, financial, spiritual or emotional storms we face? Do the words of Absolution ever seem as powerless to silence your accusing conscience as any of the other remedies you’ve tried? Does Holy Communion ever seem to be nothing more than a placebo which only works if you think it will work?  

What should we do when we come to those dangerous intersections of fear, doubt and faith? How should we react? Well, how did Peter react? The question is whether we should translate the first word of Peter’s question (εἰ) as “if” or “since.” Grammatically, it could go either way. Let’s go with “if” for a moment. Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water. That’s a pretty weak start, isn’t it? Why is there any doubt in Peter’s mind? Not only has he witnessed the feeding of the five thousand, not only is he standing there on top of the water, but Jesus has just told him It is I (which is an allusion to the Lord’s identification of himself in the Old Testament as I am (Exodus 3:6, 14)).

Is this us? Do we doubt and question Jesus’ presence, power and love until he proves himself? Jesus says that only an evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign (Matthew 16:4) – but don’t we frequently expect one anyway? “Jesus, if you really do create faith and new life through the water of Baptism, then prove it by bringing my wandering children back into the fold.” “Jesus, if it really is your voice speaking in Absolution, then prove it by taking away the painful consequences of my sin.” “Jesus, if your body and blood really are the medicine of immortality, if they are powerful to heal body and soul, then take this chronic pain, this debilitating disease from me.” It’s a sin to put God to the test (Deuteronomy 6:16). But when we say with Peter “Lord, if it is you,” that’s exactly what we’re doing.  

Is “since” any better? Let’s try that out. “Since” means that Peter does believe that this ghostly figure on the water really is Jesus, the Son of God. With “since” Peter is demonstrating his characteristic impulsiveness that puts him before the other disciples and almost always ends badly for him. Remember, Peter was the first to boldly confess that Jesus is the Christ (Matthew 16:16) but only moments later Jesus tells him to get behind me, Satan (Matthew 16:23). He’s the first to pledge that he would never deny Jesus (Matthew 26:33), and he’s the only one to deny him three times (Matthew 26:69-75). And here? Well, here Peter’s bold faith worked just fine right up until he took his eyes off of Jesus and became distracted by the winds and the waves.

Is this us? Do we rush out those doors strong in faith and forceful in prayer? Are we convinced that “since” we believe Jesus is the Son of God, that he can do whatever we want whenever we want? “Jesus, since I believe it is you, I know you are in control and I won’t become distracted or frustrated by the political madness, the lawlessness and lovelessness I see in the world.” “Jesus, since I believe it is your Word connected with water in Baptism I won’t ever doubt my place in the Father’s family.” “Jesus, since I believe it is your voice in the absolution, I will no longer be enslaved to sin.” “Jesus, since I believe it is your crucified and resurrected body and blood that I receive in Communion, I will never fear pain or disease or death.” But it doesn’t take long for the storms of life to rattle even the boldest believer to the core. “Since” I believe is not a firm foundation to build on. It’s faith in faith. And, like Peter, when our faith is in our faith, we will quickly sink when the storms of life arise.

This is us – perpetually wavering between “if” and “since”; between doubt and boldness. Whether you are saying “if” or “since” when it comes to Jesus’ presence in your life through Word and Sacrament, you’re looking in the wrong direction. When you’re looking for proof in your outward circumstances or strength inside yourself – you’re, by definition, not looking to the object of your faith. That was Peter’s problem; that’s why he sank. That’s what Jesus meant when he said you of little faith, why did you doubt? Peter’s faith wasn’t little because it wasn’t bold enough – why else would he dare to step out of a perfectly good boat? No, Peter’s faith was little because he doubted the power of Jesus’ one word of promise: come. Jesus had become “little” in his mind.

The good news is that, taken as a whole, this miracle directs us away from looking either outside or inside ourselves, away from asking either “if” or “since.” The climax of this miracle is not Jesus forcing his disciples into the boat – or forcing us into the storms of life; it’s not Jesus leaving them alone for eight hours – or leaving us alone for what may seem like eight weeks, months or years; it’s not even Jesus’ walking on the water – or his real, miraculous, coming to us in Word and Sacrament. No, the good news, the climax, the take-away from this miracle is that the moment Peter cried out Lord, save me!, Jesus stretched out his hand and saved him.

This is us! Whether Peter meant “if” or “since,” had he not gotten out of the boat, he never would have cried out Lord, save me! (Which is the purest, strongest proclamation of faith possible!) He never would have personally experienced his own weakness and his Savior’s power and love. It was not until Jesus forced him to face a stormy night on the sea and invited him to step out on the water, and let him sink into the waves that Peter’s faith was focused where it needed to be the whole time: on Jesus. Only by allowing Peter to realize the weakness of his faith and to despair of himself was Jesus able to strengthen his faith in the power of his Word. Because if Jesus says it, it’s as good as done; it cannot and will not fail. When the storms of life hit, don’t look at your outward circumstances, don’t look inside for strength – instead lock your eyes on Jesus and his Word, which are the source of strength that can do impossible things.

We may or may not be able to see this play out in our lives like we can in Peter’s. But this is us anyway. We don’t need to understand why the Lord forces us into situations in which every wind of life seems to be against us. We only need to know that Jesus put us in that boat, he knows where we are, and he is with us the whole time – even when we don’t recognize him. We don’t need to understand how Jesus can come to us in Word and Sacrament just as the disciples didn’t need to understand how he could walk on water. We just need to take him at his word when he says It is I! We don’t need to fret about getting out of the perpetual cycle between “if” and “since” – we only need to see and believe that it’s not what we see around us or inside us that saves us but the hand of Jesus. In the end, if this were a TV show, we’d have to rename it. This isn’t about us. This is about Jesus, the true Son of God, whom we worship. Amen.

Matthew 14:13-21 - You Don't Need to Go Away - August 16, 2020

Having spent three weeks on Jesus’ parables, we now turn to three weeks of his miracles. We begin with perhaps the most famous miracle in the Bible: the feeding of the five thousand. The details are known by every Sunday school student: Jesus fed thousands of people with five loaves of bread and two fish. The question is: what is this miracle really about and what does it have to do with us today? The disciples, when faced with a very real, very earthly problem, concluded that the only solution was to send the people away from Christ. Since the Bible says that the Church is the body of Christ (Ephesians 4:15-16) this miracle is about staying away from church. Sadly, many still today think that when they are facing challenges in life the solution is to stay away from church. “No one at church knows or cares about my problems anyway, so why go?” “My marriage is on the rocks and I need fix that relationships before I come back to church.” “We’re struggling financially and I need to pick up more weekend hours or a second job – so church will have to wait.” Or: “I feel like it’s too risky to come to church during this pandemic, and so I’m going to stay away until the experts say I can come back or there is a proven vaccine.” And so it is very important that we listen as Jesus explains why worldly troubles should drive us to not away from church; why we don’t need to go away.

“You don’t need to go away,” Jesus says to anyone who may think that no one understands, no one can relate, no one cares. Why not? Because even if no one else understands or cares, Jesus does. He has compassion. The Greek word for “compassion” refers to the internal organs. So to have compassion for a Greek speaker was to be moved in your internal organs. We’ve all felt that way at some point, haven’t we? When you see or hear about someone suffering terribly, it makes your heart break, your stomach churn.

But don’t make the mistake of thinking that Jesus’ compassion is just like ours. We tend to have compassion only for people we don’t think deserve to suffer as they are. But, if – in our opinion – someone deserves what’s coming to them, don’t come to me for sympathy. And…I have to be in the right, compassionate mood. If I’m stressed or distressed or suffering, don’t look for any compassion from me! It’s a mistake to think that Jesus is like us – that he feels compassion only for those who deserve it or only when he’s in the mood for it. And that’s not just my opinion, that’s right here in the text: When Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place to be alone. What did Jesus hear that caused him to want to be alone? Two things. First, he heard that his cousin, John the Baptist, had been beheaded (Matthew 14:9-12); and, second, that Herod had taken an alarming interest in him and his ministry (Matthew 14:1) – which isn’t good news when he’s just murdered your cousin. You can understand why Jesus would want to be alone with his friends in this situation, can’t you? He’s a human being just like us. He’s the one in need of understanding and compassion, and yet, when he sees the large crowd he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

This is real comfort, isn’t it? If at one of the worst moments of his life on earth, Jesus still had compassion for others, could there be a moment in your life when Jesus is not overflowing with compassion for you? Now that Jesus has finished carrying the burden of your sin to the cross and suffering and dying in your place; now that he rules over all things from his throne in heaven, do you think he has any less compassion? Do you think he could ever be too busy, too tired, too overwhelmed by his problems to care about yours? Of course not! Ah, but the devil loves to sow the seed of doubt in our minds: “What if I deserve to suffer? What if I am simply reaping what I’ve sown? What if I’m struggling financially because of my own poor decisions or suffering physically because of a lifetime of unhealthy living? What if my children have fallen from faith because I didn’t set a good enough example? When I don’t even pity myself – how could I expect Jesus to? I should just go away from him.” No, you don’t have to go away because this miracle shows Jesus has compassion even on sinners who are only getting what they deserve.

Again, we find the proof in the text. Jesus was trying to find some peace and quiet, but the crowds wouldn’t give it to him. They followed him, uninvited, to a deserted place. They didn’t take any food and they stayed too late. So when they began to get hungry late in the day, they really had no one but themselves to blame. They fully deserved to spend the night with their stomachs rumbling and listening to their children whining “I’m hungry.” At least that’s what the devil, the world, and our own sinful flesh want us to think. They want us to think that Jesus’ compassion is only for those who deserve it; that he only helps those who help themselves. 

But if you have a proper understanding of the Gospel, that doesn’t make any sense, does it? What sense would it make for Jesus to come into the world to keep the Law perfectly on our behalf, only to kick us to the curb because we aren’t perfect? How could we possibly think that Jesus willingly suffered unspeakable things to pay for our sins, and now he’s going to abandon us because we’re sinners? One of the key characteristics of God is that he is compassionate (Exodus 34:6; Romans 9:15) – but if he’s only compassionate to those who deserve it – that’s not really compassion, is it?

You don’t need to go away. Jesus has compassion on you, no matter who you are or what you’ve done, and he has the power to satisfy your needs. At the beginning of our text, the sick came to him for healing and Jesus healed them. Maybe you’re not sick. But you can go ahead and fill in your own need. Maybe you’re feeling helpless in the face of Covid-19; maybe you’re enduring crippling mental or emotional pain, maybe you’re facing family problems, marriage problems, job problems. If you have nothing but problems in front of you, look at what Jesus does here! He addresses one of the most basic human needs: the need for food! Jesus fed 5000 men plus women and children. If there was a woman for every man and say two children per couple, that’s 20,000 people. Just for comparison’s sake, at the MLB All-Star game at Cincinnati in 2015, it’s estimated that roughly 1 million pounds of popcorn and 77,000 pounds of sausages were needed to feed roughly 42,000 fans[1]. Jesus fed 20,000 with maybe 5 pounds of bread and 2 pounds of fish. Jesus’ power to provide is beyond debate, isn’t it?

