Luke 2:22-40 - Savor Your Christmas Freedom - December 27, 2020

As our lives move faster and faster bringing more and more obligations and as technology has left little room for escape, it’s no wonder that people are searching for help to deal with it all. This help can be found in “life management” books and seminars and advisers. We even had a seminar at the Seminary which covered the general techniques you can use to help you better manage your life. It consists of organizing your obligations and your time into a series of various boxes, endlessly dividing and subdividing them until every moment of your day is scheduled on paper. I’ve never been able to fit my life into a series of boxes, so I’ve never found this technique helpful – maybe you have, and more power to you. But one thing I am sure of is that no matter how efficiently you organize your life on paper, you’re still the one responsible; you’re still obligated to get everything done. And any time we are obligated to do something, it’s a manifestation of the law – and no manmade scheme can free you from the law. That’s why we’re going to savor Christmas today, because Christmas means that we are free from the many obligations, the many arms, of the law.

 

What’s the first thing you think of when you think of “the long arm of the law”? Government, right? No matter who you are, the long arm of government reaches into your life. If you own a business, you have mountains of red tape to cut through just to keep operating. If you have children who attend a government run school you have been involuntarily pressed into service as a teacher and tutor and study hall monitor. If you drive a car you must purchase a license, registration and insurance. We all have to pay taxes. And, as if that weren’t enough, this past year has seen government reaching into our lives in an unprecedented way – with officials dictating when and if we can leave our homes, how many people we can have in our homes, and what we must wear on our faces. This year I’ve come to better understand why my grandfather always used to say that some of the most terrifying words in the English language are “I’m from the government, and I’m here to help you.”

 

But it’s not just the long arm of government that reaches into our lives and seeks to control us. We all have a vocation – which is just a big, fancy term for our role or place in life – as fathers and mothers, as sons and daughters, as employers and employees, as husbands and wives, as brothers and sisters, as friends and acquaintances and church members. How can anyone keep track of and perform all of the demands those various vocations place on us? How do you fit all of those obligations into neat little boxes?

 

And then there’s the longest arm of all: the Ten Commandments. Fear, love and trust in God above all things. Do not misuse the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath Day by keeping it holy. Honor your father and mother. Do not murder. Do not commit adultery. Do not steal. Do not give false testimony. Do not covet. And do all of those things perfectly, all day, every day (Matthew 5:48). There’s no cute, color-coded organizational spreadsheet that can possibly enable you or me or anyone to obey God’s Law as he demands. There is no escape from the long arm of the Law. And that’s why people who don’t stop at the manger at Christmas are so stunned when the mystical Christmas spirit suddenly vanishes the moment the last gift is opened. These are the people who Isaiah described as lifting up their idols of wood and praying to a god that cannot save (Isaiah 45:20). Every year they’re shocked to realize that you can obey the unwritten laws of the Christmas gods with all your heart and time and energy and yet that will never change the fact that on December 26th you’re still nothing more than slave to government officials, credit card companies, spouse and children, and, above all, to a holy God.

 

And that is why it’s good for us to be here today; that’s why we must not leave the Christmas manger so quickly; that’s why we need to stop all our frantic doing and organizing for at least one more hour today to savor Christmas. Because on Christmas, God reached the long arm of his grace out of heaven to us here on earth. To do what? Well, at the risk of sounding hokey or cheesy, to wrestle the long arm of the law into submission.

 

Arm wrestlers are usually big, muscle-bound men. Well, in this case, God sent a baby. But even as a baby, Jesus began wrestling with the Law on our behalf. Just eight days after his birth, Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the Temple to have him circumcised and named (Luke 2:21) – according to the Law (Genesis 17:9-14). But it didn’t end there: when the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord. (As it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male will be called holy to the Lord.”) And they came to offer a sacrifice according to what was said in the law of the Lord, “A pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.” However, even as Jesus was presented at the Temple in accordance with the Law (Exodus 13:12), just like every other first born male, his presentation was different in one very important way: he wasn’t presented in order to be redeemed – for he had no original sin to be redeemed from. No, Jesus was presented at the temple as the Redeemer, the One who would take upon himself the full obligation of the Law and the guilt of our sins and failures (Isaiah 53:4-6; John 1:29). Jesus is presented in the Temple as the new Adam, the new representative of the human race, who had come to rip the long arm of the law out of our lives once and for all.

 

And Jesus’ identity and work didn’t go unrecognized at the Temple that day. Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon. This man was righteous and devout, waiting for the comfort of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. Moved by the Spirit he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what was customary according to the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God. Now, I fully understand that parents and families rejoice and praise God at the birth of a child, but some random old man? I’ve brought four newborn children here to present them to the Lord for baptism (and while ladies have passed them around like a hot cake) but never once has an old man asked me to hold the child. What got Simeon so excited? This: He said, “Lord, you now dismiss your servant in peace, according to your word, because my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared before the face of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel. Simeon grabbed up baby Jesus and praised God because he knew that no matter how righteous and devout he was, he could never satisfy the demands of God’s holy law. But by inspiration of the Holy Spirit he recognized that in his arms he held the baby who could and would – not only for himself but for all people, both Jews and Gentiles. It’s no surprise that Joseph and Mary were amazed at the things that were spoken about him.

 

But what is surprising is that apart from Simeon and Anna, the rest of Jerusalem couldn’t be bothered to stop to notice the baby this poor couple had brought to the Temple. If there was someone who could free you from your obligations, who would do everything you never could, wouldn’t you expect the whole city to be there, waiting their turn to hold the child and praise God? What gives? Wise Simeon explains: listen carefully, this child is appointed for the falling and rising of many in Israel and for a sign that is spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too. In baby Jesus, Simeon saw a polarizing figure, one who would not unite but divide, who did not come to coddle and pamper but to pierce and expose. And while Jesus certainly did that during his ministry – separating desperate sinners from self-righteous Pharisees, the Peters from the Judases, the two thieves on the crosses beside him – he still reaches into our hearts today. Today, a forty day old infant reaches into our neatly packaged and organized lives and reminds us that no matter how much we do, we can’t do enough – by virtue of the simple fact that he wouldn’t have had to come if we could. So 40 day old Jesus forces us to make a decision: are we going to pass by him and keep on futilely wrestling with the law on our own, or are we going to stop and savor the freedom he came to bring?

 

Today, this first Sunday after Christmas, is a minor fulfillment of Simeon’s prophecy. Today, the thoughts of many hearts [have been] revealed. There are those who are spending this morning taking down Christmas lights and tossing trees to the curb; those who are sleeping in and those who are getting a head start on the coming week. By those actions they have revealed their hearts – that, unlike Simeon, they don’t recognize that Jesus is the gift, the comfort, the solution they really need; that he’s the only one who can free them from the hamster wheel of life under the endless demands of the law. Those who have already kicked Christmas to the curb have been exposed as having no more use for Jesus than as an excuse to decorate, give gifts, and party. Those who darken the door of church once a year on Christmas Eve reveal their ignorance of the fact that while a little baby might make them feel all warm and fuzzy inside, what they really need is for those little hands to grow up and be nailed to a cross to suffer and die for their sins. They reveal that they don’t recognize that they need more than for the long arm of God’s grace to reach into a manger in Bethlehem; they needed the long arm of God’s justice to crush him in their place (Isaiah 53:4-6) and then three days later raise him to life as proof of our justification (Romans 4:25). In that way, this first Sunday after Christmas is something of a preview of Judgment Day, when the thoughts of every heart will be revealed for all to see (Ecclesiastes 12:14). And those who have revealed their hearts today by simply passing by this Christmas Gospel have revealed which side of the courtroom they will be standing on when Jesus returns in glory (Matthew 25:31-46) – and when that day comes, they will finally and sadly realize that they were so busy trying to wrestle the Law on their own that they missed their only chance to escape the long arm of God’s law.

 

But, thank God, the long arm of God’s grace has proven long enough to reach you and me. Unlike the masses in Jerusalem who took no notice of that little baby boy; unlike the millions today who have better things to do today than gather to hear the Christmas Gospel again – you are standing where Simeon and Anna once stood, in the house of God, to hear and see and receive the salvation and redemption God gives to you before you go back to the endless hamster wheel of life. The longer arm of God’s grace has reached into your heart and revealed to you that no matter how hard you work, no matter how efficient and organized you are, you can’t please God – but that Jesus has for you. While many speak against this baby – you kneel in awe at his cradle and praise him as the Son of God and the Savior of sinners. And, just like Simeon and Anna, none of the credit belongs to you (that would just be one more obligation). The credit all goes to the long arm of God’s grace which reached down in the waters of Baptism to call us to faith (Romans 6:1-7); which reached into our ears with the sweet words of the Absolution; with the assurance that no matter how badly or how often you have failed – YOUR SINS ARE FORGIVEN (Luke 24:46-47); which reaches into your mouth personally through Holy Communion to strengthen you in faith and prepare you for life eternal (1 Corinthians 11:23-26). The arm of God’s grace is so long that he doesn’t only do everything for you, he has even given you the willingness and desire to stop and receive and believe it.

 

Life management books may help you to organize your life and attain peak efficiency with your time and energy – but they can’t release you from the demands that all of the different arms of the law place on you. But because Jesus’ powerful arm of grace has wrestled the long arm of the Law into submission for us and given us the faith to believe it, we, like Simeon, can depart here in peace. Amen.  

