Matthew 26:26-30 - Significant Words - April 1, 2021

Some words that have been recorded in history are so familiar that they need no explanation or introduction. “In the beginning…” “It is finished.” “To be, or not to be: that is the question.” “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” “I have a dream.” Tonight, we’re going to closely examine some of the most significant words ever spoken. Words that have been repeated with a regularity and devotion like no other words in human history. In fact, in Latin, the words before us are simply called the Verba, “the words.” These are the words our Savior spoke when he instituted the Lord’s Supper. Why are they so significant?  

These words are words of proclamation, not prayer. Pastors aren’t praying to God when they speak these words. They aren’t asking, petitioning God to do something. Nor are they asking the congregation to do something. This is what Christian churches of the Reformed tradition believe. John Calvin viewed these words as an exhortation to the congregation to lift up their hearts in faith to where Jesus is – that is, in heaven (Oxford History of Worship, 322). (This is the rather slippery manner in which the Reformed would claim to believe that Jesus is “really” present in Holy Communion.) But you heard Jesus, you heard that these words are neither prayer nor exhortation. They are proclamation. With these words Jesus was simply proclaiming precisely what he was doing on the night he was betrayed and what he is doing right here as often as the church uses them in accordance with his institution and command.

These words are revelation, not incantation. An incantation is a spell. With an incantation, as long as you speak the words the right way, you have whatever they promise. Why would anyone think that repeating Jesus’ words is equivalent to casting a spell? Well, in the medieval church priests tended to consecrate the elements while facing away from the congregation (making it hard to hear what they were saying and see what they were doing) and they spoke the words in Latin – which most people did not understand. Some commentators believe that the Latin for this is my body – “hoc est corpus meum” – was understood as “hocus pocus” by the people – which is why to this day magicians use these words in their acts.

But Jesus wasn’t casting a spell, he was revealing information that couldn’t otherwise be known. Put yourself in the disciples’ shoes. They know a lot about Jesus already. They know that he is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29). They know that he came to give his life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28). They know that he will be betrayed, convicted, condemned and crucified (Mark 10:33-34). They know these things, but they don’t really understand them. On this night, however, his last night before his death, Jesus pulls all the pieces together for them. He reveals to them that his body will be given and his blood will be shed in the same way lambs were handed over to be slaughtered in the place of those who offered them in the Passover.

Luther notes in his Small Catechism that the most important part of this Sacrament isn’t our eating and drinking, but the words “given” and “poured out for you for the forgiveness of sins.” These words reveal to us why Jesus’ body is being given and his blood is being poured out: for the forgiveness of sins. Of course, anyone who knows the Gospel knows this, but the fact that these words are connected to a visible sacrament makes these words very personal. In this Sacrament, Jesus is not just bestowing forgiveness in general, he is revealing that the forgiveness he purchased and won on the cross is for you: (forgive me for naming names, but this forgiveness is for you _______________, personally). These words reveal that Jesus took your place under God’s wrath and condemnation. These words reveal that you have been given Jesus’ place, as a beloved and holy child of God. In a few minutes, we will join together to confess this truth according to the words of Luther’s Small Catechism. As we do, I encourage you to note how frequently we confess that this sacrament is “for you.” This sacrament bridges the gap between the salvation Jesus won for the world on the cross and believing individuals in all times and places. On the cross Jesus gave his body and shed his blood for the sins of the world; in the words of institution he reveals that in this Sacrament he delivers that same body and blood to you.  

So, these are words of proclamation, not prayer; of revelation, not incantation; and words of reliving, not recollecting. We don’t celebrate Holy Communion merely to remember what happened in an upper room 2000 years ago. We do it to recognize that in the Sacrament Jesus comes to us right here and right now. When you step forward in a few minutes to this altar, don’t imagine yourself in that upper room with Jesus, see through your eyes of faith that in these words Jesus comes here to be with you. In other words, the meal that Jesus instituted in that upper room is still going on today; it’s a meal that hasn’t ceased for 2000 years; a meal that continues every time believers gather to receive it and will continue until Jesus returns in glory.

That’s what we believe and confess. But that’s not what all Christians believe and confess. For the Reformed, for generic Evangelicals, it’s nothing more than a memorial meal; a sacred act done as a reminder of what Jesus did in the past and who is now in heaven but definitely not here and now. In other words, for the Reformed who deny Jesus’ real presence in this meal administered at this altar, the Sacrament is little more than a festival commemorating a dead man. For us, it’s the opposite. We don’t gather at this altar to remember a dead man, we gather here to eat a meal served to us by our risen and living Savior! This Sacrament doesn’t take us in heart and mind back to Jesus in that upper room; it brings Jesus here to us!

The single word, remembrance (Luke 22:19), makes this clear. The Greek word is used in the Bible in only one place outside of the words of institution. It’s in Hebrews 10:3. There the author contrasts the repeated sacrifices done at the Temple with the one and done sacrifice of Christ on the cross. These sacrifices reminded them of their sins year after year (Hebrews 10:3). You know how at the most inopportune times your conscience brings back to your consciousness some sin you’ve committed in the past? So vividly that you can taste it, touch it, taste it – and be flooded with guilt? That’s what Jesus wants this Sacrament to give you regarding your forgiveness. Jesus wants you to come to this altar to receive forgiveness with your mouth so that you can touch it, see it, taste it – and have your conscience flooded with comfort and relief. These words are not words of recollection but reliving.

And, finally, these are words of unity, not division. “Ha,” you may be thinking – because you know that after the consecration I will only invite those who are communicant members of Risen Savior or of other WELS and ELS churches in our fellowship to participate. “Ha,” you may be thinking because the practice of closed communion appears to be one of the most divisive and polarizing practices in all of Christianity. “Ha,” you may be thinking because you’ve had members of your own family here in church and you’ve been divided from them because they’ve had to stay in their seats while you came forward.

You may scoff at my saying that closed communion brings about unity not division. But did you know this? We’re not alone. Not only has closed communion been the regular practice throughout the vast majority of Christian history, but to this day not only confessional Lutherans but also Roman Catholics and the Orthodox practice it. Consider this: the only major denominations that are staunchly pro-life, that reject the ordination of women, and that don’t condone homosexuality are also the only denominations that – at least in their official doctrine – practice closed communion. Maybe we’re on to something?

Yes, it’s true, on this side of heaven these words can be divisive. That’s because even though Jesus fills everything in every way (Ephesians 1:23), there’s still only one Jesus present here at this altar. What I mean is that we can’t each have our own version of Jesus that we confess to be present here at this altar. One Jesus can’t be both truly present here and only symbolically present at the same time. One Jesus can’t teach us both to ordain women and not to ordain them, to bless homosexual unions and not to bless them, to pray to Mary and not to pray to Mary, to baptize babies and not to baptize babies One Jesus can’t mean both “When I return I will judge the living and the dead” and “when I return I will establish an earthly kingdom” at the same time. Jesus can be everywhere with everyone all the time, but he can’t be a logical fallacy. He can’t be a living contradiction. He’s not a piece of clay that each of us can mold however we want. There is only one Jesus present at this altar and that is why we can’t possibly stand shoulder to shoulder with anyone who doesn’t confess this one Jesus.

And yet, the same Sacrament that illustrates the division we see on this side of heaven also illustrates our communion with those on the other side. There’s a good reason that the words spoken just before we receive the Sacrament include: “therefore, with all the saints on earth and hosts of heaven, we praise your holy name and join their glorious song.” There’s a reason why in the prayer for communicants we say, “in this sacrament time and eternity meet as we celebrate a foretaste of the feast now enjoyed by all who are in heavenly glory” (CW Altar Book, 245). There’s a reason why many older, especially Scandinavian, churches made the design decision to construct a communion rail that was a half-circle – a visible illustration of the spiritual reality that when a believer is done kneeling on this side of the rail, they simply move to the other to celebrate the same Holy Supper.

This means that when we step up to this altar, we’re not alone. We are joining the great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language who are in heaven around the same altar (Revelation 7:9). Yes, these words may divide us from those in this world who do not believe in and confess the one Jesus revealed in Scripture – the only Jesus that actually exists. But it also unites us with all those around the world and those in heaven in have taken their seat at the wedding supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:1-10). These words don’t primarily divide, they primarily unite us in faith here and now and unite us with believers of all times and places.

Some words don’t need any explanation or introduction. If everyone took Jesus at his Word, the words of institution would need no further explanation. I pray that after tonight you understand and believe that these words are words of proclamation, not prayer; of revelation, not incantation; of reliving, not recollecting; of unity and not division. But most of all, I pray that when you hear these words, you believe that Jesus is really present here for you, to offer you his very real body and blood for the very real and very personal forgiveness of your sins. Amen.

Mark 11:1-11 - The Palm Sunday Paradox - March 28 ,2021

You and I know this day as Palm Sunday. However, at various times in church history and in many churches today other Christians know this day as “Passion Sunday.” They intend the day to serve as a one-day summary of Holy Week. Palms were part of it, but they were only the introductory part – the service ends with Jesus’ death on the cross. Why? While I came across many reasons, one of the most obvious is that they didn’t believe that Christians would be willing to attend midweek services during Lent or come back to church on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday to hear the Passion history – so if the people were going to hear it, it had to be today. The Lutheran reformers, however, broke with this tradition. The reformers decided to give Palm Sunday it’s proper due – including the great contradictions this day presents: Jesus enters Jerusalem as a King – a King who comes to die. This is the Palm Sunday Paradox.

Jesus comes into Jerusalem as he never has before: in royal majesty, as a King. Did you catch the majesty in Mark’s words? Go into the village ahead of you. As soon as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it, and he will send it back here without delay. They left and found a colt on the street, tied at a door; and they untied it. Some who were standing there asked them, “What are you doing, untying that colt?” The disciples answered them just as Jesus had instructed them, and the men let them go. They brought the colt to Jesus, threw their garments on it, and Jesus sat on it. Majestic, isn’t it? Jesus commissions his disciples to depart on a curious mission – and they go. He requisitions a colt that belongs to someone else for his own use – and they allow it. And, not only do his disciples and the owners obey his Word, but even the colt does. I’ve never been involved in breaking a colt – or any animal for that matter – but I understand it’s no small feat to ride an unbroken colt. Yet this colt submits to its Creator.

We have no other record of Jesus riding anything, anywhere, at any time, except here. And as he rides into Jerusalem the majesty continues: Many people spread their garments on the road. Others spread branches that they had cut from the fields. People do many things to honor heads of state today, but I’ve never seen people ripping off their coats and throwing them on the ground so that the leader’s feet wouldn’t have to touch the dust of the road. I’ve never seen people run out into the fields to cut down branches to make a royal carpet. But that’s not all. They not only hail him as their King but as their Savior – hosanna means “save us.” And, perhaps the strangest part of all – Jesus accepts their acclamation and praise. Many times before he had told his followers to stay silent (Mark 1:44; 5:43; 7:36) and had even fled in order to avoid being anointed as King (John 6:15) – but today he silences no one and even tells his enemies that if the crowds were to remain silent, the stones would shout out (Luke 19:40). Finally, Jesus rides right up to the temple, goes into it, and looks around like he owns the place – because he does. What power, what royalty, what majesty!

After following Jesus for six weeks of Lent – with all of his talk of betrayal and suffering and death – it makes you wonder: “Who is this guy?” Where’s the Son of Man who has no place to lay his head (Luke 9:58)? Where’s the poor Jew who doesn’t have the money to pay the temple tax (Matthew 17:24-27)? Where’s the despised prophet the people of Nazareth tried to kill (Luke 4:14-30)? No doubt some of the people who were in these crowds – namely, Jesus’ own disciples – remembered these events from Jesus’ humble ministry – but apparently the pomp and circumstance of the moment pushed those memories right out of their minds. Jesus has finally made it – and this is the Jesus the people want. And, if we’re honest, this is the Jesus we often want. The people who follow this kind of Jesus wouldn’t ever get depressed, sick, worried or afraid. A Jesus who is so obviously the Lord of nature wouldn’t let natural disasters – or mutant viruses – harm his people. A Jesus who is universally hailed as King would certainly be able to fill the seats of churches around the world every week. Wouldn’t it be great if this glorious, majestic Jesus were the Jesus we have?

But then there’s the reality that our hymn wasn’t wrong when we sang “No tramp of soldier’s marching feet, with banners and with drums, no sound of music’s martial beat: “The King of glory comes!” (CWS 716:1) Yes, Jesus is King – but King of what? A colt, the foal of a donkey (Zechariah 9:9). While David put Solomon on a donkey to prove that Solomon was his rightful heir (1 Kings 1:33), he didn’t put him on a miserable little colt. Have you ever seen a full-grown man riding on a miniature horse? It’s ridiculous. The whole world knows that royal figures don’t ride on donkeys but on stallions or in chariots (or in limousines). Yet King Jesus rides into his capital on a small donkey.

Jesus may have come as a conquering King, but you don’t see the Jewish leaders or the Romans falling on their knees begging for mercy or running away in fear. Nor do you see sin, death, or the devil fleeing from his presence. In fact, they’re all here and they’re all licking their chops. At last the One whom God had said would crush their skulls (Genesis 3:15) has landed on their home-turf. He’s no longer preaching and teaching in outlying areas of Israel. He’s no longer using his divine power to foil their wicked plans. At last it’s their hour. There’s definitely something besides majesty on the scene here – something that we can relate to very well. Beyond the cheering crowds, the storm-clouds of death are gathering, the devil is prowling, and the suffocating weight of the sin and guilt of the world are looming for Jesus.

There’s something other than majesty at the temple, too. Yes, Jesus goes to the Temple like he owns the place – but he’s not going there to be crowned or enthroned. The crowds didn’t worship him as Immanuel… “God with us.” (Matthew 1:23). And he couldn’t even stay in the Temple. No, like the condemned criminal he would soon be declared to be (Numbers 15:32-36; Hebrews 13:11-13), Jesus had to spend the night outside of the Temple, outside of the city limits of Jerusalem (Mark 11:11). Someone to whom God had charged the sins of the world (John 1:29) wasn’t fit to stay in the holy city much less the temple.

And that proves that this Jesus is the King we really need. This Jesus of shame and suffering, of bleeding and dying is the One who brings you back here Sunday after Sunday. What comfort, what help, what salvation could Jesus provide if he had only come to Jerusalem in majesty, only as the King of kings and Lord of lords? Yes, there would be glory, laud and honor for him – but what would there be for us? Only judgment. We don’t just need a mighty and majestic King – we need a sacrifice. We don’t just need a Good Shepherd – we need an unblemished Lamb (1 Peter 1:19). Actually, we need a scapegoat (Leviticus 16). We need God to heap our sins on Jesus (John 1:29). And he could only do that if Jesus was sinless. You can’t bear anyone else’s sins if you have your own to bear. You can’t answer for anyone else’s sins if you have to answer for your own.

The devil knew this and that’s why immediately after Jesus’ Baptism he pounced on him in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11). If somehow, someway the devil had been able to make Jesus sin just once in thought, word or action – then he could no longer be our Savior. But the devil failed, Jesus didn’t sin – and now he comes here to Jerusalem as the sinless Lamb of God who will take away the sins of the world and appease God’s wrath against sinners like us (1 John 2:2). He comes to Jerusalem as the answer to sin, as the one who will put death to death (1 Corinthians 15:54-55), as the one who will silence Satan’s accusations once and for all (Revelation 12:10). You can see why sin, death, and the devil can’t wait to get a clear shot at him, can’t you?

Of course, we know that, in the end, Jesus will defeat this unholy trinity – but do you see the comfort there for us in how Jesus wins? He doesn’t win by his majestic entrance; he doesn’t win by the acclamation of the crowds; he doesn’t win by being crowned at the Temple. Jesus doesn’t win by being any of the things that crowd that day and the world today looks for in a King: power, fame, wealth, glory. And Jesus doesn’t win apart from suffering, hardship and affliction. Instead, Jesus overcomes sin, death and the devil by means of suffering, hardship, and affliction.

Do you know what that means for us? It means that suffering, hardship and affliction are not out of place in our lives. If Jesus had conquered by being beyond suffering, by being accepted by the crowds, by being above hardship – he would be majestic and, likely, popular today, but he wouldn’t be any comfort to we who are suffering, who are rejected and persecuted, who endure hardship and sadness. If Jesus had only entered Jerusalem with majesty, he would only appeal to the precious few who experience majesty in this world.

Do you know anyone like that? Is that what you see when you look in the mirror? More importantly, have you known anyone who looked majestic as they’re lying in a casket? Jesus had every right to claim majesty for himself – but then he would have been worthless to us; because the Bible is clear that none of us are majestic, rich or famous enough to impress God, our judge (Romans 3:10-18; 2 Corinthians 5:10). We are real people. Real sinful people. Real, sinful people need a Jesus who comes in lowliness and humility to do what we cannot do: to defeat sin, death and the devil by paying for our sins, by dying our death and by enduring hell in our place.

And that is why we continue to let Palm Sunday stand in its own right and don’t try to cram all of Holy Week into one hour. (It’s not only because we are confident that confessional Lutherans are eager and happy to return to church on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday to listen as Jesus completes their salvation.) No, it’s because Palm Sunday gives us reason to rejoice in its own right. There is a very good reason for us to sing loudly, to wave our palm branches, to walk out of here singing, not weeping – because Palm Sunday reveals Jesus as a King, yes; but a majestically humble King – a King who comes to die for common, run-of-the-mill sinners like us.

This day is a day of paradox. Yes, there’s majesty. There’s the rightful recognition that Jesus is Lord. There’s the praise due to him as Savior. Jesus stands in his rightful place in the Temple today. So we properly sing “all glory, laud, and honor” to him. But there’s something else in the air on Palm Sunday. There’s a hint of suffering, sacrifice and death. There’s a theme of humility mingled in the majesty. And it’s not the majesty but the humility of Jesus on Palm Sunday that speaks to us; because the suffering, the sacrifice and the death that hangs in the air on Palm Sunday promises the smell of Easter lilies. And that’s where we find the glory in this Palm Sunday Paradox. Amen.

Luke 22:1-6 - Significant Deal - March 24, 2021

From the time it premiered in 1963, Let’s Make a Deal has been one of the most popular game shows on television. Contestants dressed in flamboyant costumes and host Monty Hall (and today Wayne Brady) asked them to choose between a prize they could see and one that was hidden behind a door or under a box. At times, contestants would make great deals, trading the prize they could see for something far more valuable. Other times, the deals they made weren’t so good. They would trade a great prize for something worth nothing, a prize known as a “zonk.” [1] Like most of you, I don’t have the time or desire to watch daytime game shows – so if any part of that description is inaccurate, blame Wikipedia. Why bring it up? Because “let’s make a deal” is essentially what Judas said to the chief priests and officers of the temple guard in our text this evening. It’s the sad and shameful account of Judas making a deal to betray Jesus to his enemies; a deal that turned out to be far more significant than Judas could have ever imagined.

We believe our text takes place at some point on Wednesday of Holy Week. By now, the chief priests and experts in the law were hell-bent on finding a way to arrest and kill Jesus. Why? For a variety of reasons – reasons that are pretty typical motivators for those in power to want to get rid of their rivals: because he was a threat to their power and prestige; because he threatened their control of the people; because he had made them look bad in public on several occasions. Finally, and probably most importantly, because he was not speaking and behaving in the way they thought the Messiah should speak and behave. He wasn’t concerned about their nit-picky, manmade rules regarding the Sabbath and ritual washings (Mark 7:1-23). He hung out with and even ate with all the wrong kinds of people, including tax collectors and prostitutes (Mark 2:16). Rather than emphasize obedience and sacrifice as the way to get right with God, Jesus proclaimed a message of God’s grace and mercy (Matthew 9:13) – and it got under their skin. But the last straw was Jesus’ miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead (John 11:1-44). This miracle led to a meeting of the Sanhedrin in which they concluded: what are we going to do, because this man is doing many miraculous signs? If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him. Then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation (John 11:47-48) – which led to Caiaphas’ unwitting prophecy: you know nothing at all. You do not even consider that it is better for us that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish (John 11:49-50).

In their minds, Jesus was dangerous. He had become far too popular with the people. They had witnessed what had happened on Palm Sunday when Jesus entered Jerusalem and the crowds gathered to shout blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! (Luke 19:38) Jesus was so popular that the Pharisees said to one another, “You see? You are accomplishing nothing. Look! The world has gone after him” (John 12:19). It was Jesus’ popularity that prevented the chief priests and teachers of the law from carrying out their plan to arrest and kill him prior to this. They feared a violent backlash if they tried to take Jesus away publicly. They needed help with their evil scheme – a way to get rid of Jesus quietly and discreetly.

So it was a dream come true when Judas came to them out of the blue and offered to betray Jesus to them. Satan had entered Judas (Luke 22:3) and led him to meet with the chief priests to hatch a plan to do away with Jesus once and for all. Their scheme would come to fruition within 24 hours. On Maundy Thursday, as Jesus was celebrating the Passover and instituting the Lord’s Supper Judas left the Upper Room to alert the chief priests that the final piece of their plan was about to fall into place (John 13:30). He would lead the temple guard to Jesus as he and his disciples were worshiping and praying in the darkness of the Garden of Gethsemane, away from the crowds in the city. And then, in the ultimate act of betrayal, Judas would walk right up to Jesus and identify him to the soldiers with a kiss (Luke 22:47-48). All for thirty pieces of silver (Matthew 26:15).

As shocking as this all is, the truth is that it was not the first time Judas had betrayed Jesus – or his fellow disciples, for that matter. In John 12, when Jesus was eating at the house of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, Mary anointed Jesus’ feet with very expensive perfume. Judas objected to this act of faith and worship. He claimed that the perfume should have been sold and the proceeds given to the poor. John exposed his real motivation: he did not say this because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief. He held the money box and used to steal what was put into it (John 12:6). Long before Judas made a deal to lead the temple guards to arrest Jesus, he had already made a far more significant deal with his own conscience. He had made a deal that instead of fearing, loving and trusting in Jesus as his Savior he would manipulate his relationship with Jesus to serve his own greedy heart. Judas is a cautionary tale of how sin, when coddled rather than confessed, when toyed with rather than put to death in repentance, continually mutates and grows. Judas is a living example of what James later wrote: when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin. And sin, when it is full grown, gives birth to death (James 1:15) – death for Jesus and eternal death for Judas (Acts 1:25).

