Luke 19:28-40 - On Palm Sunday, Don't Mistake the King you Want for the King you Need - April 10, 2022

By all appearances and for all practical purposes, Jesus seems like he’s finally made it today. Palm Sunday is the only day in his entire life when “All Glory, Laud, and Honor” are given to him; the one and only time the crowds come to him – not looking for free food or healthcare (or to try to kill him), but to hail him as the King who comes in the name of the LORD. Today Jesus looks every bit the King he claimed to be. But there’s a caution for us on Palm Sunday: don’t mistake the King you want for the King you need.

Undeniably, Palm Sunday is very “regal,” very “royal,” isn’t it? Exhibit A: Jesus is finally acting like a king should act. Kings send their servants to do their bidding – and Jesus sends two of his disciples to retrieve a colt. Kings don’t ask for permission to use their subject’s property, they requisition it – and Jesus tells his disciples to say the Lord needs it. You may think that a donkey doesn’t appear to be a very kingly mode of transportation – Air Force One or at least a stallion might seem more appropriate – but it’s interesting to note that this is the only time in the Gospels where we hear that Jesus is riding at all; otherwise, he got where he was going the old-fashioned way: his own two feet. And when you combine this with Zechariah’s prophecy that Jerusalem’s true King would come into the city riding on a donkey (Zechariah 9:9) it’s clear that Jesus is making a statement with this mode of transportation: he was openly claiming to be the King of Jerusalem, the rightful successor of David, who would bring peace to Israel.

Exhibit B: the people went crazy. They loved it. This is what they’d been waiting centuries for. Just like cities throw parades for victorious sports teams today, the people of Jerusalem gave Jesus a welcome fit for a king. They threw their coats down, so that he rode into Jerusalem on a carpet. John says that they took palm branches and went out to meet him (John 12:13). The palm branch was like the national flag of Israel. Just as people wave the stars and stripes before the President today, so they waved their palms before their king. And this wasn’t blind or undeserved praise. Luke says the whole crowd of disciples began to praise God joyfully, with a loud voice, for all the miracles they had seen. They had seen him give the blind sight, feed thousands, defeat demons, heal lepers and, last, but certainly not least, they had seen him bring Lazarus back to life after he had been dead for four days (John 11).

Never before had Jesus received this kind of welcome. Never before had they publicly and boldly proclaimed all that Jesus had done. And, unlike before, Jesus accepts their praise. He doesn’t tell them to keep his miracles to themselves, as he had before (Luke 5:14). He didn’t turn around and go into hiding as he did after they tried to make him king after he fed the 5000 (John 6:15). He doesn’t tell them my kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36) as he would tell Pilate in a few days. In fact, Jesus tells his enemies that this praise is so fitting and necessary that if the crowds were silent the stones would cry out.

Today it looks like the baby born in a stable in Bethlehem and raised in the backwoods of Nazareth has finally lived up to the angelic hype. Finally, he has the glory, the crowds, the praise; finally, Jesus isn’t worshipped by just a few lowly peasants in rural Galilee but by a huge crowd in the capital city; finally, it seems Jesus has come to do something more effective and powerful than just preach and teach, he’s come to take power and control; finally, Jesus is acting like the king the people want.

This is the Jesus you will find proclaimed in many, if not most, churches. This is the powerful, life-changing Jesus who rescues people from their slavery to drugs and alcohol. The Jesus who came down from heaven to deliver people from the prisons of sickness and depression. The Jesus who will save your marriage, entertain and educate your children, get you that dream promotion or vacation, make sure you have more than enough money for retirement and liberate you from life’s greatest burdens: student and credit card debt. This Jesus sounds an awful lot like a politician. And doesn’t this Jesus sound great? Who wouldn’t want this kind of Jesus? This Jesus is helpful, useful, practical, and always relevant. Even the unbelieving world can get behind this Jesus.

Finally, Jesus was acting the way the people wanted him to…and that’s why that crowd grew so big so quickly – they thought he was getting ready to reestablish David’s throne in Jerusalem. Just a few verses before our text Luke tells us that because he was near Jerusalem…the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once (Luke 19:11). They were expecting Jesus to be the king they wanted; a king who would throw the Romans out of the Holy Land and restore prosperity and power to Israel. That’s the version of Jesus the world can – and does – gladly accept. No blood or suffering or cross. No Jesus who works through foolish instruments like Word, water, bread and wine. The biggest and trendiest churches wouldn’t dare mention that kind of Jesus. Why not? Because they know that this Jesus doesn’t fill seats or open wallets, they know that the world isn’t buying a crucified King.

But lest you think this is just a screed on how wrong the rest of the world is and how right we are, I have a confession to make: the Jesus the world wants…that’s the Jesus I want too. Is the same true of you? I don’t really want bloody Good Friday Jesus. I want glorious Palm Sunday Jesus. I don’t want a king who is rejected by the world, and says that the world will reject me too if I follow him (Matthew 10:22). I don’t want a Jesus who picks up a cross and then tells me that if I’m going to follow him I must pick up my own cross, too (Luke 9:23). I want a Jesus who stops at Luke 19:40. I want a superhero Jesus that I can brag about to my family and friends – not a bloody, beaten, loser Jesus who says that we must go through many troubles on our way to the kingdom of God (Acts 14:22). Isn’t it true that we often prefer the King we want over the one we need? Consider your prayer life. When you pray do you plead with Jesus to save you from God’s wrath or to save you from health issues and financial insecurity? What’s your attitude towards worship? Are you coming here with open hands to receive the gifts Jesus purchased with his blood or do you imagine that coming here is like putting coins into a divine vending machine to keep the blessings rolling out there? Perhaps the clearest and most shameful evidence is that like that first Palm Sunday this crowd – you – are here shouting praise to King Jesus in his glory, but where will this crowd – where will you – be on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday when King Jesus is betrayed and convicted and whipped and bleeds and dies? The truth is that if we want Jesus to be a King who comes to make this life and this world better, then we don’t want the real Jesus, the Jesus of the Bible. And this is more than just a mistake, this is sin, this is idolatry. It’s time to repent.

Repent for your own good; repent, change your mind about the King you want, because idol Jesus, the Jesus the world wants, the Jesus we often secretly want, won’t save anyone. There is no salvation to be found in a Jesus whose work ends at Luke 19:40. Sure, Jesus has done some wonderful miracles and preached some mesmerizing sermons and fulfilled some OT prophecies. But if Jesus’ work had stopped there, the devil would still control us, our sins would still condemn us, and we would still have every reason to fear death – because the yawning gates of hell would still be open. The Jesus who “makes” it in the world doesn’t make it as a Savior.  

It’s easy to make mistakes about Jesus on Palm Sunday because the appearances can be deceiving. He appears to march in as David’s legitimate heir who has come to be the earthly King the people want. But if you look past the palm branches and fawning crowds, you can see the real reason Jesus came. Jesus specifically sends his disciples to find a colt on which no one has ever sat. Why does that matter? In the OT, whenever there was an unsolved murder, whenever a dead body was found and no one knew who did it, God commanded the citizens of that city to find a heifer which had never been yoked, never been used for plowing, and slaughter it as an atoning sacrifice (Deuteronomy 21:1-9). They were to say atone, LORD, for your people whom you have redeemed (Deuteronomy 21:8). Through that heifer the Lord himself was atoning for the people’s guilt.  

Jesus isn’t riding into Jerusalem on a war horse to establish his kingdom on earth, he’s riding on a colt as the sacrifice for the sins of the world. He comes not to slaughter his enemies but to be slaughtered. Even as the crowds shout his praises and prepare to install him as King – he knows what really lies ahead: that he is going to be beaten, tortured and installed with nails onto a cross. He knows that the palm branches waving before him today will be replaced by the Roman whip ripping open his back. He knows that each step on that carpeted path is one step closer to Calvary where not only the religious establishment, not only the crowds, not only his disciples – but his own Father will disown him.

On Palm Sunday, it’s easy to be mistaken. It looks like Jesus comes to be the king the world wants. It looks like Jesus belongs on the throne so much that even the stones have to admit it. And the stones would. But they do not cry out today. No, when do the stones cry out? Good Friday! Only after Jesus is lifted up on the throne of the cross; only after the notice is nailed above his head identifying him as the King of the Jews (Luke 23:38); only after King Jesus has given up his spirit do the stones shake and quake and split in acknowledgement of the truth: oh, sorrow dread! God’s Son is dead! (Matthew 27:50-51 & CW 137:2)

In the end, not the Palm Sunday crowds but the Good Friday stones proclaim the King we need. We don’t need a Jesus who hangs out in a palace, we need a Jesus who hangs on a cross. A Jesus who is popular in the world wouldn’t want anything to do with you or me. We don’t have the power, the money, the looks, the talent, the charisma the world values and praises. A Jesus like that would be out of touch and out of reach for sinners like us. We need a Jesus who meets us where we are; who knows what it is to grieve and weep; who knows what it means to be weak and helpless; who is despised and hated by the world just like we are. When we are suffering, we find comfort in a King who suffers too. When we are burdened by sin and haunted by demons, we run to a King who knows sin’s burden and the devil’s fury. More than we need a King who is popular among this world’s elite, we need a King who isn’t ashamed to associate with sinners; because that’s what we are. Let the rest of the world have health and wealth and happiness Jesus; I need the Jesus who gave up his health and wealth and happiness to defeat sin, death and the devil in order to win eternal life for me.

This is the Jesus who saves the world. A Jesus who never suffered and died could save no one from death. A Jesus who is everything the world wants in a King would be no King at all – he would just be another lying politician. The world turns in disgust from this King and his wounds, his blood, his cross, his death. Nothing in the universe is more offensive to the world than Jesus the crucified King. The world might not want this Jesus who comes to Jerusalem on a donkey to die, but I do. Because there is nothing in the world I need more than for Jesus to suffer and die for my sins. May the Lord help us this Holy Week to never mistake the King we want for the King we need. Amen.

Matthew 27:51-54 - The Centurion - April 6, 2022

As we heard in the Passion History reading, it was dark on that first Good Friday (Matthew 27:45). But it wasn’t just a physical darkness; that the sun had stopped shining. This was a dark end for Jesus of Nazareth, the One the angel told Joseph was going to save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21). Not only couldn’t he save others, he apparently couldn’t even save himself. The jealously and greed and cowardliness and utter wickedness of man had conquered the One who had claimed to be the Son of God (Matthew 26:64). If he couldn’t overcome the evil schemes of man, how could he possibly be the Son of God? That’s a dark thought. It’s even darker when you consider that the institution that we look to for physical protection – the government – and the institution we look to for spiritual truth – the Church – colluded to falsely condemn and unjustifiably execute an innocent man. It was a dark day, that first Good Friday. And yet, tonight we will see that out of the darkness comes proof that Jesus truly is the Son of God.

The darkness of Good Friday is a stark contrast to the bright hope Jesus brought with him into this world. He had come to take the place of God’s other sons; sons who had proven themselves unfaithful. Adam was God’s first son, a son who through his rebellion he brought the darkness of sin and death into the world (Romans 5:12). Israel, God’s adopted son (Exodus 4:22), had been unfaithful. They had prostituted themselves to false gods (Exodus 32). Now Jesus, who had been proclaimed to be the Son of God at his birth by an army of angels (Luke 2:11), by the Father and the Holy Spirit at his Baptism (Luke 3:22), and again on the Mt. of Transfiguration by the Father (Luke 9:28-36) had arrived. And, for a time, it appeared that the light was extinguishing the darkness of sin and death. The number who believed in him grew by the day: Peter, Andrew, James, John, the rest of the apostles, the crowds. Jesus left a wave of healing and freedom and forgiveness and faith in his wake through his teaching and preaching and miracles. When Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the crowds acclaimed him as their King (Luke 19:38). The march of the light Jesus brought into this world seemed unstoppable.

Until it was brought to a sudden and abrupt halt – in just a matter of hours. The “church” – the religious establishment in Jerusalem – rejected Jesus as God’s Son and stirred up the crowds against him. Judas betrayed him. The other apostles abandoned him. Peter denied him. The Roman government, through Pontius Pilate, sentenced him to death. The crowds around the cross ridiculed him. Even the thieves being crucified with him insulted him (Mathew 27:44). Matthew only records one of Jesus’ words from the cross, words that are haunting even from the distance of 2000 years, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46) Even God had abandoned his only-begotten, beloved Son. And then he died. In darkness. Alone.

Well, not quite alone. There was someone there with him throughout the entire Good Friday ordeal: an unnamed Roman centurion. This Roman officer had likely been an eyewitness to everything that happened on that fateful Friday. He had seen and heard the mob shout for this man’s death while the governor maintained his innocence. He had viewed the whipping and humiliation of this man. He had ordered his men to drive nails through his hands and feet. He had ensured that he was dead by having a spear thrust into his side (John 19:34). And at the end of it all he came to a rather shocking conclusion: truly this was the Son of God. What can account for the change that took place in this hardened, Gentile soldier who specialized in executing humans in the most painful manner possible?

Three things. First, nature gave its testimony. Right in the middle of the day, at noon, the sun went dark – turning it’s back on this man. (And no, there is no natural, “scientific” explanation for this – solar eclipses last minutes, not hours and are impossible when it’s a full moon – as it always is at the Passover.) He felt the earth shake under his feet and saw rocks splitting open. He saw the world around him falling apart as the natural world bent its collective knee before its Creator and Preserver (Colossians 1:16-17).

He also heard testimony, not from Jesus’ friends but from his enemies. They were unwitting and unwilling witnesses, but they were witnesses nonetheless. His own boss, Pilate, had commanded that a sign be posted over his head, advertising not the crime he had committed – for he had committed no crime – but rather his identity: This is Jesus, the King of the Jews (Matthew 27:37). The chief priests, experts in the law, and elders mocked him from the foot of his cross, but even there they confirmed his identity as the King of Israel and the Son of God (Matthew 27:41-43). Even the passersby, who laughed at his claim to be able to destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days called him the Son of God (Matthew 27:40). You might be wondering how this mockery validates Jesus’ claim. I’m not suggesting that the centurion would have known this, but – for us at least – this is fulfillment of OT prophecy; specifically, the words of Psalm 22 written by King David 1000 years earlier: I am a worm and not a man, scorned by men and despised by the people. All who see me mock me. They sneer. They shake their heads. They say, “Trust in the LORD.” “Let the LORD deliver him. Let him rescue him, if he delights in him.” (Psalm 22:7-8) For the centurion, the mocking, taunting, and ridicule proved that this was not your run-of-the-mill political insurrectionist hanging from this tree.

But most powerful of all were the words that came from the victim’s own lips. His words of grace to those who had worked tirelessly to have him put to death and mocked him as he was dying: Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing (Luke 23:34); and to the thief who had mocked him: Amen, I tell you: Today you will be with me in paradise (Luke 23:43). He witnessed Jesus’ selfless love as he cared for his mother even as his life was being drained out of his body, drop by drop (John 19:26-27). He didn’t curse God, but cried out to him like an abandoned child: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mark 15:34) He heard him request a drink (John 19:28), not to numb the pain but so he could give the thunderous shout: it is finished (John 19:30). And, he witnessed something he had never, ever seen before: death did not take this man; this man summoned death: Father, into your hands I commit my spirit (Luke 23:46). The darkness had risen up to swallow up the light of life – but rather than drive this centurion into deeper darkness, this combined testimony brought him into the light; converting him from unbelief to faith in Jesus as the Son of God.

What does this centurion have to do with us? Well, the devil loves to sow the seeds of doubt in our minds regarding the eyewitness testimony of Jesus’ disciples, recorded in the Bible. “They were Jesus’ friends, of course they affirmed his teaching and his claims, you can’t believe them.” Or “The Bible is just a bunch of books written by men – many of them uneducated fishermen – how can you trust them more than the modern-day experts who allege that the Bible is at best contradictory and at worst just a myth?” Or maybe he takes a different tact; he uses our familiarity with the Gospel to deaden and deafen our ears to the astonishing claim that all four Gospel writers make: that on Good Friday, on that hill called Calvary, mankind – you and I included – mutilated, brutalized, and crucified the Son of God. If that claim makes no impact on you; if it doesn’t make you pause; if it can’t distract you from whatever is going on in the world out there or wondering about the weather or planning tomorrow’s schedule – then you’re even more lost in the darkness than that centurion.

It's good that tonight we have the opportunity to see and hear this all-important message from a new perspective. Tonight, we are looking at the cross through the eyes of a man who was an unbeliever, a Gentile, a Roman soldier. Tonight, we are looking at the core truth of the Bible’s message from the perspective of the enemy. And this adversarial testimony isn’t only found here. You can find it in the writings of the Roman historian Tacitus, in the accounts of the Jewish historian Josephus, and in the Babylonian Talmud. If you have more time on your hands than you know what to do with, go ahead and read them, they verify the claims of Jesus – just as much as the centurion does here.

What do they say to us? That Jesus really was a revolutionary activist who had unfortunately made himself some powerful and envious enemies? The centurion might have been a soldier, but he wasn’t dumb – he knew that the Jewish elites wouldn’t stay up all night to conduct a sham trial, wouldn’t willingly acknowledge Pilate’s authority, wouldn’t drag their fancy robes over the dusty road leading to Calvary just to mock a delusional fool. Do Jesus’ enemies tell us that Jesus was just a moral teacher? He may have taught about morality – but he claimed to be God – and moral teachers don’t tell lies of that magnitude. No, the eyewitness testimony of Jesus’ enemies like this centurion forces us to make a decision: is Jesus who he claimed to be or not? That is the challenge the Biblical witness issues to everyone who hears and reads it; that is the challenge the Biblical witness is issuing to you and me tonight. C. S. Lewis famously put it this way: “A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg – or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” (Lewis, C. S., Mere Christianity, London: Collins, 1952, pp 54-56).

My job is not to change your mind; my job is merely to present the evidence. Here’s the evidence: on a dark Friday on an ugly hill outside of Jerusalem, Jesus of Nazareth was crucified for claiming to be the Son of God. Nature attested to this claim. Jesus’ enemies went far, far out of their way to mock this claim. Jesus’ strange behavior and words from the cross confirmed this claim. This evidence convinced the centurion who executed Jesus that his claims were true, that truly [he] was the Son of God. How about you? Carefully consider the evidence that has been presented to you this Lenten season; your eternity depends on it. Amen.

Luke 20:9-19 - You Be the Judge - April 3, 2022

Many of today’s most popular TV shows are those that invite audience participation. From sports, where slow-motion replays invite the viewer to make their own judgment to the myriad of competitions and reality TV shows featuring people of questionable talent doing things of questionable value – but hey, you get to decide via text message who stays and who goes. Apparently people like the feeling of power that comes with judging. This fifth Sunday in Lent has historically been called Judica “Judgment” Sunday. Jesus is just days from the cross now, and in our text he calls on us to judge correctly.

It’s Tuesday of Holy week. Tuesday of Holy week was kind of like the media day before the Super Bowl – Jerusalem was packed with pilgrims who had come to celebrate the Passover and Jesus is in the temple courts accepting interviews and challenges from both friend and foe and teaching the people about the events that would soon be happening. The Jewish leaders question his authority to be teaching and he responds with this parable. A man planted a vineyard and handed it over to farmers – with the full expectation of receiving his share of the harvest. He sent a servant to collect what was due him and the tenant farmers beat the servant and sent him away empty-handed. He sent another but they also beat him, treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. He sent a third they also wounded him and threw him out. Finally, he sent his son. And they took one look at the son and said ‘This is the heir. Let’s kill him, so that the inheritance will be ours.’ They threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.  

As with any parable, the key to proper interpretation is a correct identification of the characters and details. Fortunately, we don’t have to speculate, because Luke tells us: the chief priests and the experts in the law…knew he had spoken this parable against them. So, this parable is about Israel, with special focus on Israel’s religious establishment. God is the owner. The people of Israel are the vineyard. The teachers of the law and the chief priests are the farmers. The thing that stands out is God’s grace to these religious leaders. They hadn’t purchased the vineyard with their own resources, nor had they earned their positions as farmers. God simply gave it to them. And, naturally, God – the owner – had every right to share in the profits of his vineyard – but sadly, the farmers refused and preferred to pretend as if the vineyard belonged to them, running God’s servants – the OT prophets – out of town.

You be the judge of these religious leaders, Jesus is telling the crowd. See God’s grace to them and see their hateful rejection of his grace and his prophets. Even more, see what they are planning to do to the Son of the owner of the vineyard. Imagine that. Jesus is speaking to the people and telling them that their leaders are planning to murder him – with the leaders standing right there.