Galatians 4:4-7 - The Time Has Come - December 25, 2020

If I were to ask you what the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received was, I would expect that, at least here in church, you would probably say “Jesus.” And, while that’s true, that’s really only half of the story – the first half of the gift that God gives you on Christmas. We can and we must celebrate God’s gift of his Son to us, but if that’s where Christmas ended, we would still be lost and condemned sinners. Today, the time has come for us to not celebrate merely a coldly historical Christmas but to receive Jesus as God’s warm and personal gift to us.

 

Paul says that God gave this gift when the set time had fully come. What does that mean? Well, from a cosmic (that is, God-like) perspective, it simply means that the 1st century was the time God had always planned to send his Son to save the world. And he has not revealed precisely why he chose that place and time. But it is interesting to consider how God had shaped the world to receive his Son. A perfect storm of seemingly uncontrollable variables all came together at once. Roman rule established peace (the Pax Romana) throughout the inhabited world for the first time in centuries. Roman technology brought civilization in the form of roads and plumbing. Greek culture brought a common language and a love for learning. It wasn’t the “golden age” of Israel under King Solomon, but it wasn’t half-bad either. Protected from her ancient enemies by the Roman legions, Israel was pretty much free to carry out her business as usual (provided she paid her taxes…some things never change). The synagogues were thriving under the rabbinic teaching of the Pharisees. The temple was humming along under the Sadducees and Herod was busy renovating it to secure the loyalty of the Jews.

 

The people were in a watchful mood; waiting, expectant, hopeful. They had a sense of being on the threshold of something big. God had been strangely silent for over 400 years. There had been some bright spots, such as the Maccabean revolt against Antiochus Epiphanes – the event that continues to be celebrated as the festival of Hannukah. But the glory had long departed from the Temple. There was no ark of the covenant in the Holy of Holies (Jeremiah 3:16). The priesthood had become a family business operated more for political power and personal gain than the reconciliation of sinners to God (Luke 3:2). It all combined to give the sense that God was about to act. Simeon, an elderly prophet in the Temple, had even been told by God himself that he wouldn’t die until he had seen the Messiah with his own eyes (Luke 3:26).

 

This was the set time of which Paul speaks. All the pieces of the puzzle were in place. That’s when the eternal Father said to his eternal Son “now” – and in that moment everything changed: the Ruler of history entered human history, the Creator became the creature, the Word became flesh, and the Son of God was born of a woman. This is how it had to be. Everyone has a mother, and our Savior is no exception. In order to become like [us] in every way (Hebrews 2:17), he had to be conceived in a woman and born like us. His Father, of course, is another story. In that way he is not like us, but in that way he is the perfect parallel to Adam. He is humanity’s second Adam, it’s new representative (Romans 5:12-21). He was born without the original sin of Adam, and yet he is born of a woman and therefore is like us in every other way. That’s why you can’t say, “To sin is to be human.” It’s not. It’s un-human. God didn’t create humans to sin (Ephesians 4:24). In that way, Jesus is the only “true” human – he’s bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh and had to be nursed and changed and burped just like every other newborn baby – except that he was sinless.

 

But he was, as Paul says, born under the law. This is part of his state of humiliation. Jesus, the Lord of the Law (Matthew 12:8), humbled himself and became obedient to it. He did this actively; he kept the Law perfectly. He did this passively; he suffered the punishment we all deserved for breaking the Law – to the point of death on a cross (Philippians 2:8). That’s why he didn’t just suddenly appear on earth out of thin air. He had to be born under the law – to be obedient to a father and mother and governing authorities. He had to experience the trials and temptations of life in a fallen world. There was no cheating. No divine hand tied behind his back. He had to do it our way; the hard way. He had to live our life the way we live it and die our death the way we die it.

 

Why? In order to redeem those under the law. To redeem means to buy back. Not from the devil – the devil doesn’t own us. Not from sin and death – they hold us captive but they are illegitimate captors. No he came to redeem us from the Law. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15: the sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law (1 Corinthians 15:56). The Law not only stirs up our sinful desire to sin; it not only exposes our sin; but it condemns us to death. The Law can’t give life, it can only kill (2 Corinthians 3:6) – and that’s exactly what it did to Jesus.

 

And that’s perhaps the most remarkable thing about Christmas. Jesus’ humiliation wasn’t limited to being born of a woman in lowly circumstances under the law, it consisted in him becoming our sin for us. It would be like someone today intentionally becoming infected with Covid-19 in order to save others (if that were possible). Jesus didn’t sin but he became our sin so that the sledgehammer of God’s wrath fell on him instead of on us. He redeemed us by becoming sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him (2 Corinthians 5:21). This means that you are free. The Law has no claim on you anymore. It cannot accuse or condemn you anymore. Jesus has traded his birth for yours, his life for yours, his death for yours. Your sins are forgiven in Jesus. The wrath of God is quenched. Death has lost its sting and the grave has lost its victory (1 Corinthians 15:55). Jesus is victorious and you are victorious in him (Romans 8:37).

 

And when you know and believe that, then God’s gift to you this Christmas shifts from a cold 2000 year old historical fact to a very warm and personal gift to you today. Jesus did all these things so that we would be adopted as sons, sons of his own heavenly Father! By virtue of your Baptism you are sons of God – and this includes you women and girls, too (Galatians 3:28) – because you’re sons in the sense of heirs. Jesus gave up everything he rightfully possessed as God’s only begotten Son in heaven so that we could inherit heaven as God’s adopted sons.

That’s why this Christmas, Paul wants us to treasure the second part of God’s Christmas gift to us: he gave us his Son so that we could become his children and his heirs. Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is one of those gifts that has a time delay. It’s like getting a savings bond. I remember getting one as a child. I said, “Great, can we go to the store so I can use it to buy something?” My mom responded, “No, but in 20 years you’ll be able to cash it out for 50 dollars.” “Great…thanks.” But this inheritance isn’t like a savings bond; you don’t have to wait for it to mature because you don’t receive an inheritance when you die; you receive it when someone else does. Jesus was born…and he died. Which means that this inheritance is already ours. Paul explains: Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts to shout, “Abba, Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son. And if you are a son, then you are also an heir of God through Christ. Paul lists four specific gifts that are yours now, to open and hold and cherish today.

 

1) First, in a world full of people who are struggling with identity crises, you have an identity. Where people search for their identity in their career, their appearance, their family, their gender or their gender fluidity, their skin color or political affiliation, you don’t have to do that. Whatever your line of work, whoever you are married to, whatever your politics – you are first and foremost a child of God – and that won’t ever change, even if everything else in your life does.

 

2) Second, you now have the right to pray to God, to call him your “Abba, Father.” Just as I don’t respond to calls of “Daddy” from anyone other than my own children, so God doesn’t hear or respond to anyone who is not his child through faith in his Son (Isaiah 59:2). Many people view prayer as nothing more than a meditative exercise – and understandably so, because anyone who does not come to the Father through Jesus is just wasting their breath (John 14:6). But you, you, dear child of God, have your Father’s promise that he will always hear you and always give you what is best for you (Matthew 6).

 

3) Third, you are no longer a slave, but a son. Do you know what the difference between a slave and a son is? A slave must work to gain and retain status in a household; a son already has status and thus acts appropriately. In other words, this gift of freedom from the Law completely changes the role of the Law. No more do you see the Law as a means of gaining access to God’s family – an empty promise it can never grant; now you see the Law as a guide for how the children of God want to live. Obedience for you is no longer an obligation but a privilege – a way of responding to God’s love and of witnessing to the world: I don’t belong to you anymore, I am God’s own child.

 

4) And, last but not least, if you are a son, then you are also an heir of God through Christ. As we age, I think we all begin lose interest in receiving gifts that can be wrapped in paper or sealed in envelopes. Why? Because eventually what we need most is not another sweater or a new fishing pole – but relief from pain and sickness, from sore backs and meaningless jobs and, let’s be honest, escape from life itself. This is a gift that isn’t found on Amazon but in a manger. And that is the last and greatest gift that God gives you this morning through the birth of his Son in Bethlehem: the promise of freedom from life in this fallen world and the full inheritance of eternal life in heaven.

 

How can you be sure? Because you’ve been baptized. Your baptism is your birth certificate. It tells you who your mother is: the Church, which gave you new birth into God’s family through water and the Word. It tells you who your Father is: God himself who sent his Son to take your place so that you could take his. Your baptism, more than anything else in the world tells you who you are, it tells you who your Father is, that you are free, and where you are going. Baptism is your own personal link to that baby born in Bethlehem. Through baptism, Christmas becomes God’s very warm gift to you personally, a gift you can begin unwrapping now and will enjoy throughout all eternity.

 

So, as you unwrap your gifts today and reflect on the meaning of Christmas, don’t forget that this day isn’t really about gifts or family or food but that 2000 years ago God told his only Son “the time has come” for you to become a man so that sinners may become my heirs. The world may be done with Christmas by tomorrow – or, heck, later on this afternoon. But you, dear children of God, your celebration of Christmas is just getting started. Merry Christmas! Amen.

Luke 1:26-38 - The Mary Problem - December 20, 2020

You know the Beatles’ song Let It Be? There’s a line in that song that used to trouble me: “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.” It troubled me because I assumed that Paul McCartney was referring to Mary, the mother of Jesus, as the one who came to speak to him in times of trouble. It turns out, however, that McCartney saw his own mother, also named Mary, in a dream and it was she who advised him to “Let it Be.” Today we confront what might be called the Mary Problem – and we will find that the answer to this problem is none other than to “Let It Be.”