But Judas isn’t alone. I’ve betrayed Jesus and so have you. I’ve manipulated my relationship with Jesus to serve my own interests, and so have you. How? Jesus gives each of us 168 hours of life every week, how many of those have I spent serving myself rather than serving God by serving others? Jesus has given me every ounce of my talent and every cent of my money – how much of that capital do I use serving myself rather than God and others? Jesus has given me the good news of his victory over sin, death and the devil for sinners – all sinners – and how often don’t I keep that life-saving message to myself rather than communicating it to unbelieving family and friends? How many times have I used my attendance at worship and Bible class or my offerings and service as a justification to continue practicing my pet sins, thinking, “Jesus will forgive me on Sunday, so it’s ok to sin today.” How often do I expect that my relationship with Jesus should make my life here and now better, sometimes demanding it in my prayers, rather than understanding that following Jesus now means taking up a cross and following him to the glory of heaven only after this life is over? Judas is certainly not alone in his betrayal of Jesus. We’ve all made deals with our consciences to betray Jesus. Judas had his price, and so do we.

But here’s perhaps the most surprising part: God would use Judas’ betrayal and the subsequent events to make a payment that Judas could never have imagined. Not a payment of silver coins but the payment of the holy, precious blood (1 Peter 1:18-19) and innocent suffering and death of Jesus that would serve as the payment for all sin of all people of all time (1 John 2:2). While Judas – and we – have betrayed Jesus for a moment of pleasure, a few dollars, or the illusion of freedom – Jesus would never betray us; and he would never betray his Father. In fact, Jesus would instead be forsaken by his own Father so that his Father would never forsake us to the horrors of hell (Matthew 27:46). He would voluntarily shed his blood and offer his life as the ransom price for our souls (Matthew 20:28; 1 Peter 1:18-19). And, just as he predicted, he would rise again three days later to prove our forgiveness, our justification – to declare once and for all that we are no longer guilty of betraying our God and Savior (Romans 4:25; Hebrews 10:12).

We betray Jesus on a daily basis – but there has never been a day, nor will there ever be a day – on which Jesus will betray us. Jesus has promised to be with us always, even to the end of the age (Matthew 28:20). Jesus has promised to never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). At this very moment, Jesus is standing before his Father’s throne in heaven, interceding for us, arguing for our innocence and righteousness based on his merits (1 Timothy 2:5-6). Even now Jesus is ruling everything in this world for our benefit – for the good of the church – so that we might remain in the faith and that many more would come to faith (Ephesians 1:22). And, one day, just as he promised, he will return to deliver you and me and all believers out of this world of sorrow to himself in heaven (Matthew 24:29-31). That’s the significant and amazing deal that Jesus has made with us – inked in the blood he shed on the cross, sealed by his resurrection from the dead, delivered to us in Word and Sacrament. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal!

Judas didn’t really know what he was doing when he met with the chief priests and officers of the temple guard to concoct a plan to betray Jesus. He thought he was simply going to make some easy money. By God’s grace, we do. We know that this deal was of significant help to the devil and the chief priests in their goal of doing away with Jesus. We know that this deal reveals the deals we make in our own lives to betray Jesus. We know that God used this deal to bring about the greatest good of all: the death of his own Son for the salvation of traitorous sinners like you and like me. It might be entertaining to watch people dressed in goofy outfits make a deal on a game show – but it’s vital that we understand that there has never been a more significant deal made in human history than the one made between Judas, the chief priests and the devil – because this deal leads directly to our salvation. Thank God for orchestrating this deal. Amen.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Let's_Make_a_Deal

Hebrews 5:7-10 - Learn Submission from Jesus - March 21, 2021

One of the hottest of the currently hot-button words these days is “injustice.” Injustice is a fact of life in this fallen world. And from the time we are old enough to speak, we are quick to speak out against it. “He took my toy, tell him to give it back.” “I deserved the starting spot on the team, but the coach gave it to his son instead.” But children aren’t alone in their sensitivity to real or perceived injustice. For around a year now, people throughout the country have been protesting what they saw as the unjust death of George Floyd in police custody. On January 6, dozens of people illegally entered the U.S. Capitol building to protest what they regarded as an unjust, unfair election result. From someone cutting us off on the highway to being passed over for a promotion – there are few things that get us more fired up than injustice, especially when it’s personal. But none of the injustices we’ve ever faced in our lives can compare to the injustice Jesus faced in his – not only from his enemies, but from the church, the government, and God himself. But rather than incite a riot or protest his treatment, Jesus submitted to it, down to his very last breath. In doing so, Jesus both saved us from God’s justice and gives us a lesson in submission.

These verses of Hebrews offer us peek behind the curtain of one of Christianity’s deepest mysteries: the interplay, the relationship between the two natures of Christ: true man and true God. The author of Hebrews writes that in the days of his flesh, that is, during his life of humility here on earth, [Jesus] offered prayers and pleas with loud cries and tears. Why? Because as true God Jesus knew exactly what the future held for him and his humanity recoiled in horror from it. The Gospel writers give us the text of the prayers Jesus offered: from Tuesday of Holy Week: now my soul is troubled (John 12:27); from the Garden of Gethsemane: My soul is very sorrowful, even to the point of death (Matthew 26:38); Abba, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me (Mark 14:36). In Gethsemane, Jesus prayed with such passion that his sweat became like great drops of blood falling to the ground (Luke 22:44). Have you ever prayed so passionately that you were physically worn out, so intensely that you broke a sweat? I’ll be honest – I haven’t.

Is that a problem? Yes, it is; not the sweating drops of blood part, but the intense, focused, frequent, submissive part. There are two ditches we can fall into in our prayer lives. It’s easy for us to think of prayer as a Sunday morning thing; maybe a mealtime thing and forget that God commands us to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17) for everyone and everything (1 Timothy 2:1-2). Why would we think that way? Well, there’s an element of pride and an element of distrust. We proudly imagine that we can handle life on our own and we don’t really think that prayer does any good; that God will really hear and answer our prayers. And so our prayers become more and more infrequent and less and less confident. Imagine if we communicated with our spouses like we often communicate with our heavenly Father: sporadically at best, and usually only when we need something or have something to complain about. That relationship probably wouldn’t last very long, would it? On the other hand; maybe you do have a consistent prayer life. You know the Lord’s Prayer and the meal prayers and Luther’s morning and evening prayers so well that you don’t even have to think about them anymore. When that happens, we can find ourselves slipping into the ditch on the other side of the road: do not babble like the heathen, since they think that they will be heard because of their many words (Matthew 6:7). If we speak the words but our mind is somewhere else, that is exactly what God hears: babbling. If our prayers are sporadic, filled with doubt or insincere; we are sinning against the 2nd commandment. And that is a problem.

Our problematic prayer life is part of why Jesus was in such a struggle in Gethsemane. His suffering had already begun; the weight of the world’s sin was on him and his human flesh was weak. So what did he do? Did he protest against the injustice of it all? No. He prayed. He prayed to the one who was able to save him from death. Jesus knew that his best friends had fallen asleep, the betrayer and the mob were on their way, the cross was waiting and that his heavenly Father was the only one who could help. He prayed that God would take this cup of suffering from him and he was heard because of his reverence. Jesus’ perfect prayer life covers our sins and makes our prayers acceptable to God. His blood, his sweat, his tears in Gethsemane were all on our behalf. 

Now, obviously, we aren’t in Jesus’ situation. Often the injustice we suffer is our own fault. More than that, unlike Jesus, the only justice we really deserve is a lifetime of suffering in this world followed by an eternity of suffering in hell. But we can learn a few things from Jesus about prayer. Over the course of his earthly life, Jesus prayed in good times and bad, day and night, both for himself and for others. He honored his Father by praying without ceasing. Sometimes he pleaded with His Father, but he never once questioned his Father’s will (Matthew 26:39). Now, you might say, “A lot of good it did him; he still ended up crucified; apparently God didn’t answer him.” But God did answer Jesus. His answer was ‘no, there is no other way.’ We have to be grateful for that answer and grateful that Jesus didn’t respond to this injustice with resentment or rejection – because if He had not suffered, we would have no hope of salvation. God also answered Jesus by sending an angel to strengthen him for his torturous journey ahead (Luke 22:43). From Jesus we learn that the proper way to respond to injustice is to pray often, to pray confidently, and to pray in submission to God’s will – knowing that his will is best – even if his will is that we suffer (Matthew 7:11). 

Jesus gives a powerful lesson on prayer; but he also gives a powerful lesson on obedience. Although he was the Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered. It’s impossible to comprehend how Jesus, the all-knowing Son of God, could learn anything. The author of Hebrews concedes: it is difficult to explain (Hebrews 5:11). But learn Jesus did, and his education came through suffering. Why did Jesus need to learn obedience? Had Jesus ever been disobedient? Of course not. The proof of Jesus’ innocence is overwhelming: the Sanhedrin struggled for hours to fabricate some crime to charge Jesus with (Mark 14:56); Pilate testified to Jesus’ innocence over and over again (Matthew 27:15-26); when he had died, even the centurion who had supervised his crucifixion had to confess truly this man was the Son of God (Mark 15:39). We could say that up to this point Jesus had been perfectly obedient, but not yet fully obedient, because he had not yet suffered for the sins of the world. One translator paraphrases this way “And even though Jesus was God’s Son, he had to learn from experience what it was like to obey, when obeying meant suffering.” 

If Jesus could learn obedience through suffering, what does that tell us? It says that we should probably get to class, right? Jesus’ suffering is a reminder that because of sin, there is no corner of this world safe from suffering. You will suffer. I will suffer. There will be painful events in our future. The question is: how will we react? And now, during this brief reprieve from life, is the time to prepare ourselves to face suffering. If we react to suffering the way the rest of the world does – with rioting and protesting – then we are not learning the lessons God is teaching. When Jesus suffered he trusted his Father’s wisdom and leaned on him for help. So when it doesn’t seem fair that no matter how hard you work you can’t get ahead financially – learn to trust God to provide (Matthew 6:25-34). When God allows pain to linger or sends sickness after sickness – learn that this world is not your true home (Philippians 3:20); learn to long ever more intensely for the glory of heaven. When friends or family or colleagues betray you – learn to lean on God as your refuge and strength, a helper who can always be found in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1).

And when it seems like you are failing every course in God’s school of suffering – turn to Jesus, whose perfect obedience covers your disobedience. Who after he was brought to his goal, he became the source of eternal salvation for everyone who obeys him. What was Jesus’ goal? As we heard in our gospel lesson (John 12:24, 32-33), Jesus’ goal was not to live but to die; to save us from our sins by his death on the cross. By his death, Jesus became the source of eternal salvation for everyone who obeys him. This is why the cross is the central symbol of Christianity; this is why when we are suffering we should look to the cross – for in the cross we find the meaning and purpose of our own suffering; in the cross Jesus meets us in our suffering; in the cross we find forgiveness, peace with God and the hope of eternal life.

If you were listening closely, that last phrase might have struck you as odd; that salvation comes to those who [obey] him. I thought that a person is justified by faith without the works of the law (Romans 3:28). I thought that the gospel message is that we can’t and don’t have to do anything to be saved. Now salvation is only available to the obedient? What’s the deal? A little context will help. This letter was originally addressed to Hebrews, to Jews – to people who were being tempted – because they were suffering persecution – to turn away from Jesus and back to their Old Testament roots – roots which placed their hope of salvation in their own obedience to the Law. As a result, many of them were disobedient to God’s most basic command, spelled out by the Apostle John: this then is his command: that we believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ (1 John 3:23). This is not the obedience of works, but the obedience of faith (see Romans 1:5). (The Greek term used here is related to the Greek word that means “to listen” to someone – so this obedience is listening to Jesus say It is finished (John 19:30), and responding: “Amen! Yes it is!”) Faith is not an obligation or a burden; it’s God’s gift to us (Ephesians 2:8-9). In good times and bad, we cling to faith in Jesus as the only thing in this world that won’t change, won’t increase in price or lose its value, that no act of injustice can steal from us. Only through faith in Jesus can we learn to be obedient to God’s will – especially when it is God’s will for us to suffer.

We will fail in our prayer life. We will fail to submit to God’s will. That’s why Jesus agonized in Gethsemane and why carried our failures to the cross. He obeyed his Father because we haven’t. He suffered hell so we wouldn’t. He paid for the sins we couldn’t. That’s the gospel. That’s the ultimate lesson God wants us to learn. It’s the lesson that fuels our prayer life. It’s the lesson that that leads us to obediently submit to God’s will. When we think of it that way, when we understand that Jesus willingly submitted to the greatest injustice in history to save us from God’s justice – then the minor injustices we suffer in life don’t seem quite so outrageous, do they? When life seems unfair and unjust learn from Jesus to submit in prayer and with obedience; and, above all, look to him as the source of eternal salvation, the one who will come again to save you from this unjust world. Amen.

John 12:23-36 - Significant Appearance - March 17, 2021

If you knew you had only one last chance to speak in public, send one last Tweet or make one last Facebook post before you died, what would you say? How would you want to be remembered? What would message would you want to send to the world? Our text tonight brings us to the end of the day on Tuesday of Holy Week. It marks the final public appearance of Jesus before he is arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane, placed on trial and crucified. Tonight we will focus on three statements which make Jesus’ final public appearance very significant.

First, Jesus says: the time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Amen, Amen, I tell you: Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it continues to be one kernel. But if it dies, it produces much grain. For three years, Jesus had repeatedly said that his time had not yet come (John 2:4; 7:6; 7:30; 8:20). But now, the time was right, his time had come. Everything was now ready for him to complete the mission for which his Father had sent him into the world.

He says that his mission will end in glory – but not in the way many were hoping or expecting. He would not incite a rebellion and conquer his enemies and rule with subjects bowing down to him. No, instead, his enemies would rise up against him, conquering him until his head was bowed in death on a cross. He would voluntarily offer his life as the perfect payment for sin (John 10:18). For Jesus, like a kernel of wheat, the path to glory led through death.

This is the theology of the cross that Jesus came to both teach and to live. He would not reign in a palace but hang from a cross. He would not lie on a bed of roses but on the cold stone of a tomb. He would not be wrapped in a robe of the finest fabrics but in burial cloths. While many would consider this theology anything but glorious – here is where we see his glory most clearly. Because through his death, Jesus would produce much grain. This is the central paradox, the key mystery of Christianity – that both Christ and Christians must die to this world in order to gain life – and the reason that many shake their heads in disgust at the theology of the cross. But, as Jesus’ analogy proves, it’s true – both in agriculture and salvation – life comes through death.

What’s the grain Jesus is talking about? We are. Life comes to us by way of Jesus’ death. By his death, he has destroyed sin’s power to enslave us. He has destroyed the law’s power to condemn us. He has destroyed death’s power to hold us. For us, death is no longer the end. The grave is not our final home. As Jesus told Martha just one chapter earlier: I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live, even if he dies. And whoever lives and believes in me will never perish (John 11:25-26). As we wade ever deeper into Lent, Jesus wants us to have a clear understanding of his purpose: that he didn’t come to live, but to die – so that by his death he may produce a harvest of life and salvation.

The second thing we see in Jesus’ final public appearance is his humanity, his vulnerability, his honesty, his transparency. He reveals to the crowds the emotions that were boiling up in his heart: now my soul is troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? This is something of a preview of the words he would speak in roughly 48 hours in the Garden of Gethsemane: my Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me (Matthew 26:39).

Jesus knew the horrors the future held for him. He knew that it would include being beaten and whipped, being spit on and mocked, and suffering the excruciating pain of being nailed hand and foot to a cross. None of us can possibly imagine what those final hours were like for Jesus. But he knew every gory detail far ahead of time. Can you imagine knowing ahead of time that you were going to die an excruciating death? Without a doubt, we’d do anything and everything in our power to avoid such an end. But not Jesus. Jesus is not like us. Jesus marched steadfastly toward it.

And yet, as bad as the physical suffering would be, it could not compare to the spiritual and emotional isolation he would experience. Not just abandoned by his disciples, but abandoned by his own Father. It would be so agonizing that he would cry out My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46) That’s a good question, isn’t it? Why did God forsake his only, perfect, beloved Son? Jesus had never sinned; never hurt anyone. He spent every minute of every day carrying out his Father’s will down to the last letter. Why did God forsake his Son? You know why. In fact, you are why – and so am I. He was forsaken by God because he was bearing our curse, the curse of sin that demanded that we be abandoned by God to hell forever (Galatians 3:13). Knowing this, is it any wonder that Jesus’ soul is troubled?

And yet, just like later in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus does not allow his emotions to undermine his Father’s will or sabotage the mission he came to accomplish. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus qualified his petition with the submission of perfect faith: yet not as I will, but as you will (Matthew 26:39). In the same way, here he says no, this is the reason I came to this hour. Yes, this is the reason Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. This is the reason he spent three years preaching and teaching and healing and casting out demons. He didn’t come into this world to live, but to die. He said it himself: the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28). The reason Jesus came into this world was to endure the full horror of hell – separated from his own Father’s merciful presence – so that we never would. See Jesus bear his soul tonight – note how fully human, how vulnerable, how transparent he was – and give thanks that he was determined to do whatever it took to save your soul.

Which brings us to Jesus’ final words in his final public appearance before his arrest and crucifixion. He reveals the ultimate goal of his entire life, his entire mission on earth; he says: the light will be with you just a little while longer. Keep on walking while you have the light, so that darkness does not overtake you. The one who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going. While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become sons of light. What is Jesus’ ultimate goal as he presses forward to the goal of suffering and dying? Is it that we would pity him? Is it that we would imitate him? Is it that we would be motivated to live better, holier lives? No. His goal is very simple: that we would believe in him. Isn’t that amazing? In many cases, people who know they are dying might tell their friends and family to keep building the family business or to be responsible stewards of their inheritance or to somehow carry on their legacy. In other words, their concern is basically selfish –intended to influence the behavior of those who hear them. But here is Jesus, knowing the horrors that lay ahead, and his concern is not for himself or his legacy but for others; for us – that all who hear these last words would believe in him and be saved. Jesus’ last public words demonstrate that his will was in perfect harmony with his Father’s; they both want all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth (1 Timothy 2:4).

Jesus’ ultimate goal is our goal too. Our message to the people of this dying world is not selfish or self-centered. We don’t do what we do to bring ourselves glory or to maintain our legacy or for our own benefit. Nor is our goal here to simply lead people to pity Jesus or try their best to imitate him or motivate people to live better and holier lives. No, our message to the world is identical to Jesus’ final message: while you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become sons of light. There’s a sobering warning here, a warning I pray this pandemic has brought to the forefront of many minds – including the minds of our own families, friends and neighbors. The truth is that the clock is ticking. The clock is ticking for everyone personally and for this world generally. The light of the Gospel of Christ crucified for sinners will not be with us forever. Sadly, it appears that this light is fading in our own country right before our eyes. God has put us in this place at this time so that we might let the light of the Gospel shine. Let’s take Jesus’ last words to heart. Let’s make raising our children in this light, inviting our family and friends to bask in this light, to hearing and supporting the proclamation of this light to a very dark world the highest priority in our lives – just as Jesus did in his.

And so concludes Jesus’ final public appearance before his arrest, his suffering and his death. An appearance in which he explains his purpose – that he hadn’t come to live but to die – and through his death produce a harvest of live and salvation. An appearance in which he bears his soul – expressing his very real fear and revulsion toward the horrors he will endure in the coming days – but also his determination to go through with it for you and for me. An appearance in which he reveals his ultimate goal: that many would be drawn to him in faith as the light of the world so that they may become like him: sons of light. These are the very important things Jesus leaves with us and the world at his final, significant, public appearance. Let us take them to heart. Amen.

John 3:14-21 - Find the Joy in Faith - March 14, 2021

Joy. That was the traditional theme for this Sunday in the early church. The first word of the introit – what we call the “Prayer of the Day” – from Isaiah 66:10 (“rejoice with Jerusalem…”) began with the Latin word for rejoice, laetare, and so this Sunday was called “Rejoice” or “Joy” Sunday. It was intended to serve as a kind of rest stop, a respite from the serious and penitential nature of Lent. Can you feel the joy? As you came through those doors this morning, I asked many of you: “How are you?” And not one person responded, “Pastor, I’m joyful.” Why not? Is it because of some trouble in your personal life? Disillusionment with this fallen world? Pandemic fatigue? Are you just cranky because you were robbed of an hour of sleep last night? Whatever the reason, it’s good that you’re here, because today Jesus helps us find the joy in faith.

Jesus is talking to Nicodemus, a Pharisee and a member of the Jewish ruling council (John 3:1). Nicodemus had come to Jesus at night, probably out of fear of being associated with this man whom his colleagues despised and wanted to get rid of. Later, this same Nicodemus, along with Joseph of Arimathea, took upon themselves the privilege of taking Jesus’ dead body down from the cross and giving it a quick but proper burial (John 19:38-42). However, at this point, Nicodemus is still an unbeliever; curious and inquisitive – a “seeker” some might say today – but still an unbeliever. So, what subject do you think Jesus zeroed in on with unbelieving Nicodemus? Believing. Faith. Jesus refers to believing three times in our text – in verses 15, 16, and 18.

Jesus spells out the benefits of faith in him: never being condemned, never perishing and having eternal life. Seems to me that there’s a whole lot of joy to be found there, right? So what if our lives here are plagued by the threats of viruses and violence? By faith we possess a life that will not be plagued by threats of any kind (Revelation 21:22-27). So what if I can feel death’s cold grip on my body and see its dreadful symptoms in the mirror? Jesus says that through faith in him we will never perish. So what if my conscience or the devil himself accuse me of being beyond God’s love? Jesus says the one who believes in him is not condemned. What Jesus says is true. It’s true no matter what is going on in the world, in your life, or even in your own head or heart. Aren’t those rock-solid reasons to rejoice? Then why is joy such a rare and endangered species in the lives of many Christians; even in our own?

One big reason is that by nature, we give our personal faith too much credit; that is, we tend to think of faith as kind of the “finishing touch” of our salvation. Think of our first lesson, did you place the emphasis on the bronze snake or the necessity of looking to it to live (Numbers 21:4-9)? Or in verse 8 of our second lesson, which struck you as the key to salvation: it is by grace you have been saved or through faith (Ephesians 2:8). Even here in our Gospel lesson, did you focus on for God so loved the world or that whoever believes in him? In each passage, God is clearly telling us that he has provided completed salvation for his people. And yet, what’s often our takeaway? That God has simply made salvation possible for us; that it’s up to you to believe it. And what does that do? It makes faith a cause or source of our salvation.