How would you judge them? In fairness, you can’t really make that judgment until you first judge the Lord of the vineyard. Namely, what kind of fruit was he expecting the vineyard – the people – to produce under the care of the farmers – the church leaders? I believe this question is the crux of this parable. It demonstrates that this parable is not a fairy tale, that this is about real people and their standing before God; this story is about the Church of all time; this parable applies also to the pastor and people of Risen Savior. What kind of fruit did the prophets seek? What fruit did Jesus seek? What fruit does God command me to seek from you? Did the prophets seek sacrifices – obedience to rituals? There was no shortage of sacrifices in the OT, but through Hosea God said: I desire mercy, and not sacrifice, and the knowledge of God, rather than burnt offerings (Hosea 6:6). Did Jesus come after people’s money or possessions? I don’t recall Jesus once gathering an offering. Does God send pastors today to teach behavior modification, to help bad people become good and good people, better. If that were true, if the OT prophets, Jesus, or faithful pastors today were only trying to coerce people into obeying the Law, they would never be persecuted. Check out some of the most popular mega-churches and mega-pastors today (not to mention every other religion in the world): they demand everything but the shirt off their follower’s backs, week after week they give people “to-do” lists and people love them for it. No, what got God’s OT prophets persecuted, Jesus crucified and faithful pastors today attacked is seeking people’s sins.

Throughout the OT all of the prophets had the same message: repent and believe. They pleaded with the people to hand over their sins. Jesus came to seek out the lost sheep – not seeking to get something from the sheep (Luke 15). He came to serve, not to be served. Jesus still sends men to preach repentance and forgiveness – and many people find this offensive. There are those who don’t think it’s the church’s or pastor’s business to point out and rebuke their sins and those who think the church should be busy changing public policy not changing hearts. There are self-righteous people in every church – people who may be active and generous and sincere – but who are sadly under the impression that their good works cancel out their sins. And yet, the only people they’re deceiving is themselves. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us (1 John 1:8).

So you be the judge. Be the judge of the Lord of the Church and of those he sends to tend to it. He came to the vineyard looking to lift the burden of people’s sins. Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28), Jesus invited, but the chief priests preferred to try to work their way into heaven. All Jesus wanted was to be their Savior, the Lamb of God who takes away their sins, but rather than repent of their self-righteousness and build their faith on Jesus, they rejected and killed him. I suppose it might not seem politically correct – or even Christian – to ask you to judge these leaders, but isn’t that exactly what God invites us to do in Isaiah 5: judge between me and my vineyard. What more could have been done for my vineyard that I have not already done for it? (Isaiah 5:3-4) He gave the vineyard away for free. He wanted the only fruit that sinners can produce…which is: sin. He didn’t just send one prophet or a couple of prophets, but as he says in Jeremiah: from the time your fathers left Egypt until today, I have sent all my servants, the prophets, to them again and again (Jeremiah 7:25). What more could God have done?

Well, there is one more thing. The greatest thing. God sent his most precious treasure – his only-begotten Son – to the landfill of this earth to seek fruit in the vineyard. You be the judge of love like that. Can you wrap your mind around such love? Would you ever send your child to people with a reputation for violence and murder – would you ever send them to Iran or Russia – on the chance they will give them a warm reception? Because that’s exactly what God did. He saw his prophets abused and beaten and he said to himself what should I do? I will send my son, whom I love. Perhaps they will respect him.

Don’t we have to judge that the Lord of the vineyard loves us more than we would dare to hope? This is that love unknown that we sing about! It was God’s unknown, unfathomable, outrageous love that caused him to send his Son into this world not to gather up our good works but to gather up our sins. All of them. Not just the small ones, the “white lies,” or that one time we ran a stop sign or the one time we lost our temper– but the big, black ones, the ones we would never tell anyone about, the ones that keep us up at night. That’s the fruit he’s looking for. That’s what he came to earth to suffer, die, and pay for.

Is that how we always judge Christ and his Church or has work-righteousness taken root in our hearts, too? Do you think Jesus invites you to come into his presence so that he can get something from you? Is your faith defined by what you do for God or what God has done for you? Do you view your giving, serving, praying, worshipping as rent payments – as things you do to stay in God’s good graces? If so, it’s no wonder you would resent him; it’s no wonder that you would view midweek Lenten services as unnecessary and blow off Holy Week services – because in your mind church is where God piles burdens on you instead of taking them from you. But faith built on what we do for Jesus is no faith at all. In fact, it is unbelief; a rejection of God’s grace.

And what will God do to those who reject his grace? Jesus tells us he will come and destroy those tenant farmers and give the vineyard to others. Isn’t that shocking and appalling? Not the owner’s reaction – that’s completely justified – but the people’s reaction. How do they react when Jesus tells them that God is going to destroy the leaders who taught that doing good and working harder is how you earn God’s favor? Did they rejoice that the Lord would remove these abusive leaders? No, they foolishly shout may it never be! “No Jesus. We’d rather continue to believe that we can earn our way into heaven than accept it as a free gift from you.” [Jesus] looked at them. The English doesn’t do justice to the emotion contained in these words. This word for look is the one used when Jesus looked at the rich young man and loved him (Mark 10:21). It’s the word for that famous look Jesus gave Peter after the rooster had crowed (Luke 22:61). They were acting like slaves who wanted to remain in slavery rather than accept freedom. And Jesus pitied them.

Jesus tries one more time to help them judge properly. He quotes Psalm 118: ‘the stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone’ and adds his own interpretation: everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, and it will crush the one on whom it falls. There’s a Jewish proverb that states: “If a stone falls on a pot, woe to the pot. If the pot falls on the stone, woe to the pot. Either way, woe to the pot!” [1] Jesus is telling the people one more time that according to Scripture, the one the Jewish leaders reject is actually the key to the whole building. He is the great treasure God has given to the world – a treasure the Jewish establishment would throw onto the trash heap in days by crucifying him on Calvary. The point is that with Jesus there is no middle ground; you will either be broken by him now in repentance and faith or you will be crushed by him in judgment. Either way you must die to yourself; to all thoughts of earning heaven on your own.

You be the judge: where do you stand? Are you offended that Jesus doesn’t come to give you your best life now or to teach you how to be a better person but to call you to repentance, to expose your sins so that he can take them away from you? If this offends you, then you will be crushed just like those religious leaders, the nation of Israel and all who believe that Christianity is about “doing good” and “trying harder” for God. Or, will Jesus land on you and break you, crushing the pride, the self-sufficiency, the sins right out of you? Will he lead you to admit that you don’t have anything God needs; the only thing you really own is your sin; to not say “Lord, look at all the good I’ve done” but instead “Lord, have mercy on me”? Will you fall on Jesus and his merits and build your entire life, your faith, your priorities, your family on him? Will you see that worship is not about you doing anything for Jesus but him serving you with his forgiveness? Will you risk abusing God’s grace for so long that he finally takes it away from you and gives it to others? This is not reality TV where the worst that could happen is you get kicked off the island; the stakes are eternal life or death. You be the judge. God grant us all the wisdom to judge correctly. Amen.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Two_Pots#:~:text=But%20there%20is%20also%20a,Rabbah%2C%207%3A10).

Luke 23:32-43 - The Thief - March 30, 2022

Something’s always bothered me about this thief on the cross: why do people look up to him? Have you ever urged someone to repent, to return to church, to return to their confirmation vow and had them appeal to the thief on the cross? Especially delinquent or lapsed Christians seem to be strangely drawn to this thief – almost as a role model. Why is that? Does it soothe our guilty consciences to know that while we have sinned – at least we haven’t been sentenced to death? Is it because his example gives us the delusional hope that there will always be time later to repent and believe – so that we don’t have to do it now? There are two very good reasons why no one should idolize this thief. 1) First, he’s nailed to a cross – meaning: he must have committed and been convicted of some heinous crime to be executed in such a cruel fashion. 2) Second, and more importantly, Matthew tells us that even the criminals (both of them) who were crucified with him kept insulting him (Matthew 27:44), joining in with the taunt of the crowds, if you are the Son of God, come down from the cross (Matthew 27:43). This taunt relates to our theme for this year’s Lenten services: If Jesus is really the Son of God, why doesn’t he use his divine power to save himself – and, while he’s at it, us too? Don’t thoughts like that often run through our minds when we’re sitting at the kitchen table staring at a pile of bills we can’t pay; when we are struggling with some difficult or painful decision; when we are sick and suffering or when we are standing at the grave of someone we love? How can Jesus be the Son of God if all he can do is hang helplessly on a cross – and, if he can’t even save himself, how can he save us?

Proverbs says there is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it is the road to death (Proverbs 14:12). The cry if you are the Son of God, come down from the cross is a distillation, a summary of humanity’s natural religion; it’s the way we naturally think about God. The crowds, the chief priests and elders, even the crucified thieves rejected Jesus’ claim to be the Son of God because he didn’t fit their template of what God should be and do. They expected the Son of God, the Messiah to reveal himself in big, powerful, spectacular ways – not to hang helplessly on a cross. And didn’t they have every reason to expect that from Jesus? After all, he had given glimpses of his glory throughout his ministry. Even the thieves might have heard that Jesus had turned water into wine (John 2:1-11); cleansed lepers (Luke 17:11-19), cast out demons (Luke 11:14-26), calmed storms (Luke 8:22-25) and even raised the dead – not just once, but at least three times (Luke 7:11-17; Luke 8:40-56; John 11:1-44). Didn’t they have every reason to expect that if this guy really was the Son of God he could not only save himself from an agonizing death on a cross but them too?

But what did they see instead? A pitiful, pathetic excuse for a man hanging limply from a tree; his hands and feet bleeding just like ours would if someone drove nails through them. A man whose closest friends had abandoned him. A man who had been condemned by both the religious establishment and the governing authorities. A man who was mocked and ridiculed by perfect strangers passing by on the road. A man who appeared to be under God’s curse. Can you blame them for rejecting his claims? What reasonable person would accept that this convict hanging from a tree could possibly be the Son of God?

Here's the thing: while the way that is reasonable and rational might seem right – as Solomon declared, it ends only in death. With regard to Jesus, especially Jesus hanging on a cross, reason and logic will always be wrong. The thieves wanted Jesus to prove that he was God’s Son by coming down from the cross; Jesus proved that he was God’s Son by staying on it. Jesus shows us that God doesn’t do things our way. In fact, this is without question the biggest hurdle that must be crossed to go from the darkness of unbelief to the light of faith: the foolishness of the cross. That pitiful figure on the cross is concrete proof of the truth Paul spelled out in his letter to the Corinthians: God chose the foolish things of the world to put to shame those who are wise. God chose the weak things of the world to put to shame the things that are strong, and God chose the lowly things of the world and the despised things, and the things that are not, to do away with the things that are, so that no one may boast before God (1 Corinthians 1:27-29). Or as the only disciple who had the courage to stand at the foot of the cross, John, later wrote: this is the one who came by water and blood: Jesus Christ…this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son (1 John 5:6, 11).

But something came over this thief – something caused him to change his mind about Jesus. Was it Jesus’ glorious appearance or powerful actions? No – there was none of that on Calvary. Did the thief simply decide to accept Jesus into his heart? No, it’s difficult to think of someone more hardened in unbelief than a man who will ridicule the guy on the cross next to him when he knows he’s going to be meeting his Maker in a matter of hours. So what can account for the change, for the thief’s conversion? Paul explains: faith comes from hearing the message, and the message comes through the word of Christ (Romans 10:17). While the thief’s eyes and brain deceived him; his ears did not. He heard Jesus look at his mockers and pray Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing (Luke 23:34). Yes, he heard Jesus cry out in the midst of his deepest agony my God, my God, why have you forsaken me (Matthew 27:46), but he never heard Jesus curse God, blame God or deny God. Just the opposite: he never lost his faith or trust in God. This is God at his absolute greatest and most glorious: hanging, dying on a cross. It’s horrible and beautiful at the same time, isn’t it? God has given us eternal life – by condemning his Son to eternal death. The thief was finally truly seeing God, not in a miraculous escape from the cross, not in power or glory – but in the form of a Suffering Servant, who came to save sinners by water and blood (1 John 5:6).

The thief had heard the truth – both from the lips of Jesus and from the lips of his enemies. And the truth is that Jesus was determined to give his life to save humanity – no matter the pain or the cost. As long as the thief judged Jesus with his reason and logic, he was not only a dying man – he was a man headed for eternal death. But when the Word entered the thief’s ears and mind and heart, he became a changed man, crying and confessing and pleading all at once: “Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same condemnation? We are punished justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for what we have done, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Proof from the lips of a condemned man that Jesus truly is the perfect Son of God. Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” Jesus heard his confession and without hesitation announced: Amen I tell you: Today you will be with me in paradise. From hell to heaven in a matter of minutes.

Here's the point: we don’t need to look up to the thief as much as we need to see ourselves in him. 1) We too by nature reject the apparently humble, weak ways in which God works in our world and our lives. Some words spoken by a sinful man; some ordinary water, bread and wine - this is really how God reveals and applies his power and glory? These things are supposed to grant forgiveness of sins and eternal life? But just like for that thief, the Holy Spirit applied his almighty power through those humble means of grace to change us, to convert us, to carry us over the hurdle of the cross from rejection to repentance. 2) Even the thief’s words mirror our own, don’t they? He said we are punished justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for what we have done. We confessed moments ago: I confess to God Almighty, before the whole company of heaven, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed; by my fault, by my own fault, by my own grievous fault. Whether those words are spoken by a thief from a cross or by middle class Americans in a climate-controlled sanctuary – that’s what repentance looks and sounds like. 3) Just like that thief, our only hope of escape from eternal death lies in the fact that Jesus’ prayer Father, forgive them (Luke 23:34) apply to us as well. 4) Finally, our plea isn’t so much different from his, either. He said Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom. We pleaded I pray for God Almighty to have mercy on me, forgive me all my sins and bring me to everlasting life. And, as evidence that God’s grace is beyond measure, just as Jesus promised that thief that today you will be with me in paradise, so you assured me and I assured you that the almighty and merciful Lord [has] granted you pardon, forgiveness, and remission of all your sins.

So, I guess, in the end, we can look up to that thief on the cross. No, we shouldn’t imitate his life of crime or his mockery and ridicule of Jesus. No, we shouldn’t entertain the delusion that there will always be time to repent later – because tomorrow is guaranteed to no one. Instead, we can look up to that thief as an illustration of how God has treated us. God applied the power of his Word and Sacrament on us to lead us across the void from rejection to repentance and faith. We can and we should emulate his honest, unconditional repentance; his confession of sins and his plea for mercy. And, best of all, we should receive with joyful and believing hearts the truth that because the Son of God suffered on a cross for our sins, we too will be with him in paradise. I guess I was wrong; you can learn a lot from a thief. Amen.   

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32 - A Trip to the Lost and Found - March 27, 2022

A parable is an earthly story with a spiritual meaning. Jesus told this parable to people who were grumbling about the company he kept. They were disgusted that he had the audacity to hang out with the society’s outcasts, the riff-raff: tax collectors and prostitutes, lepers and beggars. They were not good, upstanding, church-going folk; they were sinners…dirty, despicable sinners. They were the last people anyone expected to see in church, much less in heaven. But Jesus welcomed them and ate with them. And the Pharisees and experts in the law hated him for it. So he took them on a trip to the lost and found. It’s actually the third of three related parables. The first two set up the third. In the parable of the lost sheep (Luke 15:3-7), a shepherd leaves 99 sheep to search for and save one lost sheep, and when he finds it, he calls his neighbors and throws a party. Then a woman loses a coin and turns the whole house upside down looking for it, and when she finds it, she calls her neighbors and friends and…throws a party (Luke 15:8-10). You can see the pattern, right? Something is lost, then it’s found, and there is rejoicing and a party. 

There was a man who had two sons. The younger son couldn’t wait for his father to die. He said Father, give me my share of the estate. In other words, “Dad, you’re worth more to me dead than alive, and since you seem unlikely to check out any time soon, just sign over the inheritance check now so I can get out from under your eye and get on with living life my way.” And the father did. He signed over the inheritance to the younger, gave the farm to the older, and kicked back into retirement. Not many days later the younger son hit the road to a far-off country…far from home and family – far from all the rules and guidance and accountability – this younger son did what so many people do in the same situation: he wasted his wealth. How? Reckless living. Was it alcohol, women, gambling, a business venture gone wrong? Who knows? It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that his father’s money, his livelihood, was now gone.

To make matters worse, there was a severe famine in that country. That part is familiar too, isn’t it? When it rains, it pours. You lose your job and your health insurance at the same time you need surgery and the furnace breaks down and the car needs new tires. The young man has no money and no food; he’s homeless and broke. But he’s still not broken. He’s still determined to prove that he doesn’t need his father or his love and especially his rules. So he goes to work in that far-off country feeding pigs. That’s about as shameful as it gets for a Jewish boy. Pigs were unclean, off-limits (Leviticus 11:7-8). Things got so desperate that he would have liked to fill his stomach with the pigs’ food. If you’ve ever wondered what rock-bottom looks like, this is it.

Hungry, broke, lost in a foreign country and reeking of pigs, Jesus says, he came to his senses. His proud, independent, rebellious will was starting to crack. ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, and I am dying from hunger!’ So he makes a plan. I will get up, go to my father, and tell him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants. And off he went.

He probably rehearsed his little speech on the road. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you…” He probably wondered if his father would acknowledge him or just slam the door in his face, as he knew he deserved. In this earthly story, there were no guarantees that his plan would work. All he knew was that after he had tried his hand at making his way through this world on his terms – and the world had coldly used him up and spit him out. He was all out of options; it was either die with the pigs in a foreign country or go home to his father’s house and beg for mercy.

Maybe you’ve been there. You’ve tried living life on your terms. You’ve done things your way with no regard for the will of the one who gave you life, gave you his love and a place in his family, and gave you everything you needed for this life and the promise of even more in the next. You’ve looked for happiness and fulfillment in all the places your Father told you not to. You tried to find yourself in the world and ended up getting lost. You’re broken and alone and out of options – but to go back to your Father’s house with your tail between your legs.

This is what repentance looks like. Repentance is not an act of human will – it is God’s act of breaking the human will. We don’t work repentance. God does. And he does it in a variety of ways. He begins it at the Baptismal font – as he did again this morning for Abigail – where he drowns our sinful nature under the waters of his forgiveness. He does it through parents and pastors and teachers and spouses and friends – who lovingly point out our sins to us. He does it regularly through the confession of sins and absolution and the proclamation of the Law in worship. When those fail to bring us around, he does it through the church’s declaration of excommunication. But quite often God does it through life. When we run away from him he allows us to fail, to suffer, to be humiliated and broken by this cold world. He lets us learn Psalm 32 firsthand: many are the sorrows of the wicked (Psalm 32:10). However God does it his message is the same: apart from him we are not only lost, we are as good as dead – now and eternally. And because it is really God’s hand at work in every case, we know that no matter how painful it is, his goal is that we repent and throw ourselves on his grace, his undeserved love.

Undeserved love is what we see in the parable. When the younger son was still far off, little more than a speck on the horizon, his father saw him. Clearly, he’d been watching, waiting, hoping his son would finally see the error of his ways and come home. And when he finally saw him, he didn’t hesitate, he took off running towards his son (something no self-respecting adult male would do), wrapped him up in his arms, kissed him – this boy that smelled like pig manure. The boy can only get half of his speech out before his father smothers him and orders the servants to bring out the best robe to cover his rags, the family ring for his finger and sandals for his blistered feet. And then, following the pattern, he says “let’s throw a party.” Because this son of mine was dead and is alive again. He was lost and is found.

Here’s the other side of repentance…when God has broken us, when he’s led us to see our lost condition, he won’t allow us to come to him trying to work out a deal. “Father, if you forgive me now I will turn my life over to you; I’ll be better; try harder. Give me a chance to earn my way back into your family.” Repentance is not a negotiation. Repentance doesn’t earn forgiveness. In fact, true repentance understands that God’s grace is so deep that we are forgiven before we say a word. We don’t ever earn our way home, we are received purely by unearned, undeserved grace.

Then there’s the older brother. He’s still out in the field working. He hears the music, the dancing, the singing. He comes near to the house and asks a servant, “Hey, what’s going on?” Your brother is here! Your father killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound. And he’s absolutely furious. He refuses to join the party. He wants nothing to do with it. Even when his father comes out and pleads with him, he won’t go. He says Look, these many years I’ve been serving you, and I never disobeyed your command, but you never gave me even a young goat so that I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours arrived after wasting your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him! In other words, “I’ll be damned before I celebrate your love along with that undeserving son of yours.” And right there you see the problem, right? This son thought he deserved better; that he had earned his father’s love.