 

First, what’s the Mary Problem? One side of it is making too much of her. That’s what Catholics do, for example, in the famous Ave Maria – the Hail Mary. You’ve probably heard it before: “Hail Mary, full of grace the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.” While Mary certainly received God’s grace and her Son Jesus is to be blessed, nowhere does the Bible tell us to pray to the saints or that they can pray for us (1 Timothy 2:5). The last part was only added in the 15th century and declared to be authoritative in 1568.

 

The unicorn can show us another aspect of the Mary Problem. If you’ve ever been to or seen St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, you may have noticed a unicorn and wondered what a mythical creature has to do with Christianity. It’s a symbol of the Mary Problem. Mythology says that the only way a unicorn can be caught is for a virgin to go into the woods and sit on a stump. The unicorn comes and places its head in her lap and then it can be captured. The unicorn is said to represent the unapproachable and unreachable 2nd person of the Trinity and the virgin who caught him is Mary. Now the problem isn’t that Mary wasn’t a virgin; our text affirms it three times. The problem is thinking that Mary’s virginity is what attracted Christ to her. [1]

 

Rather than simply assuming that Mary was obedient to the 6th commandment and that virginity is the normal state of an unmarried woman, Catholics assume that Mary was especially holy. This really complicates the Mary Problem. First, how could Mary be holy herself if she was born of a flesh and blood mother and father just like everyone else? Jesus told Nicodemus that whatever is born of flesh is flesh (John 3:6) – that is, sinful, as David confessed in Psalm 51. How did this one girl escape the stain of original sin that infects every other human ever born? Catholics argue that somehow Mary was “redeemed” before she was even conceived – thus she was never infected with original sin. That’s what the Immaculate Conception is all about – not Jesus but Mary’s conception – which was made official Catholic doctrine in 1854 (why it took so long to recognize this as true is anyone’s guess). [2]

 

But that leads to a second problem, doesn’t it? The Bible tells us that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). We don’t die simply because of age or disease or accident – we die because we’re sinners. At the same time, if you don’t sin, you won’t die. Mary died. Do you see the problem? The Catholic church solved it this way: “Finally, the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 252, 966). [3] While the Bible does record that God took Enoch and Elijah home to heaven apart from death (Genesis 5:24; Hebrews 11:5; 2 Kings 2), we are told nothing of the sort about Mary, the mother of Jesus – which is a significant problem!

 

Now, as confessional Lutherans, we might think we are immune to this Mary Problem. We’re not. However, our problem typically isn’t making too much of Mary, but not enough of her. We usually picture Mary as a young, innocent, beautiful and rather naïve girl. Now, she was probably young (14-16 or so); she was no any more innocent than you or I; I can’t speak to whether she was beautiful or not – but from what the Bible tells us about her, she doesn’t appear at all naïve. When you read through the words of the Magnificat (the Song of Mary) later on in Luke (Luke 1:46-55), you see that while these words were certainly inspired by the Holy Spirit, Mary knew her Bible and her theology.

 

Of course, that’s not what caused God to choose her to be the mother of his Son. No, as Gabriel told her, she was chosen only because she had found favor (literally “grace”) with God – grace is always only given and never earned. And yet, we should acknowledge her piety and humility. She was obedient to the 6th commandment. Even though she was going to be the mother of God, she refers to herself as the Lord’s servant. Although she did have parental authority over Jesus, the times she overstepped her bounds – when he was 12 and at the temple (Luke 2:41-52) and at the wedding in Cana (John 2:1-12) – she graciously accepted his rebuke. Even though she knew Jesus better than anyone and was present at his crucifixion (John 19:25-27), after Jesus’ Ascension we find Mary in the upper room with the rest of Jesus’ disciples as just another sinner saved by Jesus’ suffering and not her own (Acts 1:14).

 

And yet, while not recognizing Mary’s piety and humility is sometimes a problem for us, there’s a bigger problem. We have a Mary problem when we don’t see that even though she was visited by an angel, she didn’t base her faith or actions on what she saw with her eyes but on what she heard with her ears. This becomes clear in Mary’s response to all of the amazing and impossible things Gabriel had told her: See, I am the Lord’s servant. May it happen to me as you have said (literally: according to your word). Mary believed the angel because he spoke the Word of God, and she responded and acted appropriately. That’s the real Mary Problem, isn’t it? It’s not that we make too much or not enough of her – but that we aren’t enough like her; that we fail, regularly, to respond to God’s Word by saying may it happen to me as you have said. And that’s where Paul McCartney’s advice comes in: when God speaks, our proper response should be: let it be.

Let it be God’s Word about your sin and sinfulness that you go by – not what you feel in your heart or are told by our secular society. So much of what goes on this time of year gives the impression that the real problems we have are that we don’t have the enough time, enough money, enough health, enough energy, enough freedom, or enough Christmas spirit. Why is it so dangerous to believe that those things are your real problems in life? Because if these are your real problems, then you don’t really need Christmas; you don’t need Jesus. No time? Start earlier next year. Not enough money? Get a side-gig driving Uber. Not enough health? Go get vaccinated. Not enough energy? Will five hours work? You can find that at the gas station. Not enough freedom to do what you want when you want? Don’t worry, no one else is obeying the health department’s advice either. Not enough Christmas spirit? That’s nothing that a few Christmas gifts, a good meal and your favorite adult beverage can’t fix.

 

The thing is that those aren’t your real problems at Christmastime or any time. No, when you go by the Word of God, you discover that your real problem is that you are the offspring of sinful parents who was conceived and born with a sentence of death and damnation hanging over your head (Ephesians 2:1-3). Your problem isn’t just that you don’t have enough money but that you couldn’t possibly scrape together enough silver and gold to buy back your soul (Psalm 49:7-8). It’s not just that you don’t have enough energy to do everything you should – it’s that deep down you don’t really want to do God’s will, you’d much rather do your own. It’s not just that you’re chafing against mandates restricting your freedom – it’s that you aren’t free at all, in any sense of the term; you are by nature a slave of sin and death and the devil. It’s not just that you’re sick or chronically in pain – those are simply symptoms of your looming death. And good luck finding solutions to those real problems with a little extra money or a little extra time.

 

So what’s the solution? Let it be! Let it be God’s Word that delivers you from the lie that you can make everything merry this Christmas by better preparation, with more money or energy or freedom. Find the solution to all of your problems in the promise the angel made to Mary: you will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The real solution to the Mary Problem isn’t making less or more of her – or even trying our best to imitate her – but in recognizing that God in his grace has solved all of our problems by sending his Son to be conceived and born of this young virgin. Not enough time? Jesus spent every moment of his life tirelessly obeying God’s Law as your substitute. Not enough money? Jesus didn’t use silver or gold but his holy, precious blood to redeem you (1 Peter 1:18-19). Not enough freedom? Jesus has freed you from your slavery to sin, death, and the devil by taking your place under God’s wrath in hell’s prison (John 8:31-32). Not enough energy? Because in Jesus God nailed your ugly, lazy, disgusting sinful nature to the cross and put it to death you can now put on the new self, which has been created to be like God in righteousness and true holiness (Ephesians 4:24). Not enough joy? While it’s true that there’s not much to be joyful about these days, because Jesus lives, you too shall live forever (John 14:19), and heaven will exceed all your expectations, even if this Christmas doesn’t.

 

And so, while we shouldn’t pray to Mary or expect her to pray for us, we can strive to be like her. Let God’s Word guide your life, not your thoughts and feelings. Learn from that Word not only about your sinfulness and your Savior but also about the signs God graciously gives to assure you that it’s true. Unlike Zechariah (Luke 1:18), Mary didn’t ask for a sign, she accepted the angel’s words; she just had some logistical questions – like how she was going to have a baby as a virgin. But Gabriel gave her a sign anyway: listen, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age even though she was called barren, and this is her sixth month. For nothing will be impossible with God. Just as God gave Mary a sign to validate his Word, so God gives us signs, visible, tangible, objective signs to validate his Word and anchor our faith – baptism, absolution, and Holy Communion.

 

God gives us these signs because just as Mary asked how will this be? we may be tempted to ask: How can a baby born 2000 years ago in Bethlehem have any real effect in my life today? How can I be sure that Jesus’ life, death and resurrection are my life, death and resurrection? And the answer for you is the same as Gabriel’s answer to Mary: the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit conveys to you, here, today, the gifts Jesus lived and died and rose to win for you. So let Mary’s miracle be yours! Let it be as God’s Word says that you have been baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection (Romans 6:3-5). Let it be as God’s Word says that when I or any other Christian forgives your sins, they are forgiven (John 20:23). Let it be as God’s Word says that this bread is Jesus’ body and this wine is Jesus’ blood which conveys to you personally the gift of everlasting life (Matthew 26:26-29).

 

Don’t make too much of Mary and don’t make too little of her – but do be like her; let your final and most important preparation for Christmas this year be a readiness to receive the Son God has given you. Let it be to you, like it was to her – that God is good to his Word and is fully capable of doing the impossible. He who can conceive his Son inside a virgin’s womb can certainly create faith in hearts like ours to believe and to confess: I am the Lord’s servant. May it happen to me as you have said. Amen.  


[1] https://www.britannica.com/topic/unicorn

[2] https://www.vatican.va/archive/ccc_css/archive/catechism/p122a3p2.htm

[3] https://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0015/_P2C.HTM#84

John 1:6-8, 19-29 - Where's the Joy in John? - December 13, 2020

On the third Sunday in Advent we light the third candle of our wreath, the pink one. Beside the center Christ candle, the pink one is the only one where there is general consensus over what it symbolizes. The three blue (or, in some cases, purple) candles represent repentance in general. But we get a bit of a reprieve on the 3rd Sunday in Advent, this Sunday has a theme of joy. This theme is a struggle for me. Do you know why? The 3rd Sunday of Advent also traditionally focuses on the words and work of John the Baptist. And if you know anything about John the Baptist, you know that joy is probably the last sentiment you would associate with him. Repentance, yes; forgiveness, yes; baptism, yes; calling people the offspring of vipers (Matthew 3;7), yes; but joy? Ever heard a Christmas carol on the radio about John? Ever seen a Christmas card with John on the cover? Where’s the joy in John?