You don’t need to go away. Jesus is here and he has both the compassion and the power to address both your physical and spiritual needs. But make no mistake: your spiritual needs are supreme. That comes out in this miracle, too, when we compare the parallel accounts. Luke tells us that before Jesus healed and fed the people, he spoke to them about the kingdom of God (Luke 9:11). The whole reason the crowds were out there in the wilderness so late in the day was that Jesus was preaching a long sermon to them to take care of their primary need, their spiritual need; to tell them that he had come to pay for their sins. And then, only after he had addressed their spiritual needs did he address their physical need for food. Many churches get this backwards. They figure that if they take care of people’s felt, physical needs – for food, money, shelter, daycare, whatever – they will keep coming to have their spiritual need for forgiveness satisfied. It didn’t even work that way for Jesus. John tells us that after Jesus fed this crowd, they tried to make him their socialist, Bread King, and when he insisted that he came to be their Savior from sin, the bread of life, many turned away from him (John 6:66).

The lesson being: don’t go away from church because you don’t think it is doing enough for your physical needs. You don’t need to go away, you shouldn’t go away because here is where Jesus takes care of your most important needs. Here is forgiveness to address the guilt that weighs on your conscience. Here is life to address the death you feel at work in your body. Here is the power and courage to face the fear and division and lawlessness the devil has sown in our world today.

And Jesus does it through Word and Sacrament. Early Christians adopted bread and fish as a symbol for Holy Communion. They understood that in this Sacrament Jesus provides for both spiritual and physical needs. Some called it “the medicine of immortality” – because it not only cleanses your soul of sin but is heavenly food which grants and guarantees the resurrection of the body – the same body you have right here and now. Many Bible scholars see an allusion to the Lord’s Supper in this feeding of the five thousand. And they may be on to something. Do these words sound familiar? After looking up to heaven, he blessed them. He broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples. It sounds a lot like Jesus’ institution of the Lord’s Supper (Matthew 26:26). Especially in the Sacraments, which attach God’s Word to the earthly elements of water, bread and wine – Jesus makes it clear that he provides for our whole person: body and soul.

So what needs came into your mind when I asked you to fill in the blank before? Was it a family or marital problem? A problem of loneliness or alienation? Look to the baptismal font where Jesus made you a member of his Father’s family forever. Was it a specific sin or haunting guilt? In the absolution Jesus comes to take those burdens off of your mind and conscience with the assurance that he’s already paid for those sins. Maybe your problem is financial. Then take Paul’s words to heart: He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all – how will he not also graciously give us all things along with him? (Romans 8:32) Was it a physical problem? A disease without a cure? Maybe the fear of Covid-19 that has gripped and paralyzed the unbelieving world has gripped and paralyzed you? Come up here to receive the body and blood of the Lord, given and shed for you. Not only does this sacrament assure you of eternal life, but it will give you the courage to face this pandemic with faith rather than fear. It will lead you to understand that your times are in the Lord’s hands (Psalm 31:15) and not in the hands of sinful and error-prone medical experts or bureaucrats. It will lead face death fearlessly, because that’s when our true life begins (Colossians 3:3). Whatever your need, here at church is where Jesus comes to meet your needs.

We’ve looked at this miracle from the point of view of the crowd, but in closing we will take a brief look from the perspective of the disciples. Jesus was doing two things throughout this miracle – he was providing for the needs of the crowd; but he was also testing his disciples’ faith, to see if they really believed that he was the Son of God who is able to satisfy every need. They fail every single test. The only thing the disciples do right is obey Jesus when he tells them to distribute the food to the people. They fail – again and again and again – and yet Jesus still feeds them and after it’s over gives them each a basket of leftovers. A personal little sign, a gift to them that he will provide far more than they need even when they don’t deserve it. So don’t despair over how many times you’ve failed to trust that your Lord has both the power and the compassion to provide for you spiritually and physically. This miracle proves that Jesus will provide even when we don’t deserve it. And that’s why no matter what troubles you are facing right now, you don’t need to go away. Amen.

[1] https://www.eater.com/2015/7/14/8963905/mlb-all-star-game-food-cincinnati

Matthew 13:44-52 - Possession of the Kingdom Demands Going "All In" - August 9, 2020

This Sunday we conclude the section of Matthew’s gospel in which Jesus relates a series of seven parables about the kingdom of heaven. It can’t be emphasized often enough that the kingdom of heaven is not a visible nation; it doesn’t have borders and armies; it’s not a particular church or denomination. Rather, the kingdom of heaven refers to the invisible reign of Jesus (Luke 17:21) through Word and Sacraments (Romans 10:17). So these parables deal with things that are largely hidden from human sight – the operation of the Word in your heart. Today, we’re going to use an analogy from the world of poker to help us understand Jesus’ words. When you go “all in” in poker, you are pushing all your chips in. It’s a risky move, but one that is sometimes necessary. In these final three parables, Jesus teaches us that anyone who wants possession of the kingdom of heaven must be willing to go “all in.”

He says that the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field – a treasure so valuable that you would sell everything you own to get the field that it’s in. The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls – and that when you find one so perfect, so beautiful it’s worth selling everything you have to get it. And, Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven is worth understanding. As he stated in the parable of the Sower, the key is understanding (Matthew 13:19). So here, at the end of his teaching in parables he doesn’t ask his disciples if they like all these things; if they feel good about these things; not even if they believe all these things. No, he asks them do you understand all these things?

The kingdom of heaven demands that we go all in. Are you? Are you all in? Isn’t it true that while Jesus makes it clear that possession of his kingdom demands a full buy-in, we only buy bits and pieces? Who among us has sold all that we have for the kingdom? Oh, it’s worth an offering. It’s worth a percentage of our money. But is it worth everything we have saved up for a lifetime? Oh, we may give a portion of our time for the kingdom – teaching, ushering, counting, serving in countless other ways. But who of us – including myself – can claim that we have given all of our time for the kingdom? Sure, belonging to the kingdom, being and calling myself a Christian, might be a part of my identity. But who of us doesn’t spend more of our casual conversations talking about our pets, our hobbies, our children, our careers, our aspirations for the future – even sports, the weather and politics – than we do the kingdom of heaven? If the kingdom of heaven is a pearl – then you can’t have just a part, a percentage of it. You either have it all or you have nothing.

Jesus says that possession of the kingdom calls us to be all in – not part in, not some in, not most in – but all in. But who among us can really say that we care enough to understand exactly what this means for our lives – day in and day out? For many, even for many Lutherans, understanding the kingdom begins and ends with two years of formal confirmation instruction. What is intended to be an introduction to Christian doctrine often becomes the conclusion. Oh, they may grow in loving, believing, and even serving Jesus – but not in understanding. Jesus asks: [do] you understand all these things? And we’re content to answer: “well, no, but I know enough.” And all of those things reveal the sad truth: we really aren’t willing to go “all in” in order to possess the kingdom of heaven.

Not one of us can stand before Jesus and say “Yep, Jesus, I’m all in.” The evidence is indisputable, isn’t it? Whether you survey our time, our money, our identity as we reveal it to others, even our understanding of Christian doctrine – we’re not “all-in” in any sense. Not one of us has pushed all our chips in to obtain full possession of the kingdom of heaven. So, if you read these parables as instructions for getting the kingdom of heaven all you can conclude is that none of us have it or could ever get it. Not only is that a depressing interpretation, understood that way, it’s not even Biblical. When did Jesus ever present heaven, salvation, as something you can buy or earn? When are we ever told that we could have enough – enough time, money, effort, righteousness, anything – to exchange it for the kingdom of heaven? And, more importantly, who is the only person the Bible ever presents as going “all in”?

Isn’t the only answer God – and specifically, Jesus? When we read these parables in the light of the clear Scripture passages that tell us that God does everything for our salvation and we do nothing (Romans 9:16; Ephesians 2:8-9) – doesn’t it demand that we see the man and the merchant in these parables as Jesus, and not us? The Bible says that God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son (John 3:16) and that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8)? Scripture makes it clear that Jesus is the one who went all in to purchase a kingdom for himself. And that’s interesting, isn’t it? I mean, if it were me, I might have died for the good people, or maybe the ones I knew were going to come to faith. But Jesus? Jesus died to buy the whole filthy field of humanity even though the treasure was hidden and buried (1 John 2:2).

And where does the Bible ever say that we could ever have enough to sell to be able to buy the pearl of heaven? Isn’t Jesus the one who gave up the full use of his divine glory, honor, and power so that he might live in humility on this earth to save us (Philippians 2:6-7)? Jesus gave up his freedom, his authority, his power and God and put himself under every last obligation of the law (Galatians 4:4-5)! Jesus sold his glory to buy your debt. In the end, if you think that either these parables or Christianity as a whole is about you and your obedience and effort – then you have to answer this: then why did Jesus come to earth at all? Why did he give up his place in the kingdom to take one in a lowly manger, as a hated and harassed prophet, as a convicted and crucified criminal? If these parables are about us…then what is the cross all about?

It doesn’t make any sense, does it? It’s beyond our understanding. And now I’m no longer talking about the false teaching that Jesus needlessly came to earth to save people who were fully capable of saving themselves – I’m talking about the fact that what these parables are telling us is that we are the treasure, we are the valuable pearl, we are the ones who get bought back by Jesus. You’re the one for whom Jesus sold his position, his authority, his life to buy you back from sin, death, and the devil. Rather than thinking that God looks at you and sees you as the miserable, wretched, filthy sinner that you know you are, you are to believe that God sees you as a treasure, as a pearl – as worth even more than the life of his own beloved Son.

That’s what really doesn’t make sense, right? That’s what’s really beyond our understanding. Here’s the thing. Jesus couldn’t understand it either. Part of the price it cost to purchase our wretched souls was Jesus’ giving up of his perfect understanding of his Father’s gracious plan of salvation. Now, that might sound like blasphemy, so let me explain. The Bible says that Jesus did not consider equality with God as a prize to be grasped, but he emptied himself by taking the nature of a servant (Philippians 2:6-7). And Jesus displayed that servant-like ignorance at two memorable times during his life on earth. The first was in Gethsemane. Jesus fell on his face in that garden and prayed My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me (Matthew 26:39) – apparently not understanding why he had to swallow the suffering the sinful world deserved. But, then he concluded yet not as I will, but as you will (Matthew 26:39). Or go to Calvary. Listen to the Son of God cry out as he suffers the hell of having his Father disown him: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me (Matthew 27:46)? Jesus couldn’t understand that his Father would forsake him, but he endured it, so that his Father would never, ever forsake you. You are the treasure. You are the pearl. You are what Jesus gave up everything to buy and have and hold and treasure forever. Do you understand that?

There’s one more part of this text that can be easily misunderstood. In the third parable Jesus tells us that the kingdom of heaven catches all kinds of fish: good fish and bad fish, righteous fish and wicked fish (and I better stop there before I start sounding like Dr. Seuss!). In other words, the net that is the kingdom of heaven, the reign of God on earth in Word and Sacrament, doesn’t just gather in treasure and pearls. It gathers garbage. And Jesus makes it clear that we won’t know until the end of the world which are which – when the angels will go out and separate the wicked from the righteous who are among them. So the question often becomes: which one am I?

Jesus leads us to the answer when he closes: therefore every expert in the law who has been trained as a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his treasure both new things and old things. So here the picture changes a bit, doesn’t it? Rather than Jesus treasuring us and giving up everything to have us in his kingdom – he’s saying that those who have been trained as disciples now also possess all of the treasures of the kingdom. So here’s the answer to the question of which kind of fish you are: are you a disciple? Remember, a disciple is first and foremost a learner, a receiver. So are you receiving the gifts Jesus gave up everything to win for you? You have once again today, right? The forgiveness of sins in the Absolution, the assurance that you are still God’s beloved, baptized child. The peace and comfort of knowing that you have been reconciled with God through Christ. Because these gifts are yours, all of the treasure of the kingdom are yours as well – both new and old.