But the father loves him too much to let him off so easily: Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours. But it was fitting to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again. He was lost and is found. And there the story ends. At the end of the parable, which son is lost? Who finds himself outside of the party? Not the one you’d expect. The good, responsible, upstanding one. The one who did all the right things for all the wrong reasons. And in the end, what keeps him out of the party? Not his brother’s wild living or his Father’s reckless love. Nothing but his own stubborn self-righteousness. In the end, self-righteousness is the reason so many people will find themselves lost in hell forever. They don’t think they need God’s undeserved love because they imagine they’ve earned it. No one is more lost than the person who thinks that they deserve God’s undeserved love.

What is this parable about? First, it’s about the third son, the one telling the story. The Son who left his Father’s house, forfeited all the perks of being the only Son of God, took on our human flesh and humbled himself to be born of a virgin. But there are two big, glaring differences. 1) He didn’t waste his Father’s inheritance, we did. We stole God’s blessings of life and health and wealth and used them to pursue our own selfish, pleasure-seeking purposes. We are why Jesus was born in the pig-pen of this world, surrounded by the slop of sin and death. We are why he was hung between criminals on a cross, mocked and jeered at by the rabble on the streets. We are why he was lost in a way we could never imagine when his Father abandoned him to hell. 2) And unlike the son in the parable, he had to earn his Father’s love. He not only had to live a perfectly obedient life, he then had to carry the sins of the world to the cross and hell and die to earn his Father’s favor. And only when he had done it all, perfectly, did God exalt him to his rightful place at the head of heaven’s feast where he rules all things (Philippians 2:9-11).

This parable is about us, too. We were all born as lost sons. Lost in sin. Doomed to die and be lost in hell forever. But God found us. He found us in Baptism – like he did this morning for little Abigail – he washed away our sins, adopted us into his family, gave us a place in his house, gave us all the rights and privileges of true sons and daughters. And how have we thanked him? How many times have we said, “No, Father, I don’t like your rules or really care about your love. The path you would have me walk is too restrictive and I’d rather run free. I can do without the gifts you offer in Word and Sacrament. Just give me your blessings and go away.” And yet, while God often lets us go our own way – his house (the Church) is not a prison, he forces no one to stay – he never gives up on us. He never stops working to lead us to repentance – whether through the hammer of the Law or the sheer hopelessness and despair of life in this world apart from him. And the most amazing thing is that no matter how many times we run away he’s always there waiting to welcome us home. Always ready to cover the filth of our sin with the robe of Jesus’ perfect righteousness. No matter how far, how long, how badly, how shamefully we have treated our Father – he always, always, always welcomes us back. No questions, no conditions, just full and immediate restoration.

In the end, this parable isn’t really about lost sons but about the father’s endless grace. Whether we can more closely identify with the younger son who squandered his father’s inheritance or the older one who squandered his father’s love – the point of the parable is the same: it’s not about what you think you deserve. Jesus took our place under God’s wrath so that we could take his seat at his Father’s party. The Father sacrificed the Lamb for us. That’s grace. That’s what this parable is about. That’s the only way that anyone can relate to God. We don’t ever find out if the older son realized his lost condition and went in to receive and celebrate his father’s boundless love. I think Jesus ends there on purpose. It forces us to ask ourselves: will we? Amen.  

Mark 15:21 - Simon of Cyrene - March 23, 2022

Who is Jesus? That may sound like a simple, kindergarten-level question to you but it’s proven to be one of, if not the most difficult question to answer in history. It’s not a new question. This question runs throughout all four gospels. It’s raised after Jesus taught with authority in the synagogue and followed that up by exorcising a demon-possessed man (Mark 1:21-28). It’s raised after Jesus absolved the sins of a sinful woman, when those who had witnessed it asked who is this who even forgives sins (Luke 7:49)? After Jesus had calmed the wind and the waves with just a word, his disciples asked who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him (Mark 4:41)! “Who are you?” Pilate asked Jesus as he stood before him on trial. “Are you a king? Where are you from?” (John 18:33; 19:9). “Who is Jesus?” is the most important question anyone can ever ask because the answer has eternal implications. But behind that question is another question, the question many Jews at the time were asking: “Could this Jesus of Nazareth be the Messiah, the Christ, the Savior?” Such Messianic expectations must have filled our man of the hour, a man called Simon of Cyrene.

So what do we know about this man? Well, to state the obvious, he was from Cyrene. Cyrene was a city in Libya in North Africa. Even though it was in Africa, Cyrene was a Greek city in which the Jews had settled (or better, been resettled) in large numbers. What was Simon doing so far from home? The Law of Moses required Jews to observe the Passover at the place the Lord chose (Deuteronomy 16:2, 11). Jerusalem was that place, and every Jew tried to make that pilgrimage at least once in their life. Simon was likely in Jerusalem on just such a pilgrimage. He was a Jew who had come to celebrate the Passover Festival. Messianic and nationalistic expectations ran high during the Passover. They hoped, prayed and longed for the Messiah to come to restore their nation.

As a Jew, Simon of Cyrene would have been well acquainted with the Old Testament prophecies concerning the Messiah. There were four threads regarding the expectations the Jews held for the promised Messiah. 1) First and foremost was the expectation that the Messiah would be a descendant of David who would sit on David’s throne and would restore independence to God’s chosen people – as in Isaiah 9 (Isaiah 9:6-7). 2) A second expectation was that in the Messiah God himself would break into human history – as in Isaiah 7 (Isaiah 7:14; 52:10). 3) A third expectation pulled the first two together and said that this divinely appointed Messiah would destroy Israel’s enemies and usher in a new age of unprecedented peace and prosperity – as in Isaiah 65 (Isaiah 65:17-25). 4) A fourth expectation, which was hard, if not impossible for the Jews to grasp – was that the Messiah would also be the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53. You can understand why many Jews struggled with this prophecy, can’t you? How on earth could a king who suffered and died in such a horrible fashion possibly save his people from their enemies and establish an eternal kingdom? It made no sense. In any event, up until this point no one man had truly fulfilled one, much less all of these prophecies.

No one knows precisely what kind of questions or expectations Simon of Cyrene brought with him to Jerusalem. But it’s probably safe to assume that he did not expect to be forced to carry the cross of a condemned criminal (compare as reverse of 3rd Amendment). But, nonetheless, it happened. There he was, just trying to celebrate the Passover, now forced to carry the cross of a condemned man to Calvary. As he struggled under the weight of this man’s cross, he must have been wondering: “Who is this man and what has he done to deserve this?” The road to Calvary supplied some clues. 1) There were women who wept and wailed over him – few people normally weep over the imminent death of a capital criminal (Luke 23:27). 2) There was Jesus’ response to this weeping: daughters of Jerusalem, stop weeping for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. Be sure of this: the days are coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never gave birth, and the breasts that never nursed.’ Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’ For if they do these things to the green wood, what will happen to the dry?” (Luke 23:29-31) These were not the words of a hardened anarchist or murderer. These were weighty words; words of prophecy (Hosea 10:8). 3) And if these words didn’t make it clear, the sign Pilate placed over his head on the cross removed all doubt: this man was Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews (John 19:19).

What Simon knew previously about Jesus, we can’t say. How long Simon stayed near the cross is also unknown. But this much is clear – Mark further identifies Simon as the father of Alexander and Rufus (Mark 15:21). Alexander and Rufus must have been believers well-known to the early Church – otherwise Mark’s reference to them here wouldn’t make any sense. Quite possibly, this is the same Rufus as the one Paul sent his greetings to at the end of his letter to the Romans (Romans 16:13). The mention of these two men tells us that Simon’s seemingly chance encounter had generated faith.

While there’s a lot of uncertainty regarding this Simon of Cyrene, his carrying of Jesus’ cross does serve to confirm Jesus’ words in John 12: and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself (John 12:32). The cross is the ultimate answer to the question “Who is this man?” It silently and brutally testifies that he is the Suffering Servant Isaiah wrote about. He was despised and rejected by men, a man who knew grief, who was well acquainted with suffering. Like someone whom people cannot bear to look at, he was despised, and we thought nothing of him (Isaiah 53:3). (“We thought nothing of him” carries the idea that no one recognized who Jesus really was – as the entire account of Jesus’ passion proves to be true.)

Does that mean that this was all an accident, a tragic coincidence, a terrible miscarriage of justice; that things would have gone differently if only everyone had recognized who Jesus really was? No. Because according to Isaiah it was the LORD’s will to crush him and to allow him to suffer (Isaiah 53:10). The cross was no accident. It was part of God’s plan from the beginning. It was the Lord of heaven and earth – not just wicked, corrupt men like Judas and Caiaphas and Herod and Pilate – who crushed Jesus, his Servant. The million-dollar question is: why? Why did God the Father crush his own perfect, beloved Son under the weight his wrath on the cross? Isaiah answers that question, too: 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 (Isaiah 53:5).

It was something that Simon almost certainly didn’t recognize at the time, but his carrying of the cross is a vivid illustration of what we call “The Great Exchange.” Whether he knew it or not, the cross Simon was forced to carry was really his own – that is, the one he deserved; and the one we deserve. Both he and we deserved to be forced by whips and kicks and shouts to carry a heavy, splintered cross to a hill away from the presence of God to be nailed to it and to suffer the full wrath of God over our sins – suffering which would never end in hell. But by God’s grace, Simon – and we – get to drop that cross at Calvary, and watch as Jesus – the innocent, sinless, Lamb of God – hung on it in our place. What cross are you carrying right now? What sin or guilt is haunting you? What anger or grudge is burning a hole in your heart? What fear or anxiety is keeping you up at night? What sickness or pain is making you miserable? Drop it here, let Jesus take it – and leave it here. Jesus wants nothing more. Paul puts it this way: God made him, who did not know sin, to become sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him (2 Corinthians 5:21). Jesus had to take our punishment so that we might receive his righteousness – that’s why this had to happen; this was God’s plan all along.

We’ve been asking “who is Jesus? But several times Jesus turned that question back on his disciples, who do people say that I am? (Mark 8:27) His disciples reported the confusion of the people: John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others say one of the prophets (Mark 8:28). But Jesus asked all who would call themselves his disciples – and therefore, us – a much more pointed question: who do you say I am? (Mark 8:29). When we look at Isaiah’s inspired, prophetic words, when we look at Simon of Cyrene, that man who carried Jesus’ cross, and when we put all the evidence together, there’s only one possible conclusion: this man, this Jesus of Nazareth who was hung on a cursed tree, is the one – the only one – who fulfills all of God’s prophecies regarding the Messiah. He is the One God had sent to sit on David’s throne as God’s Anointed One to destroy his people’s enemies and usher in an age of unprecedented peace and prosperity – a victory he would achieve as a Servant, a Servant who would suffer and die on a cross. Or, put more succinctly, here is further proof that Jesus truly is the Son of God. Amen.  

Luke 13:1-9 - Jesus Interprets the News - March 20, 2022

If the season of Lent could be summed up in just one word, that word would be…REPENT. In Hebrew it’s “shuv” – which has the basic idea of turning back or turning around. In Greek it’s “metanoia” – literally “change your mind.” Throughout the Bible repentance refers to a change; a change of heart and mind and ways…from sin to holiness, from unbelief to faith, from death to life. In the first of his 95 theses, Martin Luther stated that the entire life of a believer is to be one of repentance. [1] Today, Jesus shows us how the news we consume is really a call to repentance.

Why are we so fascinated by the news? Why do our lives revolve around the morning newspaper or the news feed on our phones? One reason is that it allows us to “play God” – to sit in the safety of our homes and judge the thoughts, words and actions of others. We are invited to join similarly uninvolved reporters in assigning blame or shame or criticism or praise as we see fit. It’s an ego boost to see all these “evil” people paraded before our eyes and think: “I may not be perfect…but I’m certainly better than them!” It gives us a certain “entitlement” complex. That the news validates what we thought all along “other people may need to repent, but not me!”

Israel suffered from this “entitlement” complex. They knew they were God’s chosen people, his treasured possession (Deuteronomy 7:6). They had the Law, the temple, the prophets, priests and kings chosen by God himself. They had proof that God was on their side: he had rescued them from Egypt, led them through the Red Sea and the wilderness, and given them possession of a land that wasn’t theirs. And so they figured: “we’ve got the golden ticket…we don’t need to repent, to change our ways.” And yet, what did God commission Ezekiel to proclaim to Israel? Turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why should you die, O house of Israel (Ezekiel 33:11)

The Christians in Corinth evidently had the same kind of “entitlement” complex. They were strong, they were spiritual, they were filled with knowledge and the Spirit, they enjoyed their liberty from the Law through the Gospel. They prophesied and spoke in tongues. They were young and hip and growing and…they were the congregation Paul had the most trouble with. They were divided. They abused the gift of the Lord’s Supper and each other. They boasted of their tolerance of sin and failed to carry out proper Christian discipline. They were sexually immoral and doubted the resurrection. Which is why Paul issued one of the sternest warnings in the entire NT: let him who thinks he stands be careful that he does not fall (1 Corinthians 10:12) That’s why he reminded them of Israel’s history; that Israel too had all the benefits of God’s grace – and yet God was not pleased with most of them. He had them die in the wilderness (1 Corinthians 10:5). Remember the lessons of the past, Paul was telling them; don’t take God’s grace for granted. He will eventually reject those who refuse to repent and return to him.

We need to hear this warning too because we still have a tendency to have an “entitlement” complex, to take God’s grace for granted. Don’t we tend to believe that bad things happen to bad people? Every time there is a disaster, some act of war or violence or abuse of power…a tornado, earthquake, or flood – we are inundated with 24/7 streams of speculation attempting to answer the question: “why did God allow this to happen to these people?” And the usual, if unspoken, answer is, “well, they must have deserved it.” (To be clear, sometimes this is the case. When a drug addict overdoses or a speeder dies in a crash, their death is clearly a direct result of their sin.) But the one thing that never changes, no matter what has happened in the news, is the comfort that it has nothing at all to do with me. Jesus challenges that theory in our text.

One day, some people came to Jesus with news about a barbaric act committed by Pontius Pilate. He had slaughtered some Galileans as they were offering their sacrifices at the temple in Jerusalem. It was probably no coincidence that this happened to Galileans. Galilee was the wild west of Israel; a hotbed of insurrection, political anarchists and terrorists. Pilate was probably hoping to make an example out of them. He was sending a message: “If you even think about plotting against my government, this will happen to you, too.”

So how were the people to interpret this? From Jesus’ response, it appears that they were expecting him to agree with their own interpretation: that God was punishing these Galileans for their sin. But Jesus gets to the heart of the issue: do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered these things? And then he does the one thing we never want him to do when we come to him for answers: he turns the question around: I tell you, no. But unless you repent, you will all perish too.

And then to drive the point home even further, Jesus adds a headline of his own: a construction accident which didn’t appear to have any political or religious overtones. A tower fell in Siloam killing 18 people. Just a freak accident. How was this to be interpreted? Do you think that they were worse sinners than all the people living in Jerusalem? Was God paying those people back for some sin they had committed? I tell you, no. But unless you repent, you will all perish too. And you could substitute any manmade or natural disaster, any tragedy you want; those with religious overtones – like 9/11 or the religious persecution occurring in the Middle East and China; or those without, like Russia’s invasion of Ukraine or the wildfires in Texas. How should you interpret that news? Is God punishing these people? Are they getting what they deserve? Jesus’ answer is: no – meaning that’s the wrong question. When tragedies happen we shouldn’t be asking “why did God allow this to happen?” But “what is God telling me?” According to Jesus, the answer to that question is crystal clear: repent! No matter what happened to who, every tragedy is a reminder that this entire world is under God’s curse and sooner or later he is going to bring everyone under judgment. Every death is a reminder that someday we, too, will die. So go ahead and watch the news, but remember that the news isn’t really about what God is doing to others (that’s above our pay-grade), it’s about what he’s telling us. And his message to us is clear: repent, otherwise you, too, will perish.

But the simple fact that we are still here to consume the news and not reduced to a few inches in the obituary section is evidence of God’s grace to us. Jesus illustrates this with a parable. A man had a fruitless fig tree that failed to produce for three years. He wanted to cut it down. It was taking up space, wasting soil and water. But the gardener intervened. Be patient. Give it one more year. He’ll work on it: aerate its roots, fertilize it. If it bears fruit, great. If not, go ahead: cut it down. This parable was clearly spoken against Israel. She was the fig tree God had planted in the Promised Land and when the Son of God came, looking for fruit, he didn’t find any. For three years Jesus had left his footprints on Israel’s highways and byways. For three years he had worked to seek and save the lost in Israel. For three years he had preached and taught and performed miracles. For three years he had searched for repentance and faith in Israel. Israel’s time was running out. But still Jesus was patient, he put up with their unbelief, their hostility, their rejection – because he didn’t want any of them to perish but to return to their God and be saved (1 Timothy 2:4; 2 Peter 3:9).

And that’s also why God puts up with the world at large today. That’s why he doesn’t seem to be on any big campaign to clean this world up. That’s why he doesn’t give this world what it deserves. That’s why in most cases it seems likes he doesn’t interfere or intervene when evil people do evil things and tragedies happen; why he allows felons to drive over Christmas parades, college kids to OD on spring break, and Russia to invade Ukraine. Each and every disaster is a public service announcement through which God is telling the world: Repent. Turn around. Change your mind and your ways. Return to the God who created you.

Most importantly, Jesus’ intercession is the only reason that God has put up with us to this day. His pleading with the Father for “one more year” is the only reason we are still alive, still watching the news and not subjects of the news. It’s why we refer to our lifetimes as our “time of grace.” It is the time Jesus has graciously purchased for us to repent, to return to him and be saved from the destruction that is coming. Both parts are important: repenting and returning. Why? Because we are incapable, by ourselves, of producing the good fruit God demands from us. Jesus makes this clear in John’s Gospel: I am the Vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him is the one who bears much fruit, because without me you can do nothing (John 15:5). That Jesus is the one who produces good fruit in our lives is clear even in this parable: ‘Sir, leave it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put fertilizer on it. If it produces fruit next year, fine. But if not, then cut it down.’

This is the real reason we are still alive, still breathing, still walking and talking in this world – so that Jesus would have one more day to dig around the roots of our hearts with his call to repentance, to fertilize us by pouring his life-giving, fruit-producing power into us through Word and sacrament. To make us the fruitful trees God always intended. What does a fruitful tree look like? Paul says the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). Are those fruits present in your life? If God is watching the newsreel of your life – and he is – is he pleased with what he sees? If you have to confess with me that many days we’ve been fruitless trees just taking up space in God’s kingdom – then remember this: the call to return to Jesus, to receive his gifts in Word and Sacrament, isn’t primarily a call to come here to be fertilized and energized so that you can go out and prove your fruitfulness, your worthiness to God in your life. If that were true, we’d be better off giving up now – because our fruit will never meet God’s standard of perfection. No, the call to return to Jesus – especially in this season of Lent – is to trust that he came to live the life we have not, to bear the fruit we cannot, to be cut down on the cross in our place and to rise to life to justify us, make us worthy and righteous in God’s sight. We need to return to Jesus urgently because every day the one thing we need most is the forgiveness and righteousness only he can offer. Because while full and free forgiveness is no guarantee that we won’t be diagnosed with cancer or that some tragedy will put our names in the headlines – it does guarantee that we will be shielded from God’s wrath on Judgment Day. And in the end, that’s the real tragedy we need to avoid.

So…how should we interpret the news – the minute-by-minute reporting of tragic events from all over the world? Jesus says that we can’t – at least not in the way we’d like to. I hope Jesus has changed the way you consume the news forever. That instead of asking “why did God allow this to happen to those people?” we ask “what is God telling me?” Because now we know the answer to that question: repent! Turn around. Change your mind and your ways. Recognize that every tragedy is a shadow of the far worse tragedy that will befall every impenitent unbeliever on Judgment Day. And then return. Return to Jesus in faith – the one who shed his blood to shield you from the punishment of eternal death so that you might instead have the gift of eternal life. Amen.

[1] https://www.luther.de/en/95thesen.html

Matthew 27:11-14, 24-26 - Pontius Pilate - March 16, 2022

Have you ever noticed that, apart from the persons of the Holy Trinity, there are only two other people mentioned by name in the Apostles’ and Nicene creeds – one famous, the other infamous; one whom we call blessed, the other cursed? We confess that Jesus “was born of the Virgin Mary” and we rightly call her blessed. Then we continue, “[Jesus] suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried.” A cursed legacy if there ever was one. What are we to make of this man?

Let’s start with what we know about him from history. His official title was “governor of the imperial province of Judea,” a position he held from roughly 26 to 36 AD. He had been appointed to maintain Roman rule over Galilee, Samaria, Judea, and other territories to the north. This was not exactly a dream posting. Palestine was an infamously difficult place to keep the peace because the Jews were so bitterly opposed to foreign rule. Being sent to govern Syria was like being sent to Afghanistan, and governors went there hoping for a swift promotion to somewhere better.