Have you ever heard anyone say: “Jesus did it all. All you have to do is believe.” It sounds good, what’s the problem? The problem that it is a terrible mixture of Law and Gospel. “Jesus did it all,” is Gospel. “All you have to do is believe,” is Law (As is anything we have to do!). You see? Whenever you hear that faith is needed for your salvation, Jesus is no longer sufficient– you still need to do your part. In fact, it makes Jesus a liar. If your faith completes your salvation, then Jesus lied when he said it is finished (John 19:30). Sure, Jesus may have completed 99% of salvation for you; but you’ve got to provide that last 1% with faith.

And what happens when you’re faith has to fill in the gaps? Well, you’re left staring into the depths of your own heart to see whether or not you have this abstract, nebulous thing called faith glowing there. If you can see it, if you can feel it then you can conclude that you are saved. If you can’t see it, if you can’t feel it, well, then you can’t really be sure, can you? Do you really want to hang your salvation on your faith? Just consider how tenuous faith feels in the face of the realities of life. When the budget is tight – do you really trust that God will provide your daily bread? When you’ve treated your spouse like dirt or broken another promise to your children – do you really believe that you are forgiven? When the entire world out there has dismissed Christianity as a fairy tale – do you really believe that the word of the Lord endures forever (1 Peter 1:25)? When you’re standing at the grave of a loved one – do you really believe in the resurrection? In theory, faith is easy; in practice, there’s nothing harder. Our faith can’t stand up to the realities of life, much less death and hell.  

I understand that this may be shocking to many of you; that it challenges everything you’ve ever been taught about faith. If you grew up in a generic, Protestant church, you were either explicitly or implicitly led to believe that the faith in your heart is a cause of your salvation. (That’s why Evangelicals are fixated on “feeling” faith and your personal decision). If you come from a Reformed background, you were taught that Jesus only died for believers (Limited Atonement), so you have to do good works in order to “prove” your faith. You may have even gotten that impression if you’re a Lutheran – after all we place faith alone alongside Scripture alone and grace alone as the Reformation pillars on which we stand. But allow me to quote one of our American Lutheran forefathers, C. F. W. Walther, from his book The Proper Distinction Between Law and Gospel: “You may run through the whole Bible, and you will not find a single passage which states that man is justified on account of his faith. Wherever the relation of faith to justification is spoken of, terms are used which declare faith a means, not a cause.” (274)

Think about what you’re saying if you think you’re saved because you believe. Then your salvation isn’t hanging on the cross; your salvation hangs on how perfectly you fear, love and trust in God. Then the thin line that stands between you and eternal death is your faith – and you must spend every waking minute wondering if your faith is strong enough. That’s where Lent comes in. Lent provides an annual shock to our system which reminds us that Christianity is not about us; it’s about Christ. It reminds us that God urges us to look outward to Jesus, not inward to our faith for salvation. So where is your focus today? On your faith or the object of your faith?

Actually, you don’t have to answer that question, your behavior speaks for you. Those who focus on their own faith treat the means of grace kind of like they treat the Emergency Department: “I’ll go and get help when I’m really sick, when the over-the-counter drugs don’t work, when I’m really desperate. Otherwise, I’m fine on my own!” When we should really treat of the means of grace like we think of food, water and oxygen – “If I don’t get these, regularly, I’m dead!” Why? Because the means of grace: baptism, absolution and communion are the only places God has promised to offer his faith creating and sustaining grace and forgiveness. Now, admittedly, there’s not much to see here: some water, some words, some bread and wine – they’re about as unimpressive as a bronze snake on a pole. That’s why people who need to “feel” their faith focus on things that stimulate their emotions: sappy music, motivational sermons, creating an atmosphere that makes them “feel” close to Jesus. But feelings are a poor substitute for certainty.

The pandemic hasn’t been good for much – but it’s been great for sermon illustrations. Take the Covid-19 vaccine, for example. What role does faith play in getting vaccinated? At most, it determines whether you go and get it or not. But does your faith make it effective? Of course not! The efficacy of the vaccine doesn’t depend on you at all – it depends on the scientist who brewed it in a lab, on the technicians who stored it and the nurse who administered it. Your faith doesn’t give the vaccine its power. In fact, whether you believe in the vaccine or not is absolutely irrelevant – it’s either effective or not, regardless of what you believe. (And no, I’m not advocating for or against getting it.)

In the same way, the source, the power, the cause, the efficacy of salvation is not your faith. I’ll repeat. The source of your salvation is not your faith. Listen again to Ephesians 2:8, with the emphasis in the proper place: it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God (Ephesians 2:8). Faith is the conduit for, not the source of your salvation. In other words, even while Jesus is emphasizing faith here to Nicodemus, he’s not directing his attention to his own heart, but to God’s. Isn’t that the logical progression of John 3:16? God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life. Who’s the subject of that sentence? God; not you. God sent his Son to live a perfect life and die on the cross for your sins and rise again for your justification – apart from yours or mine or anyone else’s faith. Your salvation was completed long before you could ever make a decision for Jesus, “feel” faith in your heart – long before you were even conceived and born. And that, dear friends, is what makes it certain.

When you know that what you believe is certain; you don’t have to focus on your believing. That would be as foolish as someone claiming to be immune to Covid because they believe it is effective – without ever have gotten the shot. People who understand that faith is the “open hand” which receives completed salvation focus instead on Jesus. How? By focusing on where Jesus has promised to be: where people have gathered in his name (Matthew 18:20), around Word and Sacrament. They don’t gather around things that make them “feel” good; they gather around the means through which Jesus promises to come to them. Sometimes they feel great about their faith, sometimes they don’t, but it doesn’t matter. Because whenever God’s Word is preached and his Sacraments are properly administered, Jesus, the “source” of salvation, is there for you, personally, whether you “feel” it or not.

Our focus needs to be outward – on Jesus, not inward – on ourselves. Because you know as well as I do that there are times in life when you look for faith and all you see is doubt; when you want to trust but all you do is worry; when you long for joy and all you feel is fear. The only hope, the only cure at these times is outside of you: it’s in Jesus. He says that he joined you to himself in Baptism (Romans 6:3-5), so he’s there with you, even if you can’t feel it. He says that whoever hears the words of his disciples hear him, so Jesus is there speaking in the Absolution even though you can’t see him (Luke 10:16). And, he says that Holy Communion is his body and his blood, and that remains true whether you see (or believe) it or not (Matthew 26:26-28). Through these means God really gives his free, unconditional gift of salvation – whether you feel it or not.

See? There is a good reason to rejoice in Lent – because Lent shows us the joy of faith. Not in your believing – because your believing, like mine, is as unpredictable and erratic as the weather. But what you believe – that God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life – that’s not going anywhere. That’s certain. And where there’s certainty, there’s certainly reason to rejoice. Amen.  

Matthew 23:1-12 - Significant Teaching - March 10, 2021

We’ve all heard the saying “You are what you eat.” If you eat cream-puffs all day, you can be sure that you’ll end up looking like a cream-puff. Well, no disrespect to nutritionists, but while it’s certainly important to monitor what you are consuming with your mouth – it’s ultimately more important to monitor what you are consuming with your eyes and ears (Matthew 15:1-20). To modify the saying: “you are what – or who – you listen to.” Oh sure, we like to imagine that we are all perfectly impartial and independent thinkers – we’re not. What we are is a diverse stew of the messages and media, the stories and music and movies we consume. We are always consuming, always learning and therefore we need to be careful who our teachers are. Some are good and some are bad. Some we should avoid and some we should imitate. In our text for this evening, Jesus, the one Teacher, helps us differentiate between the two.

It’s Tuesday of Holy Week, just three days before Jesus is arrested, tried, convicted, tortured, crucified and buried. He chooses this moment to draw the attention of his listeners to the experts in the law and the Pharisees [who] sit in Moses’ seat. While the Old Testament doesn’t contain any details about anything specifically called “Moses’ seat,” it seems to simply be a reference to holding an office of teaching authority in the synagogue.

Jesus says regarding these teachers: Practice and observe whatever they tell you. But do not do as they do, because they do not practice what they preach. Jesus isn’t pulling any punches, is he? “Do what they say, not what they do.” As long as the teachers were simply reading and properly interpreting the Word of God, Jesus encourages them to listen carefully. But Jesus also makes clear that the application and the resulting behavior of these teachers didn’t align with the Word of God. In other words, they read one thing from the Scriptures, but the application they made in their sermons and their behavior outside of the synagogue didn’t line up with the Scriptures. There’s a term for this; it’s call hypocrisy. And where you have hypocrisy you almost always find self-righteousness. We’ve seen this in recent months when government officials who commanded average citizens to stay locked in their homes and not celebrate holidays with family were exposed as traveling internationally and celebrating holidays with their families.

Jesus goes on to describe some of their hypocritical practices: First, they tie up heavy loads, burdens that are hard to carry, and place them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to help them. What does that mean? Well, sadly, many Christians today know and experience exactly what Jesus is describing. The Pharisees piled 613 commandments on top of the 10 God had given – today teachers pile the 10 steps to a better marriage or the 5 steps to raising decent children on their listeners. The Pharisees elevated the actions of humans over the actions of God (Matthew 23:13-39; Mark 7:1-23) – today many teachers suggest that your decision, your response, your behavior is more important than what God has done for you. Worst of all, having burdened the people with law after law, they didn’t lift a finger to help them, that is, they didn’t preach the Gospel that God had promised to send a Savior to rescue them from the unbearable burden of the law. They never once said: come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me…for my yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matthew 11:28-30).   

Second, they do all their works to be seen by people. They were 1st century virtue-signalers. Third, they make their phylacteries wide and lengthen the fringes of their garments. A phylactery was a small leather box containing quotations from Exodus or Deuteronomy. They were tied around a person’s forehead or arms. The fringes were blue strands that attached to the corners of their garments to remind them of the Ten Commandments. Because these customs had their origin in God’s Word (Numbers 15:37-41; Deuteronomy 6:8) there was nothing inherently wrong with them. What was wrong was that they made their phylacteries wide and their fringes long. In other words, they did it to draw attention to themselves. They wanted to be seen as superior to your average Jew. Fourth, they love the place of honor at feasts, the best seats in the synagogues. (Which was one of the reasons they despised Jesus – Jesus sat and ate with tax collectors and sinners (Matthew 9:9-13).) Fifth, they love…the greetings in the marketplaces, and being called ‘Rabbi” by people. Apparently ours isn’t the only era of “celebrity pastors.”  

Do not do as they do, Jesus says. But Jesus isn’t just hurling stones of criticism at his enemies here; in fact, he’s not even talking to the experts in the law or the Pharisees, he’s talking to his disciples. He’s warning his disciples because he knows that hypocrisy and pride are a temptation for anyone and everyone. Pride is a result of the sinful nature we’re born with. If you have any doubt at all that this is a natural human tendency, just spend five minutes on Facebook and see how many people promote how cute their children or dogs are, how great their craft or cooking skills are, how wonderful their vacations are – pride and self-promotion are everywhere. In fact, there’s a brand new line of work known as “social influencing” that consists of nothing but promoting yourself and your talents and your tastes to the world on social media.

Pride is not surprising when we see it in the world. But it’s sad when we see it in the church – because we, of all people, should know better. “How do we do this?” We work on a project here at church and nobody notices or nobody gives us any praise. So we throw a tantrum and vow to never volunteer again. Others get their names in the bulletin for the things they’ve done and we resent them because we haven’t gotten that recognition. We calculate how often we’re in church and Bible class and volunteering for various duties at church against others and we deem ourselves worthy of more and better blessings from God. At the root of all of those attitudes is hypocritical pride. We mistakenly think we deserve better than others because of what we do. “Well, pastor, that’s the way the world works. What’s the problem?” The problem is that when God looks at us he sees that there is no difference, because all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus (Romans 3:22-24). That’s the greatest danger of proudly exalting ourselves over others – if I’m so busy comparing myself against others, who am I not looking to? Jesus! Those are attitudes Jesus tells us to avoid – in order to save us from ourselves.

Do not do as they do. So what should we do instead? You are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have one Teacher, and you are all brothers. Also do not call anyone on earth your ‘Father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. And you are not to be called ‘leaders,’ for you have one Leader, the Christ. But the greatest among you will be your servant. Jesus isn’t literally forbidding the use of these terms. What he’s saying is that since we are all equal before God (Galatians 3:28), no one should exalt themselves above others. Instead, the greatest in God’s kingdom are those who serve others. So here’s the question: why should we listen to Jesus? What makes him any different than the experts in the law and the Pharisees?

Remember, Jesus spoke these words on Tuesday of Holy Week – just three days before he would be falsely arrested, wrongly accused, illegally tortured, and unjustly crucified. Jesus has spent three years proving, by his behavior, by his preaching, by his miracles who he really is: the Christ, the Son of God. He proved himself as the one who is actually deserving of all glory, honor, and worship. And yet, as Paul says: though he was by nature God, he did not consider equality with God as a prize to be displayed, but he emptied himself by taking the nature of a servant…he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross (Philippians 2:6-8). Jesus is the only speaker, leader, preacher, pastor, teacher who ever not only said all the right things but did all the right things. He spent his life serving others in word and action, ultimately by serving up his life as the ransom for our lives (Matthew 20:28). By his humble life and his innocent death he has earned our attention, he has proven that he is the only one worthy of imitation.

Impossible, right? How can we possibly imitate Jesus’ humility and service, he’s the sinless Son of God? We can’t. By nature we are turned in on ourselves – always looking to place ourselves above everyone else. For us, pride and self-righteousness and hypocrisy aren’t just bad attitudes to be on the lookout for, they are hardwired into our very nature. From the cradle to the grave we are wired to believe that if we can just prove ourselves better than others that we can gain God’s favor. So what can we do about this genetic disease? There’s only one thing we can do: own it, confess it, repent of it – and look to Jesus to forgive the burden of our sin.

The good news is that Jesus’ death on a cross covers all our sin – even our own misguided pride and hypocrisy. The slate has been wiped clean – even if your Facebook page hasn’t been – so that no sin or guilt remain. Because of Jesus, God has removed them as [far] as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). The one who humbled himself by climbing down from heaven, into a virgin’s womb, and up onto a cross has cleansed us from our sins of arrogance and pride – so that after we have been humbled in repentance, he will exalt us through his forgiveness.

It’s always been true, but even more so in recent years that you must be very careful of who and what you consume with your eyes and your ears. Yes, you don’t want to get drawn into the “fake news” trap. But even more importantly, you don’t want to listen to anyone who makes it seem like your status before God relies on you and your behavior. Instead, listen to Jesus. He humbled himself to the point of death so that we might be exalted to eternal life. We shouldn’t only listen to him and imitate him but, when we fail, we should unload the burden of our sin and guilt on him to be forgiven. To him, and him alone, be the glory. Amen.

John 2:13-22 - Turning the Tables - March 7, 2021

Given that there’s been basically nothing to do for the past year, many people have turned to television and movies for a distraction from the doldrums of pandemic life. I’ll admit, I’m no exception. But what I discovered about my taste for entertainment is that I can’t stand predictable storylines. They’re not worth my time. I prefer the shows where things aren’t what they appear to be; where the bad guys turn out to be good and the good guys turn out to be bad; where what seemed to happen didn’t really happen at all. I promise I am not launching a sermon series based on a TV or movie series. I only bring it up because the text before us is a lot like those shows: in the end everything gets turned upside down.

This is a different situation than the one we considered two Wednesdays ago. This one takes place near the beginning of his ministry. Jesus goes into the most holy city on earth, Jerusalem; into the most holy building in that city, the temple; during the most holy time of the year, Passover; and he trashes the place. He turns over the tables of the vendors and money-changers providing the necessities for the celebration of the Passover. The Jewish leaders were understandably upset – they didn’t think the tables needed turning over. They saw it as a pragmatic, convenient and profitable practice. Where else could the pilgrims who had traveled so far purchase the sacrificial animals they needed for the Passover? Can you imagine trying to haul a bull or a lamb dozens or hundreds of miles from your home to Jerusalem? It could run off or be stolen or get sick on the way. Or the priest might tell you once you got it to the temple that it was unacceptable for sacrifice. They saw the buying and selling as a necessary convenience – as well as the money changing. The temple tax had to be paid in a specific type of shekel that was minted only in Jerusalem – therefore, pilgrims who had come from any distance were unlikely to have them on hand. It all seemed pretty innocuous and, well, necessary. How else could the Jewish pilgrims pay the temple tax? Why shouldn’t they be able to change their money – for a fee, of course – and purchase their sacrificial animals – at a premium – all in one place? It was all very convenient for the worshipers and very profitable for the priests.

The whole arrangement was just fine with everyone until Jesus showed up. He made it clear that everything wasn’t just fine. He wasn’t buying the convenience argument. Since when was worship supposed to be convenient? Since when was it supposed to be easy? Since when was the worship of the Lord supposed to be something that didn’t interfere with the rest of your life? Nor was Jesus buying the argument that this was how the priests received their livelihoods and provided for the upkeep of the temple. Is this how God had revealed that his temple and his ministers were be provided for? Were they supposed to turn the church into a for-profit business? Were they supposed to profit from selling things that were necessary for worship? No, the Lord’s temple and his ministers were to be provided for out of the fruit that the Word of God produced, then and now (Leviticus 7:28-36; 1 Corinthians 9:14).

Would you believe that this wasn’t the worst thing Jesus found in the temple that day? As corrupt and immoral as the business dealing in the temple courts was, the worst thing was that it interfered with the temple’s primary purpose. God’s house was to be a place of prayer for all nations (Isaiah 56:7). The animals, with their braying and baaing, their stink and their flies and their manure, were being bought and sold in the court that had been set aside for the Gentile converts to pray and worship. The money-changers with their clinking coins and bickering about exchange rates made the Gentile place of prayer anything but peaceful.

So Jesus turned the tables on those who had turned his Father’s house into a farmer’s market. Yes, the church leaders might have thought it was a great idea, but Jesus showed them what God thought of it. And he didn’t do it gently. He made a whip out of the short ropes used to tether animals and drove them all out of the temple. The original Greek makes clear that he didn’t just use the whip on the animals but on the people buying, selling, and exchanging money. Jesus wasn’t kind; he wasn’t polite. He didn’t say “Please gather up your things and head for the nearest exit.” No, he bellowed get these things out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a place of business!

It just makes you want to cheer, doesn’t it? It makes you long for this kind of Jesus to show up today, doesn’t it? Don’t you want Jesus to storm into the many “progressive” churches and shout, “How dare you turn my Father’s house into a haven for homosexuality?” Don’t you want Jesus to rush into the mega-churches that have turned God’s work into big business – with pastors and board members becoming wealthy by fleecing the flock and shout: “How dare you use my Word and my flock to enrich yourselves”? Don’t you want a Jesus who gives a voice and a fist to the outrage you feel toward the churches that safeguard sin and turn God’s house into a business? “Yes! Finally! Go get’em Jesus!”

Don’t grab the popcorn just yet. Contrary to popular opinion, confessional Lutheranism is not primarily about pointing out the specks in the eyes of the world or even of heterodox – that is, false-teaching – churches. No, before we can even think of judging others, we need to see the planks that stick out of our own eyes (Matthew 7:1-5). Are there tables in your own life that Jesus could turn over? Are there things in your heart and mind that should be drive out? Are there things and behaviors in your own life that Jesus could take a whip to? Before we get too excited about Jesus turning over the tables out there, we better check our own tables.

“No, pastor, you’re preaching to the choir here. We have the pure gospel in Word and Sacrament. We don’t safeguard sin or turn God’s house into a farmer’s market.” Here’s the thing: God is just as interested in what’s going on in his dwelling place in our hearts as he is with what happens here in his house. In fact, we are temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 3:16). You heard the 10 commandments from Exodus 20; how long did it take for you to be convicted? How about the 1st commandment? Martin Luther explains that we should fear, love and trust in God above all things. Fear? A whole lot of people seem to fear viruses and being shamed on social media and losing their jobs than they do God today – are you one of them? Trust? Do you worry…about anything? That’s not trust. Love? Show me your calendar and your bank statement, and I’m pretty sure I can tell what you love, after all, Jesus said where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:21).

And that’s just the 1st commandment. What about our worship lives? Are they God-pleasing? The Jews thought their worship was pleasing to God. And Jesus trashed it. If Jesus walked into the temple of your heart, what would he find there that would need to be driven out? We may publicly confess that we believe that God’s Word – and the Lutheran Confession of what it means – is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth; but in how many areas do we really think – “yeah, that’s what my church says, but I don’t really believe it”? How many of us pray “thy will be done” in here but once we’re out those doors we are only interested in doing our own will? How many of us have rationalized and minimized the sins in our own lives because we can see so many other people committing so many more and so many worse sins? How many times do we worship God with our lips while are hearts are far from him (Isaiah 29:13)? We may think that our hearts and our lives are acceptable to God – but Jesus shows us the truth: they’re not. We are not acceptable to God as we are – no matter what we may delude ourselves into thinking.

It kind of makes you want to run away – like those vendors and money-changers – and never come back, doesn’t it? Why should I come here to have my life, my thoughts, my words, my actions trashed? I’ll admit, as I wrote this sermon, I was thinking: “who am I to stand up here and say these things to anyone? I need to have these things said to me! I’d be better off resigning than preaching this to anyone.” But then I remembered that this text is like those shows where everything is not what it seems. Where Jesus turns the tables not once, but twice.

Jesus wasn’t just posturing, he wasn’t just virtue signaling by his actions in the temple that day. He was deadly serious. The penalty for defiling God’s house was death (Acts 21:28). The penalty for just going through the motions of worship – that is, hypocrisy – was damnation (Matthew 7:21-23). But not a single vendor died that day even though they were guilty of defiling God’s house. Not a single banker was damned in spite of their hypocrisy. I didn’t have a heart-attack while I was writing this sermon – even though it’s what I deserved. Not one of you has dropped dead for allowing your mind to wander while God’s Word was being preached. Not one of us has gone to hell because we stepped forward to receive the body and blood of our Lord Jesus with only pretend repentance – fully intending to continue going about our lives of sin. That’s because the tables were turned on Jesus.