 

Is it in his lifestyle? We read about it last Sunday in Mark 1. He wore a camel’s hair robe and a leather belt – which I don’t believe found its way into this winter’s edition of Vogue magazine. His diet didn’t consist of prime rib and lobster but grasshoppers and wild honey. He lived in the wilderness. His life was ascetic, Spartan, austere, harsh. John’s lifestyle couldn’t be more different from the kind of overeating, overdrinking, overspending, overindulgence that most Americans associate with Christmas.

 

Is there joy in the strict life of John? Many have thought so in the past. Luther and his fellow monks would dress themselves in rough woolen clothes just to make themselves uncomfortable; they would nearly starve themselves through fasting; others would live nearly their whole lives in self-imposed isolation as hermits. And while some Catholics may exchange their prime rib for a fish fry during Lent and groups like the Amish forgo many modern conveniences, in general, following a strict and disciplined lifestyle is pretty much unknown in American Christianity. But it is still a prominent part of other religions. Some Hindu priests starve themselves, sleep on the floor, and do nothing but pray for days at a time. Legend says that Buddha survived on nothing more than a single grain of wheat and one sesame seed a day. [1] Why? To get close to God, to find joy. Is that what John was trying to do by his austere lifestyle? Did he think that he could get closer to God by his meager diet and uncomfortable wardrobe? Did he think that would bring him joy? Clearly not, because he never once mentions it.

 

Joy is definitely found in God, but you don’t get to God by imitating the lifestyle of John. You don’t get to God by making yourself suffer. You cannot find joy by restricting your diet or by dressing in uncomfortable clothes or by isolating yourself from others (no matter what the CDC says). Those who do are in a terrible place, because the god who waits at the end of a self-imposed life of suffering is not the true God (1 Timothy 4:4), but a harsh, demanding demon who won’t be satisfied until he takes everything from you; up to and including your soul.

 

Well, if joy can’t be found in John’s lifestyle, then maybe we can find it in his faithfulness, right? John was sent from God to be an eyewitness and he was faithful in that vocation. The priests and Levites asked him five times who are you? and John witnessed faithfully each and every time. He refused to take any glory, repeatedly shifting the focus away from himself. He denied that he was the Christ, Elijah, or the Prophet. In fact, he apparently didn’t even consider himself a person, all he considered himself was a voice; a voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’ But as that voice, foreseen by Isaiah, he was faithful to his calling. He was a faithful witness to the Light, to Jesus Christ. And do you know what the single most important job of an eyewitness is? To not talk about yourself! To get out of the way and keep the focus on the Light, Jesus Christ. And John did that job well.

 

So, can faithfulness to one’s vocation lead to God, the source of all joy? Well, let’s just consider that for a moment. Are you as bold as John – fearlessly testifying to the truth in the face of intense questioning or criticism? When you’re gathered around the table (or, this year, the computer) with family will you boldly testify that the real reason for Christmas is not just so that we can exchange gifts or share a fine meal – but because 2000 years ago God’s Son was born in a manger in Bethlehem in order to save the world? Will you, as John did, steadfastly testify to your friends and family that the most important preparation we can make for Christmas doesn’t involve shopping or baking but repentance – including the commitment to leave our sinful lifestyles behind? Are you prepared to commit that at 9a on December 25 you won’t be sitting around a Christmas tree in your pajamas opening presents but here or in another church, sitting around our Lord’s altar, to really celebrate Christmas and to receive his true body and blood with your lips? Or, let’s just consider the everyday vocations God has called us to, just like the Catechism encourages us: “consider your place in life according to the Ten Commandments. Are you a father, mother, son, daughter, employer or employee? Have you been disobedient, unfaithful, or lazy? Have you hurt anyone by word or deed? Have you been dishonest, careless, wasteful, or done other wrong?” (SC, Confession, Part 3) No, you haven’t been directly called by God like John to be a voice in the wilderness. But you have been called by God to be a father or mother or son or daughter or husband or wife or employee or retiree – and above all: a Christian. How faithful have you been to your calling? Can you find joy in your faithfulness? Can you find God there?

 

We all know the truth: if God can only be reached, if true joy can only be found if I am always faithful to the vocation to which God has called me, then I’m always going to be miserable. While John never changed his message out of fear or a desire to be accepted, sometimes I do. While John was willing to lose his head for preaching the Word of God (Mark 6:14-29), I duck the moment I think I might be embarrassed. I’m a husband, father, pastor, son and friend – and I’m a failure in each of those roles. I can never get to God and I will never find joy in my faithfulness. The good news is that neither did John!

 

 

John (the author of the Gospel, not the Baptist) tells us why. He begins by literally writing: there came a man sent from the side of God. John didn’t have to strive to reach God…he started out there. Luke explains that John was filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother’s womb (Luke 1:15). John didn’t live where he did, the way he did, preaching what he did to find joy – to get closer to God. God was with him before he was even born.  

 

And that’s why we don’t find joy in John’s lifestyle or faithfulness but in his…finger. John’s finger is why Jesus said that among those born of women there has not appeared anyone greater than John the Baptist (Matthew 11:11). No one before John had a finger like his – not because they were sticky with honey and covered with locust guts – but because no one before John had ever pointed to that lowly carpenter, Jesus of Nazareth, as the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. No one before John had been able to personally point to Jesus as the source of forgiveness, life, and salvation. There is joy in John, not because of who he is but because of who he points to. If I had a Christmas card company, I would depict him with one of those big foam fingers pointing to Jesus in the manger.

 

Follow John’s finger, because with just one finger, John points us to the source of true joy. He doesn’t point you to the temporary and deceptive joy of parties and lights, eating and drinking, but to a far better kind of joy. The joy of knowing that the holy God didn’t send his angel armies to this earth to destroy you, but his only Son as a baby to save you. The joy of knowing that God credits Jesus’ perfect life to your account. The joy of knowing that your sins have been paid for once and for all. The joy of knowing that one day your grave will be just as empty as Jesus’. The joy of knowing that Jesus rules all things in this world for the good of the church. The joy of knowing that when he returns in glory he will make everything right, punishing his enemies and saving his people. And we desperately need to find our joy in the one John is pointing to; because while this is supposed to be a season of light and joy, I know that many of us are suffering under a shroud of pain and loss and darkness and grief. On those days, our only hope, our only source of joy will be to follow John’s finger to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

 

Now, admittedly, I am not John. I can’t point you to Jesus walking in flesh and blood by the Jordan River. But, like John, I must relentlessly point you outside of yourself. I cannot point you to the fuzzy feelings in your heart or the hope that things will get better to find joy and find God because things might not get any better. I must – and you must hold me to this – point you outside yourselves and your circumstances to Jesus. So that when you’re frustrated and angry and tired of all the evil and immorality you see in this fallen world I don’t point to you or to me but to this font, where God himself gave you citizenship in his glorious and never-ending kingdom. When you’re suffering with a guilty conscience over all the ways you’ve failed in your callings, I don’t point you to yourself, to tomorrow, to opportunities to do better – but rather to the Absolution, where Christ himself declares you forgiven. And, when you eventually confront death itself, I don’t point you to yourself or to your doctor or your diet – but to this altar where you receive the true body and blood of Jesus, which is the only divinely authorized and approved vaccine for death. The source of joy is not going to be found in your lifestyle or your faithfulness but only and always in Jesus.

 

And here’s the funny thing, when you find your joy in Jesus, then you start to look and behave more and more like John. When you follow John’s finger and receive Jesus through Baptism, Absolution and the Lord’s Supper, it will produce the same fruits of this joy in your life as it did in John’s. You deprive yourself of money, money you could use to renovate the house or buy a newer car or take a vacation, and you instead give it away to support the preaching of the Gospel and to those less fortunate. You deprive yourself of time and energy and sleep to carry out your vocation in God’s name whether at home, at the office, or here at church. Your lifestyle is odd to the world around you (getting up on a cold morning to drive treacherous roads to church – when the devil and the government have given you countless reasons not to – it’s still stunning to me every Sunday) – and you don’t do it because it is the source of your joy but because you have found your joy in Jesus. And, while you may never be called to the carpet to explain yourself like John was, you are faithful witnesses like he was. You confess your sins in public. You confess out loud your faith in Jesus as the only Savior every Sunday. When you step forward for communion you proclaim both Jesus’ death for sinners and that he will come again (1 Corinthians 11:26). And you live in this strange way, like John, not in order to find God or find joy, but because you know and believe that in Jesus you have God and the joy of his salvation.

 

“But I don’t do any of these things perfectly.” Of course not; neither did John. That’s why John point to Jesus and not to himself. Your joy is not found in how much you sacrifice for Jesus or how faithful you are to Jesus. Your joy is found in how much Jesus sacrificed and how faithful he is to you. See, there is joy to be found in John; not in his person but in the person he pointed to: Jesus. Amen.