Pilate’s own term as governor was marred by near-continuous discontent and rioting among the Jews, and much of it was his own fault. No sooner had he arrived in Jerusalem than he tried to have the imperial symbol, which included the image of Caesar, mounted on the walls of the Temple. His attempt to “imperialize” the temple incited such backlash that he had it removed within five days. Later, he proposed to build a new 25-mile aqueduct to bring fresh water from the mountains to Jerusalem – which sounds like a noble cause. But when he tried to requisition funds from the temple treasury to build it, a bloody riot broke out. Stories like these characterized Pilate’s ten-year reign as governor: the Jews hated him – and he hated them. It's important to keep that political tension in mind as we consider Pilate’s role in the last hours of our Savior’s life.

Normally, the governor lived in Caesarea on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. There, the climate was cool and calm – not only because the refreshing breeze from the Mediterranean beat back the sweltering Palestinian heat, but also because there the governor was somewhat removed from the focal point of Jewish contention: Jerusalem. However, whenever the Jews celebrated their annual religious festivals, the governor relocated to Jerusalem, because it was at those times that Jewish nationalism, patriotism and opposition to foreign rule tended to boil over into both peaceful and not-so-peaceful protests and riots.

The Passover festival of 30 AD held true to form. It was in the early hours, probably about 5a on Friday, when Pilate was roused out of bed by a delegation of the Jewish leaders, members of the Sanhedrin. Mark records it this way: as soon as it was morning, the chief priests, along with the elders, the experts in the law, and the whole Sanhedrin, reached a decision. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate (Mark 15:1). You can imagine Pilate’s reaction. He probably cursed the Jews under his breath for disturbing his sleep at such an early hour. And if that weren’t enough, the following interaction must have made his blood boil: what charge do you bring against this man?...If this man were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you…Take him and judge him according to your law…It’s not legal for us to put anyone to death (John 18:29-31). Why did Jesus have to die, according to them? We found this fellow misleading our nation, forbidding the payment of taxes to Caesar, and saying that he himself is Christ, a king (Luke 23:2).

Put yourself in Pilate’s shoes for a moment. Can you blame him for not wanting anything to do with this case? He discovers that they had been up all night prejudging the defendant. He also knew that all they wanted was for him to rubber-stamp their verdict. (If there’s one thing no judge likes, it’s presumption on the part of the prosecution.) He also knew that their bringing Jesus to him was pure hypocrisy. He knew that if Jesus had really been opposing the paying of taxes to Rome that they would have been cheering him on, not accusing him. But even though he knew that this man was brought to him on completely trumped-up charges, the trumped-up charge was treason, and if he refused to hear the case then, as the Jews accurately stated, if you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar (John 19:12). In other words, if word of this supposed treason got back to Caesar and it was discovered that Pilate ignored it, his own neck would be on the line.

So Pilate interrogated Jesus: “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus said to him, “It is as you say.” Jesus had just pleaded guilty to the charge of being the King of the Jews and therefore the Son of God, the Christ – and what was Pilate’s verdict? I find no basis for a charge against him (John 18:38). Pilate knew that this whole thing was a sham; a devious scheme to get rid of someone who was a threat – not to Caesar – but to these Jewish leaders. Pilate’s declaration of innocence is official, historical proof that Jesus truly is the Son of God.

He did everything in his power to free Jesus. 1) He tried to refer the case to Herod, but Herod sent Jesus right back when Jesus wouldn’t entertain him with miracles (Luke 23:6-12). 2) Then Pilate gave them a choice between the notorious and violent criminal called Barabbas (whose name ironically means “son of the father”) and Jesus, whose only crime was that he was the Son of God. They chose Barabbas (Matthew 27:21). 3) Then he appealed to their sense of compassion. He ordered his soldiers to flog Jesus (Matthew 27:26). Flogging meant lashes with a whip, which consisted of leather strips that had bits of bone or metal tied to the tips. Each stroke would rip open the victim’s skin and tear into his flesh. And then, to top it off, they pressed a crown of thorns into our Savior’s head in mockery of his kingship (Mark 15:17). In this state, Pilate presented him to the crowd, hoping that this pathetic excuse for a man would arouse their pity and satisfy their desire for blood. 4) Finally, when that failed, he tried one last dramatic move to demonstrate his opposition to this whole situation: he took water, washed his hands in front of the crowd, and said, “I am innocent of this man’s blood. It is your responsibility. But when they shouted back, let his blood be on us and on our children he handed him over to be crucified.

It's a sad story, really, isn’t it? That Pilate is remembered not for any of the positive, beneficial things that he might have accomplished during his term as governor; that instead his name is recorded in history – in both the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds – as the one under whom Jesus suffered, was crucified, died and was buried. What kind of man would do this? He knew Jesus was innocent and yet he condemned him to death anyway. What kind of man is this who knows what is right, yet violates his own conscience? How could anyone preside over such an obvious perversion of justice as this and live with himself?

What’s obvious is that Pilate was, in the end, a pragmatist. A pragmatist is someone who has no real principles, no real moral standards, no clear distinction between right and wrong. All that the pragmatist is worried about is finding what works best in any given situation. And Pilate, the pragmatic, ambitious politician, was most concerned about keeping the peace at all costs so that he would remain in position for a promotion. In that game, it isn’t possible to stick to absolute principles of right and wrong, but rather, to what is expedient. Caught in an impossible situation, Pilate reveals himself to be a weak, cowardly and compromising man – ready to sell his own soul for the sake of his career. The tragic irony of Pilate’s story is that all of his efforts at climbing the political ladder didn’t work out in the end. A few years after he had condemned Jesus to death by crucifixion, the emperor recalled Pilate to Rome. [1] There, his failures and his guilty conscience apparently caught up with him. According to the Roman historian Eusebius, Pilate died – not naturally or of old age, but by suicide. If this review of Pilate’s life proves anything – it’s that he was a spineless coward…both in life and in death.

It's understandable that history is not kind to Pilate. But isn’t the spirit of Pilate alive and well in our world today? Don’t we still have our share of pragmatists who are unprincipled, immoral and regularly blur the line between right and wrong? And I’m not talking about politicians, celebrities or used-car salesmen. How many times don’t we choose what is easy, pleasurable and expedient over what is right? It’s tax season. It’s really tempting to be less than honest on our tax returns in order to get a bigger refund. Parenting is hard. It’s really tempting to try to be your child’s friend rather than do the hard work of raising them in the fear and knowledge of the Lord (Ephesians 6:4). A lot of people disagree with what God’s Word teaches regarding marriage and sexuality – maybe even a lot of your own friends and family. It’s really tempting, expedient even, to just go along with popular opinion. There is only one way to heaven (John 14:6) and only one way that this gift salvation is delivered to people – through the means of grace: the gospel in Word and Sacrament; and yet – as we talked about in Bible class on Sunday – it’s really tempting to keep quiet instead of making a friend or family member angry by bringing up their sin of neglecting the means of grace. Certainly we must speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15), but that demands that we speak! Silence is tantamount to cowardly, spineless pragmatism. Pilate definitely isn’t alone in failing to do or say what is right in the name of expediency.

Thank God, then, that Jesus never compromised his principles or sacrificed his morality for a single moment for any reason – not even in the face of being unjustly put to death for honestly confessing his identity as the Son of God, the King of kings, Lord of lords, and Savior of the world. The Jews claimed that they wanted Jesus’ blood on them and their children…ironically, we agree with them. We want – we need – Jesus’ blood to be on us and our children, for only the blood of Jesus…[God’s] Son, cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7) – including our sins of sacrificing our principles, our morality, our integrity, most of all, our obligation the truth of God’s Word for the sake of temporary advancement or pleasure or gain. This is the good news from the sad story of Pilate: the times we have acted like Pilate in our own lives are forgiven by the death of Jesus, the Son of God. May this forgiveness strengthen us to stand firm in truth and honesty and integrity, no matter the pain or the cost. Amen.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pontius_Pilate#CITEREFSchwartz1992

Luke 13:31-35 - Jesus' Determination to Save Confronts and Conquers Religion, Politics and Hearts - March 13, 2022

The Word of God before us this morning involves two of the most powerful, most volatile and most polarizing things in the world – two of the things that are forbidden to be discussed at many family gatherings: politics and religion. King Herod and the Pharisees. Both Bible and human history suggest that it’s wise to watch out whenever religion and politics get together. In the book of Revelation, it’s the recipe for worldwide trouble and persecution of the Church. Take one part religion and one part politics and hand them over to the devil to stew and you have the perfect recipe for the Antichrist – that is, someone or something which would replace Christ as Lord in people’s hearts and minds (Revelation 13). Whether it’s the emperor cult of 1st century Rome, the Islamic caliphate, the medieval papacy, Hitler’s Third Reich, or any other unholy alliance of religious and political authority, whenever the two get together there is sure to be trouble, persecution and bloodshed. Today, Jesus goes head-to-head with this two-headed monster.

The Pharisees came to Jesus, pretending to be concerned for his well-being. “Get away from here – Herod has put a bounty on your head. You don’t want to get yourself killed, do you? get out while you still can.” Of course, the great irony is that the Pharisees were scheming to do that very thing. They’d been planning Jesus’ death for over a year (Mark 3:6). They just couldn’t agree on when or how. And Jesus…well Jesus seems utterly unconcerned by the whole thing. Instead, he’s defiant: go tell that fox, ‘Look, I am going to drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal. Jesus doesn’t back down an inch. He knew exactly what was in store for him in Jerusalem. He’d already predicted it: that he would suffer, die, and rise again – on the third day (Luke 9:21-22). Death threats from puppet kings didn’t worry him.

Why not? Because he’s the Lord. He lays down his life on his own terms (John 10:18). He had proven this several other times when his life was threatened. When his hometown crowd wanted to throw him off a cliff in Nazareth, he walked away without a scratch (Luke 4:30). When he claimed that he was equal to Yahweh – the I am of the Old Testament – and the crowd prepared to stone him to death, he slipped away untouched (John 8:59). When it comes to life and death, Jesus runs the show. Threats from human kings mean nothing to the King of kings. No amount of political pressure would keep Jesus from accomplishing his mission of salvation.

Next he confronts the Pharisees. He knows what they’re really thinking; that they’re plotting his death too…that all this talk of concern for his safety and security is fake and insincere. Nevertheless, I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the next day – and then the real zinger – because it cannot be that a prophet would be killed outside Jerusalem! Now there’s a shot: if a prophet sent from God is going to die, it has to be in Jerusalem; God’s city, the Pharisees’ hornets’ nest.

Now this prediction shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise to anyone who knows their OT history. Jerusalem had earned quite the reputation when it came to the prophets God had sent. When Jeremiah declared that Jerusalem would become like Shiloh, desolate and deserted, the people called for his death, had him arrested and thrown into a cistern (Jeremiah 38). According to tradition, Isaiah was sawn in half and Zechariah was stoned to death in the courtyard of the temple in Jerusalem (2 Chronicles 24:21). New Testament prophets didn’t fare much better. Stephen was stoned to death in Jerusalem by no less than the members of the Sanhedrin themselves (Acts 7:54-60). James was beheaded in Jerusalem (Acts 12:2). Jerusalem had a reputation for taking God’s prophets, chewing them up and spitting them out…dead. Jerusalem was dripping with innocent blood. Jerusalem’s entire history was bloody: the blood of sacrifices and Passover lambs and prophets and martyrs. All of this foreshadowed what God had determined before the creation of the world: that the blood of Jesus, his Son, the Lamb of God (John 1:29) would be shed in Jerusalem to pay for the sins of the world.

You would think that Jesus would be angry, knowing what he did. I would be, if it were me. I get angry when people reject the invitation of the Gospel – the Word and Sacrament – in favor of something else. I get frustrated when people want entertainment over forgiveness, social activities over the active work of the Holy Spirit, a temporary solution for their day-to-day issues rather than an eternal solution for their sins. We all get angry at those who seek to harm us, who want to hurt us, who insult us for our faith in Christ. We all know what it’s like when our love is ignored, when we are snubbed or rejected. We know how impossible it seems when Jesus tells us to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us (Luke 6:27-36). It’s hard, impossible even, for us. Our sinful self-centeredness gets in the way.

But, thank God, Jesus is not like us. He loved his enemies. He loved the people in Jerusalem – people who rejected him; even the political and religious leaders; even Herod and the Pharisees – who wanted him dead. He weeps over them: Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her! How often have I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing! People often wonder what is on God’s mind, what he wants, what his will, his plans are for us and for this world. This is it! God sent his one and only Son, Jesus, to earth to spread out his arms like a mother hen gathering up her wandering chicks. He wants them all – the religious and the unreligious, the political and the apolitical, the powerful and the powerless. He came to save them all; even those that don’t want it. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29) and if the world doesn’t want its sin taken away, well, he does it anyway.

Now, we might be tempted sit here from a distance of 2000 years and think “How sick and disgusting of those people, those Pharisees and Herod, for rejecting Jesus, wanting him dead when all he wanted to do was save them!” But the season of Lent is about seeing ourselves honestly so that we can see our Savior clearly – and the truth is that there is a little Pharisee and a little Herod in each one of us. We are easily tempted to trust in the power of princes, of laws, of policies of government to provide for us and to protect us and feed us rather than in the powerful, unbreakable promises of God. We are constantly tempted to trust in our own works, our own obedience, our own good intentions to save us rather than the completed, perfect work of Christ. There’s a little Herod and a little Pharisee alive and well inside each of us, too. It’s called the “old Adam,” the sinful flesh.

Like Jerusalem, by nature we are not willing. Left to our own devices, wisdom and intentions we would not be willing to be saved – we would instead insist in saving ourselves. We would not be children of God gathered as chicks under his wing. But Christ has gathered us, against our wills, kicking and screaming at times. Lifted up on the cross he draws all people to himself (John 12:32-33), even those who want him dead and gone. And still today, just as he grieved over Jerusalem 2000 years ago, he grieves when people reject and deny him.

You could say that the history of Jerusalem is a microcosm of God’s dealing with humanity; you could even say it’s a microcosm of how he has dealt with us individually. It’s a history filled with sin, rebellion, stubbornness, idolatry, rejection of the Word and those who preach it. It’s also the history of God’s grace, his undeserved kindness toward sinful humanity, the Word made flesh who was rejected so that God would accept us, who died so that we would live, whose blood covers our sins and whose righteousness becomes ours by faith (Romans 4:5).

Jerusalem has a future, but, thank God, it’s not up to religious or political leaders to work it out. In fact, what utter failures they both are was revealed in 70 AD when the Romans razed Jerusalem to the ground. The next time the city appears in the Bible, it’s in the book of Revelation and it’s coming down from heaven as a bride dressed for her wedding day (Revelation 21). This is the city God has built – Jerusalem redeemed, restored, raised from the dead. Her murders have been atoned for by the sacrifice of the Lamb of God. The blood shed in her streets has been washed away by Jesus’ blood (1 John 1:7). Her streets once littered with stones cast in hatred are now paved in pure gold (Revelation 21:21). The prophets and apostles who met their death inside her gates are now her firm foundation (Ephesians 2:20). And Christ the Lamb is her Light and Life (Revelation 21:23).

And that city, that free city, is where we hold our citizenship. Your Baptism is your proof of citizenship. Our citizenship is in heaven as Paul reminded the Philippians (Philippians 3:20) – those retired soldiers who were so proud of their free city. And the marvel of it all is that we get a foretaste of that whenever the Word is preached, the Absolution pronounced and the Sacraments administered. Through Word and Sacrament Jesus comes and gathers us under his wings, purifies us from our sins, assures us that we are his chosen people. Here in the presence of our Lord and our fellow forgiven believers we are freed from the divisiveness of politics and the tyranny of man-made religions that tells us our salvation is up to us. And it all points ahead to a day that will bring all religion and politics as we know it to an end. A day when Jesus will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body (Philippians 3:21), and the heavenly city will be the only city there is – free of works-based religion, free of the polarization of politics, filled only with the glory of the Lamb and the people he has gathered under his care for time and eternity. That day is coming.

But until then, don’t make the mistake of Herod and the Pharisees, and the people of Jerusalem – don’t reject him when he comes to you, don’t seek excuses to avoid being served by him, don’t miss a chance to lay your sins on him and be forgiven. Come here often to take shelter under his wings – because the day is coming when not just Jerusalem, but this entire world will be blasted by God’s judgment and left desolate, and only those who have accepted Jesus’ invitation and taken shelter in his forgiveness will be able to say: blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Amen.   

Matthew 26:6-16; 27:-10 - Judas Iscariot: Not My Messiah but the Son of God? - March 9, 2022

From the perspective of believers, those who have tasted and seen that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8), unbelief is always a mystery. We have difficulty comprehending why anyone would reject the free gifts of forgiveness, life and salvation. But Judas Iscariot’s unbelief is a special kind of mystery. Jesus had personally called Judas to faith and to join his inner circle as an apostle (Luke 6:16). He had been with Jesus for three years, an eyewitness of his miracles and preaching. And after all of that…he betrayed Jesus to his enemies for thirty pieces of silver. Afterwards, he was so filled with remorse that he ended his own life. His betrayal was no worse than Peter’s denial (Luke 22:54-62) – not in the eyes of God (Romans 3:23), but Peter repented and lived while Judas despaired and died. It’s a mystery that almost defies explanation.

One issue we have in understanding Judas Iscariot is that we don’t know very much about him. Matthew, Mark and Luke all refer to him as the one who had betrayed [Jesus] in their gospels (Matthew 10:4; Mark 3:19; Luke 6:16). John revealed that he was the apostolic treasurer who was also a thief (John 12:5-6). Beyond that, we don’t know much for sure. His surname, Iscariot, potentially offers a bit more information. Bible scholars are divided on what this name means. Some identify it as a reference to Judas’ hometown, that he was “Judas of Kerioth” – a town in southern Judea. Others argue that “Iscariot” is derived from the word sicarii – a reference to the kind of short, easily concealed sword that radical Jewish Zealots carried. These Zealots were revolutionaries who wanted to get rid of the Roman colonial rule by force. It’s likely that Barabbas, the man the crowd chose to have released over Jesus, was one of these Zealots (Luke 23:19). If this is true, we can venture an educated guess as to why Judas rejected Jesus as his Messiah.

Like most Jews, the Zealots were longing for the promised Messiah. However, they were waiting for the wrong kind of Messiah. The Zealots were fierce nationalists who believed God had promised to send a Messiah who would reestablish the physical kingdom of David. In their minds the Messiah would bring liberation from political oppression, economic prosperity and a restoration of pure worship to the Jews. They longed for the “glory days” of David and Solomon and were willing to fight to get them back.

At first, it may have appeared to some that Jesus was this kind of Messiah. He fulfilled all of the OT prophecies. His miracles proved that he was someone who could conquer Satan, sickness, and even death itself with only a word or touch. He was a powerful speaker who could gather a crowd. But three years into his campaign it was clear that he was not training or recruiting an army; no sabotage or assassinations were being planned. After three years, it may have dawned on Judas that Jesus was never going to start a revolution against Rome. People often try to divine Judas’ motive for selling Jesus out for thirty pieces of silver, the price set by God in the OT for a slave who has been killed (Exodus 21:32). Some think he was trying to force Jesus’ hand – compelling him to instigate an uprising in order to avoid imprisonment or death. Others think that Judas considered Jesus to be a phony, so he was going to cut his losses and get what he could out of it. But Scripture forbids us to judge motives (1 Corinthians 4:5) – and, in the end, what difference would it make, even if we did know? In other words, the point is not why Judas did what he did; the point is that Judas did what he did: he betrayed Jesus. For one reason or another, he was not the kind of Messiah Judas was waiting for.

That problem wasn’t unique to Judas. After feeding the 5000, when the people were ready to crown him their “bread” king (earthly king) Jesus literally ran for the hills (John 6:15). Jesus called Peter Satan because he didn’t accept that Jesus had to suffer and die (Matthew 16:21-23). The near-constant bickering among the apostles over who was greatest was rooted in a false understanding of the kind of kingdom Jesus had come to bring (Mark 9:33-37; Luke 22:24-30). Even after his resurrection, the disciples who were walking on the road to Emmaus were moping because had been hoping that Jesus had come to be their earthly Savior (Luke 24:21).