When the tables were turned on Jesus, when he went from beloved Son (Mark 9:7) to wretched sinner (Psalm 22:1-2), it was not gentle or tender. Jesus did not have a whip made of small ropes applied to his back; he had a long, leather one embedded with flesh-shredding shards of metal or stone. Jesus did not have the opportunity to turn over his tables and pour out his sin in confession for forgiveness. No, he had all of our sins dumped on him and was forced to spill his holy, precious blood to pay for them (1 Peter 1:18-19). Jesus wasn’t just threatened with the Law; no, the full punishments of the Law were brought down on him like a sledgehammer until he cried out my God, my God, why have you forsaken me (Mark 15:34) and broke down and died.

The tables are turned during Lent. The holy, righteous Son of God is treated like the worst sinner on earth; guilty sinners like us are treated as the righteous, holy sons and daughters of God. Jesus got what we deserve; we get what he deserves. Jesus is driven out of God’s house to die; we are invited into God’s house to find life. We should come to church expecting to get a tongue-lashing for our sins. Instead, for Jesus’ sake, we’re told that we have been forgiven. We should come to the baptismal font expecting to be drowned. Instead, for Jesus’ sake, our sins are drowned and we are given new life. We should come to Communion expecting to be poisoned for the sins we’ve committed this week. Instead, Jesus gives us his body and blood as the life-giving food of immortality. We should expect to walk out those doors under God’s curse. Instead, because Jesus was cursed in our place, we walk out with God’s blessing.

This is Lent. Lent is where things aren’t really as they seem; where the tables are turned. In Lent Jesus comes into our comfortable, convenient lives and turns over the tables to show us that we aren’t as good, as acceptable to God as we think we are – to lead us to repentance. But once Jesus has flipped over our tables he invites us to come back to see and believe that the tables have been turned again. Jesus has gone to the cross to suffer the punishment we deserved while we come here to receive all of the grace, mercy and love that he earned. Because Jesus has both turned the tables on us and for us, we can be certain that we have a place at God’s table in heaven. That’s why Lent is a show worth watching. Amen.

Mark 12:28-37 - Significant Questions - March 3, 2021

Questions. They’re a big part of our everyday lives. Many of them aren’t all that important: “What’s for dinner?” “Did you check the laundry?” “Did you see the game last night?” And yet, there are those times in life when the questions we ask – and their answers – can be life-changing: “Did you get the job?” “Is the cancer in remission?” “Will you marry me?” Tonight, however, we aren’t focused on either of those categories of questions – either the unimportant or the life-changing. No, tonight we’re focused on two questions of eternal significance, one asked to Jesus and one asked by Jesus.

Just before our text, Jesus had been involved in a discussion with the Sadducees, the elites of the Jewish clergy, whose most notable belief was that they rejected the resurrection of the dead (which, if you ask me, makes religion kind of pointless) (Mark 12:18-27). As Mark tells us, one of the experts in the law approached after he heard their discussion. Apparently, he was impressed by Jesus’ answers and decided to pose a question of his own. Before we get to his question, however, we should come to a better understanding of what an expert in the law was. Experts in the law were responsible for two things: 1) making copies of the original manuscripts of the OT Scriptures – as well as other writings of the rabbis; and 2) interpreting these words for the people, who were, by and large, illiterate. Sounds like a pretty straight-forward job, right? Study the Word of God and teach and preach it. However, the experts in the law had made their job far more difficult than it needed to be by dividing God’s Law into 613 commandments, known as the mitzvoth. Instead of simply repeating God’s Word, the experts in the law endlessly debated which of these 613 commandments was most important. And, unfortunately, like today’s Supreme Court justices, these experts often referred to the precedent, the opinions, of other rabbis rather than the written Word of God. Therefore, this expert in the law was most likely just searching for another opinion, another precedent, another interpretation to refer to in his own work.

But, in spite of that baggage, he asks a good question: which commandment is the greatest of all? Jesus gives a two-part answer: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord, our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ Jesus answers him with a verse this expert undoubtedly knew very well, it was the most basic Jewish confession of faith, from Deuteronomy 6. Do you know what’s most interesting about Jesus’ answer? He doesn’t begin by directly addressing the expert’s question, that is, what we should or should not do. No, he begins with the identity of the one, true God: The Lord, our God, the Lord is one. Why start here? Because if, as Paul says in Romans 13, love is the fulfillment of the law (Romans 13:10), then your love had better be directed to and directed by the one, true God! He’s making the point that if your love is not directed at and by the one, true God, then whatever love or worship you are showing is utterly worthless. (This is extremely relevant to our world today, where many wicked behaviors and beliefs are defended and justified under the blanket of “love.”) The one, true God is the only God we should love with all our hearts, souls, minds and strength – anything else is idolatry.

Then Jesus expands, going beyond the teacher in the law’s question: the second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these. Here again, Jesus is quoting directly from the Old Testament, specifically, Leviticus 19:18. Why include the second table of the Law – that is, commandments 4-10? Because love for God and love for neighbor can never be separated. The Apostle John writes: if anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar (1 John 4:20).

As the expert recognized, Jesus is right. These are the greatest commandments because if you do them, you will live (Leviticus 18:5; Luke 10:28)! If you fear, love, and trust in God above all things; if you never use God’s name to curse or swear and instead use it to regularly pray, praise and give thanks; if you always – daily and weekly – gladly hear and study God’s Word. If you always honor your mother and father – not to mention your pastor, governor and president; if you not only never commit murder but you never lose your temper; if you keep both your body and your thoughts free from lust; if you never steal – not by “massaging” your taxes or by skimming time from your employer; if you never gossip on social media to do anything to hurt anyone’s reputation; if you never have a sinful desire for something God has given to someone else – then you can punch your own ticket to heaven. So there you have it; there is Jesus’ perfect answer to the question of the expert in the law: which commandment is the greatest of all?: love the Lord your God with all you have and love your neighbor as yourself.

The expert in the law commended Jesus on his answer: well said, teacher. But Jesus’ closing words are curious, aren’t they? The lawyer agreed with him, then why does he tell him you are not far from the kingdom of God? What’s getting in the way? Two things. First, instead of simply patronizing Jesus by complimenting his wise answer – he should have fallen down on his knees and confessed: I haven’t and I can’t do these things and asked – “how then can I be saved?” Secondly, he didn’t yet recognize that Jesus is the Messiah, the only one who could save him from his sins against God’s Law. In other words, the expert in the law had a totally backwards understanding of how a person gains access to God’s kingdom. This man, and, sadly, most people believe that a relationship with God is based on our doing something for him – when the reality is that the only way we can have a relationship with God is by him doing everything for us! This is called divine Monergism – that God alone must do everything for our salvation.

In other words, while these two commandments are great, they’re not good; that is, they’re not good news. It’s one thing to know God’s will. It’s a completely different thing to do it. And I can state with absolute certainty that none of us here – myself included – have kept either of the two tables of God’s law perfectly. That’s why even having a clear understanding of what the greatest commandment of all is, is not gospel – because it will never help you get to heaven (Romans 3:20; Galatians 2:16).

So where’s the good news to be found in this text if it’s not found in Jesus’ answer? In the one giving the answer…in Jesus. The good news is that the one who gave this answer to the expert in the law is the one, true God. He is the one who came to do what we could never do. He came to keep God’s law – both the first and second tables of the Law – perfectly. He alone loved God with all his heart and soul and mind and strength. He alone loved his neighbor as himself. In fact, in regard to both, he most fully loved God and his neighbors (including us) by giving up his life on the cross. In that one act Jesus showed perfect love to God by submitting his will fully to his Father’s will and he loved us even more than he loved himself, by laying down his life for our sins (John 15:13)! And because of that one act, you and I now possess perfect righteousness before God in regard to both tables of God’s law. Jesus’ righteousness has become ours (2 Corinthians 5:21). And believing this good news – and not obeying or doing anything – is the only thing that can bring sinners like us into the kingdom of God.

But now Jesus has a significant question of his own; a question that gets to the heart of the issue that enraged Jesus’ opponents and led directly to his crucifixion: How is it that the experts in the law say that the Christ is the Son of David? David himself said by the Holy Spirit: the Lord said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies a footstool under your feet.’ Like many lawyers today, the experts in the law were expert at quoting Scripture – but because of their unbelief, they were blind to the fact that the Christ had to be both true God and true man. They would agree that the Messiah was the Son of David – that is, true man – but they believed that he would come to set up an earthly, not a spiritual kingdom. However, rather than giving them the answer, Jesus asks leaves them hanging with a question, David himself calls him Lord, so how can he be his Son?

There is only one answer to this question, and the answer was standing right in front of the crowd in the temple on Tuesday of Holy Week. The only logical answer is that the Christ had to be both true God and true man. The only logical answer is that Jesus is the Christ. His humanity was obvious to the so-called experts – but so was his divinity. He proved all throughout his ministry that he was divine. He is the one who was there at the creation of the world and with God and was with God in every way (John 1:1-4). He is the one who was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. He is the one who commanded the wind and the waves to be quiet, and they listened (Mark 4:35-41). He is the one who healed all types of physical diseases and problems, removing them instantly – as if they never existed (Mark 3:1-11). He is the one who demonstrated his power over life and death by raising three people from death to life (that we know of!) (Luke 7:11-17; Luke 8:49-56; John 11:1-44). And, as we will celebrate in a few weeks, he is the one whom death and the grave could not hold. He was and is David’s Son and David’s Lord. He is the one, true God come to earth to singlehandedly save his people from their sins. It’s no wonder the crowd was delighted, is it?

Tuesday of Holy Week presents us with two eternally significant questions: which commandment is the greatest of all? And David calls [the Christ his] Lord, so how can he be his son? In reality, the greatest commandment of all isn’t any of the ten commandments, the greatest commandment of all is that we believe in the name of [God’s] Son, Jesus Christ (1 John 3:23). Only through faith in Jesus, who is true God and true man, David’s Son and David’s Lord can anyone enter the kingdom of God. Which just goes to show us once again that Jesus is the answer to all of our most significant questions. Amen.   

Mark 8:31-38 - The Peter Principle - February 28, 2021

In 1969 an author by the name of Laurence J. Peter developed what is known as the Peter Principle. This principle asserted that in any organization employees tend to rise through the ranks until they reach the level of their incompetence – that is, to the point when their talents and skills are no longer sufficient for the job. [1] Today, we observe the Peter Principle at work in none other than the apostle Peter himself.

So what do we see in Peter today: competence or incompetence? Well, both. Right before our text, in response to Jesus’ question who do you say I am? (Mark 8:29) Peter was the only disciple who answered without hesitation, you are the Christ, the Son of the living God (Matthew 16:16). That’s Christian competence at its highest – confessing that this humble carpenter’s Son from Nazareth is truly the promised Savior, the Son of God. But the moment Jesus began to speak plainly about what it meant to be the Christ: rejection, suffering and dying – Peter revealed his incompetence. He dared to rebuke Jesus!

For that reason, Peter often becomes something of a whipping boy during Lent. He’s trotted out as the bad disciple, the weak disciple, the cowardly disciple, the denying disciple. You’re told to see how awful Peter is; to repent of being a Peter; to give thanks that Jesus redeemed you from being a Peter. That’s the typical Lenten Peter Principle, but today, at least at first, we’re going to prove that part wrong; that Peter really displays that he is more competent to be a disciple of Jesus than we often are.

Peter, at least, listens carefully to the words of Jesus. Even though Jesus says if you remain in my word, you are really my disciples (John 8:31), how well do we really know our Bibles? Can we recite the 10 commandments? The books of the Bible? How carefully do we listen when God’s Word is preached? If I were to ask you tomorrow what today’s sermon was about, would you have an answer? Luther picked up on this all-too-common Christian incompetence in his commentary on the 3rd Commandment in the Large Catechism. He criticized those who “listen to God’s Word like it was any other trifle and only come to preaching because of custom. They go away again, and at the end of the year they know as little of God’s Word as at the beginning” (LC 3rd Commandment: 96). This is the sin of indifference. It’s the sin of thinking that you’ve done your duty as long as you sit here for an hour a week. Never mind that you don’t really listen; never mind that your mind begins wandering the moment you sit down. You think you’ve done what God wants just by being present where God’s Word is read and proclaimed. But faith doesn’t come by proximity but by hearing (Romans 10:17). At least Peter listened to Jesus’ words. You can tell how closely he listened by his reaction. Sure, it was the wrong reaction, but a wrong reaction is better than no reaction – it’s better than letting the Gospel go in one ear and out the other (Revelation 3:16).

Before we tie Peter to the whipping post this Lent for daring to rebuke Jesus, for tempting him to walk away from the cross, let’s at least admit that Peter takes the horror of the cross seriously. Peter is utterly appalled that the Christ, the Messiah the church had waited thousands of years for, would be crucified by the very leaders of the church he came to save. Peter could possibly understand the elders, the chief priests, the experts in the law grumbling about Jesus the way their fathers grumbled about Moses (Exodus 16:2), but for them to succeed in murdering him – no, that was too much! The thought of Jesus being nailed to a tree, hanging there slowly bleeding out and suffocating until he died, was too much for Peter to stomach because Peter took those words seriously. How about us?

As Lutherans, we’re kind of spoiled. The cross is everywhere in our worship: it’s in our architecture, in our hymns and liturgies, it’s in the creeds we confess together and front and center in the sermons we hear. And what’s our reaction to this regular diet of Jesus’ rejection, suffering and crucifixion? I’ll confess that, for myself at least, my reaction was often: “Meh. Been here, heard this.” We know we’re supposed to take our Savior’s suffering seriously, but do we? If you’ve seen Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, you may have for a couple of hours had an actual, visceral reaction to Jesus’ suffering and death. I’ve talked to grown men who said that they walked out of that movie with tears running down their faces. But what happens the second, the third, the fourth time you see it? The reaction is dulled. “Been here, seen this.” That’s why one confessional Lutheran pastor called that movie “spiritual pornography.” And the same thing can happen here. Week after week we hear about how Jesus, the Christ, was rejected by the church, humiliated by the church, and executed in the most excruciating manner possible – and it can become old news. “Yeah, yeah, we know all that. Tell us something we don’t know; make us feel something I haven’t felt; surprise us; entertain us.”

For all that Peter does wrong, at least he understands the injustice of it all. He knows that Jesus doesn’t deserve what he says will happen to him. Peter has lived with Jesus for three years. He knows this man. He knows that Jesus never spoke an evil word about anyone, and that he not only never hurt anyone, but he healed and helped many. And that’s really why Peter dares to rebuke Jesus. He knows that neither the church nor the government have a legitimate case against him. He’s competent enough to understand that it would be nothing less than the greatest crime in human history for the church and the government to collude to execute the Christ, the Son of the living God (Matthew 16:16).

How about you? Is your reaction ever: “Why should I be shocked, this is what’s supposed to happen. This is what the prophets said must happen (Isaiah 53). It’s Jesus’ job to die for us.” It’s not that we’re too competent in our faith to rebuke Jesus; no, it’s that we take it for granted that Jesus should suffer and die for us. You don’t rebuke birds for flying or fish for swimming – why should we rebuke Jesus to saying that he is going to do what we expect him to? How would you react if your own child enlisted in the military and was killed in battle and someone said – “Why are you so shocked? Isn’t that what they signed up for?”

I think I’ve got your attention now. I think I can actually hear the contrition and repentance rising from your hearts. Now you’ll listen to Jesus’ words; now you’ll take his suffering seriously; now you’ll confess that Jesus didn’t deserve to die. Be careful! You know where this path leads, don’t you? Right where it took Peter, from competence to incompetence. Yes, Peter was competent enough to actually listen to Jesus’ words; he was competent enough to be horrified at the thought of Jesus’ crucifixion; he was competent enough to know that Jesus didn’t deserve to die; but he reveals his incompetence in failing to understand the bigger picture, the things of God, why Jesus had to suffer and die.

Peter listened Jesus’ words, but he didn’t receive them as divine necessity. To Peter, Jesus was just being a ‘negative Nancy,’ looking at the glass as half-empty rather than half-full. Jesus was trying to prepare Peter for what he would certainly experience, but Peter preferred to hold out hope that there might be another, easier way. He reacted like we often do to the serious warnings the Bible gives us about what it means to follow [Jesus]. The Bible gives these guarantees: we must go through many troubles on our way to the kingdom of God (Acts 14:22); everyone who wants to live a godly life will be persecuted (2 Timothy 3:12); and dear friends, do not be surprised by the fiery trial that is happening among you to test you, as if something strange were happening to you (1 Peter 4:12). And yet how do we react to these guarantees; especially in the relative religious freedom we enjoy in America? We are surprised – and sometimes angry at God – when the very things he said would happen do happen.

Peter heard Jesus’ prediction of the cross as horrible but not as reality. For that reason, he couldn’t see the resurrection as a reality either. He couldn’t see the glory of Easter’s crown hidden behind the gore of Calvary’s cross. The awful thought of Jesus being rejected and executed was all that he could see. To Peter, Jesus’ cross was especially horrible because, without Easter, it seemed so meaningless.

Are we any different? Don’t we often regard the crosses we carry as pointless and meaningless? The crosses we carry in our vocations as sons and daughters and mothers and fathers and husbands and wives; the crosses of intolerance and ridicule and persecution. Don’t those crosses often seem so meaningless – that they are just getting in the way of living life to the fullest? In Peter’s mind the rejection, suffering, and dying that Jesus spoke about could only get in the way of Jesus truly being the Christ, the Son of the living God. The truth is that these things are precisely what it meant to be the Christ, the Son of the living God. In the same way, the crosses we bear are not things that get in the way of living life – they are the very essence of what it means to live as Christians.

But we’ll never see that until the Holy Spirit opens our eyes to see what Peter couldn’t. As Jesus noted, Peter’s concern was limited to this life, to the things of men. He could only see how meaningless it would be for Jesus to be rejected, suffer and die. “Couldn’t Jesus do so much more good alive than dead?” What Peter didn’t see is why Jesus had to suffer and die. This wasn’t some tragic accident; this was God’s eternal plan. Jesus was going to suffer for Peter, for me and for you and for the world (Matthew 20:28). What Peter couldn’t see is that from God’s point of view, if we were to be saved from the eternal damnation we deserved – Jesus was going to have to endure it in our place. We necessitated Jesus’ cross. Therefore, the good news of the cross is, as the banner says the punishment that brought us peace was upon him (Isaiah 53:5). This is what Peter didn’t understand. But if you take nothing else away from this sermon, I hope you take this: the shame Jesus endured at the hands of men means that I no longer have to be ashamed for all of the shameful thoughts that have passed through my mind. The torture that Jesus endured means that I won’t have to endure the never-ending torture of hell for the times that I have tortured the people I’m supposed to love. The death Jesus endured means that I won’t ever really die – that is, I will never, ever be separated from God in this life or the next. That’s what Jesus wants Peter and us to see in his cross. From that perspective, Jesus’ cross doesn’t look so meaningless, does it?

And…neither do our crosses. Eventually, Peter saw this too. Today, Peter was repulsed by the cross. During Holy Week he denied and ran away from the cross (Matthew 26:69-75). But many years later, he embraced the cross. He wrote rejoice whenever you are sharing in the sufferings of Christ (1 Peter 4:13). Why? Why in the world should we rejoice when we suffer for following Jesus? Because our suffering, our crosses are no less meaningful and purposeful than Jesus’ suffering and his cross. Jesus was rejected, he suffered, he was killed in order to rescue us from sin, death and the devil. We face suffering and trials and pain because we’ve been rescued from sin, death, and the devil. This means that the pain, the suffering, the crosses you and I carry during this life are anything but meaningless and pointless; they are proof positive that we are Jesus’ brothers and sisters and beloved children of God. They also serve as the guardrails God uses to keep our focus on Christ and his cross and on the narrow road to heaven (Matthew 7:13-14). Think of it this way: when is your mind more on the things of God – on Christ and his cross and the salvation he won – when life is great or when its terrible? If God uses our suffering, our crosses to keep us close to himself – that’s not meaningless at all, is it?

Does this clarification make it any easier to embrace the cross of suffering in this life? Probably not. That’s because of the Peter Principle – we’ve reached the point where we’re in over our heads. No Christian can fully comprehend how God uses the cross for our good. That’s why we don’t fix our eyes on the things of men, our own crosses; but on the things of God, on Jesus and his cross, where through the greatest evil ever perpetrated by mankind God orchestrated the greatest good of all: our salvation. Amen.  

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_principle

Mark 11:15-19 - Significant Action - February 24, 2021

Because we go through the life of our Savior each and every year, I’m pretty confident that we are all familiar with the major events that took place on Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. But how familiar are you with what took place on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of that holiest week? These days are well worth our time, because these days contain some of Jesus’ most significant words and actions. Starting tonight and throughout the rest of this Lenten season, we will explore what happened on the three days between Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday.

Tonight’s text takes place on Monday of Holy Week. The day before, Palm Sunday, Jesus had been welcomed into Jerusalem with shouts of Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! (Matthew 21:9). But the day ended on a rather ominous note. Mark tells us that Jesus went into the temple courts in Jerusalem and looked around at everything (Mark 11:11). The next day, Jesus would do a whole lot more than just look around. On Monday, Jesus, disgusted with what he saw going on there, took significant action.

On Monday, Jesus went into the temple area and began to drive out those who were selling and buying in the temple courts. Jesus justified his actions by quoting Isaiah and Jeremiah: My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations (Isaiah 56:7) but you have made it ‘a den of robbers’! (Jeremiah 7:11) Without a doubt, this is a pretty shocking scene. This is not the meek and gentle Jesus we’re used to. So what’s really going on here? Each year during the Passover festival – a festival God commanded his people to celebrate every year to remind them of his deliverance of their forefathers from Egypt (Exodus 13:1-16) – thousands of Jews would come to Jerusalem to celebrate. Many came from far away, and the practical reality is that it was much easier for them to simply buy the animals they needed for their sacrifices and offerings right at the temple rather than try to transport them dozens or hundreds of miles. To make the process even more convenient, the vendors just happened to have animals that had been preapproved by the priests for use at the temple. Of course, these preapproved animals came at a premium price. There were even rumors that some of the purchase price was kicked-back to the priests and that some of the priests rejected any animals that weren’t purchased from one of their “approved” vendors. In other words, there was clearly unethical, if not criminal, collusion going on in the temple, enabled and even initiated by the very leaders, the priests, who were supposed to enable and assist the Jewish people in worshipping God (Hebrews 5:1) during the highest festival in Israel’s church year.