 

 


[1] http://www.buddhanet.net/e-learning/buddhism/pbs2_unit03.htm

Mark 1:1-8 - Do You Have the Christmas Spirit? - December 6, 2020

It never fails. Every single year, no matter how determined we are to be ready for Christmas, it always seems to sneak up on us. Christmas is only 19 days away. Are you ready? Are you in the mood? Do you have the Christmas spirit? That’s one of the annual seasonal requirements, isn’t it: that you have the Christmas spirit? This allusive Christmas spirit was the inspiration for three of the most famous Christmas movies: the Grinch doesn’t have it and he tries to steal it from others; Charlie Brown searches high and low for it, but he can’t find it in the midst of Christmas’ commercialization; Ebenezer Scrooge thinks he doesn’t want it, but three ghosts show him how much he’s missing out on without it. The world has an infinite number of ways to tell us that we need to have the Christmas spirit. Fine. But what is it and how do you get it?

 

Well, although this is a fairly complicated recipe, most would agree that the main ingredient is family, right? “I’ll be home for Christmas,” Bing Crosby croons. Being home for the holidays creates the Christmas Spirit. It’s immortalized in Norman Rockwell paintings. It’s reliving and renewing and creating family traditions. And no matter how many experts tell us that you can be just as close with your family by computer as you can in person – we all know that it’s not the same thing. Once you’ve gotten the family gatherings scheduled, then you need to add a dash of a Christmas cheer. You need to be humming “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” until your throat hurts. The spirit of Christmas is kind thoughts toward others and a warm, cozy feeling inside.

 

Of course, even if you have family and Christmas cheer, you’re still lacking something, something big; something important. What is it? Charity! Giving gifts to others in order to help them to find the Christmas spirit is widely considered to be the most important ingredient in achieving the Christmas spirit for yourself. Why would that be? Well, because it’s not only advertisers and celebrities and food pantries that urge and encourage charity – even the church does. Saint Nicholas, the inspiration for that fat guy in the red suit, was a real bishop in the church in the 4th century, and he’s famous because he gave money to poor people. The Salvation Army – a so-called church – reminds you (or maybe, guilts you) to be charitable every time you go grocery shopping. Heck, even Risen Savior is encouraging you to give Christmas gift to those in need. Although, if I may be cynical, I’m not sure that giving to others in order to make yourself feel good is exactly a pure motive.

 

How dare I mock charitable giving at Christmas time! What kind of a Grinch am I? Well, I could have said bah-humbug to the other two ingredients as well. I could have pointed out that there are many people who don’t have any family to gather with or will have an empty spot at the table or that there are many who can’t stand the family they have to get together with at Christmas. To those who believe that the Christmas spirit = Christmas cheer, I could have pointed out that suicides and depression go up this time of year.

 

Nonetheless, family, cheerfulness and charity are all but universally viewed as essential ingredients to summoning the Christmas spirit. Anything else? Ah, yes, Christmas music. How can you have the Christmas spirit without Christmas music? Songs that have been sung for decades and hymns that have been around for centuries are played all day in the mall, 24/7 on the radio, and every year some pop-star comes out with their own Christmas album. Even if family, cheer, and charity are out of reach – at least you know that Christmas music will always be there to summon the Christmas spirit.

 

Hmm, we’re still missing something. Oh yeah: shopping. What would Christmas be without shopping – with spiced latte in hand? But it’s also intrinsically linked with family and happiness, too. How can you show up at a family gathering empty handed? What could possibly illustrate the Christmas spirit more than watching a child’s eyes light up at opening the gift – the perfect gift – that you bought them? Whether you do it on Amazon or Farm and Fleet (or, let’s be honest, Walgreen’s at 8p on Christmas Eve), no shopping = no Christmas spirit. Just consider how many people put themselves in debt just for the sake of being able to give the perfect gift.

 

And last but not least (especially because they are forbidden this year): Christmas parties. It’s sinning against the spirits of Christmas to not go to Christmas parties. You’ll be called a Grinch or a Scrooge if you don’t. The spirits of Christmas are to be found in food, drink and friends. You’ll be guaranteed to catch the Christmas spirit (among other things) if you can mix up this Christmas cocktail in the proper proportions.

 

What a killjoy! So, now I’m not only against family, cheerfulness and charity – but now music, shopping and parties, too?!? Not at all. I’m just pointing out that the seasonal spirits of Christmas we’ve been indoctrinated to believe in all have to be pursued, paid for, or drummed up. It’s hard work to obtain these spirits – especially during a pandemic – and it’s all but impossible when tragedy strikes your family during the Christmas season; when your Christmas cheer is dampened by chronic pain or disease; when you don’t have much to spend on shopping and giving because you’ve been furloughed. That’s because the spirits of Christmas we’ve been led to regard as holy and necessary are all products of our own doing; that is, they are based on works. You get these spirits of Christmas by doing or not doing certain things. Woe to you if you fail to dot every I and cross every t of the sacred Christmas laws – because then the Christmas spirit won’t come. Life under the Law, even the holly, jolly laws of Christmas, is heavy, depressing and burdensome.

 

But I have good news; that is, I have the Gospel. There is a Spirit of Christmas – and, imagine this: he actually has something to do with the true Christmas story. In fact, his role is so essential that without this Spirit there would be no Christmas. The angel Gabriel told Zechariah that John the Baptist will be filled with the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:15). Six months later Gabriel told Mary that the Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God (Luke 1:35). When Mary travels to see Elizabeth, John leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:41). Later, when John was born, we’re told that Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:67) and sang a song of joyful praise. The true Spirit of Christmas is none other than the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit.

Ok, so how do you get the Holy Spirit? Not through giving, shopping or partying, but…through Baptism. On Pentecost Peter promised: repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38). Paul calls Baptism a washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:5). Jesus himself says that rebirth comes by water and the Spirit (John 3:1-18). Getting this Christmas Spirit, the real Christmas Spirit, couldn’t be easier: you receive it when you are baptized.

 

Preparing people to receive Jesus, by giving, not demanding, was really the point of John’s ministry, but that fact often gets lost in the details. Mark writes that John appeared, baptizing in the wilderness and preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. That’s precisely what is received today when people are baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:20; Acts 2:38). Some get confused – or even try to deny that John’s Baptism had this power – by pointing to the last verse of the text where John says I baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. Some argue that John is saying that his baptism is just plain water and that only Jesus can baptize with the Holy Spirit. Well, if that were true, then, one, John’s baptism could not give the forgiveness of sins – as the text clearly says. Second, as the context makes clear, John is not contrasting his baptism and Jesus’ baptism, but rather his identity and his work versus Jesus’ identity and work, just look at the previous verse: one more powerful than I is coming after me. I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of his sandals!

 

In other words, John is using the word baptize (which simply means to apply something) in two different ways: one literal, one metaphorical. John applies with water for forgiveness – as he was commissioned to do by God. Jesus, however, has both the authority and the commission to apply the Holy Spirit to people – which he did in dramatic fashion on Pentecost (Acts 2:1-41). John was sent to apply water for the forgiveness of sins to prepare the way for Jesus’ first coming; Jesus was sent to apply the Holy Spirit through the means of grace to prepare the way for his second coming.

 

This is made clear in the very next verses of Mark’s Gospel where John baptizes Jesus. Then and there the Spirit descended on Jesus like a dove and God identified Jesus as his beloved Son (Mark 1:9-11). Endowed with the Spirit, Jesus immediately went to work, going to war with the devil in the wilderness (Mark 1:12-13), battling disease and death by healing and resurrecting (Mark 1:21-45), calling disciples to follow him and calling out his opponents for their hypocrisy and unbelief (Mark 2:13-17; 2:18-28), preaching the good news of free salvation throughout Israel until the time came for him to earn that salvation by suffering and dying, by rising and ascending. The results of Jesus’ work are the priceless gifts the Christmas Spirit gives during Advent: because Jesus cried out it is finished (John 19:30) on the cross, your sins have already paid for in full – you are debt free, you owe God nothing; because Jesus drained the cup of God’s wrath if there is anything that dampens your Christmas joy this year it cannot be because God is angry with you; because Jesus fulfilled the law by keeping it perfectly, no law, not even the sacred seasonal laws of Christmas, can accuse you or demand that you obey them in order to have a conscience free from guilt.

 

Because Jesus won the right to send the Holy Spirit through the means of grace, and because you have been baptized, you have the Holy Spirit; the true Christmas Spirit. And the true Christmas Spirit doesn’t point you to Christmas lights and gifts and parties, that is yourself and your own efforts, for hope and joy – he points you to Jesus, to his completed work on the cross; to his crushing of sin, death and the devil; to the assurance that because he lives you also will live (John 14:19) – which gives you a joy that can’t be taken away by sickness, sadness, death – or even a blue Christmas.

 

So go on and celebrate with your family (whether you want to or not); give, give, and give some more; turn the Christmas music all the way up; shop till you drop; party like it’s 1999 (just don’t get caught). But as you do, don’t forget this: the Spirit of Christmas is not something you need to buy up, drum up or gin up. The Christmas Spirit was given to you in your baptism. He is there to assure you of your forgiveness even when you face conflict in your family; to give you fellowship with the Triune God even when you’re isolated and alone (1 John 1:3); to provide joy even when you’re feeling blue; to give you the gifts of forgiveness, freedom from death and the devil, and eternal salvation even if there aren’t any other gifts under the tree this year.

 

The seasonal spirits of Christmas that this world cherishes come and go with your emotions, your health, your wealth, with governmental mandates – and by and large are gone by December 26 – because they’re not gifts. The true Christmas Spirit, the only thing that can really prepare you to receive Jesus both on Christmas and on the Last Day, is a gift. It’s a gift no one can take from you; a gift that will never break or go out of style; a gift that is yours whether this Christmas is holly and jolly or sad and lonely. Whether you feel the Christmas spirit this year is irrelevant; you have it, just as surely as water was splashed on your head in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, as Jesus’ gift to you. Amen.