This expectation isn’t unique to the people of Jesus’ day either. I get calls and emails from community groups asking for our help in one way or another; to offer our space for their use, to help with a fundraiser, etc. When I tell them that Risen Savior exists to preach and teach the gospel, pronounce forgiveness, and administer the sacraments – they quickly lose interest; Jesus isn’t the kind of Messiah they’re looking for. It’s not just the outside world, though, is it? When we are suffering physically, financially, psychologically and emotionally – don’t we expect, demand even, Jesus to heal, to fix, to solve our earthly issues, now? And when he doesn’t, don’t we doubt his power and love. Whenever we demand Jesus to fit into a mold, a box, of our own making, we are acting no different than Judas. We are rejecting Jesus because he’s not the kind of Messiah we want. We are sinning. We need to repent.

It might be hard to believe, but we can learn something from Judas; two things actually. First, unlike Pilate, the chief priests and the crowds who shouted for Jesus’ death, he felt remorse when he realized what he had done. However, the Greek word used for Judas’ remorse (metameletheis) is not the word for true repentance (metanoeo, e.g., Matthew 3:2). Judas felt what Paul called worldly sorrow – but he lacked godly sorrow (2 Corinthians 7:10). Luther explains true repentance in the Small Catechism, “Confession has two parts. The one is that we confess our sins; the other, that we receive absolution or forgiveness from the pastor as from God himself, not doubting but firmly believing that our sins are thus forgiven before God in heaven” (SC Confession: I). Judas certainly exhibited the first part of confession – he confessed his sin of betrayal to the chief priests and the elders, but – at least partly because those supposed spiritual leaders were merciless false teachers – he lacked the faith that his sin could be forgiven. And second, even though Judas lacked saving faith in Jesus, his words do reveal that he had changed his mind about him. He said: I have sinned by betraying innocent blood. Judas may not have trusted Jesus for forgiveness; but with his last words he added his voice to the chorus of witnesses which testify that Jesus truly is the Son of God.

Judas didn’t have to die in despair. He could have looked to Jesus and lived forever. Unbelievable as it may sound, Jesus died and paid for Judas’ sin of betrayal, too. But Judas cut himself off from Jesus, he despaired because of his sin and he died…eternally (Acts 1:25). The mystery of how this happened; how Judas could have known Jesus of Nazareth, walked with him, talked with him, witnessed his miracles and heard his teaching – but not trusted Jesus as his Messiah, his Savior – that mystery remains.

What cannot remain in our hearts or minds is any rejection of Jesus for not being the kind of Messiah we want or expect. The dark final days of Judas’ life and his eternal death are a warning to us: don’t ever, ever turn away from Jesus, not even when you think your sins have disqualified you from his love. We’ve all had those times, haven’t we? When our sins are so wicked, so haunting, so hurtful to others and offensive to God that we can’t imagine we could ever be forgiven. Satan loves to remind us of those sins to try to convince us that we are unworthy to be called children of God. He tries to drive us deep into the pit of despair.

So what can we do? Well, there are only two routes out of the pit of despair. We can take the route Judas took – to try to hide our sins, hide them from others, hide them from Jesus. We can try to get rid of Jesus; avoiding his Word and ignoring calls to repent. But that gets us nowhere. The Bible tells us that the same Jesus who knows how many hairs are on our heads (Luke 12:7) also knows what sins live in our hearts (Romans 8:27). Like Judas we can try to cover up our sin; we can try to pay for it – maybe not with 30 pieces of silver but with additional effort or striving; or we can try to drown our aching, guilty hearts in busyness or substances or even suicide – but Judas’ sad story proves that holding onto sin and guilt leads only to death – now and eternally.

So what’s the other route? What can we possibly do when the ache of sin is so deep that we can’t even look at ourselves in the mirror, much less look to God or call on him as our Father? That’s when we must look to Jesus. That’s when we need to remember that Jesus knew all along exactly what Judas was going to do and yet he called him to be his disciple and endured his betrayal anyway (Psalm 41:9), because he knew it was the only way he could fulfill his Father’s plan and pay for the sins of the world. Remember that Jesus never gave up on Judas even when he gave Jesus up to his enemies. That’s when we need to look through our tear-filled eyes to the cross to remember that Jesus really is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the whole world (1 John 2:2). That’s when we need to remember the irrevocable promise God gave us when we were baptized, that whoever believes and is baptized will be saved (Mark 16:16). That’s when we need to hear from the lips of another Christian – whether it’s a pastor, a friend, a spouse or even a child – “for Jesus’ sake, your sins are forgiven.” That’s when we need to come, crawling if we have to, up to this altar to receive the body and blood of our Lord and to hear the assurance that no matter what we have done, no matter how far we have fallen, no matter how we have betrayed our Savior – no matter what, his body was given and his blood was shed FOR YOU for the forgiveness of all of your sins!

Judas Iscariot is a cautionary tale of despair and an example of the mystery of unbelief. With his own lips he testified that Jesus was who he claimed to be: the innocent, sinless Son of God. But drawn by the devil into a pit of self-pity and despair, he rejected Jesus as his Savior, his Messiah. May Judas’ example teach us the lesson that he robbed himself of the chance to relearn: Jesus really is the Son of God, and because he is, he is able to be the Savior of real sinners, even really bad sinners, sinners like you and me. Amen.

Luke 4:1-13 - It's Really Tempting - March 6, 2022

When was the last time you were really tempted? Tempted to do, say or think something that you know you shouldn’t; tempted to defy God’s Word and will? I’m guessing that most of us don’t have to think back too far. On the other hand, if you can’t think of the last time you were really tempted – then that’s an even bigger problem. It means that you’ve given up the struggle; you’ve given in to your sinful nature and the devil has you. But back to the original question: what was the nature of the temptation? Were you tempted to place something or someone before God in your life; to keep your faith quiet and hidden; to prioritize Netflix over devotion and prayer; to disrespect parents and others in authority; to harbor hatred or grudges in your heart; to lust after someone who is not your spouse – maybe just a pixelated image on a screen; to file a shady tax return; to slander or gossip about others on social media; to covet someone else’s house, car, family or life? Maybe you only have to think back to earlier this morning when you were tempted to stay in your nice warm bed or skip church for a nice, long brunch or maybe you’re being tempted right now to tune me out because it’s not pleasant to be forced to look into the mirror of the law. Temptations are all around us…and they often come from directions and at times we don’t expect. So many things in this fallen world are really tempting. And so is our text for this morning.

It's really tempting that Jesus wasn’t really tempted. I mean, he’s true God isn’t he? Isn’t that what God himself declared at Jesus’ baptism? You are my Son (Luke 3:22). And how Luke’s genealogical record of Jesus ends: the son of Adam, the son of God (Luke 3:38). (Both of which, probably not coincidentally, Luke places right before Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.) And doesn’t James 1:13 state categorically that God cannot be tempted by evil? How can this even be called a temptation? Where’s the struggle in the almighty God facing off with a fallen angel? But the Bible is also clear that Jesus is also true man, as we heard in Hebrews, that he is one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are (Hebrews 4:15). So which is it? Is Jesus the untemptable Son of God or a vulnerable flesh and blood human being? The Bible’s answer is: both. The Bible doesn’t tell us to understand or reconcile these seemingly irreconcilable truths; it tells us to believe and confess them. The point is that, if we’re tempted to pass over Jesus’ temptation as if it were just a simulation, just make-believe, we’re wrong.

These were real temptations. Jesus felt just like you feel when something, some sin is really tempting. His mouth watered; his heart fluttered; he ached like you ache when something you really, really want is dangling right in front of you – and you know you shouldn’t have it but you still really want it. Luke tells us that at the end of forty days without eating, Jesus was hungry – so it was obviously really tempting for him to make a loaf of bread for himself…even more tempting than it is for you or I to snag one of those warm cheese curds out of the bag on your way home from Culvers.

In the same way, it was really tempting for Jesus to bow down and worship the devil in order to gain all power and authority in the world – after all, hadn’t God promised Jesus rule over all the kingdoms of the world (Psalm 2)? Do you see how alluring, how appealing, how tempting this would have been for him? All the authority he had been promised – but no betrayal, no denial, no whips, no spit, no mocking, no condemnation, no shame, no nakedness, no cross, no hell, no death. The devil offered Jesus all the power and glory of Easter without the pain and shame of Good Friday. It was really tempting.

The third temptation, however, had to be the worst of all. The devil says if you are the Son of God…throw yourself down from here, because it is written: “He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you.” And, “they will lift you up with their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” Put yourself in Jesus’ shoes for a moment. At your baptism God the Father and Holy Spirit both testified to the truth that you are God’s beloved Son. And then, almost immediately, that same Holy Spirit leads you out into a wilderness to be starved and tempted by the devil for forty days. Throughout all three temptations, the devil seems to be the one in control. He’s the one leading you from the wilderness to a high mountain to the pinnacle of the temple. Would you really feel like the beloved Son of God if your own Father allowed this to happen to you? Certainly Jesus must have ached for some external sign that he was still God’s beloved Son. Certainly it was really tempting to force his Father to put his money (that is, his promises) where his mouth was by stepping off of the temple.

Jesus is both true God and true man; the son of Adam and the son of God (Luke 3:38) – but these were real temptations, real battles between himself and the devil. What’s important to note is that Jesus didn’t defeat the devil as the Son of God but as a Son of Man. Jesus didn’t use any miracles, no divine power or privilege or prerogative to call upon legions of angels that he had as God. He entered the battle armed with nothing more than we have. He had his baptism which testified that he was indeed God’s beloved Son. He had God’s Word that sustains us where bread alone never will; no matter how much you have. He had the Old Testament which testified throughout that it was necessary for him to face suffering before entering glory; that the cross had to come before the crown. These were all that Jesus used to resist the very real temptations of the devil. Jesus didn’t overcome the devil by using his divine powers; no, he overcame the devil simply by quoting the book of Deuteronomy three times.

It’s really tempting to believe that because Jesus is God there was no real tempting going on or that it was easy for him to overcome the devil. It’s also really tempting to believe that Jesus is essentially providing us with a DIY example of how to defeat the devil ourselves. It’s really tempting to think of Jesus as our great example here and try to develop a step-by-step program for dealing with temptation. There’s no doubt about it, the devil tempts us in much the same way as he tempted Jesus. The devil tempts us to fill our bellies, that is, satisfy whatever fleshly desires we have, now; to sacrifice our morality and integrity – that is, to disobey God’s will and instead obey the devil’s – in order to attain wealth and power and glory, now; to test the limits of God’s promises in order to find proof that I really am his child, now. In other words, the devil’s temptations can be boiled down to this: sex, money, glory, power, popularity and health. Admittedly the temptations vary according to our age – but these are the temptations that are common to everyone – including you and me.

So it’s really tempting to believe that we’re supposed to use what Jesus does here to defeat the devil as an example. To think that we’re supposed to pick up the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God (Ephesians 6:17), and use it to slay the devil just like Jesus did. If you’re tempted to believe that, first consider this: 1) If perfect, sinless Adam and Eve were not able to overcome the devil, what makes us think we can? 2) If Peter, who was with Jesus in the flesh, could go from being blessed by God on account of his good confession to being Satan and denying Christ, what makes you think that you will fare any better (Matthew 16:13-23)? Here's what Martin Luther had to say about doing battle with the devil: “Do not argue at all with the devil and his temptations or accusations and arguments, nor, by the example of Christ, refute them. Just keep silent altogether; turn away and hold him in contempt. For no one conquers the devil by arguing with him, since he is incomparably more clever than all of us” (LW 10:182).

Ok, so then what’s the point? What does Jesus’ temptation have to do with our daily battles with the devil? It doesn’t tell us that we are lined up behind David, just waiting our turn to go head-to-head with Goliath. It tells us that we are spectators watching as our David, Jesus, defeats our enemy for us. This story doesn’t tell us how to conquer the devil; it tells us that Jesus has conquered the devil for us! In other words, Jesus is reversing what happened in the Garden of Eden. Humanity’s biggest problem isn’t that Russia invaded Ukraine or that racial tensions are high or that men and women are constantly talking past each other. Humanity’s biggest problem is that sin entered the world through one man and death through sin (Romans 5:12). Adam was a perfect man, in a perfect world, with a perfect wife by his side, surrounded by a paradise of food, water and life – and he gave in to the devil’s temptations. Jesus, the perfect man, in a fallen world, with no one by his side, in a wilderness devoid of food, water or life – withstood the attacks of the devil. Paul explains the result: just as one trespass led to a verdict of condemnation for all people, so also one righteous verdict led to life-giving justification for all people. For just as through the disobedience of one man the many became sinners, so also through the obedience of one man the many will become righteous (Romans 5:18-19).

This is called Jesus’ active obedience. Jesus actively kept all of God’s laws, perfectly. Without this, we would still have the Law of God hanging over our heads shouting: “Do this perfectly if you want to be saved” – when we know perfectly well that we haven’t and can’t keep it perfectly. More important, without Jesus’ active obedience, his passive obedience – his suffering and death are meaningless. If Jesus didn’t lead a perfect life than he was only suffering and dying for his own sins, not ours.

These words assure us that because Jesus stood perfect against the devil, when the hammer of God’s wrath, judgment and damnation came down on him – it was our sins that were being paid for. What we see Jesus suffering and enduring in Lent, he does for us; for me, for you. Jesus is paying for every time I’ve given into my sinful, fleshly desires. Jesus is paying for my sin of seeking sinful shortcuts to money and pleasure and power. Jesus is paying for my sin of trusting medicine, science and exercise to preserve my life when it’s really the Word of God. And when we see Jesus forsaken by his Father on the cross it is proof that the Father will never forsake us.

It is really tempting to twist what Jesus did in that wilderness into what I must do to withstand temptation – but if I could do that, then I wouldn’t need Jesus. An example doesn’t do me any good. I need a Savior. When real temptations come – and they will: when your mouth waters, your heart pounds and the urge to reach out for that forbidden fruit is overpowering – you don’t have to try to be like Jesus and fight with the devil – because you will lose every time. Instead, run away from the devil and run to Jesus. When tempted, don’t think about the bread you don’t have but the Bread of Life you do in Communion; don’t think about the hard things like sickness and suffering that lie before you but the crown of glory Jesus has already won and given you in Baptism; don’t think about testing God’s love for you, hear the assurance of his love in the Absolution.

In short, resisting temptation isn’t about asking yourself what Jesus would do but about holding up what Jesus has done and delivered to you in Word and Sacrament as your shield. Even the devil himself can’t overcome that. Amen.

John 3:1-21; 19:39 - Nicodemus: From Cowardly Agnostic to Bold Confessor - March 2, 2022

You might be wondering why we just read most of John 3 in a midweek Lenten service. It’s not complicated. In the verse we read from chapter 19, John identifies Nicodemus as the man who earlier had come to Jesus at night. We read John 3 to learn Nicodemus’ backstory. Here’s what we know. He was a man of the Pharisees. In many ways, the Pharisees were the most (outwardly) moral people in all of Israel; they spent their entire lives trying to observe the law – both God’s and their own man-made ones – down to the letter. This is the main reason they hated Jesus: they were obsessed with the letter of the Law while Jesus was concerned with the spirit of it. The Pharisees figured that they could earn God’s favor with their pitiful obedience and sacrifices; Jesus insisted that the only way to achieve favor with God is through grace alone (Matthew 9:13). Nicodemus was also a member of the Jewish ruling council, the Sanhedrin. Made up of seventy members plus the high priest, the Sanhedrin was the supreme court of the Jews. It had religious jurisdiction over every Jew everywhere, and one of its primary duties was to examine and deal with anyone who was suspected of being a false prophet. Finally, we know that Nicodemus must have been wealthy, because Nicodemus brought 72 pounds of myrrh and aloes with which to bury Jesus. (Earlier, Judas had estimated that just one pound of perfume could have been sold for 300 days’ wages (John 12:5).) But more important than what we can learn about Nicodemus is what we learn about Jesus through Nicodemus; that is, that Nicodemus’ path from cowardly, agnostic unbelief to bold faith proves that Jesus truly is the Son of God.

Nicodemus’ cowardly agnosticism – that is, his sitting on the fence; his remaining undecided about Jesus – is well-documented. We’ll start near the end of the story. Nicodemus was a member of the Sanhedrin which arrested Jesus and placed him on trial in the middle of the night (Matthew 26:57-68). We can’t say with certainty what role Nicodemus played in the proceedings. Perhaps he hadn’t been informed of the meeting or maybe he spoke against even initiating the trial and was ignored. But more likely Nicodemus had either excused himself or he had remained silent throughout the whole thing. In any case, it appears that Nicodemus’ faith on that Thursday night was not what it would become by Friday afternoon. The tragedy is that, on this infamous night, uncertainty silenced the voice of a witness who could have given the public testimony that truly this man was the Son of God (Mark 15:39).

Nicodemus’ silence is understandable, or at least explainable. You and I are often silent when we’re uncertain about something. In fact, it’s usually wise to remain silent when you’re uncertain about something. “Is spring almost here?” “Will the Russians capture Kyiv?” “Will the lifting of the mask mandate be permanent?” It’s best to remain silent on such uncertain issues. Nicodemus was uncertain. He was uncertain in his faith because he was uncertain about Jesus. He was unconverted. He was like so many who would gladly accept the forgiveness of sins, life and salvation that God offers – but doubt that these blessings can possibly come from this man called Jesus of Nazareth. It’s the never-ending battle between faith and reason. It just doesn’t seem reasonable that these blessings could come from a flesh and blood man. You witness that battle between faith and reason in Nicodemus’ first meeting with Jesus. He said rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do these miraculous signs you are doing unless God is with him. Jesus answered Amen, amen, I tell you: Unless someone is born from above, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus probed this assertion: How can a man be born when he is old? He cannot enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born, can he? That’s when Jesus explained the invisible reality about conversion; how a person is really brought to faith: Amen, amen, I tell you: Unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God! Whatever is born of the flesh is flesh. Whatever is born of the Spirit is spirit. Already at that first meeting, Jesus made it perfectly clear that saving faith – conversion – doesn’t come from human effort, reason or intuition but by the work of the Holy Spirit.

But that just raises another question: what does it mean to believe; what exactly is saving faith? The Bible tells us that saving faith consists of three parts: 1) Knowledge (John 17:3). Obviously a person must know about Jesus before they can believe in him. But bare knowledge isn’t enough. Nicodemus knew about Jesus and he still didn’t believe. 2) Assent (1 Thessalonians 2:13). Assent means saying “amen” to the truth about Jesus; agreeing that it is true. Nicodemus clearly had this; he agreed that Jesus had said and done divine things. And the final and most important part is 3) trust (2 Timothy 1:12). Saving faith trusts – more than anything in the world – that all that Jesus did, he did for me, he did to save me from hell and give me heaven. This is the heart of the Spirit’s work.

There’s a somewhat famous illustration of the difference between cowardly agnosticism and saving faith. For some reason, daredevils have always been drawn to Niagara Falls. Suppose one of them came up with a plan to stretch a tightrope across the falls and walk over it. Nicodemus – and other agnostics like him – would say, “Yeah, I think this guy is just crazy enough to make it across.” But imagine that this daredevil asks for volunteers to sit on his shoulders while he walks across the tightrope. The agnostic, passive spectator – the Nicodemus – says, “Jesus’ words and works seem to line up with his claim to be the Son of God and the Savior. But for now, let’s just wait and see how it all plays out.” The person with saving faith says, “Sign me up! I trust him to get him over safely.” That’s the difference. Faith is the willingness to trust in Jesus above and before all other things. Ultimately, saving faith trusts that Jesus can and will carry you across the tightrope of death into eternal life. It’s tragic that Nicodemus lacked that faith despite having seen the evidence with his own eyes. It’s just as tragic when or if we doubt that Jesus is the Son of God and our Savior – despite having witnessed the truth with our own eyes and ears. Doubt is not a virtue; it’s a sin we need to repent of (John 20:27).

But the most amazing part of Nicodemus’ story is not that he doubted Jesus’ identity despite having witnessed Jesus’ divine words and works during his life. The really amazing part is that Jesus’ death did what his life didn’t: it blew the wind of the Holy Spirit over his heart, converting him from passive spectator to bold, confessing believer. It took Jesus’ death for Nicodemus to put the pieces together; to see Jesus lifted up on a cross, just like he had said (John 3:14-15). No sooner had Jesus breathed his last than the Holy Spirit breathed on Nicodemus. He publicly confessed his fledgling faith – in full view of his fellow Pharisees who had conspired to have Jesus killed – by bringing 72 pounds of spices with which to bury Jesus’ body. In just an instant, his doubt, his cowardice, his silence evaporated.