What does that mean? While there is no real agreement among Bible scholars regarding this statement, since Jesus is concluding his teaching in parables here – and leaning on the theme that many things in Jesus’ kingdom are hidden from the world but revealed to disciples – I believe he is simply stating that his disciples not only have a grasp of the old things of Scripture – the basic, historical facts of what God has done in the past, but even the new, often hidden, things that God is still doing in our world through his Word today. Over the past three weeks Jesus has taught us that the seed of the gospel does not always succeed in penetrating human hearts and bearing fruit in the parable of the Sower (Matthew 13:1-23); that in the visible church there will always be both wheat and weeds, both believers and unbelievers – and it won’t get sorted out until the Last Day (Matthew 13:24-30; 36-43); that while the kingdom of heaven will one day be revealed as powerful and effective, it doesn’t look that way here and now – as in the parable of the mustard seed and the yeast (Matthew 13:31-35). In other words, Jesus’ disciples not only understand what he has done for us in the past, we can, to a certain extent, understand and see him actively working in our world today – the old and the new. And the common thread that runs throughout both these “old” and “new” treasures is that it doesn’t depend on us or our effort! Being a disciple is not about doing but receiving. And if you are receiving the all-in effort of your Savior to purchase and win you for heaven through Word and Sacrament – then you don’t have to spend any time wondering what kind of fish you are.

I don’t know about you, but over the past few weeks I’ve found that Jesus’ parables have a tendency to throw my normal understanding of things out the window and flip everything upside down. Today is no different. Whenever you’re tempted to ask “Am I ‘all in’ for Jesus? Have I done enough to find a place in his kingdom?” – don’t, and instead ask the right questions: “Is Jesus all in for me? Did he give up everything to buy me back from sin and death and the devil? Does he promise to provide me with everything I need for this life and the next?” There’s your answer: because Jesus, in his boundless love, appraised you to be worth more than his own priceless blood (1 Peter 1:18-19), you are in possession of the kingdom of heaven. Amen.

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43 - A Reverse Revelation of Reality - August 2, 2020

If you are interested or invested in the stock market – you are probably aware that publicly traded companies are required by law to offer quarterly earnings reports. This is to give investors a glimpse into the financial reality of the companies. However, while they are compelled by law to not mislead the public in these quarterly forecasts, everyone knows that the true reality isn’t discussed publicly, but in the company boardroom. What they offer to the public is generally a rosy, optimistic picture while often more difficult reality is discussed only in private. I think that modern picture is helpful as we seek to understand the parable before us today: the parable of the Weeds. Jesus offers one description of the kingdom of heaven to the public – many of whom were stubborn unbelievers; and another privately to his disciples. But unlike a modern day CEO, he doesn’t project a rosy picture to the public; and he saves the good news for the ears of his disciples. That’s why today’s parable is a reverse revelation of reality.

In speaking to the largely unbelieving crowds, Jesus presents the reality of the kingdom to them in the form of a parable. The reality that he reveals is that what they see is what they get. What they are seeing happening in and around Jesus’ ministry is the reign of heaven on earth. But it’s not a pretty picture; it doesn’t seem like the way any King would rule. Who plants a field with good seed and then when his enemy sows weeds on top of it does nothing? And not only that, he specifically forbids his servants from doing anything to end the infestation. Strange, to say the least. No self-respecting farmer would allow weeds to freely grow in their field. It would mean letting all of their hard work to be wasted, to run the risk that their precious crops could be destroyed. No, everyone knows that if you have a weed problem, you’ve got to get rid of them. But that’s not the way it works in the kingdom of heaven. Why not? What is this parable all about?

This is Jesus’ description of the visible Christian church to unbelieving outsiders. And you know what the kingdom of heaven, what the visible Christian church looks like to outsiders today, don’t you? They see countless different churches and denominations – all claiming to possess the truth – and conclude that if God really existed there’s no way he would tolerate this mess. They may stumble across preachers on TV or radio or YouTube – all teaching something different, all claiming to be right – and conclude that Christianity is no different than fast-food – that you can have it your way – that you can believe whatever you want, because it doesn’t seem to matter. They hear about priests molesting children, about pastors who abuse and fleece their members and who live in mansions and fly around the world in private jets – and they conclude that the church is no different than any other institution in this world where the rich get richer and the powerful get away with their sins at the expense of the people under their control. To the unbelieving world, the church is an ugly, weed-infested mess.

And it grates on any faithful Christian. Looking at the state of the church today, we readily understand the attitude of the servants in the parable, who say “You know what, we need to fix this problem, we need to rid the field of the weeds, the heretics and hypocrites – by force, if necessary.” But the King says “No, don’t do that.” Because when you gather up the weeds, you might pull up the wheat along with them. So the Lord of the Church does what no self-respecting farmer would do – he allows unfaithful, untruthful, even immoral people to grow in his field, to call themselves Christians, and he does nothing to stop it.

That’s the reality the Lord shows to those crowds. He tells them in no uncertain terms: “Yep, what you see is what you get. If the church looks like a mess to you, that’s because it is!” Rather than present a fanciful and unrealistic portrait of the church to the unbelieving crowds, Jesus doubles down on their rather negative opinion. Why would Jesus do this? Well, we get a hint as to his motives in the verses we skipped over, where Jesus described the kingdom in terms of a mustard seed and yeast – things that are small and insignificant but very effective nonetheless (Matthew 13:31-32). To those who were always asking for and expecting big, impressive signs and wonders – Jesus says that the Kingdom of heaven on earth is not big and impressive, but, more often, small and rather uninspiring. And the reality is that is still true today.

The hymn Onward, Christians Soldiers (CW 537) is beloved by many Christians, describing us like a “mighty army” (537:2). But it’s hardly accurate. The Church doesn’t look at all like a mighty army. 2000 years after Jesus, we still don’t see the great big, full-grown mustard tree in which birds can easily find shelter. Nor do we see Jesus reaching down like the Green Giant to pull the weeds out of the church. Some of the most famous and influential church leaders state publicly that they support homosexuality and transgenderism and a woman’s right to kill her unborn child and the myth of evolution. Whole church bodies deny the virgin birth, the resurrection of the dead and the existence of heaven and hell. And we know that the King of heaven could weed them all out in one fell swoop. And yet he does nothing. And it’s frustrating and maddening.

That is the only reality those outside the Church get to see. Jesus doesn’t explain this parable to them. He doesn’t tell them how a field full of wheat and weeds relates to the visible church. But there is more here than the rather obvious lessons that the weeds are left for the sake of the wheat; or that at the final harvest everything will be sorted out and made right. There are three lessons for us based on the future reality that Jesus shares only with his disciples. A gospel truth, a law truth and an assuring, steadying truth.

First, anyone can see that contemporary churches built on an explicit “consumer-oriented” approach – where it’s all about you – seem to be the model for success today. You will find emerging churches that emphasize personal holiness, an intentional decision for Christ, the promotion of personal faith rather than the historical, Christian faith. They take some parts of the Bible, such as personal behavior and commitment – the law – very seriously, while quickly dismissing the key doctrines of justification by faith and free forgiveness delivered through Word and Sacrament. And these types of movements seem to be thriving at a time when Christianity as a whole seems to be on the decline.

And yet, the hidden reality is that a consumer-oriented, law centered ministry often devolves into pulling up the wheat with the weeds. You can understand that if you’ve ever been subjected to that kind of messaging. When your holy living, your commitment to Christ, the strength of your faith, what you are doing for God is the constant emphasis – sincere Christians can be driven to the point where they throw up their hands and say: “I don’t think I qualify! That’s not me! I can’t do it!” If you recognize with Isaiah that all of your good works are no better than filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6); if you know with Paul that no matter how many times you repent, you continue to do evil things you don’t want to do (Romans 7:19); if your faith feels smaller than a mustard seed and all you can do is say I do believe, help me with my unbelief (Mark 9:24); and you’re still being told that it’s all about your strength, your effort, your faith – then what else can you conclude but that you’re really a weed and not wheat? You’d be given to despair, to depression, to leaving the church for good. And, intentionally or not, the servants end up damaging the wheat in their desire to rip out the weeds.

Here’s the reverse gospel reality: the wheat, the Church, isn’t built on individual holiness, repentance or faith but on the historical life, death, and resurrection of Christ which is delivered to sinners through the stubbornly objective means of grace: the gospel in Word and Sacrament. Jesus calls believers the sons of the kingdom. You don’t become a son by striving but by birth. It’s a gift that’s given, not earned. Our personal holiness is truly no better than filthy rags – but God clothed his only Son in our rags and drapes the robe of his righteousness over us in Baptism. Our repentance is never full enough, never sincere enough to pay for even one sin – but Jesus, having lived a life with absolutely nothing to repent of, died to take away every last one of your sins, even the ones you aren’t aware of and haven’t repented of (Psalm 19:12). Our faith will always be fickle, so it’s a good thing that it’s Jesus’ faith that really matters. He believed in his Father’s plan to send him to earth to live and die for you; he believes that he paid for every last one of your sins on the cross; he believes that because he lives, you too shall live (John 14:19); he believes that there is no condemnation for those who believe in him (Romans 8:1). And he’s the Son of Man – he will be our judge. So whose opinion do you want to believe – his or yours? As Martin Luther said so often, when it comes to salvation, don’t look inside yourself at that fickle frail thing we call faith – look instead to the object of your faith – to Jesus – whose work of redemption is finished once and for all and delivers it to you through the firm, objective, unchanging means of grace. [1]

That’s the Gospel reality Jesus hides from the world. But there’s a hidden element of Law here, too. This text has been used to defend the failure to exercise church discipline – that we shouldn’t try to rebuke, correct, or excommunicate those who are openly heretical or impenitent, but simply let them live however they want to because “you don’t want to pull out the wheat with the weeds.” Jesus reverses that unbiblical use of this parable. He teaches that being left alone is not the same as being forgiven. Both weeds and wheat are left alone to grow for now, but their outcomes are very different. Just because his mighty hand hasn’t reached down and pulled you out of his field doesn’t mean that he’s okay with you defending, excusing, or remaining in your sins. Just because you are growing and even flourishing in God’s field doesn’t mean that you won’t be weeded out at the end of the age and thrown into hell’s fiery furnace. Jesus says that only the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Who are the righteous? They aren’t the ones who say, “I am living with my boyfriend or girlfriend, but I’m still a Christian.” They’re not the ones who argue, “I don’t make any effort to attend worship or receive the Sacrament, but I’m still a Christian.” They don’t say, “I don’t really believe everything the Bible says, but I’m still a Christian.” But neither do they claim that their holiness, repentance or faith is enough to earn them entrance into heaven. No, the righteous are those who regularly and faithfully confess their sins and believe that only the holy life and innocent death of Jesus – which they receive through Word and Sacrament – is sufficient to save them at the end of the world.