And that’s not all. The pilgrims who came to Jerusalem with foreign currency in their wallets had to exchange it for the currency that was acceptable to pay the temple tax (which, wouldn’t you know it, was a shekel that was minted only in Jerusalem and nowhere else). You can guess what this led to – in fact, if you’ve ever traveled internationally, you know that currency exchangers charge you to exchange your money. Knowing that they had a virtual monopoly on the currency exchange business right at the temple, the money changers could charge exorbitant fees. All in all, the situation Jesus found in the temple area during Passover week wasn’t focused on God, prayer and sacrifice – but on the “business” that had to happen before there could be any focus on God, prayer or sacrifice. The focus had shifted from the spiritual to the secular; from the things of God to the things of men (Mark 8:33).

As bad as these collusion schemes were, there was something even worse taking place in the temple courts. It was no accident that Jesus quoted this specific verse from Isaiah: my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations. The temple was to be a house of prayer not only for ethnic Jews but also for Gentiles. That’s why God designed the temple with a court for male Jews, a court for female Jews, and an additional court for Gentiles (1 Chronicles 28). Of course, when a marketplace needed to be constructed for buying and selling – which court do you think was utilized? The court of the Gentiles. The temple, which God had intended to be a place of prayer for people of all nations had instead become a money-making machine for the religious leaders and their cronies – to the exclusion of pious people – including Gentile converts – who had come to worship and pray. This is the main reason why Jesus launched into action, clearing out the temple area.

Jesus’ actions sent a clear message to the chief priests and experts in the law. But that’s not all it does. It sends a message to us, too. We, too, can be tempted to turn God’s house and the Gospel ministry into little more than a utilitarian operation. No, I’m not suggesting that any of our leaders are lining their pockets with your offerings – although there are many false teachers out there who have and are fleecing God’s flock in order to enrich themselves. No, I’m saying that we can be tempted to view two of the most important elements of Gospel ministry – evangelism and church discipline – as little more than a means to an end. I’m grateful that I’ve never heard this sentiment here, but it’s certainly been said in many congregations that “we need more members to take the financial burden off of us.” But I have heard, from unfaithful members I’ve reached out to, “I know I don’t come to church, but I’ve used the PayPal link on your website to give my offering.” Is the reason we reach out to the lost and to the wandering just to ensure that we end up in the black at the end of the fiscal year?

Even apart from – and, I believe, more dangerous than – the financial temptation, is the temptation to believe that the main reason to engage in evangelism and church discipline is for the survival of the church. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again because I believe it is an insidious attitude that has taken root in our own church body – we don’t seek the lost for the survival of the church. Why not? Quite simply, because it’s not our church – it’s Jesus’ (Matthew 16:18). He’s the head (Ephesians 5:23), he promises to provide for her (Matthew 6:25-34), he guarantees that even the gates of hell cannot overcome her (Matthew 16:18). If we ever view Gospel ministry as simply a means for preserving our church, then we’ve reversed the roles. God didn’t put people into our families and office spaces and neighborhoods to serve his church – he put his church in your life and in this neighborhood to serve and save our neighbors with the means of grace. Christ will provide for the maintenance and upkeep and survival of his church – that’s not our main concern. Our main concern should be maintaining this house that Christ has given us as a house of prayer for all nations.

But even those concerns are secondary to the main problem. The problem in the temple courts on Monday wasn’t really that there were salesmen selling doves and bankers exchanging money – those things did have to be done. It was that they were placing an obstacle in the way of both Jewish and Gentile pilgrims to be able to do what they had come to the Temple for: to worship their God. Self-examination time: are there any obstacles in the way of our true and sincere worship of God our Savior today? Is there anything that prevents you from studying God’s Word and praying on a daily basis in your own home, with your own family? When you come here, where do you expect the spotlight to be: on you or on God? Why don’t more of our members come to these Lenten services? Is it because it isn’t convenient enough? That’s the argument the Jewish leaders would have made – we need to make it convenient. Really? Since when is worship supposed to be convenient? Since when is it supposed to be easy? Since when is it not supposed to interrupt your plans too much? Are there all sorts of things running through your mind during your time here, all sorts of obstacles that get in between you and truly hearing God’s Word and receiving his gifts? I know it’s not comfortable to ask these questions, but we aren’t here to be comfortable – we are here to be confronted with our sins and confess them so that they can be forgiven by Jesus’ blood.  

The good news is that clearing the obstacles out of the way of true worship is not really up to us – it’s up to Jesus. Jesus – and not one of his disciples – is the one who took action in driving the vendors and money changers out of the temple and he’s the one who takes action to drive the obstacles out of our lives so that we worship and receive his gifts through Word and Sacrament. While Jesus’ action on Monday was certainly significant, his mission of salvation required him to take even more significant action on Friday of Holy Week. On Friday, the Friday we call “Good,” he didn’t just drive vendors and money changers from the temple, he drove sin, death and the devil from their throne in our hearts and the world. He removed the main obstacle that separated us and others from God – namely, our sin (Isaiah 59:2) – the permanent removal of which was symbolized by the tearing of the curtain in the temple from top to bottom (Matthew 27:51). Now we can enter the presence of God in worship and prayer – because Jesus has cleared every obstacle out of the way with his blood (Hebrews 10:19-23).

And, having removed the obstacle of sin objectively – that is, for the world – Jesus also took significant action to apply this redemption to you personally. You may not remember it – I don’t – but nonetheless, when we were baptized Jesus worked through water and the Word to pour the Holy Spirit on you, to call you to faith, to wash away your sin, to claim you as a child of God, and to make you an heir of eternal life in heaven. It would have been fascinating to be there on Monday of Holy Week to see Jesus drive all those obstacles out of the temple. But what we should really focus on is that day in our own lives when Jesus drove all the obstacles out of our hearts that kept us away from God. For you and for me, that’s really the day of Jesus’ most significant action in our lives.

As you might expect, the religious leaders were not exactly pleased with the action Jesus took that Monday. It was not good for business. They were afraid of him – afraid of his popularity and afraid that he was ruining their cash cow; and out of their fear they were looking for a way to kill him. By the end of the week, they would get what they wanted. But, for tonight, give thanks for the significant action Jesus took on your behalf on Good Friday and the day of your Baptism – clearing out the sin that kept you from worshipping the one true God in spirit and in truth (John 4:23). Amen.

Mark 1:12-15 - The Heart of Lent - February 21, 2021

You may or may not be aware of the fact that our church follows a lectionary – that is, a list of Scripture readings appointed to be read for each Sunday of the church year. We are currently following a three year lectionary – one year in Matthew, one in Mark, and one in Luke – with selections from John’s Gospel scattered throughout all three years. We don’t have to follow a lectionary, but this practice does ensure that over the course of the year we cover the whole life of Christ and the whole counsel of God – and not just whatever happens to be on my mind on any given Sunday. The reason I bring this up is that in each of the three years, Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness is the appointed Gospel for today, the first Sunday in Lent. And if you compare the three accounts from Matthew, Mark and Luke one thing pops out immediately: Mark’s account is incredibly brief – just two sentences. There are probably two reasons for this. First, Mark is likely assuming that his readers are already familiar with the details of Jesus’ temptation from reading or hearing Matthew and Luke’s accounts. Second, and more importantly for us today, Mark is eager, almost impatient, to answer that Lutheran question: what does Jesus’ temptation mean for us? The answer is the simple but profound heart of Lent: repent and believe.

Repent. What does that little word mean? It means simply “to change your mind.” What do we need to change our minds about? You may be surprised by the answers to that question this morning. Repent of thinking that God throws you aside after your baptism. We’ve all had that feeling before, haven’t we? If you were baptized as an adult, you probably had a sense of closeness to God. Even if you were baptized as a baby, when you were young you probably remember feeling that God was on your side; that you really felt like “Jesus’ little lamb.” And then life happened. Then some of the things Paul described in our second lesson happened to you (Romans 8:35). Not just life happened but death; not just angels but demons were your companions; not only the problems of the present but the problems of the future terrified you. You felt like the Psalmist did when he wrote: for your sake we are being put to death all day long. We are considered as sheep to be slaughtered (Psalm 44:22, quoted by Paul in Romans 8:36).

There are two problems with believing that God has abandoned you; thrown you away. First, it appeals to our sinful nature; it makes us feel very righteous; it feeds our ego to believe that we are on our own. Second, there is hardly anyone in the world who will call you to repent of this sin. Which of your friends is going to blame you for feeling like God has abandoned you when your life seems to be falling apart? Which of your family members is going to tell you you’re wrong – and need to repent – for accusing God of being neglectful when you’re sick, suffering or dying? If you see a dirty, bruised, hungry child you have no problem concluding that the parent is neglectful, so why shouldn’t we conclude that about God?

How dare we! How dare we ever believe that the God who adopted us as his children in baptism would ever abandon us as orphans (Isaiah 49:15-16)! How dare we believe that the God who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all would ever neglect us (Romans 8:32)! How dare we imagine that the God who promised I will never leave you, and I will never forsake you (Hebrews 13:5) would ever break that promise! It’s the height of unbelief; a sin against the very first commandment to allege that God doesn’t love us like he says he does; like he’s proven he does in Jesus (Romans 5:8). When we’re suffering, we need to repent of thinking that it means that God has abandoned us; instead we should change our minds and understand that God uses even suffering and trouble as an instrument to keep us close to himself (Romans 5:3-5).

Repent, Jesus went to Galilee to preach. Repent, is also what Jesus sent me here to preach (Luke 24:46-49). Repent of thinking that Jesus’ temptation is nothing more than an example for you to follow. This sin usually arises when the gospel for the first Sunday in Lent comes from Matthew or Luke where Jesus defeats Satan by quoting three bible passages. Now, don’t misunderstand, the Bible does say resist the Devil, and he will flee from you (James 4:7) and that we should hold up the shield of faith, with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the Evil One. Also take…the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God (Ephesians 6:16). But if you’ve turned Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness into a “How-To” guide for defeating the devil yourself, you must repent.

The Spirit didn’t send Jesus into the wilderness to show us how to defeat Satan. The Spirit sent him out onto the battlefield to do what we can’t do; what even Adam and Eve in the perfection of Eden couldn’t do. In a lush garden, surrounded by food, without even a molecule of sin in their nature, even Adam and Eve quickly fell to Satan (Genesis 3:6). Eve tried quoting God’s Word against Satan and he ripped the sword out of her hand and stabbed her with it. Repent of thinking that you can overcome temptation on your own (which is why Jesus taught us to pray lead us not into temptation (Matthew 6:13).

Closely related to this sin is the sin of promising to do better next time. I see this most often when I confront people about their unfaithful church attendance. When I say “Do you know that neglecting the means of grace is a sin against the 3rd Commandment?” it’s uncanny how often they respond, “I promise to do better next time.” Here’s the thing: God isn’t looking for promises. He’s looking for repentance. Remember, to “repent” means, first and foremost, to change your mind. Repentance is an act of God, the power of the Spirit, a miracle (Acts 11:18; 2 Timothy 2:25). Actions will follow, but you can’t change your mind by changing your actions. In fact, everyone knows that you can change your actions without changing your mind. That’s called hypocrisy.

Lent is a season of repentance – so…Repent! Repent of thinking that God has cast you aside; repent of thinking that you can overcome Satan’s temptations on your own; and repent of thinking that you are in charge of building the kingdom of God. This is another sin that feels so righteous when you’re committing it. It makes us feel big and important to think: “Jesus came and did his work; now the rest is up to us!” But look at our text. Jesus didn’t say: “I’ve brought the blueprints for you to build the kingdom of God!” He preached the kingdom of God has come near! In Jesus, the kingdom of God has arrived.

This shouldn’t be a difficult sin for we Lutherans to repent of, for we confess with Luther in his explanation of the Second Petition, that “God’s kingdom certainly comes by itself even without our prayer” (SC Lord’s Prayer, Second Petition). For example, as you were driving here this morning did you pray that God’s kingdom would come here? Of course not, you took it for granted that where Jesus is, there is his kingdom. Jesus is wherever his Word and Sacrament are, so Jesus’ kingdom is here, even without our prayer, apart from any effort on our part. Repent of thinking that Jesus is quarantined up in heaven just hoping and waiting for you to build his kingdom.

Repent, Jesus preached after his baptism. But that’s not all he preached. He also preached believe. Believe that while God will never throw you out, he did indeed throw Jesus out after his baptism. Our translation doesn’t fully capture the essence of the original Greek. The Greek literally says that “the Spirit cast (or threw) him out into the wilderness.” (It’s the same verb used later of Jesus casting out demons (Mark 1:39; 43; 3:15; etc.)). Why would God do that to his Son? Well, frankly, he didn’t have a choice. At his baptism, which immediately preceded our text, Jesus was burdened with all of our sin and guilt and shame. Saddled with our sins, the sins we blush to remember, the sins we can’t forget, the sins we don’t even know about (Psalm 19:12) – God had to cast Jesus out of his sight (Isaiah 59:2). Believe that God threw his only Son out into the wilderness – so that he might never, ever have to throw you into the fire of hell.

Believe that while carrying the sin of the world Jesus entered into battle with Satan; and he did it all alone. Believe that Jesus took on Satan using only the Word of God as his weapon. Believe that Jesus held onto faith in his Father’s love through every temptation. Believe that he never gave an inch to any sin of doubt or despair or unbelief. Believe that while Satan can lead us into all sorts of sin and unbelief – he couldn’t trap Jesus. And believe that Jesus did this for you. Don’t let Jesus’ victory over Satan in the wilderness go to waste. When you believe that your salvation depends on your ability to overcome temptation or do better in the future, you are wasting what Jesus endured in that wilderness. Don’t think you have to endure loneliness and hunger; that you have to overcome temptation in order to be saved – because you can’t! Instead, believe that Jesus did it for you!

Above all, here’s what you are to believe: you are to believe what Jesus says. What Jesus says – not what you see, think or feel; not what’s happening in your life right now – is real. When Jesus says, as he does today, that the time is fulfilled…the kingdom of God has come near you are to believe this with all your heart, soul and mind. What is the kingdom of God? Paul tells us in Romans 14: the kingdom of God [consists] of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit (Romans 14:17). Isn’t this what you have right now through baptism, absolution and communion? God himself promises that these gifts are yours through these means of grace whether you feel or see them or not. In other words, the kingdom of God is unconditional. It isn’t only present if everything is going right in my life; if I have perfect health; if my conscience doesn’t bother me; if my faith feels strong. No, the kingdom is here not because of what is going on my life but because of what Jesus did in his and what he gives us through Word and Sacrament.

You can be sure of this, you should believe this because Jesus brought the kingdom of God to us by dealing with the two things that kept the gates of the kingdom locked to us: the law and sin. First, Jesus dealt with the law. From the moment of his conception Jesus spent his life actively keeping, obeying, fulfilling God’s law perfectly. That’s what he was doing in the wilderness; that’s what he had done as he grew up in Mary and Joseph’s house; that’s what he did day in and day out every day of his life.

And then he dealt with sin. Contrary to what many believe today, God takes sin seriously. He demands that sin be paid for in full. God isn’t some cosmic Santa Claus who laughs and winks at sin. No, his wrath had to be satisfied. Only God could satisfy the wrath of God – but because God wasn’t angry at God but at man, it took God in human flesh to get the job done. Jesus suffered for our sins by bleeding, sweating and crying human blood, sweat and tears – and because his blood, sweat and tears were the blood, sweat and tears of God, they satisfied God – and, therefore, they should satisfy you too! Jesus bled and died to pay for your sins; they are forgiven! Believe it! This is what you are to believe: you are to believe this gospel, this good news, that by his life, death and resurrection Jesus has opened the kingdom of heaven to you and all believers.  

The first Sunday of Lent takes us right to the heart of Lent: repent and believe. Repent of thinking that God could cast you out and instead believe that he has cast Jesus out in your place. Repent of thinking that you must overcome the devil in order to enter God’s kingdom – instead, believe that Jesus overcame the devil to bring the kingdom to you. These two little words – repent and believe – are not only the heart of Lent, they are the heart of our lives as Christians today and tomorrow and every day until we see the kingdom of God with our own eyes. Amen.

Genesis 3:19 - Significant Problem - February 17, 2021 - Ash Wednesday

Why are you here this evening? That may sound like a throw-away question, but tonight, I’m serious. Why are you here? You could be at home watching Netflix or eating a quiet dinner or helping your children with their homework. But…you’re here. Why? There must be a pretty significant reason, right? You may think you’re here because you just come to church whenever there is a service out of habit or because you love singing Lenten hymns or because you feel obligated to be here for one reason or another. But you’re not really here for any of those reasons. This day, Ash Wednesday, pulls off the mask of any superficial reasons we may have to come to church. There is really only one good reason for you to be here in God’s house tonight – or any other day, for that matter. And that reason is the direct result of events that took place on one incredibly significant day thousands of years ago in the Garden of Eden. On that day Adam and Eve created a significant problem for humanity – and that’s why we’re here tonight.

For you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Those were God’s last words – last curse, really – to Adam after he and his wife had eaten fruit from the forbidden tree. God had warned them that if they ate the fruit from that one tree that they would surely die (Genesis 2:17) – but they didn’t listen, they didn’t believe, they didn’t trust God’s Word and trusted the words of Satan instead. And from that day on, death became the inescapable end of life for Adam and Eve and all of their ancestors – just as God said it would.

For you are dust, and to dust you shall return is a loaded sentence, packed with meaning. First, it recalls the origin of human life, that God formed Adam from the dust of the earth and breathed the breath of life into him to give him consciousness and life (Genesis 2:7). Second, it acknowledges that because of his sin, Adam’s body would return to dust and his soul would return to God, what we call temporal death (Ecclesiastes 12:7). Third, and most importantly for us tonight, it acknowledges the spiritual death that Adam and Eve had brought into the world by their rebellious actions. Adam and Eve would from that point on be banished from the presence of God, separated from his love, mercy and compassion. Adam would have to live the rest of his life remembering those words of God; longing for his presence; wishing that he could travel back in time and reverse what he had done. But he couldn’t. The dirty deed had been done and could not be undone. Adam and Eve’s fates were sealed: You are dust, and to dust you shall return.

This is no myth nor is it just some interesting piece of history. This story has a direct impact on our lives here and now. Because you and I are conceived and born facing the same problem Adam and Eve did. The Apostle Paul writes: Just as sin entered the world through one man and death through sin, so also death spread to all people because all sinned (Romans 5:12). Worse than, as has been alleged, some scientist in some lab in Wuhan, China somehow getting infected and spreading Covid-19 throughout the world – Adam’s sin infects each and every human being – including you and me, my children and yours – so that it could rightly be said at the birth of a child: you are dust, and to dust you shall return. (How’s that for a greeting card?)

It’s a significant problem, to put it mildly. But it’s a problem that we will go to great lengths to avoid thinking about, to prevent, to delay, to pretend that it doesn’t exist. Why are some of the biggest buildings in our country hospitals? (They’re kind of like the cathedrals of the modern western world.) Why do you think we’re still wearing masks – and now, doubling and tripling them up – even though it is highly debatable what, if any, impact they have on minimizing the spread of Covid-19? Why has our nation poured billions of dollars into developing a vaccine, why do we gobble down prescription pills like candy, why do we spend hours each week running and biking and exercising? Because we suffer under the illusion that by doing those things we can prevent – or at least delay – the onset of death. (I’m not saying that we shouldn’t do what we can to live healthy lifestyles, but the truth is that God has already picked the day you and I will die, and there’s nothing we can do to change his timetable (Hebrews 9:27).) The point being that in spite of our best efforts, in spite of thousands of years of medical and scientific advancements, God’s curse still stands undefeated today: you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

That’s the first reason we’re here this evening. We’re here to agree with God’s proclamation that we are dust. We’re here to confess our sin to God and to one another – which is the root cause of death. We’re here express our sorrow over our sins. We’re here to ask God for forgiveness. We ask God to help us leave our sinful lives behind and to give us the strength to live according to his will.

And yet, there’s something even more important for you to remember this evening than the fact that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Do you know what that is? It’s that God remembers that you are dust. David says in Psalm 103: [God] knows how we were formed. He remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:14). In fact, God didn’t say those words to Adam just to scare him but to comfort him. God wanted Adam to know that he knew he was dust and promised that he had decided to act on that knowledge. Just four verses before this, on that same significant day, God spoke to Satan and swore that he was going to send someone to crush his head and destroy all his wicked work, including death (Genesis 3:15; 1 John 3:8).

And, as we know, this was more than an empty threat. We know that God has taken action for us on the basis of his knowledge that we are dust. He sent his Son to take on human flesh – to assume our dust, if you will (John 1:14). In terms that even the secular, ungodly world around us could understand, God developed and sent Jesus to earth as the vaccine – not just for a single, mutant virus – but for death itself. Jesus is our vaccine for death because he absorbed all of our sin into his own flesh and suffered the punishment sin deserves. He endured the penalty of eternal death on the cross as he was separated from God’s love, mercy and compassion; separated and abandoned from his eternal Father – which is hell itself – a death he declared with that haunting cry: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46) And when he was done, he went into the earth, into the dust of the ground, when he was buried in a tomb (Matthew 27:57-61).

But here’s the good news. Here’s why we’re really here tonight. You don’t really need me to tell you that you and your children and mine and everyone else in the world is going to die. You know that – even if you try your best to forget, prevent and delay it. No, you’re here tonight because you need to hear me tell you that even though Jesus was laid in the dust, he didn’t stay there. Three days after his burial he rose from the dust to life – just as he said he would (Matthew 28:6). And, because he did, so will you (John 14:19). When he returns in glory, you and all who believe in him will rise from the dust of the earth with new, perfect, glorified bodies. Bodies that are imperishable and immortal, no longer bound by sin or enslaved by Satan or doomed to die (1 Corinthians 15:35-49).