Matthew 25:31-46 - Judgment Day Surprises - November 22, 2020

For two weeks we’ve been focusing on the end times, especially on the fact that because we do not know when Jesus will return that we need to be prepared for his return at any moment. Today, the last Sunday of the church year, our attention shifts to what will happen when he returns; when all the nations will be gathered in his presence. And today, Jesus reveals that Judgment Day will bring some surprises.

 

The first surprise – which may come as a shock to us as confessional Lutherans – is the important role that works will play on that Day. “What? No, no, no. We are saved by grace alone, Pastor.” Well, the evidence regarding works is kind of overwhelming. In the Athanasian Creed we confess “at his coming all people will rise with their own bodies to answer for their personal deeds. Those who have done good will enter eternal life, but those who have done evil will go into eternal fire.” Then we have 2 Corinthians 5:10 which tells us that we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he did while in the body, whether good or bad. And right here, doesn’t Jesus say that the sheep will enter eternal life because they did good things and the goats will go away to eternal punishment because they didn’t?  

 

So…surprise! It really does matter how you live and what you do or don’t do. Specifically it really matters if you fail to do good. That’s kind of surprising, isn’t it? The goats were convicted and condemned, not because they were Muslims or Mormons; not because they were pedophiles or rapists or murderers or thieves or that they dared to celebrate Thanksgiving. No, the evidence that they belonged in hell was what they didn’t do; that they didn’t feed the hungry, clothe the naked, or visit the sick.

 

If that’s the criteria for judgment, where does that leave us? When you look at your life, which side of Jesus do you belong on? How many hungry people have you fed lately? When’s the last time you gave a cup of cold water to anyone? What about the beggar on the on-ramp to the beltline – did you give him anything the last time you went shopping? Have you ever visited anybody in prison? “But pastor, I picked up a gift tag for the needy in McFarland, I give blood to the Red Cross, I toss a few coins in those red Salvation Army cans, I might even throw a few dollars in the ammo can in the back for the LMSG.”

 

Be very careful in asserting those sorts of justifications. Why? Well, who tries to justify themselves by what they’ve done on Judgment Day? Not the sheep but the goats. It’s not the sheep but the goats who think that their works can justify them in Christ’s courtroom. Jesus exposes everything they have failed to do for all the world to see and what do they say? “When did we see you and not help you? (We helped all sorts of people, we did all kinds of good deeds.)” That’s the tell-tale sign of someone who’s getting ready to spend eternity in a furnace. The person who claims that they have done their best, tried to be nice, and helped anyone they saw in need. The people who point to their charity, to their selfless acts, to the fact that they have loved their neighbor as themselves – those will be the goats bleating in dismay as they are dismissed from Jesus’ presence.

 

The sheep on the other hand…what do they say? “When did we ever do any of those things?” Why would they say that? How could they not? They have examined their hearts and their lives under the brilliant light of God’s Law, just like we did in our first hymn and the confession of sins, and – no surprise here – they don’t find anything good; nothing but sins of doing things they shouldn’t have, sins of not doing the things they should have, and a sinful nature that wants to keep right on that same path of sin. They confess that they don’t deserve to enter eternal life according to the demands of the law. So the real question is not “why will so many be damned?” but rather “how can anyone be saved?”

 

You know what the problem is, don’t you? It’s our innate tendency to read these words as Law. Perhaps no text has been more twisted and abused than this one in support of the social gospel, that is, that Christianity’s greatest goal is community service. In other words, if you want to find yourself on the right side on Judgment Day, then you had better go volunteer in a homeless shelter, you better visit the sick, you better invite perfect strangers into your home – here and now. The underlying assumption that these words are primarily Law couldn’t be more wrong. Let’s correct that assumption by getting these words back in their proper context. These are some of Jesus’ last words to his disciples before his suffering and death. Over the course of the next three days the disciples are going to be exposed as horrible sinners. They will fail Jesus in every way possible. They will fail to volunteer to wash his feet (John 13:1-17), they will abandon him (Matthew 26:56), betray him (Matthew 26:49) and deny him (Matthew 26:69-75), they will watch him die without even offering him a cup of water (John 19:28-29), and when he had given up his spirit they were too cowardly to take his body down from the cross to give it a proper burial (Matthew 27:57-60). Jesus knows all this. Do you think that he’s going to take some of his last moments on earth to institute a community service program? Do you think his greatest concern is that they would set up a food pantry or homeless shelter after he’s gone? More importantly, do you think Jesus wants to leave them with the Law ringing in their ears? Imagine you have just a few minutes to speak to a relative who is dying in an ICU somewhere where you can’t go, are you going to give them a dose of law or gospel?

 

And that’s the next Judgment Day surprise. This text is really good news, genuine Gospel, not the social gospel. It starts with the identity of the Judge. Who is it? The Son of Man. The same Son of Man who did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28). And that’s why he doesn’t need a shred of evidence to separate the nations, because it’s on the basis of his sacrifice for sinners. He does it as easily as a shepherd separates sheep from goats. Now, I’m no shepherd, but even I know that if you’re separating sheep from goats you don’t do it based on what they do; you do it based on who they are!

 

 

In fact, those are the very first words out of the Judge’s mouth, aren’t they? He identifies his sheep: come, you who are blessed by my Father – those blessed to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God (Matthew 16:16)inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world – again, more good news, more gospel – not only is an inheritance a free gift but it was prepared long before the sheep had done anything, either good or bad, in their lives. And only then, only after the separation has taken place does Jesus present the evidence that the sheep are indeed the righteous: you fed me, gave me something to drink, welcomed me into your home, clothed me, took care of me, and visited me – when you did these things for other believers. This is where so many get this backwards: they define the righteous as those who never fail to feed the hungry, water the thirsty, take in strangers, clothe the naked, look after the sick, and visit the imprisoned. They make works the source rather than the product of saving faith. Show me where the Bible teaches that we become righteous by what we do, and I’ll be the one who’s surprised! I’m only aware of passages like Isaiah 64 and Romans 3 which say that all our righteous acts are like a filthy cloth (Isaiah 64:6) and there is no one who is righteous, not even one (Romans 3:10).

 

Well, if we can’t become righteous by what we do, then how do we get it? I quoted 2 Corinthians 5 before. If you keep reading in that chapter you come to verse 21, where Paul writes 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). Here’s the key: the righteousness the judge credited to the sheep – the righteousness you can claim for yourself right now – is not really theirs or yours. It’s Jesus’ righteousness, freely credited to you by God’s grace, received by you through faith. In other words, if you wonder where you will stand on Judgment Day, don’t think of your life, but Jesus’. Don’t point to your paltry good works but Jesus’ perfect life, death and resurrection. If you ever wonder where your righteousness comes from, don’t look in the mirror, look to the cross!

 

“Then why does he go into such detail about works if he isn’t trying to motivate us to do more good works here and now?” Courtrooms need evidence. However, in this courtroom, the evidence isn’t for the benefit of the Judge but for ours. Remember that Jesus is trying to assure his disciples – who will fail to do anything good for him as he dies for them – that their salvation is sure. And, he’s also assuring us, people who live in a world filled with shades of gray – where you usually can’t see the difference between the sheep and the goats. Right now, the righteous don’t look any different than the unrighteous. In fact, the unrighteous sometimes even look a whole lot better than the righteous. There are billions of people who couldn’t care less about God’s Word, the Absolution, Baptism, or Holy Communion – but they put us to shame with their good works. And it could make us wonder: do we really have this right? Can we really be sure that we will end up on the right side on Judgment Day if we make our highest priority simply receiving Christ’s gifts here instead of doing good for others out there? And so Jesus is comforting us: “Don’t worry about what you see right now; everything will be properly sorted out on Judgment Day.”

 

Remember, this is a courtroom. The evidence is what matters. And what is the evidence that the goats are in fact, goats, deserving of hell? The evidence proves that they didn’t do a single good thing in this life because they didn’t do a single thing out of faith in Christ. As Paul says, everything that does not proceed from faith is sin (Romans 14:23). A life lived in unbelief, no matter how good outwardly, is a life worthy of hell.

 

Ah, but now it’s your turn. Think of the evidence as a video of your life. Everything you’ve ever thought, said or done is on there for all to see. Jesus calls your name and orders that your video be played on the biggest screen you’ve ever seen. You hide your face; you try to shrink into the ground. Before God and all creation your entire life is about to be exposed and you know exactly what it will show. Surprise! None of the filthy thoughts, loveless words or selfish actions that you know you’ve done are there. Why not? Because your life has passed through the filter of Christ’s blood in baptism; been wiped clean by Absolution; and been rerecorded with the perfect life of Christ in Holy Communion. As you dare to peek between your fingers to see what everyone else is seeing in your life, you nearly faint in shock. None of the disrespect you showed as a child, none of the wild and reckless behavior you showed as a teenager, none of your lustfulness or covetousness or hatefulness is showing up. Instead, all the video shows are the good things you did – including all of the good things you did that you don’t even remember doing. The video ends and Jesus slams down his gavel. “See, world, here’s the evidence that this is my sheep who will spend eternity with me in glory.” So surprise! Judgment Day is about works, only not yours, but Jesus’ for you.