Finally, Jesus offers us a steadying truth. One which boils down to “No, we’re not going crazy.” We’re not losing our minds. It’s not just your imagination that this world is growing more and more evil – it is, just like the Bible said it would (2 Timothy 3:12-13; Luke 24:1-35). Not only does he tell us not to expect life as Christians to be a bed of roses, but he tells us that there must be divisions in the visible church to separate the (orthodox) right-teaching from the (heterodox) wrong-teaching (1 Corinthians 11:19) and that even in orthodox churches there will always be hypocrites – weeds and wheat. Jesus tells us this so that we won’t despair when we see it happening; so that we won’t be surprised. But then he steadies us with the assurance that he will send his reapers to remove the sons of the Evil One as easily as you pull weeds after a soaking rain. And when they come, everything will be made right – the weeds will be pulled out and burned and the righteous will shine with the glory of Jesus’ righteousness in the Father’s kingdom forever.

This is the future reversal that gives us comfort right now. So the reality that we see today – a church that seems to be a mess – shouldn’t lead us to despair but to believe. You’re not crazy – the visible church is a messy mixture of wheat and weeds – just like Jesus said it would be. But one day the Lord will make all things right – and that’s our sure and certain hope. Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear and believe this reverse revelation of reality. Amen.

[1] What Luther Says, p. 1262

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23 - What Kind of Soil Am I? - July 26, 2020

Just like last week, the Word of God before us describes the inner workings of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth. And, just like last week, the context is key. Outwardly, Jesus’ ministry is still a train wreck. Not only have the Pharisees begun plotting his death (Matthew 12:14) and accused him of working for the devil (Matthew 12:24), but now he’s had to shock his own family into the realization that faith is thicker than blood (Matthew 12:46-50). And again the question is: what’s going on here? Why isn’t Jesus, the long-promised Savior, having more success saving people? Why are so many deaf to the Gospel of free salvation? Jesus answers these questions with a series of parables (Matthew 13:1-53) – stories in which an earthly situation and a spiritual truth are laid side by side for comparison. And as we hear the parable of the Sower, the natural question is: what kind of soil am I?

To the parable. The most self-evident part of this parable is that there are four kinds of soil. So let’s start by taking a soil sample. The first kind is hard soil, the kind packed down from being walked on repeatedly. This soil represents people who hear the Word of God, but don’t understand it. They don’t put two and two together. They hear about sin and the law, but don’t believe that God’s judgment applies to them or the evil things they have thought, said and done. They hear about Christ dying on the cross for the sins of the world – and they don’t understand how that relates to forgiveness 2000 years later. When the Word of God is nothing more than an abstraction, something which doesn’t really relate to your life here and now – like a weather alert for a different part of the country –  it can be snatched away by Satan as easily as blackbirds snatch up grass seed lying on the sidewalk. Is that you?

Or are you shallow, rocky soil? Have you connected God’s judgment of sinners to yourself personally? Have you seen that your sins have rightly earned you condemnation now and eternally? Have you discovered that Jesus’ perfect life has covered your imperfect one through the Sacrament of Holy Baptism (Galatians 3:27)? And have you connected his innocent suffering and death to your guilty life – with the wonderful realization that because he suffered God’s wrath you never will? Well, then the joy of salvation has probably sprung from your heart as quickly as a seed sprouts in warm, rocky soil. But emotion is no substitute for deep roots, for true understanding. In order to endure, faith must be rooted in a deep understanding of what the Word of God really brings into your life. The Word of God brings the peace of salvation, to be sure – but it also brings trouble and persecution. And if your faith goes no deeper than warm and fuzzy feelings, there is very real danger that under the burning sun of trial and trouble it with wither and die.

Or maybe you’re neither hard nor shallow soil. Maybe your life is infested with thorns. You’ve heard the Law and know you’re hopelessly damned. You accept that there is no way you can be good enough to go to heaven. But you’ve heard the Gospel too and believe that Jesus came into the world to save sinners just like you (1 Timothy 1:15). And you’ve grown in this faith. You’ve even thrived. But having the certainty of eternal life is no guarantee that you won’t have worries in this life. Even deeply rooted, thriving Christians get Covid-19 and cancer, and have marriage, work, and financial troubles – and the blunt reality is that the Gospel doesn’t offer much practical help with these things. But money does. And when you are led to chase after the illusion that money is the answer to all of life’s problems (Ecclesiastes 10:19) – then, your faith, your trust in God to provide, can easily be choked off and die.

Or you could be good soil. You’re the good, black dirt that is so desired and so rarely found. You understand the Law, which leads you to constant, daily repentance. You don’t excuse, defend or try to make up for your sins; you simply confess them and lay them on Jesus. You also understand the Gospel, which leads you to regularly and joyfully receive the forgiveness Jesus won for you on the cross and delivers to you in the water of Baptism, the words of Absolution, and the bread and wine of Holy Communion. And, as a result, you’re reproducing the love, peace, joy, forgiveness, hope and mercy (Galatians 5:22-23) that you have received from Jesus in abundance - just like one sunflower seed produces thousands more.

So, what kind of soil are you? It certainly sounds like a reasonable question, but there’s a problem with it. It’s the wrong question. It’s not because we’re not dirt – we are! From dirt we were taken and to dirt we will return (Genesis 3:19). As Kansas sang in the 70’s, “All we are is dust in the wind.” [1] The problem is that no matter what kind of dirt you are, dirt doesn’t produce anything on its own. You can go into your backyard, till up a rich, black patch of soil, water it and let the sun warm it – but nothing is going to grow.

Actually, that’s not exactly true. Dirt doesn’t produce anything beneficial on its own – but it does have the terrible power to produce a bumper crop of weeds. That’s the kind of soil we were when God found us. We were hard-packed, rocky, weed-infested, good-for-nothing dirt. That’s not an insult, that’s simply the truth of Scripture: You were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked when you followed the ways of this present world (Ephesians 2:1). But when the Sower came into our lives and planted the good seed of the Gospel, he pulled out the weeds and declared us good in the eyes of God. Paul describes that miraculous conversion in 1 Corinthians 6: and some of you were those types of people. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God (1 Corinthians 6:11).

And that, while stemming from the wrong question, is the right answer. This parable isn’t really about dirt – it’s not really about us – at all, but the Sower and the seed. And there are two things to take note of regarding the Sower and his seed; things that help us better understand how the Kingdom of God operates in this world. First, this Sower would make a pretty terrible farmer. He would probably lose his farm within a year. Why? Well, he’s pretty reckless with his seeding. When food was scarce, as it often was in Palestine, farmers would take great care to only sow their limited seed on good and promising soil. Even today, farmers drive hundred-thousand dollar tractors equipped with GPS positioning to ensure that not a single seed is wasted. But the Sower in this parable scatters his seed on every imaginable type of soil. He’s a very inefficient farmer.

This reminds us that, humanly speaking, Gospel ministry is a pretty inefficient endeavor. While most businesses operate with very rigid profit vs. expense expectations, where most people would be never invest in something that has a 75% chance of failure (as the Sower faced) – participating in Gospel ministry requires you to throw those business principles out. Just as Jesus, who is the real Sower, spread his seed rather recklessly over all types of soil, so we still do today. Both here, in in-person worship, and through the blessing of YouTube broadcasts, we open our wallets and practice the organ and plan our Sunday school lessons and prepare budgets and clean our sanctuary and cut our grass and share our faith individually with and for all people – with the understanding that a large percentage of the time it’s going to fall on deaf ears and hard hearts. But just as Jesus spread the good news of the salvation he came to bring to all types of people consisting of all types of attitudes – so we continue to do the same today. How could we not? Remember that none of us were good soil when Jesus found us – he had to pull out the weeds and till us and water us to make us into the relatively workable soil we are today. Don’t forget that! By God’s grace we have been made good soil; with grace we sow the Gospel into every variety of soil in the world. That’s the first important takeaway from this parable.

The second is that, no matter the condition of the soil, the seed is always powerful. First, let’s be clear about what the seed is. Jesus says very clearly that the seed is the word of the kingdom. The seed is the Word of God. The seed is the Law and the Gospel. Nothing else will do. Nothing else can possibly transform worthless dirt into good, productive soil. And that’s informative for us, too. Many believe that if the church were just to follow so-called “Church Growth” principles, she would take root in this world and really thrive. These principles tend to focus on analyzing the soil and carefully curating the seed which will be sown to suit it. We’re told how important it is to conduct demographic studies to understand the type of people we are trying to reach; how important it is to design worship in a format that people are comfortable with rather than on Biblical principles; how important it is to offer all of the social services and programs people want. And while none of those things are wrong in and of themselves, they, by definition, are not the seed of the Gospel. A church will quickly die if it spends more time and effort analyzing the soil rather than sowing the seed. But what’s most troubling is that “Church Growth” principles tend to lead to a genetic modification of the seed – with the assumption that if the soil doesn’t want to hear about sin and grace, about absolute and unchanging standards of right and wrong – then that seed ought to be modified and replaced with something more acceptable. While there’s certainly nothing wrong with careful planning and researching and surveying to see what kind of people, what kind of soil we are working with – the fact remains that we’re dealing with dirt. Dirt is dirt with no ability to produce anything good. The only thing that has the power to change any variety of dirt is the pure, unmodified seed of the Word – both Law and Gospel.

And so the question this parable should lead us to ask is not “what kind of soil am I” or “what kind of soil is the person I’m trying to reach,” but “is the good seed of God’s Word powerful enough to do what it says?” And the answer is, then and now and always, “Yes!” As God promised through Isaiah his Word will always succeed in the purpose for which [he] sent it (Isaiah 55:11). It can produce faith in hard-packed soil. This happens when people will come to church – often against their will, whether for a wedding or funeral, a Baptism or Mother’s Day – and the Word penetrates their tough and rough exteriors before the devil can swoop in and take it away. It can produce faith in shallow, rocky soil. Faith sprouts in people who come to church just once. The joy of forgiveness sprouts in hearts that are cluttered with all kinds of earthly things, so that the seed lays just on the surface. But still, faith sprouts there. It can produce faith in soil that is surrounded by thorns. There are people who have been swamped by worry and deceived by riches – and yet simple faith in Christ still blossomed and grew. According to “Church Growth” experts, it’s just a waste of seed trying to sow on these types of soil. But because the heart of the seed is Christ, the Son of God who sacrificed himself, spilling his blood, for sinners, the seed is so powerful that even though it’s thousands of years old, it can still sprout and grow in any type of soil today.

Because, in the end, it’s the seed, not the soil, that matters. The seed does it all. The seed can produce amazing results. The good seed of the Gospel planted in you at your Baptism, watered by the Absolution, and fed by the body and blood of Christ – can, and will, do things we may think are impossible. The seed makes you good and clean in God’s eyes even if you still feel dirty with sin. The seed will give you confidence that God will provide, even in times of physical or financial or emotional distress. The seed will raise your body and take it to heaven even though all you can see is a six-foot hole in the dirt with your name on it.

So stop asking, “What kind of soil am I?” Instead, ask, “Is the seed, the word of the kingdom, being sown on me? Are the Law and Gospel being planted my heart daily and weekly? Is the forgiveness Jesus won on the cross and provides for me in Baptism and Absolution, regularly watering my soul? Is the fertilizer of his body and blood feeding the seed of faith he has planted?” If those things are true then I can assure you of two things: 1) You’re not the kind of worthless dirt you once were; and 2) the seed is already producing more fruit in your life than you could ever imagine or even see. And that’s the right answer to the wrong question. Amen.