That’s why you’re here tonight. You’re here to gather before this cross because on a cross Jesus earned your forgiveness and your salvation and your life – life after death, life without end. You’re here because by God’s grace and the Holy Spirit’s power (1 Corinthians 12:3) you believe that what is more vital than wearing a mask (or two or three) or receiving a vaccine or staying 6 feet away from “folks you don’t live with,” is to receive this promise, this gift of eternal life through Word and Sacrament. You’re here to stare death in the eye and spit in its face and to shout: death, where is your sting? Grave, where is your victory?...Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! (1 Corinthians 15:55-56) (And, trust me, shouting that is much more satisfying than shouting at someone for not wearing their mask properly!)

There’s no denying the truth that we are dust, and to dust [we] will return. We know it – but far more importantly – God knows it. And he has not left us to waste away into dust. He came here as a helpless baby, a powerful preacher, and a crucified and risen Savior to guarantee that one day we will rise from the dust of the grave to never-ending life in heaven. This is Lent. We don’t need Lent to remind us that we are dust – those reminders are everywhere; we need Lent to remind us that God has not left us in the dust. Amen.

Mark 9:2-9 - Last Stop Before Lent - February 14, 2021

When you’re on a road trip, you’ll occasionally see signs issuing rather strong advice. “Last exit before toll road” tells you to get off the road if you don’t want to pay. “Last rest area for 92 miles” tells you if you have to go, stop and go now. “Last gas for 200 miles” tells you to fill up if you’re running low. “Stop here before going on” is the message these signs convey. Well, if we see the Christian church year as a road trip, then Transfiguration is a sign telling us to stop, to pause before we enter the season of Lent.

The question is: why? Why stop here on this mountaintop? There’s no question that this is a pretty fascinating scene. Jesus is transfigured in front of his disciples, revealing his true glory as God. And Moses and Elijah, the representatives of the law and the prophets respectively, are there. These two details combined tell us that this mountaintop is a sample of the resurrection life. It appears to indicate that in heaven we will recognize each other – even saints we’ve never met. It gives definite proof that there is no such thing as “soul sleep” or “conditional immortality” – the false teaching of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and other false religions that when a person dies they drop into an unconscious state until the end of time, [1] because here Moses – who died and was buried (Deuteronomy 34:5-6) – and, Elijah who was taken to heaven in a whirlwind (2 Kings 2), are both fully alive and fully conscious. Here we see what the believers who have gone before us are enjoying now and what we look forward to enjoying in the future.

And yet, as interesting as all this is, why does our Lord stop us here before he begins his final journey to the cross? Why in the world do Moses and Elijah show up now, just before Lent? The answer is that this scene connects what Jesus is about to do with the OT. As we read in the last verses of the OT in Malachi: remember the law of my servant Moses, which I commanded to him at Horeb to serve as statutes and judgments over all Israel. Look! I am going to send Elijah the prophet to you before the great and fearful day of the LORD comes! He will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers. Otherwise, I will come and strike the land with complete destruction (Malachi 4:4-6). Here on the Mt. of Transfiguration these words are fulfilled. Moses is here to remind the disciples (and us) of the law. Elijah is here in power to turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers. In other words, right before Jesus offers up the New Testament in his blood (Matthew 26:28) we are reminded of where we would be if the story ended with the Old Testament. And it’s not a pretty picture.

We are to remember the Law of Moses, summarized in the 10 commandments. We are to remember how Jesus’ clear and forceful preaching of the law throughout his ministry proves that no one, not the disciples, not the Pharisees, not you and not me have kept God’s law perfectly. We are to remember that no one will be declared righteous in his sight by works of the law, for through the law we become aware of sin (Romans 3:20). Well, what about Elijah, what does his presence mean? Elijah was the preeminent preacher of repentance. The disciples didn’t really understand it at the time, but Jesus told them as they’re coming down the mountain: Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever they wanted, just as it was written about him (Mark 9:13). John the Baptist was this Elijah, this forerunner. Like the first Elijah he issued powerful calls to repentance accompanied by the sign of baptism. But like, Elijah, John faced nothing but hostility. Herod did with him what he wanted by chopping off his head (Mark 6:14-29). This travesty only served to guarantee that the Lord would eventually come to strike the land with complete destruction.

What does this mean for us? The Lord wants us to make a last stop on this mountain and look back to the Old Testament and come to the sobering realization that if the story ended there, we’d all be lost and condemned. All the laws of Moses cannot save us; all the powerful preaching and miracles of Elijah cannot turn or convert our hearts from unbelief to faith. We need something and someone better. That’s why at this last stop God takes Moses and Elijah back to heaven so that the disciples would stop looking to them and look to Jesus alone. Transfiguration teaches us to stop with the Old Testament, to understand that the OT cannot save us.

Imagine if at the last stop before an especially barren portion of highway they siphoned the gas out of your car and took the water bottles out of your cooler and that all the restrooms were out of order. That’s kind of what happened to Peter. Six days before the Transfiguration Peter had confessed that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the living God (Matthew 16:16). And once the disciples had a handle on Jesus’ identity, Jesus proceeded to inform them of his work. He taught them the theology of the cross: that [he] must suffer many things; be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the experts in the law; be killed; and after three days rise again (Mark 8:31) – and that anyone who wanted to follow him must similarly take up his cross, and follow [him] (Mark 8:34). And Peter’s gut reaction to this theology was the same as mine: “No way! Jesus, you can’t suffer and die and neither can I! There’s got to be a better, easier way.” (Mark 8:32) Well, Jesus turned around and called him Satan and told him to get his head out of you-know-where. No, really. He told him to get his mind off the things of men and set it on the things of God (Mark 8:33).

Peter’s revulsion to the theology of the cross is probably why he wanted to keep Moses and Elijah in tents up there on that mountain. These heroes of the OT were the cavalry who could save Jesus and him from any kind of cross. At Moses’ command the earth swallowed up his enemies (Numbers 16:31-35); by Moses’ word Egypt was plagued and God’s people delivered (Exodus 7-11). And now he was here. And so was Elijah the prophet who had slaughtered hundreds of prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18) and called fire from heaven down on enemy soldiers (2 Kings 1). The cavalry had arrived and Peter intended to keep them around by putting up tents for them. No more of this talk of being betrayed, rejected, and crucified – not with Moses and Elijah on your side. With these reinforcements, Jesus could become the powerful, glorious Messiah he was longing for. But then – poof! – they were gone. And all he was left with was Jesus, Jesus alone. Some rest stop; some last stop before Lent.

Transfiguration impresses on us that we need to stop being like Peter. What was Peter’s real problem? He wanted a shortcut to glory. He wanted to avoid suffering and the cross at all costs. He wanted to stay there in that little slice of heaven with Moses and Elijah and not have to descend the mountain to watch Jesus be arrested, abused, tortured and crucified – and to endure suffering and temptation himself. And he’s not alone. That’s the original sin, isn’t it? Satan led Adam and Eve to seek a shortcut to godly wisdom by eating the forbidden fruit (Genesis 3:6). In a way, every sin is a shortcut to God’s will. And we still take these shortcuts with frightening frequency. Why do people fabricate false gods? Because they want the glory of believing they can achieve their own salvation without the humble confession that we are lost and condemned sinners. Why do we fail to praise Jesus’ name before family and friends? Because we want a shortcut to the glory of acceptance, not the long, hard road of mockery and ridicule – or perhaps even being “canceled” from our career or friend group. We seek the shortcut of escape from stress and depression in substances and distractions to avoid the hard work of repentance and prayer. We cohabitate or secretly lust after images on our devices because we seek the pleasure of marriage without the effort and commitment. And the list could go on. But just like on a road trip, these shortcuts always end up in disaster. Just ask Adam and Eve (Genesis 3:16-19). Just ask Peter, who tried to take a shortcut out of a difficult situation in the temple courtyard by swearing up and down that he didn’t know Jesus, only to end up outside the city weeping bitterly (Matthew 26:75).

Transfiguration means that we need to stop being like Peter as we enter Lent. We need to stop following the seductive shortcuts offered up by Satan and promoted by the world. There are no shortcuts to glory for Jesus or for us. Just as Jesus had to leave that mountain to be arrested, tortured, and crucified, so we must pick up the cross of self-denial and repentance and follow him. And it’s healthy for us to do so. For as we struggle and strive against the sinful nature – and fail again and again – we better understand why we don’t need more laws and we don’t need miracles, we need Jesus, Jesus alone.

What do we get in Jesus alone? The voice from heaven tells us. It says: this is my Son; whom I love. Listen to him. First, this is my Son. The poor man that we will see beaten and bloodied, overwhelmed with sorrow, crying and crucified and forsaken by God is none other than God’s Son. This is “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one being with the Father. Through him all things were made” (Nicene Creed). Why do we have to remember this? Because unless God kept the law for us, it’s not kept well enough and unless God shed his blood on the cross there is no way that our sins can be covered and our curse removed. Unless Jesus is God, Lent and Christianity itself are a complete waste of time.

Second, whom I love. The Father is saying more than that he just loves his Son. The Greek literally says that Jesus is the beloved. God doesn’t just love Jesus, he loves him exclusively. How could he not? He was perfect. The rest of us, we’re terrible disappointments. How could he love us? Why, when we look in the mirror, would anyone love us? But God does. God loved us so much that he sent his beloved Son to bear the curse of sin – the never-ending torment of hell – on the cross, all so that he could turn towards us in love. This is why we need Lent every year. This means that Lent is very personal for each of us. We can’t view Lent with a cold and detached disinterest, as if we were just watching a movie. The hatred, the suffering, the death we will hear in our passion history readings over the course of the next six weeks is the hatred, the suffering, the death that we deserved. But Jesus alone, the beloved Son of the Father, will endure it so that we never will. Lent is for no one but sinners. Lent is for you and for me.

Third, listen to him. Don’t listen to the accusations that Moses’ law levels against you that tell you that you deserve nothing but death and damnation. Listen to Jesus who suffered death and damnation in your place. Don’t listen to the devil’s false promises of glory without the cross; listen to Jesus’ promise that the way of the cross is the only road to glory (Mark 9:34-35). Don’t listen to the world which tries to distract you with earthly things; listen to Jesus who keeps your focus on the never-ending glory of life that awaits you in heaven (Philippians 3:20).  

And where can you listen to Jesus? Not in your heart – your heart is deceitful above all things and incurable (Jeremiah 17:9). Not in the world. The world is under the power of the evil one (1 John 5:19). We listen to Jesus in His Word. Once again this Lent we’re going to hear Jesus say some beautiful things: Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing (Luke 23:34); Today you will be with me in paradise (Luke 23:43); My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mark 15:34); It is finished (John 19:30); Father, into your hands I commit my spirit (Luke 23:46). These are words that Moses and Elijah never spoke. These are words you will never hear from the devil, the world or your sinful flesh. These are words that Jesus alone can and does speak to you. These are words spoken from a cross to people living under a cross that lead to true glory. These are the words of Jesus. As we begin Lent this week, it is well worth our time to make every effort to listen to him.

This is Transfiguration. This is our last stop before Lent. Let’s not waste it. Let’s stop thinking that salvation can be found in either the laws of Moses or the miracles of Elijah. Let’s stop being like Peter, hoping to find a shortcut to glory without the cross. Let’s stop, look, and listen to Jesus alone – for hidden in his cross and ours we find true, lasting glory. Amen.

[1] https://www.namb.net/apologetics/resource/soul-sleep/

Mark 1:21-28 - Who Gets the Last Word? - February 7, 2021

The last word. Everyone wants it. Husbands and wives want it when we have our, what shall we call them…differences of opinion. Children want the last word when arguing over who’s faster or stronger or better at video games. Politicians definitely want the last word – and if they can’t get it on the floor of the house or senate they run out to the media to try to get it. Even Christians can be found trying to get the last word in meetings and Bible classes. Getting the last word is a sign of power and authority. Today, the question is not: who wants the last word – because everyone does. The question is: who gets the last word?

Everyone who wants the last word fits into one category: they are all sinners. What’s interesting is that there are two ends of the spectrum when it comes to how sinners believe they can get the last word. On one end, you have the person who says “No one tells me what to do! I’ll decide what’s right and wrong and what is true and false.” This might be called, for lack of a better term, “libertinism.” Libertines demand to be free from all outside power and authority. Then you have those who claim an elite, highly intellectual philosophy. They believe that no one can definitively have the last word on anything. For them, one person can say that boys are girls; someone else can say that unborn babies are nothing more than a disposable tissue mass; and a third can say that gender and life itself are simply social constructs – so that nothing anyone says is absolute. These are “postmodernists”; relativists. Do you see what the irony is about both ends of the spectrum if taken to their logical conclusion? In the end, I, the sinner, get the last word, and no one can tell me otherwise!

Whichever end of the spectrum a person is on, all sinners want the last word in life. We want to have the last word on what is and isn’t sin, what is true and what is false, what is necessary to believe and do and what is not. It’s part of our human nature – inherited from Adam and Eve. The question is: does it work? Does demanding the last word get it for you? No. In fact, both libertines and postmodernists will have to one day admit that they don’t have the last word. Why not? Because of the great equalizer: death. No sinner has authority over the grave. That authority belongs to God. In Deuteronomy, God says now see that I, only I, am he, and there is not a god comparable to me. I put to death and I make alive. I wound and I heal. There is no one who can deliver out of my hand (Deuteronomy 32:39). Death puts to sleep any idea we may have that the last word will ever be ours.

In Greek mythology, there’s a story about a demi-goddess named Echo. She had a talent for gossip and the King of the gods, Zeus, used her talented tongue to distract his wife Hera while he engaged in affairs with other demi-goddesses on earth. Well, soon enough Hera discovered this scheme and cursed her to be unable to speak anything other than the last words spoken to her. [1] “You shall still have the last word, but no power to speak first.” [2] She was doomed to be nothing more than an echo of what others said to her. This is us. We think we’re speaking the last word but in reality we’re just echoing what the devil, the world, and our flesh said first. Most of the time it doesn’t bother us because what they say is flattering, what they say agrees with our fallen reason, what they say inflates our egos; telling us you can live life your way; you don’t have to answer to anyone; you get the last word. But what does living that lie get you? Just one thing: death – both now and eternally.

Sinners want the last word, but God has it. And the good news is that God has given us his last word in the flesh and blood of Jesus. That’s what the writer to the Hebrews told us in our second lesson: In the past, God spoke to our forefathers by the prophets at many times and in many ways. In these last days, he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact imprint of the divine nature. He sustains all things by his powerful word (Hebrews 1:1-3). Jesus is God’s last word to us in these last days. What he says goes.

Jesus proves this today by exercising his authority over an unclean spirit. 12 months ago, I don’t think the term “unclean” would have meant as much to us as it means now. Today, if a contact tracer or your employer or an app on your phone tells you that you’ve been within breathing distance of someone who has tested positive for Covid-19, you are considered “unclean” and must quarantine yourself – cut yourself off from fellowship with others – for days or weeks. In much the same way, under God’s Old Testament Law, a person was unclean – and therefore excluded from religious and ceremonial fellowship – for any of a number of reasons: touching anything that was dead, giving birth to a child, having a skin disease (Leviticus 11-13). Because this man had an unclean spirit he was cut off from fellowship with God. 

Do you know what that’s like? To live with an unclean spirit? No, maybe, by God’s grace, we’ve never been physically possessed like the man in our text – but we’ve all lived with unclean spirits nonetheless. We are living with an unclean spirit when we believe that the accusing voice of conscience and the haunting sins of the past are more powerful than the cleansing words of absolution. We are living with an unclean spirit when we think that our pet sins, our sinful habits and addictions, are more powerful than the Holy Spirit’s power to grant new life through the rebirth and renewal of Baptism (Titus 3:5). We are living with an unclean spirit when we think that any disease or virus or cancer is more powerful than the medicine of immortality that our Lord offers us through his body and blood. When we do that, we are allowing Satan to have the last word. We are agreeing with him, that our sinfulness is more powerful than the righteousness Jesus freely gives us through the means of grace. We are giving him, not Jesus, the last word. And living with these “unclean spirits” of doubt and disbelief and despair cuts us off from fellowship with God.

And nothing but the authoritative Word of God can expose and expel these unclean spirits. Did you notice that in our text? Where would you expect to find a demon-possessed person? Skulking in a cave somewhere? Howling at the moon in the forest? Living with farm animals? This man was in church. By all appearances, this person man was a member of the synagogue in good standing. He was sitting in church just like you are. Apparently the unclean spirit could put up with the so-called experts in the law droning on about which scribe says this and which rabbi says that in regard to how thoroughly you had to wash your hands or how much you had to tithe out of your spice cabinet (Matthew 23:23-24). That kind of legalistic, work-righteous sermon didn’t bother the spirit at all. Sadly, there are millions of people in our world today sitting in synagogues and mosques and even heterodox churches who are suffering from unclean spirits of guilt and shame and fear and addiction – and they are finding no relief because unclean spirits aren’t exposed or expelled by rules and laws fabricated by men. Demons love man-made laws because they know that the law leads only to hell (Galatians 3:21-22). It wasn’t until Jesus showed up and taught as one who has authority – that the unclean spirit was exposed and expelled. It cried out, “What do we have to do with you, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are – the Holy One of God!” Jesus rebuked the spirit, saying, “Be quiet! Come out of him!” The unclean spirit shuts up and with an unholy scream comes out of the man. Jesus got the last word.

That’s amazing, but do you know what’s even more amazing? How Jesus earned the right and authority to have the last word – even over the demons of hell. He didn’t accomplish our salvation by exercising his absolute power and authority but by giving it up (Philippians 2:6-8). He wasn’t born and raised in royalty but poverty. He wasn’t praised but despised by the masses. He didn’t prove his authority over an apostate church and a wicked government by leading a rebellion against them but by submitting to them. He didn’t assert his equality to God by coming down from the cross but by crying out My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46) He didn’t show his power over those who crucified him by calling down fire from heaven to consume them, but by praying for them: Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing (Luke 23:34). He didn’t crush sin, death and the devil by calling upon the legions of angels at his disposal (Matthew 26:53) but by gasping with his last breath Father, into your hands I commit my spirit (Luke 23:46). And, while his shameful crucifixion was visible to all, his glorious resurrection was hidden from the sight of all but a relative few eyewitnesses.

Why? Why did Jesus cloak his power and authority in humility and shame? He did it for us! He became our sin so that we might become his righteousness (2 Corinthians 5:21). He endured the curse of God (Galatians 3:13) so that we could receive his blessing. He was cut off from fellowship with his Father so that we could be reconciled to God as his children. And having given up all authority to bring us back to God, Jesus took up his authority again so that just like with that possessed man he comes to us and says “Be quiet and come out of them. These people belong to me. I kept the commandments on their behalf. I suffered the punishment they deserved. I rose to life and I will raise their broken, disease-ridden bodies to life when I return!” Just as easily as Jesus freed that man from his unclean spirit with just a word he can free you from whatever unclean spirits afflict you today. Whereas living as if you have the last word gets you only doubt and despair and death; letting Jesus have the last word leads to peace and freedom and life.

To put it another way, Jesus has “the say.” You know about “the say,” right? When it’s your birthday you get “the say” on what everyone eats for supper. The head coach gets “the say” on whether to go for it on 4th down or kick the field goal. The officer has “the say” on whether to write a ticket or not. In the same way, Jesus has “the say” on right and wrong, on sin and guilt, on life and death – even on whether you and I will go to heaven or hell.

And today, right here and right now, Jesus gives his “say,” his last word, to you. He says that baptism has ripped you out of the devil’s kingdom and adopts you into God’s family – and so you are God’s child today, tomorrow, and every day (Galatians 3:26-27). He says whenever you forgive people’s sins, they are forgiven (John 20:23) – and so you are forgiven! He says that by eating his body and drinking his blood with a believing heart you receive the gift of eternal in heaven (1 Corinthians 11:23-26) – and no virus or disease or sickness or death can steal that gift from you. He sends you out of this house into this dark and confusing world with his blessing (Numbers 6:22-27) – and so, wherever you go from here – you are blessed!

From the moment the devil led Eve to believe his last word over God’s Word to the end of time – people will fight over who gets the last word. Today, Jesus proves that the last word is his and his alone. By giving up all authority to come to earth to suffer, die and rise Jesus has in fact won authority over all things: including sin, death and the devil. Let the devil, the world and your own sinful flesh scream all they want; in the end, Jesus will have the last word, and his last word to you will one day be: come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world (Matthew 25:34). Amen.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Echo_(mythology)

[2]https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Echo#:~:text=Echo%20was%20an%20Oread%2C%20a,last%20word%20in%20all%20conversations.&text=You%20shall%20still%20have%20the,'

Mark 1:14-20 - Repent, and Believe in the Gospel - January 24, 2021

“What’s the problem in this text?” That’s one of the first questions our seminary trains us to ask when we approach a portion of Scripture as we begin the sermon-writing process. Technically speaking, it’s called the malady of the text. You find the malady and then you can look for the solution to the malady the text provides. So, what’s the problem or the malady in this text? Is it that John the Baptist was put in prison? Is it that today there are too few people who respond to Jesus’ call to discipleship like Simon, Andrew, James and John did? Is it that we don’t have enough “fishers of men” to evangelize those who need to hear the Gospel? While all of those are problems, they aren’t THE problem – at least not in this text. No, the problem in this text – and its solution – is revealed in just one phrase repent, and believe in the gospel.

Repent, Jesus commands. What’s the problem with repentance? It’s that we are often too specific when we should be general. We think our problem is limited to a specific sin or sins. We’ve failed to do this good thing or we’ve done this bad thing. Our problem with others is that we have a short temper or that we are quick to speak instead of quick to listen. Our problem with our spouse is that we don’t love them the way we should. Our problem with our kids is that we don’t have enough time for them. Our problem with our government is that we could do it better than those in authority. Our problem with life is that we drink too much or give in to lust or rage or greed or that we read our Bibles too little.

If that were true, if it were just a case of failing to do the right thing or actively doing the wrong thing, then the solution would be easy: just do the opposite: start doing what is right and stop doing what is wrong. If my temper is short, I’ll just count to ten; if don’t love my spouse enough, I’ll just start loving more; if don’t have enough time for my kids, I’ll make more time; if I’m filled with lust, I’ll stop visiting those websites; if I can’t say anything nice about the government, I won’t say anything at all. If only it were that easy! If only we could become better people, God-pleasing people, just by changing our behavior. If we only had a couple of superficial flaws, it would be so easy to find the solutions. And that’s the real problem. The real problem is that we delude ourselves into thinking that it is that easy. We think that our problem is so specific, so limited – that if we just change a few specific attitudes or behaviors we’ll have solved the problem. But our real problem is so much bigger than that.