But while it is amazing, it shouldn’t be surprising, because Jesus had promised that this very thing would happen: and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself (John 12:32). Up until now doubt and uncertainty had kept Nicodemus silent and hidden. But now the Holy Spirit had brought the power of the cross to bear on Nicodemus’ heart. The cross had drawn him to Jesus. The power of the cross had turned this passive, objective spectator into an active participant. By bringing his offering of myrrh and aloes, Nicodemus was making an irreversible, public confession that Jesus was the Christ. Nicodemus’ path from agnosticism to faith are a powerful witness to the reality that: “Truly this is the Son of God.”

What about us? We might think that our faith would be firmer, our hope surer, our confession more confident if we had been there to witness Jesus’ life and death with Nicodemus, but we’d be wrong. Not wrong in the sense that witnessing Jesus’ life and death don’t form the basis of saving faith – but wrong in the sense that we haven’t witnessed them. We have, we are, we will be witnesses of Jesus’ life and death – that’s not only what our reading of the Passion History each week in Lent is about; that’s what the entire Christian church year is about: witnessing again and again Jesus’ words and works; his life and death! At the same time, what Jesus told Nicodemus is true of us too: unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God! This Lent, don’t just listen to the Passion History as a passive spectator – as if you’re listening to something on the radio. Listen to it as an active participant – as if this story is about you – because it is! Jesus’ Passion is your passion. His life, death and resurrection are your life, death and resurrection through baptism (Romans 6:3). We are not merely passive or silent spectators of Jesus’ passion – we are right there with him, suffering and dying and rising through the power of the Spirit. As Christians, we confess that while, for us, Lent is about Jesus; for Jesus, Lent is about us. May this truth drive all doubt and cowardice out of our hearts and turn us into bold, confessing believers – just as it did for Nicodemus.

What will this bold confession look like? Well, obviously we can’t travel with Nicodemus to meet Jesus in the dark of night or to help prepare his body for the grave, but every time we remember our baptism, every time we drive to church early in the morning or late at night, every time we confess our sins and are absolved, every time we receive the Sacrament, pray out loud before a meal in a busy restaurant, prioritize worship over sports and recreation for ourselves and our children – by the grace and power of the Holy Spirit – we are standing shoulder to shoulder with Nicodemus, confessing boldly and publicly: “truly, this is the Son of God.” Amen.

Luke 9:28-36 - Jesus Is Transfigured - February 27, 2022

I’m pretty confident that everyone here – even our Sunday school children – would be able to explain the significance of important Christian days like Christmas, Good Friday, and Easter. Jesus was born. Jesus died. Jesus rose again. But what about this day: Transfiguration. What is this day all about? Sadly, many Christian churches don’t celebrate or even recognize the Transfiguration of our Lord anymore for reasons we will touch on briefly. But that doesn’t change the fact that Jesus was transfigured. Why? That’s the question. For our benefit now and eternally Luke’s Gospel will provide the answer.

As we have noted throughout the Epiphany season, all of Jesus’ miracles serve one main purpose: to prove that he is the Son of God, one with and equal to the Father and the Holy Spirit. And that’s not merely Lutheran tradition or opinion but the clear declaration of Scripture. John writes: Jesus, in the presence of his disciples, did many other miraculous signs that are not written in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name (John 20:30-31). All of the miracles Jesus did during his earthly ministry reveal him as the Son of God, and these miracles reach their climax in the Transfiguration, the one and only time Jesus fully revealed his glory on earth.

Unfortunately, it has become disturbingly common today to downplay, distort, dismiss and even deny these miracles. We are told that enlightened and educated 21st century people no longer believe in miracles, so if the Christian Church wants to maintain its influence and relevance it needs to stop insisting that Jesus actually turned water into wine (John 2:1-11), calmed a stormy sea with a word (Luke 8:22-25), fed over 5000 with a boy’s lunch (Luke 9:10-17), and instantly healed sick people with a touch or a word (Luke 6:17-19). We need to stop saying that these miracles actually happened because according to modern science, they couldn’t have. But if you buy in to that – and still insist on labelling yourself a Christian – then you’ve put yourself in something of a bind. If these miracles didn’t actually happen, then what do you do with them? You can’t pretend they’re not there – they’ve been attested to on the pages of Scripture for 2000 years. You can’t just cut them out – all you’d be left with is the sad story of a poor, illegitimate Jewish boy who spoke eloquently and seemed to have some potential but wound up ticking off the wrong people and getting himself killed. No good news there. Since false teachers can’t get rid of the miracles, what do they do with them? They do what the media today does – they pick an angle that matches their preferred narrative and repackage and repurpose the story to fit it. False teachers will often repackage Jesus’ miracles as parables which teach us how we can make this world a better place. Ironically, they end up doing exactly what Peter was trying to do when he tried to stake down three tents on that mountain: establish heaven on earth. This narrative is called the social gospel. Thus the feeding of the 5000 is repackaged as a call for the church to establish food pantries and feed the hungry. The healing of the sick is repurposed to validate faith-healings today. Jesus may not have actually calmed a storm on the Sea of Galilee, but he is saying that we should watch our carbon emissions and do everything in our power to stop climate change. This narrative supposedly makes the church relevant and Jesus’ miracles meaningful (and acceptable) to 21st century Americans. Did you notice what is left out of this narrative? Sin and grace; there’s lots of law but no gospel; heaven and hell.

While it is true that most of Jesus’ miracles did relieve the real pain and suffering of real people in real ways – this social gospel theory hits a roadblock when it reaches the miracle before us today: Jesus’ transfiguration. There’s no doubt that the transfiguration was a miraculous event: Jesus’ face was transformed; and his clothing became dazzling white, Moses and Elijah were there – alive and talking, God spoke from heaven. The transfiguration was a miracle. But this miracle didn’t solve any physical, financial or environmental problems. This miracle apparently did nothing more than scare Peter, James and John to death. So what did it accomplish? It confirmed to their eyes the Word proclaimed by the voice from heaven: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” It’s hard to twist this miracle into some sort of social gospel narrative – which is why it’s become acceptable in large segments of Christianity to classify “problem” miracles like this one, the six-day creation, the virgin birth, the resurrection, as myths. Things that never really happened, but were instead invented by the early church to boost Jesus’ reputation so that people would listen to his social and moral message.

Such people think that twisting the Word of God like this is brilliant and innovative, but it’s pretty clear that this was happening already in the days of the apostles. Peter wrote: to be sure, we were not following cunningly devised fables when we made known to you the powerful majesty of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father, when the voice came to him from within the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” We heard this voice, which came out of heaven when we were with him on the holy mountain (2 Peter 1:16). Peter is unequivocal in stating that he, James and John saw these things with their own eyes and heard them with their own ears. Peter testifies that Jesus is the Son of God – and that his miracles – especially his transfiguration – prove it. And so, as we stand with those disciples and see Jesus’ transfiguration – we too should walk away with the firm conviction that this Jesus is indeed the Son of God. Because if we leave this mountain today with that conviction, then we will be well prepared for Lent.

Why is this so important? Because only when we believe who Jesus is, will we appreciate what he came to do. Luke introduced our text by saying about eight days after he said these words… What had Jesus said eight days earlier? The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and experts in the law. He must be killed and be raise on the third day (Luke 9:22). And when Moses and Elijah appeared what they were talking with Jesus about? His departure (literally – his exodus), which he was going to bring to fulfillment in Jerusalem. In any other circumstance, this conversation would be shocking and disturbing. If you or I were to casually mention that we were preparing for imminent death, it would sound like we were planning to commit suicide, it would be viewed as a cry for help. But in the company of Moses and Elijah it was only proper that Jesus would discuss his impending death. Everything God had inspired Moses and Elijah to preach and write pointed ahead to this man and this moment: the promised Messiah who would take away the sins of the world by paying for them with his death (John 5:39); which assures us that the ugly, unjust, brutal events of Jesus’ passion weren’t simply the result of tragic circumstances or the culmination of the plans of some evil men – but that God’s plan from eternity called for Jesus to willingly suffer and die for the sins of the world.

In that sense, this preparation was not so much for Jesus as much as it was for those three disciples and for us. Just like staring at a bright light burns an image onto your cornea, so Jesus wanted his glory to be etched on his disciples’ memories. He wanted this view of glory to strengthen their faith for the testing it would undergo when they would later see him fall on his face in the Garden of Gethsemane and agonize over the suffering that was to come (Luke 22:39-46); when they would deny and abandon him in his moment of greatest need (Luke 22:54-62); when they would see him arrested and hauled off like some violent criminal (Luke 22:47-53); when they would see him mocked and beaten (Luke 22:63-65), nailed to a cross and buried in a tomb (Luke 23:50-56). When Peter, James, and John finally put all the pieces together after the resurrection, he wanted them to recall this day on the mountain and understand that it had to be this way; that according to God’s plan Jesus had to be betrayed and convicted, whipped and beaten and crucified – because only his blood, the priceless blood of the Son of God, could atone for the sins of the world.

As we prepare to step out of the bright, revealing light of Epiphany onto the dark road of Jesus’ Passion in Lent; from witnessing the heights of Jesus’ glory to the depths of his humiliation, keeping this image of him in glory on the Mount of Transfiguration in our minds will also help us to understand and believe. To understand that this was God’s plan all along. Jesus, God’s only begotten Son, had to die – not because he was forced to by the treacherous actions of Judas or the murderous intentions of the civil and religious authorities – but because he wanted to die for us; and then, second, to firmly believe that because this man is the Son of God, his bleeding and dying is enough to wipe away all of our sins and give us the hope of eternal life.

But before we leave this mountain to follow Jesus through the literal shadow of death, we receive a preview of the glory of eternal life. This, in the end, is why we must never doubt, but firmly believe and confess that Jesus’ miracles – from the virgin birth to his resurrection and ascension – are true, historical events and not merely myths or parables that can be “repackaged” to fit a narrative that’s supposedly more acceptable in the 21st century. We must stand firm on this because there is no real hope to be found otherwise. People today have real needs, real weaknesses, real problems – and they really need help – that much the liberal, Bible-twisting, social gospel preaching churches have right. But their solutions are dead wrong. Real hope for the poor in this world can’t be found in churches who fill bellies but starve faith. Real hope for the sick in this world won’t be found in churches that seek to heal bodies but poison their souls. Real hope for the future doesn’t lie in curbing carbon emissions or controlling the climate. (Remember: Peter tried to stake down heaven on earth – and, according to all three Gospel accounts – Jesus didn’t even dignify his foolishness with a response.) The only real hope that anyone in this world can have is that this Jesus is God’s Son whose death on a cross satisfied God’s wrath and opened the door to eternal life.

That’s what Moses and Elijah do – they give us a preview of the glory to come. Do you realize how remarkable it was that Moses and Elijah were there? Moses had been dead for 1400 years (Deuteronomy 34:1-12), and the Lord had swept Elijah out of this world in a whirlwind around 700 years earlier (2 Kings 2) – and yet here they stand before the disciples’ eyes, talking with Jesus about his suffering and death. The lessons they teach can’t be overstated: 1) Heaven is real and all those who have died in faith are living with the Lord there in glory. 2) It teaches us to keep this life in its proper perspective: to remember that this life is preparation for the next; that our 70 or 80 years here – whether those years are filled with pain or pleasure – are only a drop in a bucket compared to the ocean of glory of the eternal life Jesus has in store for us. So on those hard days – those days of pain and sorrow, those days when you are walking through your own personal valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4) – remember this preview of glory on the Mount of Transfiguration; remember and believe that even though there will never be a heaven on earth – Jesus came to earth in order to bring us to heaven!

But you can only have that comfort, conviction and assurance – and that future – if you believe that the Transfiguration of Jesus was a real, historical event now. That’s why we can’t twist God’s Word to fit the social gospel narrative we’re told we need to be preaching in the 21st century – no matter how popular or relevant or acceptable it seems. Because the only real hope for every single person in this world is not the social gospel – it’s not in attempting to create heaven on earth. The only hope this world has is Jesus. Jesus, whose transfiguration on that mountain proves his deity, prepares us for his death, and gives us a preview of his (and our) future glory. May the Holy Spirit grant us the faith to believe that Jesus is our one and only hope now so that one day, when we are standing with him in his glory with Moses and Elijah; Peter, James and John we too will say: master, it is good for us to be here. Amen.  

Luke 6:27-38 - Get Even with Love - February 20, 2022

I don’t normally ask for congregational participation in the sermon, but today I am. Complete these sentences: Revenge (or, vengeance) is __________. Don’t get mad, get _____________. Is there anything sweeter than getting even with someone who’s wronged you? Oh, it feels so good to cut that social media bully down to size with your own slanderous screed; to lay on the horn, maybe flip the bird at that guy who cut you off on the beltline; to spill a couple shovels-full of snow on the sidewalk of the guy who dumped his slushy mess on yours. Or maybe it’s the kind of revenge that lives on after we’re gone: writing someone out of your will for the way they’ve treated you while you were alive – it doesn’t get any sweeter than that, does it? Vengeance is so common in our world that some seem to view it as a constitutional right. Someone disrespects or hurts you, you disrespect and hurt them back – that’s only fair. Just like last week, Jesus turns everything upside-down for us, he leads us to get even in a way no human mind ever would have conceived (1 Corinthians 2:9).

Jesus is still speaking to his disciples, which is important to note, because Jesus is not telling us how we must live in order to be saved but rather how those who have been saved will live. Jesus knew that they were living in a society where the principal God had instituted for civil, corporate punishment eye for eye, tooth for tooth (Leviticus 24:20) was an acceptable way to deal with personal conflict. But Jesus outlines a very different method for dealing with those who do you wrong: But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, offer the other too. If someone takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes away your things, do not demand them back. Treat others just as you would want them to treat you.  

It’s clear enough what Jesus is saying here: return love for hate, blessings for curses, prayers for mistreatment; and if someone takes your dignity or property, let them have it and more. But we tend to be skeptical, we tend to think that Jesus can’t be serious, that he seems to be advocating lawlessness and chaos. So it’s just as important to understand what Jesus is not saying as what he is. 1) He’s not saying that we cannot speak up in our own defense when we are wronged. Jesus himself did this when he stood trial before Annas. When one of the temple officials struck him, he didn’t hit him back, but he did say: if I said something wrong…testify about what was wrong. But if I was right, why did you hit me? (John 18:23) 2) Jesus is not saying that we cannot defend ourselves or our loved ones from harm. The 5th commandment demands that we do so. 3) Jesus is not advocating lawlessness (like many are today). He is not denying parents, teachers, police officers or judges the right to discipline and exact punishment as God’s representatives. 4) He is not requiring us to support free-loaders by our charity. Paul’s words still stand: if anyone does not want to work, he should not eat (2 Thessalonians 3:10). So, then, what is Jesus telling us? He’s telling us that personal vengeance is off limits, out-of-bounds, wrong and sinful. He is telling us to love our enemies. Still sounds impossible, doesn’t it? It is. This kind of love is impossible for us…unless it’s been given to us first. Have we received that kind of love?

Paul seems to think so: for at the appointed time, while we were still helpless, Christ died for the ungodly. It is rare indeed that someone will die for a righteous person…But God shows his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6-8) If you think there is someone in your life who deserves your vengeance rather than your love, imagine how God must have felt about us – about you. He created us, body and soul, gave us talents and abilities, families and possessions – but we misuse and abuse those gifts, and we are quick to question, doubt, and blame him when he doesn’t give us what we want. He reveals himself to us in his Word and invites us to regularly receive his gifts of grace – but we regularly despise his Word – we either don’t read it or we place ourselves in judgment over it – and we invent all kinds of excuses to avoid receiving his gifts. In 10 simple Commandments God has laid out his will for our lives – but we do the opposite, we treat them like suggestions, we live as if we know better. In thought, word, and action we’ve treated God as our enemy: we despise his love, curse his name, rob him of his possessions and incessantly ask him for more. And how did God get even with us? He sent his Son to save us. He got even by allowing humanity to do its very worst to his Son – curse him, slap him, whip him, spit on him, parade him through the streets of Jerusalem, strip him naked, nail him to a tree, and sit back in smug satisfaction as he died in front of their eyes. And how did Jesus respond? Father, forgive them (Luke 23:34). If you ever wonder how God would have been perfectly justified in treating us – look to the cross. That’s what we deserved. If you ever wonder how God has treated us – look to the cross. See God’s Son hanging there in your place; suffering for your lovelessness; dying for the times you took vengeance into your own hands. That is how God got even with you.  

We know, believe and confess that, right? Then why is it so hard for us to love our enemies? Why are we so quick to suggest that Jesus can’t actually mean what he says? The biggest reason is that we’re looking the wrong direction: instead of looking at what our God has done for us, we’re looking at (and judging) whether an individual deserves our love or not. It’s real simple. They don’t – but you don’t either, and the fact that God has given us love we don’t deserve is the only reason we can return love for hate, blessings for curses, prayers for mistreatment, our cheeks to violence, and charity to thieves. When that question pops up in your mind – “why should I love my enemies?” It’s not because they deserve it, it’s because God loved you.

Next Jesus tackles the temptation to follow the world’s moral and ethical values: if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? To be sure, even the sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? Even the sinners do the same thing. If you lend to those from whom you expect to be repaid, what credit is that to you? Even the sinners lend to sinners in order to be paid back in full. The way of the world is to do good to your friends and evil to your enemies. But Jesus says, “That’s not how it’s going to be with my disciples. If you want to get even with your enemy, you’re going to break all of society’s rules, you’re going to be radical, you’re going to love your enemies, do good and lend, expecting nothing in return. This marks you as a child of the Most High God who is kind and merciful even to the unthankful and the evil.

It doesn’t make rational sense, but here is where Jesus’ ethic of love proves to be truly divine. Put yourself on the other side of the situation for a moment. You’re the villain. You’re the one who’s wronged someone else. You’ve dragged someone’s name through the mud on social media, and they respond by complimenting your charming family, your beautiful home, or whatever. You’re the one who dumped snow on your neighbor’s sidewalk, and one day you wake up and he’s cleared your driveway for you. You cut someone off on the Beltline, then you blow a tire, and they stop to help. You’ve shown nothing but ingratitude and spite – all but ignored – a relative while they were still alive, and then they die and leave you a generous inheritance. How do you feel? Paul described it as having burning coals dumped on your head (Romans 12:20). That hot feeling of shame and embarrassment is what we call contrition – sorrow over sins. It would lead you to grieve over your sins; to confession and repentance – which, NOT coincidentally, is exactly what God intends his kindness to us to lead to (Romans 2:4). If you really want to get even with an enemy, really cut them to the heart, really break them – show them kindness when they don’t deserve it. Treat them the way God has treated you. And maybe, just maybe, your kindness will lead that person to repent of their sins and seek God’s forgiveness (Matthew 5:16) – and then you will be truly even: you will both be reconciled to each other and to God by the blood of Christ.

Jesus concludes: do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be poured into your lap. In fact, the measure with which you measure will be measured back to you. Imagine a trick or treater showing up at the house of an infamously grumpy old man, expecting, at best, one or two of those gross black and orange wrapped candies and, at worst, a stern warning to get off his porch and never come back. And instead, he brings out a huge bowl full of full-size candy bars and he doesn’t just give you one, he dumps the whole bowl into your bag and when your bag is full he says “shake it around a little to make more room” and pours even more in. When we look at all that God has given us already, both materially and spiritually, we can’t deny that God has been more than generous to us – if you ever doubt that, when you get home today, just stop for a second, look in your fridge, your pantry, your closet, your garage, look at your family; his spiritual blessings far outweigh our sinfulness and lovelessness, his material blessings go above and beyond our daily needs.

But the old Adam keeps kicking up concerns, doesn’t he? “If I love and bless and pray for my enemies; if I turn the other cheek and give away my property, who is going to watch out for me and my well-being? How do I know I will have enough to survive and provide for my family? How can I be sure that evildoers will be punished if I don’t see to it myself? How can I let myself be taken advantage of like that?” You’re not alone if those things concern you. Our sinful natures can invent thousands of reasonable, rational arguments for not loving our enemies; for taking vengeance into our own hands. The answer to those concerns is the same as any other concern we have in life: learn, believe, and trust God’s promises.

What if the love you show an enemy just makes them hate you more? So what? See the kind of love the Father has given us in that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are! (1 John 3:1) If we give generously to those who can’t or won’t repay us, won’t we risk losing the roof over our heads and the clothing on our backs? Look at the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, they don’t labor or spin or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds and clothes them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Hasn’t he promised to give you everything you need for life? (Matthew 6:25-34) What about justice, fairness? If I don’t retaliate people are just going to walk all over me. Trust Paul’s inspired words: Do not take revenge, dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath. For it is written, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay,” says the Lord (Romans 12:19). If vengeance is called for, God vows to take care of it, if not now through his representatives, then on Judgment Day – and he holds the power to not only kill the body but cast the soul into hell (Luke 12:5). Whatever your specific concern might be, remember that you cannot lose anything that God didn’t give you in the first place (not even your life!) and, just as importantly, you cannot ever lose the reward Jesus has won and reserved for you in heaven. Let God worry about taking care of you now. God’s love for you is unconditional, and that frees you to love your enemies, turn the other cheek, be generous with what he has given you because you know that your true reward is safe in heaven – purchased and won for you by Jesus, your…and your enemies’ Savior.