 

No more surprises. Jesus is fair and impartial (Romans 2:11). He judges all by the same standard. He exposes the faithless goats by their failure to do anything through faith in Jesus. He reveals the sheep by failing to find any sin and revealing the evidence of faith in their lives. this is Gospel! This is what the disciples needed to hear just before they failed to feed, water, clothe, deny, betray and abandon the One who came to die for them. This is what we, who know exactly how badly we have failed to serve and love our Savior for yet another church year, need to hear today. Because while this text is about works and you don’t have any, this is good news, because you won’t be judged on your works but on Jesus’ perfect life, death and resurrection. Therefore, all you really have to know about Judgment Day is that the sheep who listen to his voice today (John 10:27) will hear his gracious invitation to glory on the Last Day. Amen.

Matthew 24:15-28 - When You See It, Don't Believe It - November 15, 2020

The saying always used to be “I’ll believe it when I see it” – so that when you see something then you can believe it. I’m not sure that saying holds true anymore today. Sadly, between the recent election and the ongoing pandemic, you see and hear an awful lot of things that you shouldn’t believe. But as Christians, this shouldn’t surprise us. In fact, Jesus tells us today that as the end draws ever nearer, there are some things you will see that you must not believe.

 

Jesus spoke these words on Tuesday of Holy Week. As they walked past the temple, his disciples were oohing and aahing at its size and magnificence. Jesus burst their bubble by telling them that soon every one of the temple’s magnificent stones will be thrown down (Matthew 24:2). Understandably, the disciples were curious. And they ask Jesus two questions: when will these things happen? And what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the world? (Matthew 24:3) It’s important to understand that Jesus is answering both of these questions simultaneously. And the first thing we conclude from Jesus’ answer is that he is not, in verses 15 through 22, describing the end of the world.  

 

Perhaps you’ve heard or thought otherwise. Perhaps you need proof for this assertion. Ok. Jesus tells his disciples that they will see the abomination that causes desolation, that was spoken of through the prophet Daniel, standing in the holy place. Luke adds context to this cryptic phrase, saying when you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, then know that its desolation is near (Luke 21:20). This literally happened in 70 AD when the Roman army led by Titus surrounded and proceeded to raze Jerusalem to the ground. That’s the positive proof. There’s also negative proof. If Jesus were referring to Judgment Day, what good would it do to flee to the mountains? What difference would it make if you ran back into your house to get your valuables or come from the field to grab some extra clothes? How could Judgment Day be harder on pregnant and nursing women than anyone else? What difference will it make if Jesus returns to judge in winter or on a Sabbath Day? At that point, none of those things will matter because no one will be able to escape Judgment Day (2 Corinthians 5:10).

 

Don’t believe that these words are a literal description of the end of the world. They’re not. They’re about the fall of Jerusalem – and that certainly was a great distress, unlike any that has happened since the beginning of the world until now, and unlike any that will happen again. Jerusalem was under siege for roughly five months. Soldiers scraped the leather off their shields for food. Women were driven to cannibalizing their own children. When the Romans finally did breach the city, the bloodshed was unimaginable. The first century Jewish historian Josephus estimated that over 1 million Jews were killed (Josephus is well-known for his exaggerations. But even half of that is still shocking.) [1]

 

And yet, while Jesus here is describing the literal fall of Jerusalem, it is also a type, a shadow of the world’s end. Just as the fall of Jerusalem brought suffering for Christians, so will the end of time. However, Scripture makes it clear that the sign that the End is near is not primarily physical but moral and spiritual. Again, we turn to other Scripture to help us interpret Jesus’ words here. In Luke 17, Jesus describes what the days before his return will be like. He says just as it was in the days of Noah, so will it also be in the days of the Son of Man. In what way? They were eating and drinking, marrying and being given in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark…likewise, just as it was in the days of Lot: they were eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building (Luke 17:26-27). Yes, the flood which drowned the earth (Genesis 7-8) and the fire and brimstone that fell on Sodom and Gomorrah were terrible (Genesis 19). But the days leading up to them were, apparently, great! People married, partied, ate and drank, bought and sold without a care in the world while the whole time false doctrine was spreading like a virus. Spiritual apathy, widespread immorality and false doctrine, not physical suffering will mark end of the world. So don’t believe it when someone tells you otherwise. Don’t become complacent or lazy just because you don’t see severe physical persecution today in our land.

 

Second, when you see Jesus anywhere but where he promised to be, don’t believe it. At that time if anyone tells you, ‘Look, here is the Christ,’ or ‘There he is,’ do not believe it…So if they tell you, ‘Look! There he is in the wilderness,’ do not go out there, or ‘Look! Here he is in the inner rooms,’ do not believe it. Don’t believe that Jesus will return in secret – or that only a select few will know when and where to find him. Why not? Because just as the lightning flashes from the east and shines as far as the west, so it will be when the Son of Man comes. Wherever the carcass may be, there the vultures will gather. Jesus’ return will be as clear and obvious to everyone as a bolt of lightning or as a dead animal is to a vulture.

 

But hasn’t Jesus promised to be with us right now and until the very end of the age (Matthew 18:20; 28:20)? Yes. That’s not the question. The question is: where can we find him? Jesus says that false Christs and false prophets will arise and will perform great signs and wonders. Don’t believe them! Why not? The coming of the lawless one will be in accordance with the work of Satan, with every kind of miracle, that is, with false signs and wonders, and with every kind of unrighteousness that deceives those who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved (2 Thessalonians 2:9-10). Don’t believe that every miracle, sign or wonder is from Jesus. Don’t believe that just because a person can apparently heal the sick, speak in tongues, or gather a following that he or she is from Jesus. You will see false Christs and false prophets – and you will be tempted to follow them. Their enthusiasm, their charisma, their popularity will be magnetic. They will claim that they and they alone have a direct line to Jesus. They will boast of their joy, their peace, their love, their confidence – and their outward success and popularity will seem to verify their claims. Don’t believe them.

 

Well, if we know that there are imposters and imitators, how can you be sure where the genuine Jesus is? What is the proof of Jesus’ presence? You look for him where he’s promised to be. He promised to be where sins are being forgiven in his name (Matthew 18:18-20) – Jesus is present wherever Absolution is announced publicly or privately. He promised to be present in Baptism (Matthew 28:20) – he said, through Paul, that as many of you as were baptized into Christ have been clothed with Christ (Galatians 3:27). And does it get any plainer than Holy Communion? This is my body…this is my blood (Matthew 26:26-27)? If you want to find Jesus today, look to where he has promised to be: Baptism, Absolution, Communion. You have his own word that where these things are he will be. How could anyone miss this?

 

Well, billions do. They do because from his ascension until his return Jesus has chosen to clothe himself in weak, ordinary things. The absolution is weak and ordinary compared to someone who claims that his babbling is a secret revelation from God. Baptism looks like nothing but plain water – but exorcisms, where priests splash holy water and speak in Latin to drive out demons, that’s pretty impressive! The Lord’s Supper looks like nothing but plain bread and Mogen David wine – how can that compete with healings, miracles and visions? In the end, our only hope is to become unbelievers – to not believe that Jesus is anywhere but where he has promised to be; and, finally, to not believe that our faith will preserve us in the end.

 

What? I’m not supposed to place any trust in my faith? Nope. As we get closer to the end, things will grow worse and worse morally and spiritually. In 1 Timothy Paul said: the Spirit clearly says that, in later times, some will fall away from the faith, because they devote themselves to deceitful spirits and the doctrines of demons (1 Timothy 4:1). I can say that I don’t want to or intend to fall from the faith, but I can’t comfort myself by saying: my faith will never fail. If you doubt that about yourself, just remember that the apostle Peter said even if all fall away because of you, I will never fall away (Matthew 26:33), and we all know how that ended up.

 

So if we can’t trust our own faith, then what can we trust? Well, how did Jesus comfort the Christians who were facing horrifying days leading up to the fall of Jerusalem? Did he point them to their faith, saying, “Don’t worry, you believe, so you will be spared and saved?” Did he point them to their understanding of Scripture or their good works? No, the comfort Jesus offered them was something that happened long before they were born, something clearly outside of themselves: their election. He said if those days were not shortened, nobody would be saved. But for the sake of the elect, those days will be shortened. And one verse later he says that it is impossible for the elect to be deceived (Matthew 24:24).

 

As the end nears, I can’t comfort you with your faith because your faith, like mine, is weak. I can’t comfort you with your understanding of Christian doctrine because your understanding, like mine, is lacking. I can’t comfort you with your life of love toward God and others because your life, like mine, is more often than not lacking in love for anyone but myself.

 

But, as the end draws ever closer, I can comfort you with your election. I can comfort you with the fact that God chose you in Christ before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1:4). I can comfort you with the fact that the reason you have been baptized and are hearing the Gospel right now is because of God’s election; as Paul says that those he predestined, he also called. Those he called, he also justified. And those he justified, he also glorified (Romans 8:30). I can comfort you with the fact that even though you haven’t kept God’s law perfectly, Jesus has in your place (Matthew 5:17-20). I can comfort you with the fact that even though your sins separated you from God (Isaiah 59:2), Christ has reconciled you to God by his death and resurrection (2 Corinthians 5:19). I can comfort you with the fact that by means of Baptism and Holy Communion God has placed his seal on you, marked you as one who will be spared and saved no matter how evil and immoral this world becomes (Revelation 7:1-8).

 

For the sake of the elect God shortened the horrifying days of Jerusalem’s destruction. For your sake God has shaped and continues to shape all of history leading up to the end. Everything in this world, everything in your life – the good, the bad, and the ugly – work together for your eternal good (Romans 8:28). As the terrible signs of the End reach a climax in this world, I can’t promise you that your faith won’t be shaken. But I can repeat Jesus’ promise: I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand (John 10:28).