[1] https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/kansas/dustinthewind.html

Matthew 11:25-30 - Two Big Secrets about Christianity - July 19, 2020

While these are some of the best-known, most-quoted, and most often printed on wall-decor words in the Bible, taken out of context, this talk about yokes and burdens and rest doesn’t make much sense. To fully grasp Jesus’ words here, we must ask “Why did Jesus say these words at that (specific) time?” Well, remember that last week Jesus had just sent the twelve apostles out on their very first solo missionary journeys (John 10). But while they were gone, Jesus’ own ministry seemed to be falling apart. First, John the Baptist had been imprisoned, and while in prison seemed to be doubtful that Jesus was who he claimed to be (Matthew 11:2-6). Second, Israel as a whole was utterly apathetic and indifferent to both John’s rather serious wilderness ministry and Jesus’ ministry which he conducted openly, eating and drinking with tax collectors and sinners (Matthew 11:19). They were so obstinate that Jesus says, rather sarcastically, to what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces who call to others, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance. We sang a dirge, but you did not mourn (Matthew 11:16-17) – his point being that no matter the minister’s style, the people’s hearts remained unmoved by the Law and the Gospel. And, as if that weren’t enough, Jesus pronounced his famous “woe’s” on Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum – the towns in which he had performed most of his miracles (Matthew 11:20) because of their stubborn impenitence. By all appearances, Jesus’ ministry was a miserable failure. And so, it is at this apparent low point in his ministry that Jesus chooses to reveal two big secrets about Christianity.

One of the major themes in Matthew’s Gospel is the arrival of the Kingdom of God / Heaven on earth. Already in the first chapter Matthew says that in Jesus “God [is] with us” (Matthew 1:23). And the obvious questions are: if God is really here on earth in Jesus – then why does his ministry seem to be such a failure? Has something gone wrong? Has God lost control? What’s going on? In the first several verses of our text, Jesus pulls back the curtain to show us what’s going on behind the scenes.

I won’t reread those verses, but I believe the key lies in a word Jesus uses twice: it’s the Greek word apocalypse – which means revealed or disclosed. Jesus says that it was pleasing to his Father to hide the secret of salvation from clever and learned people and to instead reveal it to little children and that he alone can reveal the Father to whomever he wants to. What does this mean? I suppose, when you think about it, this isn’t as much a mystery or secret as it is a sad reality. The clever and learned who rejected Jesus were those who thought that they didn’t need him because they were fully capable of saving themselves. They were people who refused to repent, refused to confess their sins and therefore refused to trust Jesus and throw themselves on his grace. They were like the “clever” two-year-old who is fully convinced that they can carry two dozen eggs from the car, up the stairs, through a living room littered with toys, safely to the kitchen. They don’t recognize their weakness and their need, not just for a little help, but for total salvation from certain disaster. Their rejection of help results in help being “hidden” from them. On the other hand, when Jesus sat and ate and spoke with open, acknowledged sinners, the tax collectors and prostitutes, their eyes were wide open to their need. They were fully aware of their sinfulness and unworthiness, and desperate for a solution outside of themselves. To these people, these little children, the Father was pleased to reveal his gift of salvation. And the secret is: this wasn’t plan “B”, this was his plan all along!

But even that answer just leads to another, deeper question, doesn’t it? The question that has tortured countless Christians for centuries. You know the question, right? Why? Why are some people saved and not others? If all people are lost and dead in sin (Romans 2:10), if all people desperately need the salvation only Jesus can offer, if Jesus died for all (1 John 2:2) – why is it hidden from so many and revealed to so few? Here is Jesus’ answer: Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wants to reveal him. Satisfied? Does that solve all of your questions about why some accept the Gospel and others reject it? Why many truly intelligent people despise Christianity and, still today, confessed and penitent sinners believe it?

It may not seem like Jesus answers those questions here, but he does. Jesus says that everything has been entrusted to [him] by [his] Father. Everything – life and death, health and wealth, the past, the present and the future, the control of governments and empires and viruses and elections and protests – it’s all in Jesus’ hands. More importantly, the authority to grant the gifts of faith, forgiveness and salvation – is his. And only those to whom Jesus chooses to reveal the truth of salvation will in fact receive it. Now, our clever and learned minds tend to find two problems with that. First, it doesn’t leave any room for our pride. No one can say “I found Jesus, I chose Jesus, I made a decision for Jesus” – at least not if you believe his words here. According to him, the only reason you believe the Gospel is because he chose to reveal it to you. Second, our clever and learned minds want to automatically fill in the other half of the equation: “Well, if Jesus chooses some to believe and be saved; then, logically, he must intentionally not choose others, and therefore he is directly responsible for their unbelief and damnation.” That may sound logical. It may sound intelligent. But it’s definitely not Biblical. That’s not what the Bible says here or anywhere else (see Ezekiel 33:11; 1 Timothy 2:4). The Biblical, albeit logic-defying, answer to the question of why are some saved and not others is that when a sinner receives and believes the Gospel, all the credit goes to God; and when others don’t believe and are damned, the fault is theirs.

The point being that coming to – and remaining in – saving faith is not a matter of human discovery, choice, or decision – but a matter of God’s grace. If you don’t like the answer to the question of why some are saved and not others – then just consider this: what do we all, by nature and by behavior actually deserve? When the Bible says that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23), then no one can justly call Jesus “unfair” for choosing some to be saved. That’s grace! Salvation belongs to him, it’s his right to choose to whom he will reveal the Gospel. To claim otherwise is blasphemy. (It is to deny the dual assertions of Scripture that yes, God does indeed want all people to be saved (1 Timothy 2:4) – and, if a person is damned, it is completely, totally, absolutely their own fault (Acts 7:51; John 3:17-18).)

This is the first big secret of Christianity, a secret that, sadly, remains hidden from many today. Saving faith is not a matter of discovery or decision or logic or effort but a matter of divine grace and revelation. Why are you here this morning to confess your faith and receive the saving gifts of God in Word and Sacrament? Because Jesus chose to reveal the secret of salvation to you. Why are so many others, who have also heard this saving message with their ears, not here? Because they have rejected Jesus and the salvation he offers. Over the next few weeks we will discuss the practical implications of this truth as we study several of Jesus’ parables. But for today, it’s enough for us to believe that Christianity is not discovered but revealed.

Now, that truth may leave some of us a bit shaken. You might be wondering, “How do I know that Jesus has chosen me – that I’m not just an imposter or pretender? What do I have to do to make sure that I’m included among the little children to whom salvation is revealed?” It’s a common question, and the answer is the secret that Jesus reveals in the last three verses of our text: come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. You can know with certainty that Jesus will welcome you because his invitation goes out to all!

This is a secret, not because of God, but because of human nature. We are born with the innate idea that if we are going to be saved, we’re going to have to do it ourselves (theologically speaking, this is called the opinio legis). You see this wicked opinio legis in Eden when Adam and Eve try to hide their shame and nakedness from God by hiding and covering themselves with fig leaves (Genesis 3:7). You see it in the people of Israel when they trust their sacrifices rather than God’s grace to provide reconciliation and forgiveness (Isaiah 1:11-13). We see it blatantly in the Pharisees and teachers of the law who had placed the unbearable burden of both God’s Law and their own fabricated rules and regulations (Matthew 23:13-39). We see it very clearly in our culture today where there is apparently only one right way to live, speak and even think. We still see it today in many Christian churches which lead people to base the certainty of their salvation on whether they are living up to God’s expectations; whether they are praying enough, giving enough, believing enough, progressing enough in becoming better, holier people. I see it when I ask people why they haven’t return to worship, why they haven’t requested private communion, why they feel no need to hear the Gospel and receive the Sacrament – and they answer “Don’t worry pastor, I still pray, I still read my Bible on occasion, I’m still sending in my offerings, I still try my best to be a good person.” You realize what all of that is, right? It’s all about works and obedience. Yes, you can earn heaven for yourself if you pray and study and give and love…perfectly. But, the dirty little secret is that that is an unbearable burden, a yoke that no human being can bear. If you’ve spent any amount of time believing that, trying to do that, then you understand why Jesus describes people like that as weary and burdened.

The second, big secret about Christianity is that it’s not about work but rest. Jesus is not the county health department. He doesn’t say “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you more guidelines, instructions, and mandates.” He doesn’t say “Come to me and I will teach how to improve your marriage, make more money, or become a better version of yourself.” He says Come to me…and I will give you rest. Now admittedly, putting on a yoke doesn’t sound like rest, but it is! Jesus says, literally: take my yoke upon you and learn from me, that I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. How do we find the rest Jesus promises? By learning about him – which is the definition of a disciple. By definition, a disciple is not a “doer”, but a “learner.” When we learn about Jesus – we learn that he is gentle and humble. So gentle and humble that he came down from heaven to live under the burden of the Law in our place (Galatians 4:4-5). So gentle that he, the Lord of the Law, kept every commandment every day of his life so that we wouldn’t have to in order to be saved (Romans 5:19). So humble that after he had perfectly carried the yoke of the Law to his Father’s approval, he then shouldered the weight of our sin and guilt and carried it to the cross (Romans 4:25). So humble that he suffered the wrath of God and the fire of hell to free us from the threat of condemnation (Romans 8:1). So gentle, that he promises never to turn away any poor, miserable sinner that comes to him for forgiveness and rest – no matter who we are or what we’ve done. Yes, this is the great big, foundational secret of Christianity – that it’s not about your work, but Jesus’; not about what you do for him but what he has done for you. And what he has done for you is carry the burden of obedience to God’s Law and the burden of your sin and guilt through the cross and to the finish line for you. All has been done. It is finished (John 19:30). Jesus calls his yoke light and easy because he’s already done the heavy lifting of earning your salvation. And that’s the big secret of why you’re here: not to work, but to rest in that wonderful truth.

So now you know the two great, big secrets of Christianity. Christianity is not discovered by our effort but revealed by Jesus out of pure grace; and, it’s not about our work, but about Jesus’ perfect and completed work. Take these secrets to heart, and you will have true and eternal rest for your soul. Amen.  

Matthew 10:34-42 - Confessing Jesus Brings - July 12, 2020

We’re in the long season of the church year called Pentecost. The paraments are green to indicate that it’s a season of growth. It’s a time for us to grow in our faith by applying what Christ has done for us to our everyday lives. As our first two lessons indicated – and which our sermon text confirms – this growth is not easy; it’s not smooth; it’s not painless. It’s going to mean conflict and struggle. Put bluntly, it’s a time for us to grow up; to grow up and out of a childish and naïve understanding of what it means to be a Christian in a hostile world ruled by the devil (John 12:31). Jesus doesn’t pull any punches here, he says that if you confess his name you can expect three things to come into your life. The question each of us has to wrestle with is: is it worth it?

Our text is the conclusion of Jesus’ Missionary Discourse – his final instructions to the twelve apostles before he sends them out on their own for the first time. He has just promised them that everyone who confesses me before others, I will also confess before my father who is in heaven (Matthew 10:32). And now he tells them what kind of reaction they can expect as they do that confessing throughout the cities and villages of Israel. But it’s more than that. Jesus is also speaking to us. He’s telling us what Christians of all times and places can expect when they confess Christ. Do not think that I came to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. What? Jesus didn’t come to bring peace? Didn’t Isaiah call him the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6)? Didn’t the angels sing glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind (Luke 2:14) at his birth? So which one is it? Did Jesus come to bring peace or not? How do we solve this paradox?