The morally and ethically rotten world around us is destroying itself over its thirst for vengeance (just come to Bible class today to see some very real and present examples). Everywhere you turn, it seems, someone is trying to get even with someone else for something that was done or said – sometimes over things that happened decades if not centuries ago – all in the name of justice. That’s the mainstream today; that’s the way of the world. But that is not the way of Jesus’ disciples. We are to be radicals; we are to be different because, through faith in Jesus – as dearly loved children of the Most High God whose true reward is safe in heaven – we are different. We get even with our enemies the same way God has gotten even with us: with love. Amen.

Luke 6:17-26 - It's Not What You Think - February 13, 2022

The words before us serve as the introduction to what is commonly known as Jesus’ “Sermon on the Plain.” Whether this is the same event as the Sermon on the Mount recorded in Matthew’s gospel – we can’t say with certainty. What is certain is that in a series of four blessings followed by four woes, Jesus is stating categorically that in this life it’s better to have poverty than wealth; hunger than satisfaction; weeping than laughter; and persecution than poverty. And, let’s be honest, this sounds like absolute nonsense. It sounds like Jesus is describing an alternate, upside-down universe. Then again, you may have noticed that nearly everything we do here is considered by most of the unbelieving world as nonsense. We stand before living, breathing, newborn babies and declare that they are dead in sin (Psalm 51:5). We stand before the caskets and urns of dead people and declare that they are only sleeping (Matthew 9:24). We pour tap water into a bowl and call it the fountain of life (Titus 3:5-6), we eat and drink bread and wine and confess it to be the very body and blood of Christ (Matthew 26:26-27). You believe that your sins are forgiven before God in heaven when a pastor says so here on earth (Matthew 16:19). The point is that it’s not really about what you or I or anyone else thinks, sees or feels. It’s about what God says. God says that newborns are dead and dead believers are alive. God says that water and Word give life and bread and wine forgive sins. God says that guilty, repentant sinners are justified and self-righteous hypocrites are not (Luke 18:9-14). What God says: that’s the true reality – and not what you and I can think, reason, feel, or see. And who are we to argue? When God said let there be (Genesis 1) the universe and everything in it came into being! When God sent his Son to earth to make the lame walk, the dead come alive, and liberate those possessed by demons – that’s what happened. When God through his servant says that you are forgiven, justified, saved – right here and right now – you are.

“Fine,” you might say, “but that’s not what Jesus is talking about here. He’s talking about things that hit really close to home: our wealth, our health, our happiness and social status. These things are important to us – not just for one hour on Sunday mornings – but every minute of every day.” So just what is Jesus driving at? Consider the context. People had flocked from all over the region to see Jesus. Why? To hear him and to be healed of their diseases. But apparently not all in the crowds were believers because Luke remarks that Jesus lifted up his eyes to his disciples. The implication is that at least some were coming simply to benefit from his divine power, to have their earthly needs satisfied and be sent on their way healed and happy. Jesus recognized the danger: that his disciples might get the wrong idea about Christ’s mission and their own Christian lives from these miracles. So he presses pause on the healings and miracles to reveal the reality about the Christian life.

The Bible is perfectly clear that God didn’t send his only Son into the world to make you or me or anyone else rich, well-fed, happy, or popular. He didn’t come to establish a utopia – a paradise – on earth. Oh, it’s not that he couldn’t have; it’s not that he tried and failed. The One who created everything with just his Word, who cast out demons, healed the sick and raised the dead – certainly could have spoken and this earth would have become an instant paradise once again. Jesus could have established another Eden, planted the tree of life in it and put us there – and it wouldn’t have required him to die on a cross. We could have lived free of disease, crime, poverty, hunger and sadness and eaten from that tree of life and lived forever. “That sounds good – why didn’t he do that?” For the very same reason that God kicked Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden in the first place.

The only way to rightly understand life now is from the perspective of what happened in the beginning. God had given Adam one simple command: you may freely eat from every tree in the garden, but you shall not eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, for on the day that you eat from it, you will certainly die (Genesis 2:16-17). But Adam ate from that tree and the death he earned by his disobedience wasn’t just the inevitable separation of his body from his soul – it was separation from God. And his sin brought additional consequences: the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil. Now, so that he does not reach out his hand and also take from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever – the Lord God sent him out from the Garden of Eden to work the soil from which he had been taken (Genesis 3:22-23). God kicked Adam and Eve out of the perfect bliss of Eden so that they wouldn’t have to endure the curse of sin, of separation from him forever. The thorns and thistles of daily life, the pain of childbirth, the bitter enmity we see and experience between believers and unbelievers and the endless war between the sexes were to be a reminder to them that the world wasn’t the problem; they were. In other words, God kicked them out of paradise to lead them back to himself in repentance (Romans 2:4); he did it out of love.

Why doesn’t Jesus just give us everything we think could use for happiness in this life? Why doesn’t he just snap his fingers and turn this world into paradise once again? Because even if Jesus recreated the paradise on earth we desire – we would still be under God’s curse – not only because we inherited original sin from Adam but because we have not continue[d] to do everything written in the Law (Galatians 3:10). He could cause us to live here forever. But it would be an awful existence; because we wouldn’t be forgiven, we wouldn’t be justified, we wouldn’t be saved, we wouldn’t be right with God. Worse than the living dead, we would be the living damned. It would literally be hell on earth. It would be the very life God wanted to spare us from by driving Adam and Eve out of the Garden. That is why Jesus says that in this life poverty is better than wealth, hunger than satisfaction, weeping than laughter, and persecution than popularity: because that’s the reality of our standing before God. The broken world around us, the consequences of sin that touch our lives are concrete reminders that the real problem is not out there; it’s in here. Weeping, repenting, begging, hungering for God’s grace and mercy are the only proper response – because only then will we appreciate the real reason Jesus came to earth.

Jesus didn’t come to get rid of poverty and hunger and sadness – no lofty State of the Union addresses or Build Back Better bills for him – he came to get rid of sin, death, and God’s curse. Jesus came to gather up the pieces of the commandments we have broken and put together a perfect life of obedience. He came to take our sin and guilt upon himself to the extent that when God looked at earth on Good Friday, the only sinner he saw was his only-begotten Son (2 Corinthians 5:21). When he was nailed to a cross and God unleashed all of his wrath over sin, all of his curses meant for sinners on Jesus – then, and only then – was God’s justice satisfied, his wrath quenched, his curse removed. By his perfect life and hellish death, Jesus won true life for you; life in an eternal kingdom, a kingdom filled with riches beyond your wildest dreams, an endless, all you can eat feast hosted by Jesus himself, a place of unbroken joy where God himself is reunited with us as his beloved children.

But here’s the danger: in the meantime, the Devil either wants to fill you so full of wealth, food, happiness, and popularity now that you don’t see or feel the real misery of your sin or he wants you to see Jesus as nothing more than a cosmic genie who came to give you those things. The devil wants you to believe that you are rich in good works; to deny your spiritual poverty; to be satisfied in your own goodness; to not hunger for God’s righteousness; to laugh at your sin, not weep over it; to value what other people say about you more than what God says. But the awful reality is that if we believe that because we are rich, well-fed, happy and popular everything is right between us and God – then the devil has won and we are lost.

Because it’s all an illusion. Popularity and laughter and happiness and satisfaction are mirages that are gone as soon as you have them. We may eat at the best brunch buffet in Madison this morning – but we’ll have to eat again later today. Money can’t buy everything – especially the most important things, the things that last beyond death. Happiness happens in a moment and then it’s gone. Our current “cancel culture” has proven time and again that popularity and societal approval can be yours one second and lost the next. Most importantly – and this is Jesus’ main point here: our circumstances of life now are not an accurate measure of our standing with God. So what is? The cross. We deserved to hang there – because we are all poor, miserable sinners; but Jesus hung there in our place. That’s the ultimate truth, the one thing the devil doesn’t want you to see, believe or confess; the thing he wants to hide and obscure behind wealth and satisfaction and laughter and popularity.

And that’s why Jesus preaches this shocking sermon, awakening us to the truth and turning the world upside down for us. He lets us in on the secret that what made Eden paradise was not the climate, the food, the pleasure, or the fact that men and women got along. What made Eden paradise was the fact that Adam and Eve were perfect and had a perfect relationship with God. That’s what Jesus came to restore. And he has. He kept all of God’s commandments perfectly – and gives you the credit. He suffered the death your sins deserved – and your record is wiped clean. In Jesus, when God looks at you, he’s as pleased with you now as he was when he first created Adam and Eve and called them very good. (Genesis 1:31) Now, if you were all-powerful, if you could give your children anything, would you give them riches, food, happiness, and popularity in this broken world that is infested with sin and sickness and inevitably ends in death? Of course not (Matthew 7:9-11). If you could give someone you love anything at all – it would be a one-way ticket out of this world to a place where there is no sin, death, or the devil. And that’s exactly what God has given us in Jesus – a one-way ticket out of this life to true life with God. That is, finally, why he came.

In Luther’s day, when plagues and famine and disease and death were realities people just had to live and deal with – not hide in their basements from – some would say “In the midst of life we are surrounded by death.” That’s what the devil would like you to think. THIS is THE life. This is as good as it gets. Eat and drink and be as merry as you can now because tomorrow you die (1 Corinthians 15:32). Luther flipped that proverb on its head. “In the midst of death we are surrounded by life.” [1] This place, this existence – where sin, death and the devil stalk us, hurt us, kill us and our loved ones – this is not true life. True life is peace and harmony with God. That’s what Jesus came to bring us. And in his grace he gives us signs of the true life that is ours even as we live in the midst of this world of death. He gave you new life, rebirth, in the life-giving water of Baptism. He restores your life day after day with his absolution. He gives you the body and blood of his Son which preserves you to life everlasting. By his resurrection he has kicked open the door of death which kept us from experiencing true life with God. All of which is evidence that following Jesus, this Christian life of ours, is not what we think; it’s even better. Amen.

[1] LW 13:83

Luke 5:1-11 - A Strange Fishing Story - February 6, 2022

There’s something about the sport of fishing that lends itself to storytelling. Countless novels and films have been written and produced about fishing and fishermen. Many lake homes and cabins have a sign indicating that “Fishing Stories are Told Here.” Maybe it’s the long hours of waiting and watching, maybe it’s because many days fishermen are left empty handed, or maybe it’s men trying to justify spending hours on a lake instead of completing their honey-do list that leads to the concocting (or fabricating) of stories. I’d love to be able to tell you a spell-binding fishing story from my life, but my track record is probably better described as “worm-drowning” than it is fishing. So it’s a good thing that you’re not here to listen to my fishing story but to Jesus’ – and, as we will see, it’s a rather strange fishing story.

There are two literary details we should cover before we get to the story; details that help us frame the story in its proper context. Where the EHV translates one time, the literal translation is and it happened – the very same phrase used twice in Luke 2, when it happened that the time came for Mary to give birth to the Savior. With this phrase Luke is trying to catch our attention, to tell us that something big is about to happen. The second is that Luke makes it clear that this story isn’t about Jesus fishing for people in general. This is about him fishing for one particular person. Five times Simon (Peter’s Hebrew name) is used. James and John are called Simon’s partners and when Jesus issued the formal call into the apostolic ministry, he addressed Simon directly. This story is about Jesus fishing for Peter, the man who would become the leader and spokesman for the apostles – in good ways and in bad.

Here's the strange part: this wasn’t the first time Jesus had gone fishing for Peter. In fact, this story probably takes place about a year after Jesus had first called Peter (John 1:35-42). That time, on the banks of the Jordan River, Peter had left John the Baptist to follow Jesus because his brother Andrew had told him that Jesus was the Christ and John had pointed to Jesus as the Lamb of God (John 1:36). In the following weeks and months Peter had witnessed Jesus turn water into wine (John 2:1-11), cleanse the temple (John 2:13-25), and reveal himself as the Savior of the world, to the promiscuous Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:1-42). And yet, a year later, when Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret (aka, the Sea of Galilee) – where Peter lived and worked – preaching and teaching the word of God, where was Peter? He was among the fishermen who were washing their nets. Jesus is using the net of the Gospel to draw schools of lost souls into the safety of the kingdom of God – and Peter isn’t interested. The Savior was proclaiming the saving Gospel, but Peter didn’t have time to listen or learn. He had left Jesus and gone back to his day job.

So Jesus goes fishing for this fisherman. Like a parent may try to redirect a misbehaving child, saying, “Can you help me with something?” Jesus asked [Peter] to put out a little from the shore. He sat down and began teaching the crowds from the boat. We aren’t given the text of Jesus’ sermon, but we know that he wasn’t teaching them “how to earn God’s favor,” or “how to have a better marriage or better behaved children,” or “how to have your best life now.” No, Jesus was undoubtedly teaching what he always taught: that these people were sinners who were doomed for hell and that there wasn’t anything they could do about it; that they were sadly mistaken if they thought that obedience to the Law of Moses could save them; that only he could and would keep the Law perfectly and offer the perfect sacrifice for sin; that only by trusting in him they could find life after death (John 11:25).

These lost souls eagerly fed on Jesus’ life-giving teaching – but Peter wasn’t biting. So when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water, and let down your nets for a catch.” And the story gets stranger. Peter is a professional fisherman. There were at least three good reasons that he was on the shore washing his nets that morning, not out fishing. First, he knows that you don’t use nets to catch fish in deep water – the deeper the water the more likely they will break as you pull them in (as the story itself proves). Second, he knows that the best time to fish isn’t during the day – when the bright sunlight reveals the net to the fish – but at night, when they can’t see it and swim right into it. Third, Peter had worked hard all through the night and caught nothing – and now that he’s just finished washing his nets, all he wants to do is go home and rest up for another night of fishing.

Two things tell you that Peter is upset; he’s not happy about this situation; he doesn’t want to be caught in the net of the Gospel. First, he calls Jesus Master – a term used in secular language for a slave master. “Ok, Jesus, you’re the boss. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.” Second, Peter feels like the only reason Jesus has given this command is to berate him, to judge him, to condemn him – in other words, to bring the full force of the Law down on him for abandoning his Savior. Where do we see this? Jesus had commanded them to let down your nets for a catch (plural) and Peter responded (like a bratty child) I (singular) will let down the nets. Peter probably felt like a student who has been called into the principal’s office or a like a church member today when they receive a call or email from the pastor or elder requesting a meeting to talk about their neglect of worship and the means of grace. Ashamed. Guilty. Afraid. He’s adrift in the deep water of his own unworthiness and sinfulness.

Out in the deep water is where you find fish that aren’t hungry. Experienced fishermen know that you need to use different tactics, perhaps a special kind of bait to catch fish that don’t want to eat. And so that’s just what Jesus did with Peter. Peter had seen Jesus heal many diseases. He’d seen Jesus free people from demons (Luke 4:40-41). He’d seen Jesus cure his own mother-in-law’s fever (Luke 4:39). But he had still quit following Jesus. Jesus had been trying to lure him in with his words and works for a year. He had hooked him time and again, but he couldn’t yet land him in the boat. Muskie fishermen, especially, know the feeling. You fight a monster for 45 minutes or an hour, you get him right next to the boat – and then at the last moment, he shakes the hook and gets away. But what the bait of miracles, healings and exorcisms couldn’t do to land Peter – a boatload of fish (actually two boatloads) caught by a simple word from Jesus – did.

It may seem like the great catch of fish would be a good place to end this fishing story – but that’s not the real miracle in this story, and, as we read on, it just gets stranger. When Simon Peter saw [the great catch of fish] he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, because I am a sinful man, Lord.” Peter acknowledges Jesus as his Lord and God, but he commands – commands – Jesus to go away from him because he’s a sinful man. Isn’t that a strange reaction? Peter simply couldn’t believe what was happening. He was expecting a scolding and received forgiveness; perhaps expecting Jesus to toss him out of the boat in the middle of the lake in judgment and was given a boatload of fish instead. This is the irrationality of unbelief. Peter believed that Jesus had to get away from him because he was such a stinking, miserable sinner. He believed he wasn’t worth catching. He believed that Jesus couldn’t want anything to do with him – after all, he’d already abandoned him once.

Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever feel like the best place for Jesus in your life is far, far away? Do you ever imagine that your relationship with Jesus is that of a slave to his master – that coming to worship is more like reporting for duty, like punching a time-clock – than a break, a chance to rest, a vacation from the mundane work of washing your nets (or whatever your occupation happens to be)? Do you ever feel like Jesus just wants to expose all the things you’ve done wrong, rub your face in them, and then scream and yell at you to do and be better? Do you ever think the Gospel is only for better Christians, not for you? Or, do you know someone who feels that way about Christianity? Who imagines that Christianity is all about shame and guilt and laws and pulpit pounding pastors screaming at you to “be better and try harder”? It’s no surprise that Peter was afraid of Jesus – or that many people today still are. We have every right to be. He is God in human flesh. He is the Lord; he is holy. And we are not (Romans 2:9-18). Like Isaiah (Isaiah 6:1-8) and like Peter the only thing we deserve when we come here into the boat of the church, into the presence of Jesus, is to be berated, shamed, guilted and eventually condemned to hell. And yet, at the same time, that type of fear, that type of hopelessness has no place in a Christian’s heart. It’s despair – and despair is unbelief. It is a sin. A sin that shouldn’t result in commanding Jesus to get away from us but in repentance.

Repent of thinking that Jesus came to be a new Moses (John 1:17); a new Master with a sharper law and stricter demands. Repent of thinking that Jesus just wants to deprive you of rest on your day off and to double-down in your efforts to earn his love and grace. Repent of thinking that prayer, meditation on the Word, reception of the sacrament, Sunday school and Bible class are just additional tasks that Jesus gives so that you can earn your salvation. Repent of thinking that Jesus is angry with you. Because while Peter was right, that Jesus is the holy Lord of the heavens and earth – the reason he came to earth as a man to go fishing for lost sinners; he didn’t come into the world to condemn the world but to save it (John 1:17).

Have no fear, Jesus tells Peter. These are words of forgiveness, absolution and restoration. That’s the strangest part of this story of all, isn’t it? That while Peter had abandoned Jesus and only reluctantly obeyed Jesus’ command to cast his nets in deep water – that Jesus gave him far more than he ever would have asked or could have expected? Do you know what that strange behavior is called? It’s called grace. And it’s something that we don’t only read about in this strange fishing story – it’s something that we experience each and every day of our lives. We may try to run away from Jesus, but the simple fact that we are here is evidence that we haven’t been able to outrun the blessings of his grace. Just think of the boatload of blessings he has given you as proof of his love. Life and breath, food and drink, spouse and children, house and home. And those aren’t even the best ones. He gives you eyes to read his Word, ears to hear his absolution, skin to feel the cleansing water of Baptism, lips to receive the body and blood that he gave up and shed for your forgiveness. Even though each of us have repeatedly tried to flop out of Jesus’ boat, improperly viewing Jesus as a taskmaster who just wants more and more from us; Jesus hasn’t for one day stopped proving his love to us and casting out the net of his Word to catch us for eternal life.

It's a really strange fishing story, isn’t it? It’s not strange that Peter, that you, that I abandon Jesus, run away from him, tell him to get away from us – because we are miserable, rotten sinners who were born dead in sin, blind to grace and enemies of God, full of ourselves and not hungry for the Gospel. No, the strange part is that Jesus is so persistent in fishing for fish like us, fish that aren’t hungry; that don’t want to be caught – so that we may be brought into the safety of his church, into service in his kingdom, and finally, into the glory of heaven. It might be strange, but it’s the best fishing story that has ever been told – because it's not just Peter’s story, it’s yours and mine as well. Amen.  

Luke 4:14-30 - One Message that Always Gets Two Reactions - January 23, 2022

Here’s a riddle for you: what do the Word of God and Newton’s Third Law of Motion have in common? They both always generate two equal and opposite reactions. In other words, there is no middle ground, no neutral position in relationship to the Gospel. And that’s not just my opinion. Jesus himself says that whoever is not with me is against me (Matthew 12:30). The Gospel never lays there dead, like a cadaver on an exam table, it is living and active, sharper than any double-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12). You either hear the Word and rejoice in God’s mercy to sinners or you try to silence it; try to push it out of your life.