 

So when you see these things happening – as they are even now all around us – don’t believe them. Don’t believe that this description of the fall of Jerusalem is how this world will literally end – that will only lead to complacency and false confidence; don’t believe that Jesus is present anywhere but where he promised; and don’t believe that your faith will preserve you in the end. Instead, believe that God will preserve his elect to and through the end to eternal life in heaven. Amen.


[1] https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2850/2850-h/2850-h.htm#link2HCH0006

Matthew 25:1-13 - Keeping Watch - November 8, 2020

The gist of this parable is pretty simple, isn’t it? Keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour. It’s not exactly a novel concept. Keeping watch is a routine part of life. We watch our porches for packages to be delivered from Amazon. Parents watch to make sure their kids stay out of the street and are home before curfew. Investors watch the stock market; politicians watch the polls; doctors watch for test results; farmers watch the weather. Everyone keeps watch for something. In a world full of people keeping watch, however, Christians are unique; for only we are keeping watch for the Lord’s return.

 

What does that mean? What does it mean to keep watch for our Lord’s return? Does it mean always staying awake? Being constantly vigilant every moment of every day? If it were, what grade would you get? We’ve all had times when we’ve had to force ourselves to stay awake. You try to force your eyelids open, you may slap yourself. And yet, what ends up happening? The more you try to make yourself stay awake the sleepier you become. Forcing yourself to stay awake usually has the opposite effect. It’s nearly impossible to make yourself stay awake for extended periods of time. That’s why, even in Biblical times, militaries rarely assigned overnight guard duties for periods of longer than a few hours (Matthew 14:25). Commanding someone to stay awake for an entire night is to command failure. But whether staying awake is possible or not is not the question. The question is: is that what the Lord is suggesting here? Does he want us to be constantly awake, constantly looking to the sky waiting for his return?

 

What would that look like? Every time you see a flash of lightning you’d have to jump up because it could be the first sign of the Lord’s return (Matthew 24:27). Every time you hear the tornado sirens tested you’d have to react like it’s the sound of the last trumpet (1 Corinthians 15:52). Every time you see the news of wars, earthquakes, disease and false doctrine you’d have to behave like Jesus is only minutes away from his arrival (Matthew 24). You’d also have to reject every occupation, recreation and relationship which would threaten to distract you from keeping watch. Try to force yourself to do these things and one of two things will happen: either you’ll find yourself on State St. marching around like a madman with a sign that says “The End Is Near!” – or you will be overcome with guilt because you can’t be that watchful. It’s simply impossible to spend every waking moment in constant vigilance for the Lord’s return.

 

Thankfully this parable makes it clear that keeping watch doesn’t mean staying awake. There are two pieces of evidence for this. First, in the parable Jesus says that they all [all ten virgins] became drowsy and fell asleep. You know how that goes. You’re committed to staying awake for something: a movie, the announcement of election results, a sermon – but no matter how hard you try, you slowly nod off. And the virgins had a significant advantage: while they maybe didn’t know the exact hour the groom would come, they at least had a rough idea and they knew the day – because they knew that the bridegroom was delayed. They could only know that the groom was delayed if they had some idea of when he was originally supposed to be there. But we have no idea of when the Lord is going to come – either for us personally or for this world in general (Matthew 24:36; 44). We not only don’t know the day or the hour, we don’t know the year or the decade. So how could we possibly stay awake?

 

Second, if Jesus is commanding us to stay awake here, it would contradict his teachings about his return. The Bible says repeatedly that he will come like a thief in the night, when we don’t expect him (Matthew 24:43-44; 1 Thessalonians 5:2; 2 Peter 3:10). Jesus says that if a homeowner did know when the thief was coming, he would be on the alert and not let the thief break in. Since we do not know when the “thief” – Jesus – will arrive, it’s impossible to be on constant alert. Keeping watch isn’t about staying awake.

 

If this parable isn’t telling us to stay awake, then what is it about? It’s about being prepared. Jesus tells us right away that of the ten virgins – which represent all who are, outwardly, members of the Christian church – thought they were prepared; they all took their lamps and they all allowed themselves to nod off to sleep because they were confident they were ready to meet the groom whenever he arrived. The question this parable urges us to ask, then, is not “are you awake” but “are you wise or foolish?” This is the self-examination question we need to ask today precisely because we don’t know when Jesus will return. The one thing that is very clear from this parable is that it is foolish to try to get prepared once he’s already arrived – as the five foolish virgins discovered.

 

So how can one be prepared to meet Jesus? Are you prepared? Our natural tendency is to look inside ourselves to check for preparedness. To ask “if faith is what it takes to be saved (Mark 16:16), then do I have enough of it to last until Jesus arrives?” Those sorts of questions only lead to paranoia and doubt, don’t they? You would constantly be checking, constantly trying to measure your faith. How would you even do that? How do you know if you have enough faith to last until Jesus returns? Where’s the measuring stick for that? Being told to look inside yourself and measure your faith could only lead to one of two outcomes: either self-righteousness or despair.

 

The amazing truth that this parable teaches is that being prepared is actually pretty easy. How? With oil (in all probability, olive oil). Olive oil was not an especially rare or precious resource in ancient Israel. Olive trees were plentiful. If you cooked or had a lamp, you had olive oil. Thus, in the context of the parable, it was not an especially difficult task assigned to these virgins – all they had to do was bring a lamp and oil – which they, in all likelihood, already possessed. And that’s what makes the foolish virgins so extraordinarily foolish. It wasn’t just that they didn’t take enough extra oil – they didn’t take any at all (Matthew 25:3)! What could be more foolish than to pick up a lamp and not notice that it’s empty; to not fill it with oil; to see five other virgins carrying lamps full of oil and not think, “Hmm, maybe I’ll need some of that too!” The real sin, the real failure in this parable then is thinking you’re prepared to meet Jesus when you’re not.

 

It’s not about staying awake but about being prepared. How can we be prepared to meet the Lord? What qualifies sinners to get into the wedding reception of the Lord? It can’t be remaining constantly awake, ignoring the day-to-day occupations of life to watch for his return, because in the parable none of the ten did that. It cannot be a matter of having enough faith because each of us are plagued with doubts, fears and worries; every one of us must confess with the father of the demon-possessed boy: I do believe. Help me with my unbelief! (Mark 9:24) Nor can being prepared consist of never sinning. There will never be a day that we don’t have to cry out God, be merciful to me, a sinner (Luke 18:13). So what can prepare us for something that we cannot prepare ourselves for? Only God!

 

God alone has the means of preparing sinners to meet his Son. And what are these means through which God prepares sinners to meet him? We call them the means of grace. By means of Baptism he fills us with the Holy Spirit and ignites the flame of faith in our hearts (Ephesians 5:25-27). By means of the Absolution, God sends our sins as far away from us as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). By means of Holy Communion, God guarantees that we are his heirs who have the same claim on heaven’s inheritance that Jesus himself does (Matthew 26:28). See? Being prepared is easy! Water is more plentiful than olive oil – and wherever you have water and the Word, you have the tools to prepare disciples from every nation on earth (Matthew 28:19-20). Absolution is so powerful that it can declare even the worst sinner “not-guilty” in God’s eyes (1 Timothy 1:15) Communion is so potent and powerful that when you receive the true body and blood in faith, God looks at you and sees Jesus.  

 

Now you might be thinking: “That’s too easy. That can’t possibly be enough! After all, we’re Lutherans who confess sola fidei – that we are saved by faith alone (Mark 16:16; Galatians 2:16). Where does faith fit into this equation?” Good question. Where do we see faith in this parable? The foolish virgins believed they were ready to meet the bridegroom; they weren’t. The foolish virgins believed that they could get what was needed to enter from those who had it; their request was rejected. They believed that when they showed up later and shouted ‘Lord, Lord, let us in’ that Jesus would the door; they believed wrong. The foolish virgins had plenty of believing going on, plenty of trusting, plenty of ‘faith.’ So what was the problem? Their faith was rooted in nothing more than their own imagination. The point is this: it isn’t those who think or believe that they are prepared to meet their Lord who will be welcomed into heaven – but those who know they are prepared.

 

And for that what we need is not some weird, abstract, circular or emotional faith in our own faith – we need faith that is rooted in the things of God. God promises that Jesus died for your sins because he died for the sins of the world (1 John 2:2).God promises that baptism saves us (1 Peter 3:21). God promises that the words of absolution spoken by a man actually forgive sins (John 20:21-23). God promises that the body and blood of Jesus are truly present in Holy Communion for the purpose of forgiving our sins, confirming and strengthening our faith – which is really nothing more or less than trust in his life, death and resurrection for us (Luke 22:19). When your faith is rooted in the words, promises and sacraments of God – then you can be sure that you are prepared to meet Jesus whenever he returns.

 

In the end, while our natural tendency, when thinking about the end of time, is to ask “when will this happen?” This parable teaches that we aren’t supposed ask when but who? In the parable the virgins don’t go out to keep watch; they went out to meet the bridegroom. Meeting the groom is the point. The groom, not the oil, got the five wise virgins into the wedding reception. And what got the five foolish virgins locked out was not their lack of oil but because the groom did not know them. The groom is everything! Those who meet him are saved; those who don’t aren’t! And Jesus tells us that we can meet him now until the end of time in the water, words, bread and wine of Baptism, Absolution and Holy Communion. Only a fool would refuse to keep watch by rejecting or neglecting these God-given means of preparation. Amen.

 

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