It all depends on how you define peace. If you define it like the world does – as the absence of war, financial security, good health, mental and emotional tranquility; or these days, a cure for Covid-19 or an end to the protests – then no, Jesus did not come to bring that kind of peace. And, actually, if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well leave now, because we don’t have that to give. Jesus didn’t come to bring earthly peace, but a different kind of peace – the peace of forgiveness, peace between God and sinners, the peace that nothing in this world can separate us from God’s love (Romans 8:39). Jesus explains the distinction in John 16: I have told you these things (that the disciples would be persecuted), so that you may have peace in me. In this world you are going to have trouble. But be courageous! I have overcome the world (John 16:33). This resolves the paradox – in Jesus we have peace; in this world no peace, but trouble. And in our text, he identifies one of the specific troubles as a sword.

What does that mean? What does a sword do? It cuts, it divides, it separates. (Think of how Peter tried to separate Malchus’ ear from the rest of his body (John 18:10)). Divides, separates what? We see plenty of divisions in our nation today, don’t we? Political, economic, racial, etc. But this sword cuts much deeper than any of those, this sword touches every single human. We get a hint of this division already in the Garden of Eden. When Adam and Eve ate the fruit they separated themselves, divided themselves from God and “made peace” with the devil. God wouldn’t let that stand. He wouldn’t let the crown of his creation ally itself with the prince of darkness. So what did he do? He declared war: I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed. He will crush your head, and you will crush his heel (Genesis 3:15). So you see this amazing truth: the sender of this sword, the source of the single greatest division between people on earth – between believer and unbeliever – is not the devil, but God.

Now, we’d probably be just fine if this sword were aimed at drug dealers and pedophiles and anarchists and Muslims, but Jesus points this sword much closer to home: I came to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man’s enemies will be the members of his own household. Now, understand this correctly. Jesus’ goal is not to divide and destroy families. And thank God for the families that stay together and pray together and go to church together. But sadly, just as often, division and bitterness result when Christ is confessed. I know that many of you have personal experience with that sword. You have baptized and confirmed sons and daughters who have turned their back on their Savior to chase after the things of this world. You have siblings who are avowed atheists. You have spouses who think going to church is stupid and childish. Many of you have felt the sword strike division in your own homes and your own heart – and it hurts.

Why is it this way? Why isn’t it obvious to everyone, especially the people we love, that in view of the fact that one day we will all die, the only logical thing to do is follow and confess the only one who can give us eternal life? Why does your family resent and dislike and mock you because you do? Two reasons. First, they don’t want to hear or be reminded that their chosen lifestyle, their behavior, their beliefs are sinful in the eyes of God. Whenever you confess the truth of the Law, you’re are a reminder that they stand under God’s judgment. Second, you stand before them as a living, breathing example of someone who confesses their desperate need for a Savior. And many people don’t want to hear that. They want to think they’re good enough on their own. They want to believe that their best efforts can save them. And whenever you confess the Gospel you’re reminding them that they’re not and they can’t. Is it any surprise that they resent you? So grow up, Christians, don’t be surprised when the Gospel of peace proves to be a divisive sword in your own home and family.

And even if you’ve been blessed to not experience the sword in your own home, it’s clearly drawing blood in our nation, isn’t it? Not too long ago scholars used to describe America as a post-Christian nation – meaning that while some of the remnants of Christian values and morals remain, Christianity was no longer the primary worldview in public affairs. I don’t think that description is accurate anymore. I believe our society has become actively anti-Christian. It’s not just in the obvious ways: that the Ten Commandments have been torn out of courtrooms or that there was a rainbow flag flying over our state capitol during the month of June – or even that there are over 2000 abortions performed in our country every day. [1] (Based on the doctrine of the two kingdoms, I don’t believe we have a right to insist on the first two. And the third, abortion, is not a matter of faith at all, but a matter of natural law and human rights.) It’s that when you confess Jesus Christ as the only Savior you’re automatically labeled an intolerant bigot. It’s that in this new “cancel culture” you can lose your job just for confessing Christ as the Savior of all – as one Milwaukee area man did just a few weeks ago. It’s that state and local officials are dead-set against allowing tax payers to use their own tax money to send their children to Christian schools and that these same people have, during this pandemic, specifically targeted churches to hinder their operation. The world doesn’t just want Christ and his cross removed from public buildings anymore, it wants them removed from the public consciousness altogether. But again, this shouldn’t surprise us, this is the world Jesus warned us about.

It’s somewhat ironic then, that while the world is trying to get rid of the cross, Jesus tells us whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Today we fashion bright and shiny crosses to adorn our churches and decorate our homes and tattoo them on our bodies – we take pride in the cross. But in the Roman Empire, the cross was a symbol of shame; it had only one purpose: to kill. That’s Jesus’ point here. If you want to follow him, you must be prepared to die. This dying happens in two ways. First, there’s a certain dying that happens as the sword of the Gospel separates us from the people close to us and from the unbelieving world. And, who knows, one day it may become more than just verbal, social and legal harassment; one day they may come for our church, our homes, even our lives. Certainly we know that throughout world history, violent persecution of Christians is the rule, not the exception. Just as others have carried this cross in the past, we may be asked to carry it in the future.

But there’s another, more personal, aspect of the cross that we bear when we confess Christ. And that is the putting to death of self, our sinful nature – the old Adam, as it’s called. What does this mean? It means putting to death the sinful desires we were born with that want to take control of our lives. The lust, hatred, jealousy, anger, greed, selfishness, drunkenness (Galatians 5:19-21) – those desires that rise up so naturally in our hearts – they need to be put to death each and every day. How? Only God can do this, and God has chosen to do this through Baptism. But, contrary to popular belief, Baptism is not a one-time event but a slow execution that lasts a lifteime. Luther explains, “Baptism means that the old Adam in us should be drowned by daily contrition and repentance, and that all its evil deeds and desires be put to death. It also means that a new person should daily arise to live before God in righteousness and purity forever” (SC Baptism 4). As brutal as the war between the powers of heaven and hell is out there – the fiercest struggle is taking place right here: in our hearts. Going to war with self daily, putting the old Adam to death through repentance – that is the nature of life for baptized Christians, that is the cross we all bear for confessing Christ.

And so, according to Jesus, we are in a lose / lose situation: whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. If all you’re looking for in Christianity is your best life now; a nice, comfortable life with no problems – then, ironically, you’re going to lose out on true life. You will never know, never experience the eternal life Jesus wants you to have. But when you lose your life, now; when you don’t define yourself by who you are or what you have or what you’ve done, when you give up thinking that you’re good enough for God, when you throw yourself on Christ alone, when you properly view your 70 or 80 years here primarily as preparation for eternity – then, and only then, you will find true life.

And that’s the life Jesus came to this earth to win for you. And do you know how he did it? Not coincidentally, with the three things we’ve been talking about: a sword, a cross, and a life. We may face some degree of hostility from our families and from the world for our confession – but it doesn’t compare to what Jesus endured. His family called him crazy (Mark 3:21). His own brothers didn’t believe in him (John 7:5). One of his disciples betrayed him (Luke 22:47) and his best friend disowned him (Matthew 26:69-75). But never once did he let his natural love for those closest to him overcome his love for God – and his perfect life is now yours! Right now we may endure harassment and persecution from the world, but 2000 years ago the world took Jesus, physically assaulted him, falsely convicted him, brutally whipped him, and nailed him to a cross. A cross that wasn’t just composed of wood and nails but of the sins of the world. All the sexually immoral, hateful, angry, greed, selfish things we have thought and said and done – Jesus suffered the wrath of God and the fires of hell free us from them. He didn’t just feel like he was dying on the inside – he did die, he gave up his life suffering the eternal death we deserved. But then…three days later, he took his life up again.

And that’s the new life Jesus brings to you today. It’s his life, the resurrected life. It is life that is not affected by divisions in the family, by persecution from the world, by sin or even death. And as a baptized Christian, not only will you rise to live and rule forever with Jesus, but this new life is yours right now. Your confession of Christ may cost you family ties here on earth, but that confession ties you, binds you, unites you to the family of believers you see around you and to all of the prophets and apostles who have gone before you – they are your true family. The world may mock and scorn you – but you know the truth; that this world and its desires pass away (1 John 2:17). So, I’ll ask again, is it worth it, knowing that confessing Christ will bring a sword and a cross into your life? Not only is it worth it, we thank God for the privilege to suffer the sword and bear the cross in this world because through it, Jesus brings us true life, life that starts now and will never end. Amen.

[1] https://www.guttmacher.org/fact-sheet/induced-abortion-united-states?gclid=CjwKCAjwxqX4BRBhEiwAYtJX7YDTiRsRONq_hBBH4z_aYowqqqaw9aV6p2u9jc_kpXMyizJokD6IVRoCBV8QAvD_BwE

Matthew 10:24-33 - Encouragement from Jesus to Witness to the World - July 5, 2020 (Pastor Glen Schmiege)

What is a witness? A witness is one who hears or sees something.  Jesus called his disciple to be his witnesses to his forgiveness, love, death and resurrection to the world. He has called us to do the same. Jesus reminds us of what we will encounter as we share what Jesus has done, how he forgives and how he has loved us. He takes on the very challenging emotion of fear. Fear can stop us from ever being a witness to what Jesus has done for us. Fear is one of the most challenging of human emotions whether you are a child or an adult. Hasn’t that been your experience? It’s such a common happening in our lives, in every stage and aspect of our lives, and I don’t care how tough, how confident, how independent an exterior a person displays, everyone experiences fear on some level and to some extent. The question is: How do you deal with it? And, how do you help others who are dealing with fear? The best way to help a person who is afraid is to simply to be there, i.e. showing them you care, giving your support, assuring them that they aren’t alone during their difficult time. The ongoing practice of God and a recurring theme of Scripture from Genesis all the way through to Revelation is to show he cares and reassures us of his love for us.  In fact, in our text for today, Jesus says, “Do Not Be Afraid,” three times…showing us, in three very distinct ways how He is there for us…giving us three very compelling reasons why we have absolutely no reason to be afraid. Encouragement from Jesus to Witness to the World

It’s important to keep in mind the context of Jesus’ words here in this section of Matthew which begins back in chapter 9 and leads into chapter 10 where Jesus sends out His 12 disciples to preach the Gospel. And, in doing so, He sends them out with some instructions as to how they were to carry out their work as well as a warning of what they would face as they carried out their work. Jesus said to them in Matthew 10:16 , “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves.” In other words, Jesus is saying, “You WILL be persecuted.” Do you think the disciples were surprised when Jesus took the discussion in this direction? The Bible doesn’t specifically answer that question for us, but we do know that Christians today (including us) are sometimes surprised when things don’t go in our favor. We even get bitter at God sometimes for allowing us to suffer. We’re shocked that tolerance seems to extend to everyone, except to Christians.