Where is this in our text? In one word: repent. Notice that Jesus doesn’t say: “Repent of your bad language or your lustful thoughts or your loveless actions.” By not mentioning any specific sin, he’s teaching us that our problem is much bigger than what we do, think or say; Jesus is showing that the problem is us, our fallen, sinful nature.

Then why are we so prone to thinking that we only need limited, specific repentance? Because by nature, we can’t possibly comprehend the depth of our sinfulness. We’re like a person suffering from stage 4 lung cancer who thinks that giving up cigarettes will solve the problem. We’re so sick we can’t see how sick we are. God must reveal it to us. And he does it through passages like Jeremiah 17:9 the heart is more deceitful than anything. It is beyond cure. Who can understand it? And Romans 3: there is no one who is righteous, not even one. There is no one who understands. There is no one who searches for God. They all turned away; together they became useless. There is no one who does what is good; there is not even one (Romans 3:10-12). Without the Word of God, we can delude ourselves into thinking that we’re basically good people who only have a few flaws here and there. But God’s Word reveals the truth: we aren’t inherently good; we are evil and unrighteous and godless to the core.

To put it another way – we’re not sinful because we sin; we sin because we’re sinful. Jesus uses the illustration of a tree and its fruit in Matthew 7: every good tree produces good fruit, but a bad tree produces bad fruit. A good tree cannot produce good fruit, and a bad tree cannot produce good fruit (Matthew 7:17-18). Our fallen, natural thinking reverses it. We think that a basically good person kills someone and becomes a murderer; a mostly faithful person has an affair and becomes unfaithful; an honest person steals something and becomes a thief. But that’s not how it works in God’s eyes. The problem is much bigger and much deeper. The problem is the heart. It’s not that we’re basically good, moral and honest until we do something wrong – no, there’s a murderer, a thief, an adulterer living inside each one of us – and sometimes it comes out. When Jesus calls on us to repent, he is leading us to a blanket, general confession like Paul’s: I know that good does not live in me, that is, in my sinful flesh (Romans 7:18).

Do you see how big the problem is? It’s way too big for us to handle. We can modify our behavior all we want – coming up with all sorts of routines and techniques to try to adjust the way we live – but until we admit that our real problem is our rotten, rebellious sinful hearts we have not really repented and none of our marriage, family or personal problems will be solved. And, to make matters worse, there is nothing we can do, no strategy we can employ, no vaccine we can take to change our hearts.

By now, you’ve probably already guessed that the solution is found in the words believe in the gospel. Which is true – the only way we can be saved is through faith (Mark 16:16) – but even here we have a problem – the opposite problem. With repentance, our problem is that we’re specific when we should be general. With faith, the problem is that we’re general when we should be specific.

We can be led to think that a general, generic faith is the answer. We might look at Simon and Andrew and James and John and think “Wow, what great faith they had to leave everything behind to follow Jesus. If I had faith that strong, I could do that too!” Beware of this trap. If you fall into thinking that generic faith is the answer – all you’ll do is beat yourself up because you don’t have enough faith. You’ll start telling yourself: “If I had more faith, my marriage would work, my job would be better, my children would behave. If I had more faith, then I wouldn’t commit this or that sin. I would be able to change my behavior.” Do you see the problem? When you focus on faith as the answer to your problem, you always come back to changing your behavior, to something you must do as the solution. And, as we proved before, that’s no solution.

Our problem isn’t that our faith isn’t strong enough; it’s that it’s not specific enough. Everyone believes in something and often their faith is strong. But generic “faith” can’t save anyone. I’ll give you a couple examples. For months now we’ve been told to believe that social distancing and wearing masks can solve the pandemic – and yet, according to the numbers provided by the very same people who told us that, it’s as bad as it’s ever been right now – faith in masks has not saved anyone. If blind faith saved, then Muslims who blow themselves up for Allah would be saved; then Mormons who have so much faith that they spend two years of their lives on mission trips would be saved; then the Bears would be headed to the Super bowl because their fans have believed for decades. Faith can excite, motivate and even comfort – but no one has ever or will ever be saved just because they had faith in something. Faith that saves has a very specific object.

Jesus teaches this. After commanding us to repent generally he commands us to believe, specifically to believe in the gospel. So the question is: what is this specific gospel we’re supposed to believe? The word “gospel” was not originally a Christian word. It was instead the “good news” of a military victory. Picture it. An enemy army is bearing down on your city. You’re huddled in your home with your family in your barely defensible city. Your army is outside the walls – as a last line of defense. If they are defeated, the enemy will easily charge through the gates and you’ll be killed and your family will be sold into slavery. There’s no CNN, no nightly news or daily papers – and, mercifully, no Twitter. Everyone in that city is waiting on edge for word from the front. The watchmen at the gates would see him first and then turn to announce his arrival to the entire city. The entire city would gather at the gates. The runner, exhausted, if there was victory to announce, would gasp: “I have gospel / good news (εὐαγγελίῳ)!”

The gospel is not just any good news, but the good news of victory. Specifically Jesus’ victory over sin, death and the devil. This is a victory that only Jesus could win. Being conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary, he was not born with a sinful nature like we are and therefore he was able to keep all of God’s laws perfectly. He picked up all Ten Commandments and was a perfect father, mother, husband, wife, child and citizen in your place. Then he picked up your sins and suffered God’s wrath to pay for them on the cross. He rose again to declare you justified, “not guilty” before God (Romans 4:25). And he delivers his victorious life and death to you through the Gospel in Word and Sacrament. And the result is that through faith in this very specific Gospel, Jesus cures you from the inside out. As Paul said in our second lesson: if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away. The new has come! (2 Corinthians 5:17) And he didn’t do all of that just to turn around and tell you that all he did was make it possible for you to save yourself; that his life is nothing more than an example for you to follow; to show you how a tweak here or there can solve your problems. That wouldn’t be good news. Anyone who thinks that Christianity is about behavior modification doesn’t really understand the gospel. The gospel is not about us, it’s about Jesus living a perfect life and dying an innocent death for us. That’s the gospel. That’s the solution to all of your problems – especially your biggest problem: you. That’s the very specific thing that you are to believe, the only specific thing that saves.

What’s amazing then is that once you have this cure, your life, your behavior, your attitudes do change as a result. (Remember: make the tree good and it will bear good fruit!) Did you notice how it changed the people in our text? Jesus came to everyday, ordinary people – fishermen who were just like us: struggling with sinfulness, with difficult jobs and complicated lives. And he announces to them that things are different now. No longer is God or his kingdom far away from them because of their sinfulness. He doesn’t say that the kingdom of God is near – he says the kingdom of God has [already] come near. It has arrived! In other words, Jesus is telling them to repent of thinking that they can reach God by being better, by sinning less, or by doing more good works – and to instead believe the good news that Jesus has come to win the victory and bring the kingdom of God to us.

And this message changes these men instantly. Jesus says, come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they go…immediately. Simon and Andrew instantly leave their livelihoods behind to follow Jesus. James and John leave their father standing in his boat to become fishers of men. This gospel, this good news, had an instant and dramatic impact on their lives. By first changing their hearts, by creating saving faith – it also changed their behavior, it changed their lives for the better. This is the power of the gospel.

During the season of Epiphany, we get to peek behind the curtain to see who Jesus really is. Today, we see him as one who brings a message so profound and so powerful that it could only come from one who is the Son of God in human flesh. Repent, he says – not just of the things you do but of who you are: a natural born sinner. And then: believe in the gospel – don’t believe just anything, believe that in his person Jesus has brought the kingdom of heaven to earth; that he has come to win the victory over sin and sinfulness once and for all by his death and resurrection. For a problem as big as ours – nothing less will do. Amen.

John 1:43-51 - "Come and See" Evangelism - January 17, 2021

Benjamin Franklin is famous for many things. He was one of the founding fathers of the United States. He invented the lightning rod and bifocals. He was the first U.S. ambassador to France. He founded the Pennsylvania Gazzette and the University of Pennsylvania. He’s on the $100 bill. But did you know that Ben Franklin created a revolutionary evangelism program? Yep. When he was a colonel in the Pennsylvania Militia during the French and Indian War, one of his chaplains complained that his services were not well attended. Franklin advised him to arrange for the soldiers’ weekly rum ration to be distributed from the chapel after the end of the service. The chaplain followed his advice and from then on the services were packed. [1] If our goal here at Risen Savior is to simply pack the place, then we might want to think about trying Ben Franklin’s evangelism program. But if our goal is to gather the Lord’s disciples, as he commanded (Matthew 28:19), we should use our Lord’s program – called “Come and See” Evangelism.

The biggest benefit of this program is that it is clearly, undeniably Biblical. In our text, Jesus finds Philip and Philip finds his friend Nathanael and says come and see! In fact, the day before, John the Baptist saw Jesus and pointed two of his disciples to follow him, including Andrew, who immediately found his brother Peter and said we have found the Messiah! (John 1:35-42) Within two days of its implementation, this “come and see” program grew the NT church from zero to five – a 500% increase! But there’s a problem with the “come and see” Evangelism Program. You know what the problem is? There’s just not that much to come and see here at Risen Savior. What do we have? A guy in a black gown standing behind something called a pulpit. A bowlful of tap water. Some bread and wine. That’s not much to see. You know what attracts people as well as I do. If we had big miracles going on here: people being healed of their diseases, demons being cast out, people babbling in tongues, now that would be worth the price of admission If we had marriage building, child raising, and stock investing classes, retirement and substance addiction seminars – then we’d have something worth seeing! Or if we had an impressive praise band and professionally produced videos and lighting – then we’d really have something for people to see. But, we don’t have any of those things. In fact, what we have here are things that are downright embarrassing to those on the cutting edge of religion and to our technologically advanced society. We don’t have a Theology of Glory that promises earthly comfort and prosperity in exchange for your commitment to Jesus; we have a Theology of the Cross; we preach Christ and him crucified (1 Corinthians 2:2) and that all who follow him will need to pick up and carry their own crosses (Matthew 16:24). And that’s the real problem. Because most people don’t want to follow a path of humility and shame but a path of glory and prosperity they aren’t attracted to a Savior who lives and dies in humility and suffering.

But that begs the question: was it any different when Jesus walked on this earth? Philip invites Nathanael to come and see Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. Does it get any more ordinary than that? Philip didn’t invite him to come and see Jesus, the Son of God or the miraculous son of the virgin Mary. Philip asks Nathanael to come and see the painfully ordinary Jesus, the carpenter’s son. Actually, it was worse than that. Jesus wasn’t just ordinary, he was below average. He was from Nazareth. Even Nathanael knew that nothing good could come from there. Anyone worth seeing wouldn’t come from Nazareth, but somewhere exciting, like Jerusalem. Those first disciples were faced with the same problem we are: God cloaked in flesh and blood is no more attractive, no more worth seeing than God cloaked in water, words, bread or wine. The Jesus they invited people to come and see was no more inviting, no more attractive, no more powerful, no more entertaining than the Jesus who dwells among us in Baptism, Absolution and Communion. Whether He wraps himself in flesh and blood or in bread and wine and water and words, God can easily be despised as ordinary, as nothing worth rolling out of bed to come and see.

And so you know what the temptation is, right? The temptation is to dress up the ordinary Jesus. To transform Jesus into what the world – and, honestly, part of each of us – wants him to be: glorious and powerful, granting health and wealth and happiness and social status to those who follow him. It can be so tempting to dismiss a Jesus who comes to us in objective means of grace for a Jesus who subjectively touches our emotions and makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It can be so tempting to exchange a Jesus who brings the forgiveness of sins, deliverance from death and the devil, and eternal salvation in favor of a Jesus who brings a boost to your self-esteem, peace to your marriage or success to your career. And this is exactly what the devil wants us to do. The devil, even when Jesus walked on this earth, led people to demand that Jesus prove himself with visible and extraordinary signs and miracles (Luke 4:23). But Jesus didn’t do it then and he won’t do it now.

Which means that we are to invite people to come and see the same ordinary Jesus that the first disciples did. But do you know what’s good about ordinary? Ordinary is approachable. Ordinary is personal. Have you ever heard someone who met a celebrity and commented: “I can’t believe how ordinary, how down to earth he or she was.” Did you notice how Jesus went out of his way to find Philip? Philip wasn’t left to find his way to Jesus – no, Jesus went out of his way to round up his sheep. And did you notice how intimately Jesus knew Nathanael? “Before Philip called you, while you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” Jews of the day often found the shade and solitude offered by fig trees as a good place for devotion and prayer. Jesus gives a flash of his divinity by telling Nathanael that even before Philip found him, Jesus saw him and knew him through his prayers and devotions.

And isn’t this type of personal touch exactly what so many people today are really longing for today? In this age of zoom meetings and virtual learning, of big tech companies that know everything and nothing about you – the fact that Jesus knows his sheep, knows them by name (John 10:27), is something worth seeing. In a strange time when nearly all human contact is prohibited by health departments, Jesus still sends his flesh and blood pastors to preach his word, he gathers real human people together to worship and pray together, and he comes among us in words we can hear, water we can touch bread and wine we can taste. This kind of Jesus, a very approachable, personal Jesus, is exactly what the people of the 21st century need to come and see.

Furthermore, this Jesus, according to Scripture, knows us better than we know ourselves (Psalm 139:16). Modern life is incredibly complicated. People get themselves into jams and caught up in messy situations without every understanding how they got there. We have a Jesus who knows the most intimate details of your life; a Jesus to whom your life is not just a jumbled mess; a Jesus who knows how to lead his sheep out of the most complicated, confusing situations. Of course, that’s because he knows that the messes, the jams, the impossible situations people find themselves in are always related to sin. Whatever challenges, issues, conflicts people are facing today, sin is the source (Genesis 3:14-19). Sadly, too many think that they can only come and see Jesus once they have their lives straightened out. The truth is that we have a Jesus who invites sinners, real, dirty, despicable sinners, to come and see him. He invites a naïve nobody like Nathanael (John 1:45). He invites self-righteous Pharisees like Nicodemus (John 3), immoral people like the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4), tax collectors and prostitutes and fishermen – people who were despised and scorned by the society of their day.

He invites guilty and downtrodden and depressed people like that to see what great things he has done for them. Jesus tells Nathanael you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that!” Then he added, “Amen, Amen, I tell you: You will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” This is an obvious allusion to Jacob’s dream in Genesis 28 when he saw angels ascending and descending on a stairway to heaven (Genesis 28:10-17). The point Jesus is making is that Nathanael would see a place where there is no barrier between heaven and earth, between a holy God and sinful people. Where is this place? It’s wherever Jesus is. Because wherever Jesus is, the barrier of sin has been removed and sinners are reconciled to God (2 Corinthians 5:19). That place is right here where Jesus carries out this work of reconciliation week after week through baptism, absolution and communion.

People need to know – people you know need to know – that this place exists. Because the natural human setting is to believe that heaven is shut to sinners. Sure, they may believe that you can reach God if you have enough love, faith and good works. They may believe that you can approach him if you are clean enough, religious enough, or faithful enough. But most people – and people you know – don’t know of a place on earth where heaven is wide open to sinners. They don’t know of the place Jesus guarantees to be with his people (Matthew 18:20). They don’t know of a place where sin is fully and freely forgiven week after week (John 20:23). They don’t know of a place where Jesus invites the weary and burdened to come to him for rest (Matthew 11:28).

But before you start thinking about who you’re going to invite to come and see this Jesus, make sure that you come and see him first. Did you notice that? No one invites others to come and see Jesus until they’ve seen him themselves first. If you leave here today with nothing else – I pray you leave with this: that you see Jesus clearly first.

He’s NOT a Jesus who is desperate to have his church filled. Nowhere in the NT do you find a hint, a suggestion of the fear that haunts the church today (that, sadly, comes from the highest levels of our own synod): that if we don’t get more members the church will die. Give me a break. If the gates of hell can’t overcome the church (Matthew 16:18), declining membership can’t. Furthermore, Jesus commanded the church to feed his sheep (John 21:17), not count them. We don’t invite others to come and see for our sake, for the sake of the church, or for Jesus’ sake, but for their sake. We invite them to come to see the powerful Good Shepherd who knows his sheep before they know him (John 10:1-18), not a Jesus who stands here wringing his hands, hoping and pleading that someone, anyone would pay attention to him. A whiny, needy, pleading Jesus – now that’s a Jesus who’s not worth going and seeing.

The Jesus you should see today is not a needy God, but a God for the needy. He promises to not only meet our needs but to exceed them. Jesus told Nathanael that he would see greater things than that. What were those things? He would see Jesus bring heaven to earth in his preaching and teaching, his healing and his miracles. He would see Jesus tear down the barrier of sin that stood between us and God by his death on the cross. He would see Jesus crush death and the devil by his resurrection. He would see Jesus ascend into heaven where he lives and reigns forever. He would see this good news transform the hearts and lives of thousands of sinners. And this is the same Jesus that you get to see here week after week.

We don’t need rum to attract people to church – because we have something so much better: we have Jesus, we have a Savior, and we have the means of grace through which he promises to be with us, forgiving and saving us. And when you see Jesus’ presence clearly in water and the Word, in bread and wine, then you realize that evangelism isn’t complicated at all. It’s as simple today as it was for Philip 2000 years ago – come and see! No offense to Benjamin Franklin, but that’s our evangelism plan. Amen.

[1] https://www.massar.org/2019/02/17/rum-and-religion-benjamin-franklins-contributions-to-behavioral-psychology/

Matthew 2:1-12 - What Appears at Epiphany? - January 10, 2021

By now I’m sure we’ve all seen the video and pictures of those experiments where scientists use a UV light or a laser to show just how far the particles from your mouth and nose travel when you speak, sing or sneeze. With the UV light and high-speed video, they can see microscopic droplets that are hidden from the naked eye. While these experiments are nothing new, they’ve taken on new importance lately as scientists attempt to figure out just how the coronavirus spreads from one person to another. It’s pretty gross actually – one of those things you’d like to un-see if you could. Now, we’re not here to discuss the principles of droplet distribution. But just like that ultraviolet light, Epiphany reveals what would otherwise be hidden from human sight. The word Epiphany means “appearing.” So the question is: what appears at Epiphany?

The first and most obvious answer is: the Wise Men. And that’s true. The Wise Men did appear. They followed the star from the east to worship he who has been born King of the Jews. Who were they? Our best guess is that they were kingly advisers and astronomers like Daniel in Babylon (Daniel 2:48). Where did they come from? We don’t know – Arabia? Babylon? Persia? In any case, based on the fact that Herod murdered all the baby boys two years old and younger in Bethlehem (Matthew 2:16) – we’re pretty sure that they had been traveling for years and had come hundreds of miles. Why? That’s easy, they had heard a prophecy like the one we heard from Balaam in Numbers 24: a star will come out of Jacob. A scepter will rise up out of Israel (Numbers 24:17).

But do you know what else appears with the Wise Men on Epiphany? Shame. These Wise Men put you and me to shame. What? Why? Well, because I have far less distance to travel and far more to guide me to the King of the Jews and I don’t go; I don’t go to where he wants to be found. Jesus is as close to me as my Baptism, where he promises to cover my sinfulness with his righteousness – and yet I go around guilty and depressed because I go days and weeks without remembering that I have been baptized into Christ, that I no longer live but he lives in me (Galatians 2:20). He is as close as the words of Absolution in which God pronounces me “not-guilty” and yet I put more stock in what society or my conscience or the devil says about me. He’s as close as the bread and wine of Holy Communion which offers me eternal life, and yet I spend more time planning and preparing a normal meal that will just leave me hungry again in a few hours. The wise men had nothing more than a star in the night that drew them tirelessly through the darkness from hundreds of miles away; I have the brilliant and unwavering light of Scripture shining day and night, and yet I hardly ever crack it open to it to guide me through this dark world. The Wise Men rejoiced with overwhelming joy when they saw the star over Jesus’ house – I see coming to God’s house as a burdensome obligation.

The Wise Men put me to shame by their heartfelt worship. They saw in that humble, helpless baby in Bethlehem their King, their God and their Sacrifice – I am often less than sincere in worshiping him – even though I know him as my crucified, risen and victorious Savior. They came to find the king who would govern their lives and defeat their enemies – I prefer to rule my own life and fight my own battles. They came to find their God, I like to imagine that I’m my own god; I think that I should be feared, loved and trusted by all people above all things. They came to find the sacrifice for their sins; I figure that if I do a mediocre job in the various roles God has placed me in – God should be pleased with that.

The wise men shame me by the gifts they bring. These Wise Men knew so little about Jesus and all that he would do for them and yet they give him the very best they could offer: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. I’ve never once risked a mortgage payment, a tank of gas, or even a single meal to give my best to Jesus. Have you? I take care of myself and give Jesus my leftovers. And, what’s more, I demand to be recognized. I want everyone to know and praise and thank me. And, the moment the stock market takes a dive or my job looks like it’s at risk, the part of the budget that goes to Jesus is the first one to get cut off. What appears at Epiphany is my shame. Like an ultraviolet light, it exposes all of the disgusting things that are hidden in my heart.

Thank God that’s not all that appears at Epiphany – my salvation appears there too. My salvation from the three things which would otherwise rule my life appears. Did you notice how Epiphany put big, bad Herod in his place? The birth of a tiny baby sent him into a frenzy. He frantically gathered his advisers, interrogated the Wise Men, and sent them out as his spies – only to have his assassination plan foiled by God in a dream. Epiphany reveals a Savior from politics. Do we need this Savior today? Well, a new president is going to be inaugurated in 10 days. No matter which media outlet you listen to, they all make it seem like everything in the world hangs in the balance: war and peace, freedom and tyranny, prosperity and poverty, life and death. But King Jesus comes along and says “No! I am the Alpha and the Omega…the one who is, and who was, and who is coming (Revelation 1:8); I hold the scroll of history in my nail-pierced hands and I unroll it for the good of my people (Revelation 5:6-14).” He sits in heaven and laughs as the kings of the earth gather together against him and his people (Psalm 2:2-5). Let the politicians in Washington D.C. and Madison pretend to be all self-important, let them give their speeches and write their laws – and pray for them as they do so (1 Timothy 2:1-2) – but Epiphany reveals my Savior from the madness, because on Epiphany baby Jesus appears as my true, eternal, conquering King!