But what did you expect?! Doesn’t Jesus give us a ‘heads-up’ on all of this? Didn’t He say that “The love of most will grow cold” (Matthew 24:12 )…that “Many will fall away from the faith” (Matthew 24:10 )…that“If the head of the house has been called Beelzebub, how much more the members of his household”? If you don’t want to be treated like Jesus, of whose house and family you are a member, then don’t be a follower of Jesus… Now, of course, I’m NOT encouraging that in the least bit. I’m just saying that it comes with the territory and that the alternative is infinitely worse. In fact, it’s a one-of-a-kind, priceless privilege to be a member of God’s household…to be lumped together with the Creator and Savior of the universe…yes, even to suffer for the sake of Christ…to be guided by His Word and comforted by His promises. Jesus gives us that guidance and those promises in our text for today. He says, “Do Not Be Afraid of them,”i.e. of those who persecute you, because “There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known.” I can’t help but to think of the Psalmists who lamented the success of those who hated God…those who plotted against God’s people…those whose mocking of God seemed, at times, to go unchecked. Yet, King David still assures us that “the power of the wicked will be broken” (Psalm 37:17 a)…that “their swords will pierce their own hearts” (Psalm 37:15 )…that “evil men will be cut off”(Psalm 37:9 a). And he also says that “those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land” (Psalm 37:9 b)…that “they will be protected forever” (Psalm 37:28 b). Certainly we can think of the people in our family, neighborhood, work place that we have tried to bring the truth of God’s love in Jesus. They can even respond by saying I believe in Jesus but who want nothing to do with Jesus. Their rejection does not diminish the comfort that Jesus gives us here in this verse, i.e. that the truth always prevails that the truth will, one day, be made known to all people…that the truth for which Christians have suffered for thousands of years will, one day, be that by which we are saved. So, “Do Not Be Afraid,” Jesus says, your day is coming…your eternity awaits.

“Do Not Be Afraid,” Jesus says, “of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” And He also goes on to say at the end of our text, “Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven.” In other words, Jesus is saying, “If you’ve ever been ashamed of me… If you’ve ever turned away from an opportunity to talk about me… If you’ve ever cowered in fear, keeping your faith to yourself, then, yes, you have reason to be afraid.” And the scary part is that we all know that this isn’t a question of ‘If?’, but a question of ‘When?’ and ‘How many times?’. How many times have I disowned Jesus in my life? How many times have you disowned Jesus in your life? How many times have we been afraid of how our faith and witness would be received? How many times have we assumed that our witness would be ineffective, so we didn’t even bother with it? How many times have we blamed God for our lack of witness saying that He just hasn’t given us the gifts for it? That is scary…that does give us reason to be afraid because each of us is very well aware of what we have said – or not said – about our Savior.

But you’ll notice here that Jesus seems to be a little confused when He says, “Do not be afraid,” and then he says, “Be afraid,” and then He says again, “Do not be afraid.” Well, He’s not confused…He’s just speaking to both our old sinful self as well as to our new spiritual self. My old sinful self cowers in a corner and tells me to be afraid of God because of my sin…while my new spiritual self, along with Jesus, says, “Do Not Be Afraid” because, while the Lord doesn’t tolerate sin, He has already punished His Son for my sin and yours…enabling Him to forgive and forget our sin. When you, along with that tax collector, cry out, “Lord, have mercy on me a sinner,” the Lord Jesus turns to you and says, “That mercy is already yours because the guilt has been removed, the burden has been lifted, the sin has been forgiven.” And this comes from the One, the only One, who holds the keys to eternal life.

“Do Not Be Afraid,” Jesus says a third time, “[because] you are worth more than many sparrows.” Despite what many ‘experts’ say, the key to longevity is the fact that we, as soul-carrying creatures, are the pride and joy of God’s creation. Just look at how sufficiently, how meticulously, how lovingly the Lord cares for the sparrows who, by earthly standards, are a rather insignificant part of His creation. See how He provides for those creatures who don’t save for retirement… See how He protects those whose lives could be ended so easily and so quickly by so many other creatures on this planet… See how life for just one of those seemingly insignificant birds begins and ends only with His permission and knowledge… And then be reminded of the fact that “you are worth more than many sparrows” put together. “Do Not Be Afraid” for “even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” The fact that God knows such insignificant information about you demonstrates just how much He loves you…how fiercely He protects you…how closely He holds on to you…how generously He provides for you…and how anxious He is to present to you your crown of eternal life!

Fear is one of the rawest of human emotions, one that creeps into every aspect of our lives. And yet,  as simplistic or impossible as it may sound, we really have absolutely no reason to be afraid of anything, even of death itself because when Jesus says, “Do Not Be Afraid,” He backs up this Gospel command with some incredibly comforting and reliable assurances…assurances to bless and keep you close to Him beyond the limits of life on this earth and into the glory of life everlasting. The encouragement from Jesus to witness to the world is a constant in our world as we witness to the greatest message which changes lives eternally.  Take Jesus encouragement to witness to the world starting with your own world confident of his promise to be with you. 

Matthew 9:35-10:8 - Jesus Sends Out Harvesters, Then and Now - June 28, 2020

Then and now. Past and present. That distinction has become quite an issue in recent days, hasn’t it? Music, movies, literature, statues and even maple syrup bottles from the past are being rewritten, revised, removed and even destroyed, supposedly because they don’t match the societal values of today. There are three fairly obvious reasons this movement is foolish and misguided. First, as the 19th century poet famously said: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” [1] Destroying the past makes for a bleak future. Second, while you can rewrite history books and tear down statues – you cannot really change the past; what’s done is done. Finally, the point that relates to our text today – this movement fails to recognize that there are real and fundamental differences between past and present – and to impose the supposedly “enlightened” values of 2020 on past generations is intellectually lazy and dishonest. In the same way, Jesus, the Lord of the harvest, sent out workers into his harvest field in the past and he will continue doing so until the end of time, but there are real, substantial differences between “then” and “now.”  

We start with then. “Then” is about 28 A.D. Jesus has been traveling throughout Israel preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every sickness. At first it might appear that this is just a generic description of Jesus’ ministry, but there is actually a close link between his message and his miracles. In Jesus, heaven has come to earth. In heaven, there is no sickness or disease – no cancer, no Covid-19, no diabetes, no arthritis, no miscarriages – none of any of the awful effects of sin that make our lives miserable today. Therefore, where Jesus is, heaven is, and where heaven is, sickness and disease cannot be. Like pouring water into a glass displaces the air, Jesus displaces evil. These miracles served as signs; to signify the reality of his kingdom’s spiritual blessings, Jesus gives physical ones.

The problem is that, both then and now, people tend to focus on the physical rather than the spiritual – looking for earthly rather than heavenly blessings from Jesus and his Church. They may say, “But didn’t Jesus feed and heal hundreds during his ministry?” Yes, he did. But he didn’t heal or feed or raise everyone. And even those he did got hungry and sick and died again. But he did come to do something for every suffering soul in this world – he came to die to save them from eternal death (1 John 2:2). That was the real goal of Jesus’ ministry, as Matthew comments: When he saw the crowds, he was moved with compassion for them, because they were troubled and downcast, like sheep without a shepherd. Jesus was concerned about the crowd’s spiritual condition – not merely because they were sick without a doctor, depressed without a therapist, or poor without a banker!

At the same time, it’s not surprising that the unbelieving world has a mistaken idea of what the real problems of life really are. Global warming is truly terrifying to those who have no hope for a new world to come (Revelation 21:1). Dying of Covid-19 is really the worst thing that can happen to someone who doesn’t believe in the resurrection of the dead. Stopping the hatred of other human beings is the most pressing issue for those who don’t much care that the wrath of God burns against them for their sins. And it’s so easy for us to fall into the same trap, isn’t it? Even though we pray the Lord’s Prayer regularly (Matthew 6:9-13) – of which only one petition is concerned with earthly things (the fourth) – how often don’t we get wrapped up in the earthly problems we face, looking to God for material rather than spiritual blessings, for a happier life now than eternal life in heaven?

Then again, this misplaced focus is nothing new. Jesus had to redirect the focus of his first disciples, too. He urges them to beg the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into his harvest. Why did Jesus have to tell them to pray for more ministers of the Gospel? Because while they could certainly see the sick and helpless crowds, they couldn’t see the underlying spiritual suffering – that these people needed spiritual leadership, not just medical assistance. By offering this encouragement to pray, Jesus is refocusing his disciples on the real problems in this world: sin and guilt and eternal death.

And…then, in the very next verse (10:1), he answers their prayer. He sends out workers, twelve of them into his harvest field. Their mission was to be an extension of his own. He sends them to the lost sheep of the house of Israel just as he had been exclusively teaching in their synagogues. He sends them to preach…‘The kingdom of heaven is near!’ just as he had been preaching the gospel of the kingdom. He sends them to heal the sick. Raise the dead. Cleanse lepers. Drive out demons. Just as he had been healing every disease and every sickness.

They were to proclaim that in Jesus, heaven had come to earth. Why? John says that this is why the Son of God appeared: to destroy the works of the Devil (1 John 3:8). What is the devil’s work? You might think it’s what you see on the nightly news: disease, destruction, rioting, racism, death. But those are only symptoms of the far greater problems of sin and unbelief, spiritual apathy and indifference, idolatry, hatred of God and his Son – that’s the devil’s real work because that’s how he leads helpless sheep to hell with him. That’s the work Jesus came to destroy – and that couldn’t be accomplished by miracles.

If it could, there would have been no need for the Son of God to become flesh and blood. He simply could have spoken from heaven and banished all disease and sickness and death forever. But, again, those are only symptoms of the tragic fact that we have failed to live up to God’s standard of holiness, that we stand guilty and condemned under his Law, that we owe him a debt we couldn’t pay in a million years. But Jesus could and Jesus did. That’s why he came. While we must confess that we have done evil and failed to do good – Jesus did no evil and never failed to do good. He lived the perfect life God demanded and God in his grace has credited that perfect life to our account. The result is that in a world filled with rules and laws and guidelines and should’s and ought’s that place ever new and heavier burdens on our consciences, the Gospel of the kingdom says that there is no law, no command, no obligation that Jesus hasn’t already kept in our place. Jesus has set us free from the demands and threats and punishments of the Law (Romans 8:2).

And the same is true for the debt we owed God. People sometimes wonder how a loving God could actually punish unbelievers in hell for all eternity. The answer is simple: the punishment matches the crime; we’ve wracked up a debt so large that we could never pay it (Psalm 49:7-8). But what we could never do, not in all eternity, Jesus did on Calvary. As God himself Jesus was able to suffer an eternity of damnation on a cross in a matter of hours. Jesus’ suffering and death was holy, perfect and complete. The result is that no one – not the devil, not the ungodly world, not even your own conscience – can hang the threat of hell over your head any longer! There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1)! The price has been paid! The blood he shed “then” continues to wash away sins “now.”

That’s the beating heart of the gospel of the kingdom. And just like then, Jesus is still moved with compassion for the masses of people who are like sheep without a shepherd – that is, those who are still oppressed by the devil’s lies and don’t know that their sins are forgiven and their debt is paid – and he still sends workers out to restore and harvest lost sheep with this Gospel. But there are some important practical differences in how he does this.

First, Jesus and his apostles proclaimed: the kingdom of heaven is near! What do we preach? The kingdom of heaven is here. What? How can that be? Where are the visible signs of the kingdom? They are there, if you know where to look. In Baptism, God himself raised you from spiritual death to spiritual life through water and the Word. In the Absolution God himself announces that you have been cleansed of the incurable disease of sin. In Holy Communion, the Son of God offers you his own body and blood to eat and to drink for the healing of your conscience and the strengthening of your faith. These are the visible, tangible signs that Jesus is still displacing the evil of sin and unbelief today – still bringing the blessings of heaven to earth “now.”