King Jesus not only saves me from politics but also from the great idol of our age: science (or, more accurately, the false religion of scientism[1]). We live in an age where so-called “science” and her high-priestly “experts” control everything. They decide who you are and what gender you are and where you may go and what you must wear and what you must inject into your body. They decide if you may operate your business, send your children to school, and attend worship. They tell us which types of cars to drive and what types of food to eat and what kinds of behaviors are socially and morally acceptable. They claim that they’ve got our world figured out and our only job is to kneel in their honor and offer unquestioning obedience to their commands.

But the appearance of the God-Man smashes the scientific idol to pieces. He blows away the theory that science is the only objective means to establish societal norms and rules for everything and everyone. He destroys the laws of time by stepping out of eternity into human history. He annihilates the laws of biology by being born of a virgin. His miracles defy the laws of nature. And ironies of ironies: the best and brightest scientists of the time, the Wise Men, follow a star that obeyed none of the laws of astronomy to find him. It appeared and disappeared; it moved and then stopped and stood still over the non-descript house of the non-descript parents of a non-descript baby – and even though it made no scientific sense whatsoever – they bow down and worship him. Epiphany shows me that I’m not at the mercy of what science and her “experts” can know or predict or theorize; that I’m not at the mercy of the laws of time, space or nature; I’m at the mercy of a God who left heaven to become a man in order to become my Savior.

And that’s a very good thing, because politics and science have proven time and again that they are powerless to save me from the last and greatest enemy of all: death (1 Corinthians 15:26). The wise men recognized that in this little baby they had found a Savior from death. How? With myrrh. Myrrh was used for three things in those days: for embalming, as a sedative, and for the anointing of the high priest (Exodus 30:29). Jesus was offered myrrh three times in his life. Here, at the house in Bethlehem, as a confession that as high priest he would offer himself once for all for the sins of the world (Hebrews 10:11-12). On the cross, where he refused to receive it so that he could feel the full wrath of God’s judgment against our sins (Mark 15:23). And Joseph and Nicodemus used it to wrap his body after his death (John 19:39). Epiphany reveals that my destiny is not and will never be determined by the power of politics, science or even death itself. My destiny has already been determined by the holy life and innocent death of that baby in Bethlehem. He has given us the final victory (1 Corinthians 15:57)! Because of him my sins can’t damn me, death can’t really kill me, and the devil can’t claim me. He is my Redeemer and my Lord and no one and nothing else can rule my life. I can blissfully ignore everything the politicians, the scientific experts, and even death says about me – because my Epiphany Savior has declared: because I live, you also will live (John 14:19).

And, finally, one last crucial element appears on Epiphany: our guide through life. That’s a pretty major theme in our text, isn’t it? How God used divine GPS to lead the Wise Men to the cradle of his Son? And yet, while the star and the dream certainly played a role – let’s not overlook the fact that it was the Word of God that led them both to Jerusalem and Bethlehem. We don’t need to look to the stars or to dreams for God’s guidance because we have his written Word in our hands. We heard a sample of this guidance in our second lesson from Paul’s letter to Titus. I’m going to provide a literal translation so you can hear it for yourself: for the grace of God has epiphanied, bringing salvation to all people. It trains us to reject ungodliness and worldly lusts and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope, that is, the glorious epiphany of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ (Titus 2:11-13). Those who ignore Jesus’ first Epiphany don’t live like this. They can only live in and for the here and now because there is nothing after this life for them. Those who have no hope of salvation can’t renounce worldly passions because this world is all they have. For them to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives is not to live at all because to them our Savior’s second coming doesn’t mean life and salvation but death and damnation. They must put their hope and their faith in politics and science because they don’t know about the King who reigns over both.

But, by God’s grace, we know better. God’s Word guides and energizes us as we live each day eagerly waiting for him to appear again in glory. We eagerly and energetically live self-controlled, upright and godly lives here and now because we know we’re not waiting for Someone to shove our faces in our sins to shame us but to lift up our heads because our redemption is near (Luke 21:28). We aren’t waiting for the latest, greatest hope of our political system but for the One who rules over all political systems for the good of his people (Ephesians 1:22). We aren’t waiting for Someone who can do only as much as science says is possible, but for the One who does what science says is impossible like being born of a virgin (Matthew 1:23), rising from the dead (Matthew 28:6) and raising us from the dead (2 Corinthians 4:14). Though hidden from the naked eye, Epiphany reveals that God’s Word is our only sure guide through life until our Savior appears again.

So what appears on Epiphany? Yes, some Wise Men appear from the east. But Epiphany isn’t about the Wise Men. Epiphany is about Jesus. Today Jesus appears as my King, my God and my Savior; he appears to wipe away my shame, to win my salvation, and to guide me through the darkness of this world until he appears a second time in glory. Happy Epiphany! Amen.  

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scientism

Luke 2:41-52 - Twelve-Year-Old Jesus - January 3, 2021

For people like us, people who are deeply interested in the life of our Savior, Jesus – there’s one thing that can be somewhat disappointing: compared to many far less important historical figures – even other Biblical figures – Jesus’ biography is exceptionally short. So short, in fact, that we recite nearly all of it every Sunday in the Nicene and Apostles’ Creeds. Jesus lived for 33 years on this earth. His life is recorded in the four Gospels. We are given a fairly extensive overview the last three years of his life: his public ministry, his suffering, death and the days following his resurrection. But out of the 89 chapters in those books, only four (Matthew 1 & 2, Luke 1 & 2) give us any insight into the first 30 years of his life.

As Jesus’ disciples, that might leave us hungering for more. Wouldn’t you love to know what kind of child Jesus was? Did He go to bed before his parents told him? Did he ask for extra vegetables at supper? What about his education? Did he know the answer before his teacher asked the question? Did his classmates resent him? How did he handle adolescence? When he joined his father, Joseph, in the carpentry business, was he exempt from the rule of measuring twice and cutting once? As a 20 something, was he a first century Jeff Bezos: did he grow his father’s business into the hottest thing since unleavened bread? Wouldn’t it be helpful for us to know more about Jesus’ life before his public ministry; wouldn’t it be filled with countless examples of how to do life right?

Since the first century AD, many authors have set out to satisfy those desires. One of the more famous is the Gospel of Thomas which contains all sorts of bizarre stories from Jesus’ childhood. (However, this Gospel dates no earlier than the 2nd century AD and was most certainly not written by Thomas.) But there are other, more modern authors who undertake the attempt to make Jesus into more of a practical example than Savior. You can find their ideas on Amazon and YouTube. They make Jesus into little more than a social justice warrior, a radical reformer, a model of leadership, a wise teacher, a marriage counselor, etc. These notions may sound good and helpful, the problem is that you won’t find Jesus as any of these things in the inspired Word of God. God didn’t give us his Word to satisfy our curiosity but to save our souls (John 20:31). So today, instead of speculating about the things we don’t know about Jesus’ life, we’re going to stick to the words of Luke’s Gospel and learn why he wanted us to know about this incident in his Son’s life.

The story itself is pretty straightforward, but it’s helpful to briefly review the background. Every year his parents traveled to Jerusalem for the Passover Festival. When he was twelve years old, they went up according to the custom of the Festival. Every culture has its traditions and customs, but this was different. In Deuteronomy 16 the Lord commanded: Three times a year all of your males are to present themselves before the LORD your God at the place that he will choose: at the Festival of Unleavened Bread, at the Festival of Weeks, and at the Festival of Shelters. (Deuteronomy 16:16) Jesus’ parents were devoted believers. Even though the law didn’t command Mary to attend these Feasts, she did. As for Jesus, we can’t know for sure whether he attended the feasts prior to this. But the fact that he attended this Passover Feast is important – because at the age of twelve a Jewish boy was considered a ben hathora, a son of the Law, and became responsible for keeping the ceremonial aspects of the Law of Moses. Now, the age of twelve wasn’t prescribed anywhere in God’s Law, it was simply Jewish tradition – thus we have no reason to establish 12 or any other age as the age at which a child suddenly becomes accountable to God.

As the story continues, think about where you would point the finger of blame. When the days had ended, as they were returning, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know it. Since they thought he was in their group, they went a day’s journey. Then they began to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem, searching for him. Who do parents blame when their children get lost? Their children. But as parents, we know better. We know that children are our responsibility. We know that when we lose track of them – it’s our fault. And that’s exactly the conclusion that Luke leads us to with his emphasis on Mary and Joseph’s lack of unawareness, presumption, and failure to check on Jesus. Maybe it sounds cruel to blame Mary and Joseph for losing the Son of God, but according to Luke, that’s what happened.

That Jesus was totally innocent in this situation is emphasized when we see where He was: not at the market drooling over the latest toy or with the other 12-year-olds playing pin the tail on the donkey. No, he’s in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Don’t picture Jesus standing on the broad temple steps, teaching hundreds of people. Rather, picture him in one of the surrounding areas, maybe a smaller classroom-type area, where the Jewish men and rabbis gathered to discuss Scripture. But even though Jesus’ goal wasn’t to amass an audience, that’s exactly what he got, because all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. It is amazing, although perhaps, for us, in a little different way. How does the Wonderful Counselor (Isaiah 9:6) ask and answer question from sinful, human teachers? How can the Creator of everything learn anything (John 1:1-4)? How can the perfect Son of God grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and with people? It’s utterly beyond our comprehension.

But more important than how is why. Why did the holy, sinless Son of God have to go to Jerusalem for the Passover and spend an additional three days learning in the temple courts? We aren’t the first ones to ask that question: when his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us this way? See, your father and I have been anxiously looking for you.” Mary seems to be on to something there, doesn’t she? Wasn’t Jesus obligated to honor and obey his parents as part of the 4th commandment? Well, yes! And he was – as his response demonstrates: Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be taking care of my Father’s business? We’ve already established that Jesus was perfectly innocent in regard to his being left behind in Jerusalem – that was his parent’s fault. But did you notice how Jesus cut right to the chase? It wasn’t really about him being lost or Mary and Joseph’s neglect. It wasn’t even about where Jesus was but what he was doing. By studying and learning and growing in his knowledge of Scripture, Jesus was obeying the 4th commandment: he was obeying his heavenly Father. Luke tells us that they did not understand what he was telling them. Do we?

Do we understand why Jesus had to be in the temple carrying out his Father’s business? Why he had to leave there and always be obedient to his parents? We’ll take the second question first. Most of us here have already experienced life as a twelve-year-old. I don’t know about you, but for me, most of it is a blur of school, grades, sports, getting into trouble, trying to get out of trouble, piano lessons, and countless other growing pains. I certainly did not spend my days in deep discussions of God’s Word and church was often the last place I wanted to be. I was not the perfect 12-year-old. Were you? Our nation’s laws and culture have conditioned us to think that children are not responsible for their actions – that for some reason, nothing you do before the age of 18 should count. But before God, that’s not true. The Ten Commandments apply to the one day old infant and the 90 year old great grandmother equally. Every time you and I talked back to our parents or cheated on a test or fought with our friends – we broke God’s Law and earned his eternal anger. And, apart from Jesus, we are still liable to pay for those sins with eternal death in hell. Jesus had to be in the temple that day, obeying the 3rd and 4th commandments perfectly in order to save us from our sins.

But there’s an even deeper, more profound answer to why we need this account; one that can be illustrated by our thoughts and actions during this past Advent and Christmas season. Did you eagerly take every opportunity to be here in God’s house to gladly hear and learn God’s Word over the past month – or did you place work and family and rest over and above God? Did you come, but only grudgingly – questioning why we need to have so many services? And I’m not just pointing a finger here; I’ll confess that I wasn’t always glad to be writing and preaching twice as often as usual. But how does that explain why Jesus had to be taking care of [his] Father’s business in the temple? Simple: because we haven’t. We haven’t – not as 12 year olds, not as 72 year olds – recognized that our obligation to God is far more important than our obligation to our families and friends and traditions and rest and relaxation. The fact that we haven’t taken care of our Father’s business, that we make up reasons not to, that often we really don’t want to, reveals that 12 year old Jesus possessed three things we won’t possess until heaven: perfect fear, perfect love, and perfect trust in God. Jesus was in the temple those days because his will was perfectly in line with his Father’s; he wanted only what his Father wanted and never wanted anything except why his Father willed. In that way this incident isn’t really about the 3rd commandment but the 1st – Jesus feared, loved and trusted his Father perfectly – and demonstrated it by his life – because we haven’t.

And so while it might be tempting to apply this account as nothing more than an example of what God expects and demands in the 3rd and 4th commandments; that’s not really what this text is about. By inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Luke is showing us that from the moment of his birth, through tween and teen and adolescent years and into adulthood, Jesus feared, loved and trusted God perfectly. Even set aside the full use of his power and glory, his wisdom and strength, to be born and to experience growing up as boy; even though he faced every challenge, every temptation, every excuse not to do his Father’s will – he did it, and not just as a twelve year old boy in the temple but as a thirty year old man who offered himself up to death on a cross. And he did it for you and for me – because we haven’t and we can’t.

We call this Jesus’ active obedience. And here is what gives us joy even as the lights and gifts of Christmas fade: before you were born, before you could ever decide to obey God, before you were ever taught one of the 10 Commandments – Jesus obeyed them for you. Even though we never asked for it, wanted it, or knew we needed his perfect life – Jesus lived it for us. And when he took us by the hand to the waters of Baptism – he said to you “here, dear brother or sister, here is my perfect life, the life my Father demands of you – take it as my free gift.” When we think back to being twelve years old – or twelve hours ago – we can hardly claim innocence and perfection. But because of Jesus, when God sees your 12 or 32 or 62 year old self – he see only the perfectly obedient life his Son lived and freely gave to you. And in a few minutes, Jesus will come to you with his true body and blood to assure you that now, for his sake, you, too, have God’s favor.

That is why Luke included this story in his gospel. That is what sustains our Christmas joy even as the others parts of the season begin to fade. That is why Jesus went to the Passover. That is why He stayed behind at the temple. That is why he was studying God’s Word. That is why he returned to Nazareth as an obedient son. That is why Mary treasured up all these things in her heart. He was conceived and born, he grew and obeyed, he suffered, he died, he rose, and he rules – for you. Amen.

Romans 8:31-39 - The Eternal Date Line - December 31, 2020

In 1522, the Victoria, a Spanish ship originally commanded by Ferdinand Magellan arrived in port at Cape Verde, Portugal. Three years earlier, it had left Seville, Spain and sailed to the west. It crossed the Atlantic Ocean, skirted past the tip of South America, traversed the Pacific and Indian Oceans, rounded the Cape of Good Hope at the horn of Africa, and returned home to Spain. This storm-beaten ship had just become the first vessel to sail around the world. But there was a problem. By their careful accounting, it should have been July 9th when they landed. But to the citizens of Cape Verde, it was July 10th. It seemed to them like they had lost a day. It left them scratching their heads. This mystery continued to prove problematic for world travelers for centuries, all the way until 1884, when representatives from all over the world gathered together to solve the problem. They did so by establishing the International Date Line – an invisible line which runs from the North Pole to the South Pole through the Pacific Ocean – a line which helps makes sense of time in every corner of the globe. [1]

In an even deeper and more profound way, we need a base line, or a date line, spiritually. Why? Well, because we live in times that don’t make much sense. Do you have the stomach for a brief review of the past year? The President was impeached by the US House of Representatives (and acquitted by the Senate). Kobe Bryant and his 13 year old daughter died in a helicopter accident just outside of Los Angeles. Jussie Smollet lied about being the victim of a hate crime in Chicago. Actress Laurie Loughlin pleaded guilty to conspiracy charges related to a college admissions scandal. George Floyd died in police custody – igniting riots throughout the country. The Washington Redskins became the Washington Football Team. That’s not even to mention the pandemic and the election. And those are just the global headlines. On a personal level, you may have experienced troubles with your car or your job or your family or your finances. You may want to describe 2020 the way Paul described his times: Trouble, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword. Just as it is written: For your sake we are being put to death all day long. We are considered as sheep to be slaughtered. Yep, that about sums up 2020, doesn’t it?

It doesn’t make any sense, does it? Especially for us. Aren’t we God’s people? Isn’t he all-powerful and all loving? Shouldn’t he be there to rescue us before our lives fall apart? Shouldn’t he prevent pandemics – or at least protect his people from them? Where is he when the simple act of coming to church is made to feel like an illegal act of rebellion? Where is he when law-abiding people are punished and rioters are praised? Where is he when government officials advise us not to celebrate Christmas with friends and family? [2] Where was God in 2020 and where will he be in 2021?

Questions like those illustrate our need for something solid, something definite, a date line that can help us navigate the perils of the present and the uncharted waters of the future. Because, to be honest, in all likelihood 2021 will contain just as much trouble and distress and persecution and danger for us. As we look ahead to the New Year, it would be very easy to be afraid – especially with so many voices telling us that the darkest days are ahead of us. Will the lockdowns continue? When will you be able to visit your elderly loved ones in nursing facilities? When will children go back to school in person? Will there be more rioting and looting this year? Will things ever go back to “normal”? With so many apparent reasons to be afraid in 2021, what we need most of all is something solid, something objective, something to make sense of it all.

Thankfully, in the words before us this evening Paul points us to the date – and more importantly, the person – who can make sense of our times. We might call it the “eternal date line.” It is the reference point for all of history. And you know what that date is. It’s the date we just celebrated. It’s Christmas – not Christmas 2020 but the original Christmas that took place in Bethlehem 2000 years ago. While the devil and the world have done their best to obscure the real meaning of this date with reindeer and fat men in red suits, they haven’t succeeded. Christmas is still about one thing: the incarnation of our Lord. Christmas marks the date that the eternal God broke into human history, to begin executing his grand plan of salvation by doing the unthinkable: by taking on human flesh. Even our calendars recognize the supreme importance of this date: every year before that first Christmas is identified as BC “Before Christ” and every year after, until the end of time, are AD, anno domini, “The Year of our Lord.” The world around us may misuse and abuse and ignore what God did for us on Christmas – but even they can’t ignore the fact that all of history revolves around Christmas.

The question is: how does birth of a baby boy, to a poor virgin mother with no human father, in a manger, announced by an angelic army to a bunch of dirty shepherds make sense of our times and provide the solution to all of our problems – past, present, and future. The answer is that the eternal Son of God didn’t just enter our time and space as a tourist, to explore our planet – he did it to take upon himself all of our sins, the senseless rebellious things we’ve done – past, present, and future – and to suffer their eternal consequences on the cross. Paul puts this profound truth very simply: God did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all. Isaiah elaborates, and his words are well worth pondering: surely he was taking up our weaknesses, and he was carrying our sufferings. We thought it was because of God that he was stricken, smitten, and afflicted, but it was because of our rebellion that he was pierced. He was crushed for the guilt our sins deserved. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all have gone astray like sheep. Each of us has turned to his own way, but the LORD has charged all our guilt to him (Isaiah 53:4-6). Christmas marks the date that God kept the promise he first made to Adam and Eve (Genesis 3:15) to send a Savior from sin, death and the devil. That’s why Christmas matters. That’s why Christmas is the most important event that has ever happened – and will ever happen – in this world – yes, even more important than Magellan’s ship circumnavigating the globe and even more important than the development of a vaccine for Covid-19. Christmas isn’t just the baseline for our calendars – it’s the bedrock of our eternity.

But still, how does that really help us as we step into 2021? Can Christmas help us understand what the New Year holds? Well, yes and no. No, Christmas doesn’t tell us what 2021 holds for our world, our nation, our state, or for you personally. But Christmas does tell us where God will be in the New Year: what then will we say about these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Indeed, 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? Who will bring an accusation against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies! Who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus, who died and, more than that, was raised to life, is the one who is at God’s right hand and who is also interceding for us! Christmas has profound implications for us in the New Year. Do we fear new restrictions on our freedom to worship or some other form of religious persecution? God is for us – it doesn’t matter who’s against us. Are we concerned that our economy or our personal finances are going to be ruined? We shouldn’t, because the same God who gave us his Son promises to give us everything we need for life in this world. As we turn the calendar over, do sins of the past haunt you? Do you lay awake at night sweating through the accusations of the devil and your own conscience? Those are empty accusations, because God has already justified you – declared you “not guilty” – for Jesus’ sake. Do you fear that 2021 might be the year God calls you or someone you love home to heaven? There’s no reason to fear death, because Jesus rose from the dead, is interceding for you and will greet you by name at heaven’s gates.  

Now, don’t misunderstand, this doesn’t mean that 2021 is guaranteed to be a wonderful year. It doesn’t mean that it will be free from pain, loss, hardship and suffering…or lockdowns and facemasks and virtual learning. This world is still broken. You and I (and all the people around us) are still broken, fallen sinners. There’s no reason to believe that the political and racial and economic divisions in our nation will be healed. There’s no reason to believe that Covid-19 will suddenly vanish. There’s no guarantee that things will ever go back to “normal.” In 2021 we may experience sickness and suffering, injury and illness; we may have family, financial and health issues. We will make bad decisions and suffer the consequences. But Christmas proves that those problems – problems which may appear to separate us from God’s love – will not prevail. God’s love will prevail. No matter what the New Year brings, you can be sure that it is filled with God’s love for you – and for proof you need look no further than Bethlehem’s manger and Calvary’s cross – there God proved his love for us by giving us and then giving up his only begotten Son.

There’s a story about the 19th century preacher Charles Spurgeon when he was traveling through the English countryside. He passed by a barn with a weather vane on the roof, and on the weather vane were inscribed the words “God is love” (from 1 John 4:16). Noticing this, Spurgeon stopped and pointed to the weather vane and commented to his companion: “Does he think God’s love is as changeable as the weather?” His companion replied, “Of course not! You miss the point. Those words are on that weather vane because no matter which way the wind is blowing, God is still love!” Yes, he is. And so, in closing, I would ask you to join me in reading Romans 8:38-39 – which can serve as a fine motto for us as we embark on a New Year: I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, neither things present nor things to come, nor powerful forces, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. We are living in senseless times. But Jesus makes sense of our times and all times. He’s the reason that no matter what happens 2021 will be a Happy New Year! Amen.  

[1] https://www.timeanddate.com/time/dateline.html#:~:text=Drawn%20up%20in%201884,D.C.%20where%2026%20countries%20attended.

[2] https://www.nbcchicago.com/news/coronavirus/midwest-governors-release-holiday-message-urge-residents-to-avoid-travel-amid-pandemic/2395518/