Second, “then” Jesus sent out the apostles only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Now he sends workers to gather disciples from all nations (Matthew 28:19). Third, and perhaps the most misunderstood difference is that “then” Jesus sent his apostles with the power and authority to do miracles. Today we have no such authority. In the three letters directly addressed to NT pastors, there is no command or promise regarding healing, raising or cleansing. What you will find is the command to preach the word…Correct, rebuke, and encourage, with all patience and teaching (2 Timothy 4:2). What you will find from our Lord’s own mouth after his resurrection is the command to go and gather disciples from all nations by baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and by teaching them to keep all the instructions I have given you (Matthew 28:19-20).

So what are we to make of all this? There’s an uncomfortable tension “then” and “now.” If now is so much different from then, should we just erase the miracles and the healings from our Bibles – like some are trying to do with American history? Or maybe, should we demand that pastors today to do miracles and wonders to validate their message? The answer is “no’ to both. No, we shouldn’t erase the miracles and ministry of Jesus’ apostles – because their miracles and their message are still the foundation of saving faith today (Ephesians 2:20). And no, we shouldn’t expect pastors today to be running around doing miracles today – not only because they have no command or promise from God; but because even if I could make you all rich, all the money in the world can’t buy eternal life; even if I could rid the world of Covid-19, people would continue to suffer from cancer and heart disease and violence; even if I could raise the dead, they would just die again another day.

More importantly, if I had the power and authority to make your life here on earth perfect and pain-free, what wouldn’t you long and hope for? The eternal life that is to come. Sure, I suppose more people would be interested in our church if I could cure Covid-19 – but I’m glad I can’t. Because when you come here, it shouldn’t be because you expect to have all of your worldly problems solved, it should be to find answers to the eternal problems of sin, death and hell. The mission of the church has never been to give you your best life now – but to proclaim that Jesus came to permanently destroy the devil’s work and that one day he will return to raise all the believers and take them to heaven where there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain (Revelation 21:4) – where you will have your best life forever. And then, now and always, the hope of the glory of heaven that Jesus won for us is the only thing that can give us true comfort and joy – especially in the trials and troubles of this present time. Thank the Lord for sending workers to gather a harvest of souls with this true Gospel message. Amen.

[1] https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/George_Santayana

Matthew 9:9-13 - Learn From Matthew - June 21, 2020

Today is Father’s Day. When you think of your own father, and consider what you would like to say to him or thank him for today, what would it be? It’s a little different than what we tell our mother’s on Mother’s day, isn’t it? We generally thank our mothers for taking care of us when we’re sick, for making our meals, for keeping us alive. But fathers, what was their contribution? In general, I believe we think of all the things our fathers taught us: how to throw a football and cast a fishing lure, how to ride a bike and drive a car, and, hopefully, above all, to know and love God and his Word. Fathers, today you get a break from teaching, today we all get to sit at Jesus’ feet and learn some life lessons from one of the more unlikely apostles: Matthew, the tax collector.

So, what exactly can a person learn from a tax collector? First, humility. We see Matthew’s humility in what he writes and in what he chooses not to write about himself. Mark and Luke, in their parallel accounts, call Matthew by his given name: Levi (Mark 2:14; Luke 5:27), which means “associate.” But Matthew never calls himself Levi but always Matthew, which means “Gift of the Lord.” We assume that this is the name he received once Jesus found him and rescued him from his sins, from certain death and from slavery to the devil. He recognized that his new life of faith was completely God’s gift to him – and so, Levi is now Matthew from now on. We also see Matthew’s humility in how he describes himself. Each of the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) record a list of the twelve apostles (Matthew 10:2-4; Mark 3:16-19; Luke 6:13-16) – and while every list identifies Judas Iscariot as the one who would betray Jesus, only Matthew’s own list identifies him as a tax collector (Matthew 10:3). In this simple way, Matthew confesses that he was a lost sinner before Jesus came into his life and called him to faith.  

We see Matthew’s humility in what he writes about himself…and in what he leaves out. In Luke’s account of Matthew’s calling, he notes that Matthew left everything, got up, and followed Jesus (Luke 5:28). In Matthew’s own gospel however, while he records that other apostles left everything to follow Jesus (Matthew 4:22), he doesn’t say anything remotely praiseworthy about himself. In his view, what he did was not worth mentioning. Rather it was what Jesus did for Matthew, calling and converting him from a despised tax collector into an apostle, that’s what Matthew remembered and wrote down.

There’s a lesson for all of us – and especially fathers, isn’t there? How quick aren’t we to boast about all we are, all we’ve done – while conveniently leaving out the ugly, dark, and unmentionable parts of our past – not only in the stories we tell our children but even in our own minds? Let us therefore learn humility from Matthew. Let us learn that the only name that really matters is the name our Lord gave us when he called us to faith in Baptism (Revelation 2:17); that if it wasn’t for our Savior’s regular gift of forgiveness, we would still have to identify ourselves as idolaters and adulterers, as murderers and thieves, as failed husbands and fathers (1 Corinthians 6:9-11); may we finally learn that if there is anything worthwhile that we have done, it is only by the grace of God working in us (1 Corinthians 15:10). This Father’s Day, let us all learn humility from Matthew.

The second lesson we can learn from Matthew has to do with sacrifice. Even though Matthew himself didn’t see it worth mentioning, Luke tells us that he left everything, got up, and followed Jesus (Luke 5:28). While tax collectors were generally reviled in Jesus’ day just as much as debt collectors are today – there’s no doubt that Matthew was giving up a very profitable career to follow Jesus. Fathers, are we willing to do the same? No, I’m not asking whether you’re willing to quit your job and head to the seminary or become a missionary. I’m asking whether you are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to put God’s Word – and leading your families into God’s Word – before everything else in your life? Do you read Bible stories and sing hymns and pray with your children – or do you delegate spiritual matters to your wife? When you go on vacation do you take the lead in continuing family devotions and seeking out a church to attend – or do you lead your family to take a vacation from Jesus when you’re away from home? When Sunday school resumes in the fall, will you stick around to deepen your own understanding of Scripture in Bible class – or are you teaching by example that Bible study is just for kids? I could cite dozens of studies that show that when children grow up they are more likely to imitate the religious habits of their fathers than their mothers – but I don’t think I have to. Just think about what your own father’s habits and routines were and then consider your own habits and routines today. Fathers, the Bible makes it clear that you are the spiritual leaders, the pastors, of your families (Ephesians 6:4) – learn from Matthew to sacrifice whatever it is that might get in the way of carrying out that eternally important job.

But…and this is a big BUT…but don’t do it in order to make God happy. Don’t make these sacrifices in order to earn your heavenly Father’s favor. That’s idolatry. It’s idolatrous to believe that our meager sacrifices appease God. That’s what the worshipers of Baal and Asherah and Molech believed in the OT which led them to sacrifice their children, engage in sexually immoral behavior with temple prostitutes and shout and slash themselves to get their god’s attention (Leviticus 20:1-3; Deuteronomy 12:31; 1 Kings 18; 14:23-24). This is still what people do today when they promise to do this or that for God if only they will heal them of a sickness or give them a promotion or do this or that for their children or grandchildren. It’s not that God doesn’t sometimes require us to sacrifice; it’s that none of these sacrifices can satisfy God’s anger over our sins. Peter writes: if God did not spare angels when they sinned but handed them over to chains of darkness…and if God did not spare the ancient world but preserved Noah…along with seven others…and if God condemned the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to destruction, by turning them into ashes when he made them an example of things to come for the ungodly (2 Peter 2:4-6) – do you really think that God’s wrath can be appeased by any feeble sacrifice of time, money or energy we make? Those who think they can placate God’s wrath by sacrificing goats or bulls or their children or their time, money and talent fail to understand how much God hates sin. The same God who drowned the entire population of the world, except for Noah’s family; who sent fire and brimstone to burn up Sodom and Gomorrah still burns with fury today at the sin he sees in our world and in our lives. Make no mistake, God hates both sin and the sinner (Psalm 5:4-5) – and nothing we could ever sacrifice could ever appease him.

God is so angry at sinners that the only thing that could appease his anger is God himself. Because all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23), it took God in human flesh to live a life that stood up to his standard of perfection (Matthew 5:48).  And when it came to paying for sins, neither the blood of goats or bulls nor the blood, sweat and tears of people like us could pay for even a single one because we are all tainted by sin (Hebrews 10:4). The only sacrifice that could appease God’s righteous anger was Jesus’ sacrifice of himself on the cross. And the good news is that Jesus’ sacrifice worked! As Paul says since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ (Romans 5:1).

And that, fathers, is why we will be willing to sacrifice anything to follow Jesus and take our families with us. That’s the lesson Jesus was trying to teach the Pharisees when he said go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ In fact, I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners. God doesn’t desire sacrifices from us to appease his wrath – he desires to be merciful to us for Jesus’ sake. And once you know and believe that wonderful truth – that’s when your sacrifices don’t feel like sacrifices at all. That’s when you are glad to skip out of work early (perhaps sacrificing a potential promotion or pay-raise) to lead your family in prayer at the dinner table. That’s when you sacrifice your own hobbies and interests in order to spend time with your children and be their God-given role model. That’s when we have a room full of men for a voter’s meeting (as we did last week) and a council full of men willing to give of their time and effort to lead this church. All of that happens not because you don’t want God to be angry with you but because you know and believe that because of Jesus – he’s not.

And if you have any doubt that God desires to be merciful to you, then you will get tangible proof in just a few minutes. The Pharisees despised Jesus for his willingness to eat with tax collectors and sinners. They believed that if Jesus really was the Messiah – that he would only eat with righteous people – like themselves; not with those who were clearly “sinners,” like Matthew and his friends. You fathers may believe that the responsibilities God has placed on you are too much for any man to bear. And you’d be half right. It’s far too much for a sinful man like me or you to bear – but it’s not too much for the God-man, Jesus, to bear. And that’s why he invites you to come up here to this table to eat with him. Because you’re sick and need a doctor. Because Jesus came to call sinners, and we all qualify.

In fact, our Lutheran forefathers cited these verses as the very reason that we should eagerly and often receive the Lord’s Supper. The Formula of Concord says that these words of Jesus prove that communion was ordained for those who “have a weak faith and are shy, troubled, and heartily terrified because of the great number of their sins. They think that in their great impurity they are not worthy of this precious treasure and Christ’s benefits. They feel their weakness of faith and lament it, and from their hearts desire that they may serve God with stronger, more joyful faith and pure obedience. These are truly worthy guests for whom this highly venerable Sacrament has been especially instituted and appointed” (FC SD VII:69).

Learn about God’s mercy from Matthew. Learn that Jesus doesn’t hold his nose as he sees stinking sinners like us come up to eat at his table. Learn that he instituted this meal of his body and blood not for the self-righteous, not for those who think they can do without it, but for the unrighteous, for those who know they are doomed without it. The Lord Jesus didn’t give his body and shed his blood for healthy people, but for people like us, who are sick with sin; who desperately need this powerful medicine to wash away our sins and assure us that eternal life is ours.

Today is Father’s Day – and today all of us, but especially we fathers, can learn from Matthew the tax collector. Learn humility – that’s it not about you but about what God has done for you and is doing in you. Learn to sacrifice – not to appease God’s anger but because Jesus already has. And finally, learn that Jesus doesn’t call you to follow him, to hear his Word, to the high honor of being a father to his children – to make you earn his love – but to have mercy on you, to give you the forgiveness of sins, life and salvation. Above all, learn that this sermon was not really about Matthew at all – but about Jesus and his mercy to unworthy sinners like him and us. Amen.