Now, you might be thinking: I’ve heard many sermons and opened up my Bible and read it many times – and quite often, I’ve had no real – much less passionate – reaction; I wasn’t really moved to either joy or anger. Now that’s a problem; a big problem. There are few things God hates more than apathy (Revelation 3:15-16). And who gets the blame for this problem? Well, given that the Gospel is necessarily communicated from one person to another, there are three places we could place the blame: on the message, the speaker or the listener. We can scratch the message from that list; God promises that it will accomplish whatever I please and it will succeed in the purpose for which I sent it (Isaiah 55:11). There’s nothing wrong with the Word. Apathy is a symptom of one of the biggest problems in the Church today: we’ve grown weary of the Word. Complacent. Bored even. As hearers, our ears have been dulled by the noise of the world. Movies and music and media are engineered to make us sit down, turn our brains off and be passively entertained and amused. But hearing the Word of God demands active listening. It’s not supposed to be background noise, it’s supposed to be like listening to the doctor tell you if the test results mean that you will live or die. Then there is “itching ear syndrome” (2 Timothy 4:3). We want the church to have amazing programs and powerful, moving music and messages that are relevant, that give meaning to our lives, that solve all our problems and answer all our questions – and the Word of God doesn’t scratch that itch. Finally, incessant breaking news and weather alerts and viral videos have changed our brains; shortened our attention spans, weakened our ability to focus and concentrate and meditate. And so, if something can’t be expressed in a 30 second video or 144 characters, we turn it off and tune it out. The sad result is that many Christians have a shamefully shallow faith based on theological sound-bites and Facebook memes than a firm and clear understanding of the deep mysteries of God’s grace.

But hearers don’t bear all the blame. You also have preachers who have themselves lost faith in the power of the Word; who instead trust their own wit and wisdom, their own personality and ingenuity to do what only the Word can do. They use the Word as a means to an end rather than the means of grace; as an instrument – or perhaps weapon – to manipulate and mobilize and organize and patronize. Want to start a community service program? There’s a Bible verse for that. Want to raise money? Beat people over the head with your big leather Bible. Want to trumpet your righteous cause and vilify the opposition? Scripture is cited on both sides of almost every social and political issue. And this misuse of the Word can even infect the hearts of we who claim to stand on the Reformation motto of Scripture alone. Preachers preach and hearers hear the Word expecting it to change the world and the people out there rather than do what God promises it will do: change us. It’s stupid really. It’s stupid to sit here for an hour and expect it to change the world out there – instead of changing us. It’s as stupid as taking a Tylenol and expecting someone else’s headache to go away.

Martin Luther warned his generation that the Word of God is like a passing downpour. It falls for a while in one place and the soil soaks it up. But then the soil becomes saturated and the water runs off and the clouds move on. [1] Luther predicted the day when the Gospel shower would move on from Europe to other nations and continents – which has in large part happened. And some might say that the Gospel downpour is leaving our country in our own generation. But for now, God has blessed us with the shower of his blessings in the Word – and let us never take that for granted or grow bored with it. Because the Word remains the living and active wisdom and power of God (Romans 1:16-17). And whenever it goes out from human lips into human ears and minds and hearts, it does things. It kills and makes alive. It knocks us off our thrones and picks us up off of our knees. It fills the starving and sends the rich away empty (Luke 2:53). There is no neutrality when it comes to the Word of God. There is either joy or anger; faith or unbelief.

That was true in already in the time of Ezra and Nehemiah (c. 445 BC). In our first lesson we heard that all the people gathered together at the public square that is in front of the Water Gate (Nehemiah 8:1), demanding to hear the Word of God. They listened as Ezra read from the books of Moses and the Levites interpreted it [so that] the people understood what was read (Nehemiah 8:8). Men, women, and children stood – stood! – and listened for six straight hours, from early morning till noon, to hear words that hadn’t been heard in Jerusalem in over 70 years. No comfortably padded chairs. No heating or air conditioning. No roof over their heads. They wept when they heard the Word. It cut them right to the heart. They repented. They believed. They recognized how utterly sinful they were and how incredibly gracious God was. The Word was working just as God had promised. It was a holy day, made holy by the Word.

It was also a holy day in Nazareth, when Jesus, the carpenter’s son turned miracle-working rabbi, returned to his hometown synagogue on the Sabbath. The place was packed. They all wanted to hear from the hometown boy. The attendant handed the scroll of the prophet Isaiah to Jesus and he found Isaiah 61. He read it out loud: The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. And then he stopped and sat down. The place went silent. You could have heard a pin drop. What was he going to say? People had wondered for centuries who Isaiah was talking about. Was he talking about himself? (Acts 8:34) Was it John? Was it someone else? Who was this Anointed One? Jesus tells them: Today, this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing. “This prophecy is about me.” And, at first, they all spoke well of him and were impressed by the words of grace that came from his mouth.

But then the devil elbowed his way into their minds and elevated their reason over the Word. They kept saying, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” They remembered that Jesus had played in their streets with their kids, traveled with them to Jerusalem for the required festivals – that for 30 years Jesus walked and talked and lived like anyone else. “Wait a minute…who does this guy think he is? He leaves home, runs around with that weird, renegade cousin named John, and now he comes back and thinks he’s the Messiah? Well, we’ll see about that. Prove it, Jesus! You’ve done miracles for other people, do one for us. Prove yourself here and we’ll believe you, but until you prove it we are going to reject your message.”

Jesus knew what they were thinking. Amen I tell you: No prophet is accepted in his hometown. He reminded them that there were lots of widows in Israel but God sent Elijah to the widow at Zarephath (Elijah 17:7-24) and there were lots of lepers in Israel but Elisha healed Naaman the Syrian (2 Kings 5) – both of whom were Gentiles. He was sending them both a fact and a warning: if you reject the Word, don’t expect miracles. Faith doesn’t come from seeing miracles but from hearing the Word (Romans 10:17). If you continue in your unbelief, God will take his Word away from you and give it to people who joyfully receive it. And with that, Jesus’ hometown congregation had heard enough. They were filled to the brim – not with faith, but with rage. “Let’s get rid of this guy! We don’t need to sit here and listen to him call us unbelievers and that we need him to save us from ourselves.” They drove him out of town and tried to throw him off a cliff. If you actually listen to what the Word says to you and about you, you can’t remain neutral. You either hear it with joy or you try to push Jesus out of your life. There is no middle ground.

Of course, Jesus slipped away because it wasn’t the time or place for him to die, but this was a bitter taste of the ultimate rejection to come. He was Anointed by God to save God’s people, but God’s people rejected him. Three years later they would finally succeed in pushing Jesus out of their lives for good – they would arrest and convict and beat and crucify him as a criminal. But only because he willingly allowed them to. Because only by dying could he pay for the world’s sin, death and unbelief (Hebrews 9:22). He had told them God had sent him to save them from their sins – and they wanted to kill him for it. Do you see how irrational unbelief is?

But today isn’t about the people of Nehemiah’s time or Jesus’ childhood neighbors. Today is about you…and me. Are we more like those people in Jerusalem or the people in Nazareth? We are both! We have split personalities when it comes to the Word of God; we are both glad hearers and angry despisers. Our old Adam rises up in rebellion against the Word, rejects its demand to rule our hearts and minds, resents the Law that exposes our sin and the Gospel that says God sent a Savior because we couldn’t save ourselves. It’s our old Adam that just wants to stay in bed on a frigid Sunday morning, that searches for excuses to avoid hearing the Word, that counts the seconds until the “Amen.” The old Adam hates church. He can’t wait to get as far away from the Word as possible because he knows that the Word means his death. He must be coerced, compelled, threatened, forced to hear it. He’s why you and I do not always gladly hear the Word of God and obey it (Romans 7:18).

But the New Man in you is different. The New Man is an eager listener. The New Man would gladly stand in a crowd outside the Water Gate in Jerusalem and listen to the Word of God for six hours – to say nothing of driving through a little snow and cold to sit in a padded chair in a climate-controlled sanctuary for one hour. That’s the real you. The you who was reborn in Baptism. The you that died and rose with Christ. The you who rejoices at every opportunity to hear and study and read God’s Word, who gets a shiver down your spine whenever you hear that God loved you so much that he sent his Son to die for your sins, so that he might call you his child and give you the inheritance of eternal life.

You know what that means, right? It means war. It means that each of our lives is a never-ending war between the old Adam and the new man. It is a weekly struggle to make the trek to church. A minute by minute struggle to pay attention. A daily battle to open up the Bible at home and read it and teach it to our children. An ongoing struggle against the devil’s temptations to become apathetic toward the amazing good news of God’s grace for sinners. It means that we need to repent for allowing the Old Adam to gain the upper hand, for treating God’s grace as old news or irrelevant news or fake news, for refusing to receive the gifts Jesus wants to give us, for treating the Word as something optional or secondary in our lives, even for wanting to shut Jesus up and get rid of him. We need to drag the old Adam here kicking and screaming and repent because that is how God puts him to death.

And then we rejoice. We rejoice not because we have overcome the old Adam. Let’s be honest, none of us have. No, we rejoice because Jesus has overcome where we have failed. We were the captive, blind and oppressed ones Isaiah was talking about – but Jesus is the Anointed one who came to live and die and rise again to set us free. Your sins – even your sins of apathy – are forgiven. You stand justified before God. You are his child through baptism. You have a place in his heavenly mansion. That’s the Gospel. It might make you mad or glad, sad or joyful, you may want to hear more or you might just want me to shut up – because the Word always gets both equal and opposite reactions. But there’s no denying this fact: that this day at Risen Savior is a holy day because this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing. Amen.

[1] LW 45:352

Titus 3:4-7 - Epiphany Reveals God's Kindness and Love - January 16, 2022

In every nation and culture that has ever existed, kindness and love have been seen as positive virtues, as qualities to be nurtured and encouraged and praised. But there’s a problem with kindness and love; two of them actually. First, these virtues are invisible; you can’t tell that someone is kind and loving just by looking at them. This is true of humans, obviously; but it’s also true of God. We can’t know what’s in God’s heart unless and until he reveals it to us. Second, as a result of sin, our world has perverted the virtues of love and kindness to justify truly evil behaviors. Euthanasia, abortion, same-sex marriage and, more recently, encouraging even children to identify as the opposite gender are all evils that are justified by perverted ideas of kindness and love. We’re not blameless either. How many times have we used kindness or love to justify not saying something to the friend or family member who is caught up in sin or unbelief? If we are honest with ourselves, don’t selfishness and a desire for recognition and glory taint even our kindest and most loving words and actions? Since sin has so ruined our concept of kindness and love, we need a refresher course from the One who is love and kindness (1 John 4:8). As we continue the season of Epiphany, Paul says that God has revealed his kindness and love to us and for us in three very real ways.

Epiphany comes from the Greek word epiphaino which means “to reveal or to appear.” It’s the word Paul uses in verse 4: when the kindness and love of God our Savior toward mankind appeared. This is profound: when Jesus appeared, both in Bethlehem as a baby, and in the Jordan River as the Savior of sinners, he revealed something about God that we could never have discovered by ourselves (Matthew 11:27): namely, that he is kind and loving. It was kindness because Jesus didn’t come for his own benefit, but for ours; not to gain anything for himself but to give up everything in order to gain salvation for us. And Jesus’ appearance reveals God’s love – a very specific kind of love. The word Paul uses here is philanthropia (our word philanthropy) – in that out of all the various parts and pieces of creation, God sent his Son not to save dogs or dolphins, but humans.

Now, it’s easy for us as Christians to take God’s love and kindness for granted – since we are reminded of them every time we open our Bibles, every time we hear the absolution, every time remember our Baptisms or receive Holy Communion. But God’s love and kindness stand in stark contrast Paul’s description of mankind in the verse preceding our text: at one time we ourselves were also foolish, disobedient, deceived, enslaved by many kinds of evil desires and pleasures, living in malice and jealousy, being hated and hating one another. He’s not just describing what the world was like – that is, what unbelievers and pagans and idolaters were like – but that’s what we – Christians, believers – were like. Since it’s so tempting for us to exaggerate how kind and loving we are – God reveals the truth to us. We were not – and often are not – kind and loving. In fact, apart from him we were the complete opposite: foolish, disobedient and filled with hate. That’s what makes Christmas and Epiphany so astounding – not that they came from God, for he is love (1 John 4:8) – but that God loved us; poor, miserable, rotten creatures. Creatures who don’t deserve even an ounce of kindness or love.

That’s what Paul is emphasizing in his next statement: he saved us – not by righteous works that we did ourselves, but because of his mercy. It’s not just that God had to overlook those few times when we didn’t do the right thing, it’s not that we were good most of the time and only failed here or there – no, God didn’t save us because of any of the righteous things we had done…because there weren’t any. Isaiah says that all of our righteous acts look like filthy rags to God (Isaiah 64:6). Hebrews says that apart from faith, we can’t do anything good in God’s eyes (Hebrews 11:6). Therefore, the primary cause for God to send his Son into this world was not in us, but in him; not in our righteous works, but in his mercy. Mercy is pity or compassion in action for those in a hopeless condition. Our condition was hopeless: we were doomed to a short and miserable life here on earth and an eternity in hell. That’s why God stepped in and in his mercy sent his Son into this world. That’s why Christmas is not just a nice, heart-warming story and Jesus’ baptism is not just a interesting detail from his life. From Bethlehem to the Jordan to Calvary, Jesus’ time on this earth was not a leisurely vacation but the most dramatic rescue mission in human history.

Perhaps this gives us a better appreciation for the structure of the Christian church year. In Advent, we prepared to receive God’s Christmas gift. On Christmas we received God’s Christmas gift once again. But imagine if you received a gift and weren’t allowed to open it. That’s what the Epiphany season is about: unwrapping, unpacking, and understanding God’s Christmas gift to us. As we move from Epiphany into Lent, we will view firsthand Jesus’ path of suffering up to and on the cross – which was the price it cost to pay our debt of sin and earn our forgiveness. And then we leave Calvary to stand outside the empty tomb, where we see proof positive that the appearance of Jesus demonstrates God’s kindness and love which offers salvation to lost sinners (Romans 4:25).

Our faith and our certainty of salvation always start there – with the objective facts of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection – but it doesn’t end there. Paul goes on to explain how those facts apply to us: he saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior. What is Paul describing here? Washing…rebirth…poured out. He’s talking about baptism. In no uncertain terms, Paul is stating that sinners are saved from hell when they are baptized with water and the Word. Rebirth and renewal are the two results of this washing. The first time you were born, what did you inherit from your parents besides your eye color and lame sense of humor? Sin and death. From the moment you took your first breath you were destined to fight against God’s will for you each and every day until your death. But when you were baptized, you were reborn – not in the image of your parents, but in the image of Jesus (Romans 6:3-5). Baptism is where everything Jesus did – his perfect life and his innocent death – become your personal possession. And along with rebirth, God worked renewal by the Holy Spirit in your Baptism. What is renewal? Well, do you know how every once in a while, one of your devices becomes corrupted and you need to restore the default factory settings. That’s the idea of renewal: the Holy Spirit restores the default settings he had originally given to Adam and Eve, so that we once again want what God wants (Romans 6:4). Through the renewal that God gave us in Baptism, we are again able to be kind and loving; to live not just to serve ourselves, but to serve God and others.

Now, not everyone believes what the Bible says about baptism. Some people think that baptism is something we do for God. They think of baptism as an act of obedience or an outward symbol of an inward commitment they have made. But listen again to Paul’s description of baptism – who is the doer, the active one in baptism? He saved us through the washing of rebirth and the renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior. Father, Son and Holy Spirit are the active ones in baptism. He reaches into the dead, godless, lifeless hearts of all ages and creates faith in them and enables them to live for him. If it were up to us, even just a little; we would ruin it. But Epiphany reveals God’s unearned, undeserved kindness and love through the washing of Holy Baptism.

Finally, what is the end goal of all of this – why did God put so much effort into sending his Son into the world and giving us new birth and renewal in baptism? Paul concludes: so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs in keeping with the hope of eternal life. Contrary to what many believe and teach today, Jesus didn’t come to this earth so that we could all be rich and happy. He didn’t come to earth merely to give us advice on how we might have healthier marriages and families. He didn’t come to fulfill all of our dreams or so that we would have our best lives now. Everything that Jesus did he did for one reason: so that when we die, we wouldn’t be condemned to hell but instead inherit heaven. Usually, an heir receives an inheritance when someone else dies – but for us, as baptized believers – the inheritance of heaven is what we receive when we die.

This has a profound impact on our worldview, our entire outlook on life. Most people in our world today view life as something to be cherished and enjoyed to its fullest because, well, this is all there is (this pandemic has revealed this in a stark way: it has people behaving in all sorts of irrational and utterly panicked ways because they have no hope of eternal life). Many in our world live by the mantra You Only Live Once. Even Christians can get sucked into making a long and satisfying retirement in which they can check off all the things on their personal bucket lists as the ultimate goal of life. But as Christians, we know (or at least we should know) that this life is nothing more and nothing less than preparation for eternal life (Psalm 90:12). For Christians, the grave doesn’t mark the end of the story, but the beginning – for only when we have finally been freed from our slavery to sin, death and the devil will we truly begin to live life as God intended it to be.

Our hope as we walk out those doors to continue the daily war against Satan and every evil is that we are already victorious; that eternal life is ours. And this hope is not tenuous or uncertain – it’s not like the hope we have that the weather will warm up or that a particular football team will win this afternoon. No. Our hope of heaven is rock solid and certain. It is certainty that is grounded on the appearance of Jesus in this world to live, suffer and die as our perfect substitute. It is certainty that becomes ours when God applies his Son’s work to us personally in the sacrament of Holy Baptism. It is certainty that is sustained and strengthened by the countless promises our Father has given us in his Word, my favorite of which is this one from Isaiah: even if the mountains are removed, and the hills are overthrown, my mercy will not be removed from you, and my covenant of peace will not be overthrown, says the LORD (Isaiah 54:10). Amen.

1 Kings 10:1-9 - You Don't Know the Half of It - January 9, 2022

We’ve all heard some variation of the phrase, “You don’t know the half of it.” It’s usually used to describe something really good or really bad – we’ll use it to describe how terrible the weather was, how amazing our vacation was, or how Covid messed up all our plans – people use that phrase to emphasize that you really had to be there (or be in their shoes) to understand what it was really like. The season of Epiphany has a dual focus of revealing Jesus as true God and Savior of the world and Jesus revealing the one, true God to the world. Paul offers as good a definition of Epiphany as anyone what no eye has seen and no ear has heard and no human mind has conceived – that is what God has prepared for those who love him (1 Corinthians 2:9). Epiphany reminds us that no matter how many times we’ve heard the Gospel of Christ crucified for sinners, we still don’t even know the half of it.

There is a lot of mystery surrounding this Queen of Sheba who is introduced to us in this account from 1 Kings. Some suggest that she was the famous female Pharoah of Egypt called Hatshepsut. Others argue that Sheba was a region south of Egypt, near present-day Ethiopia. Still others believe that she came from the southern tip of the Arabian Peninsula, from present-day Yemen. What all Bible believing people must agree on, however, is that this mysterious woman traveled a considerable distance just to see the famous King Solomon. If she was, as most scholars today conclude, from the southern tip of the Arabian Peninsula – in modern day Yemen – then she traveled no less than 1200 miles to see Solomon.  This was a bucket-list trip for this woman. A trip which would have taken her away from her throne for months, if not more than a year.

But our text makes it clear that it was worth the time and effort to make the trip. Solomon answered all her questions. There was nothing hidden from the king that he could not explain to her. The Queen of Sheba saw all the wisdom of Solomon, the house which he built, and the food on his table. When she saw the council meeting of his officials, the careful attention of his ministers, as well as their attire, his cupbearers, and the whole burnt offerings which he offered at the House of the Lord, it took her breath away. She said to the king, “The report I heard in my own country about your accomplishments and your wisdom is true. I did not believe the report until I came and saw it with my own eyes. The truth is, not even half of it was told to me! Your wisdom and wealth surpass the report which I heard.

A few verses later we are told that she and her servants returned to her country (1 Kings 10:13). This is the last time we hear about the mysterious Queen of Sheba…that is, until roughly 1000 years later when we hear her name uttered by Jesus himself in his condemnation of the unbelieving Pharisees: the Queen of the South will be raised up in the judgment with this generation and will condemn it, because she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon. But one even greater than Solomon is here (Matthew 12:42). Jesus wasn’t just bragging. He wasn’t displaying arrogance or insecurity. He was dealing with the very real fact that the chosen people of Israel – the very people who should have been ready and waiting for his arrival – had rejected him in stubborn, hard-hearted unbelief. They had actually accused him of working for Satan (Matthew 12:24). And then they even had the gall to demand that he give them a sign to prove that he was who he claimed to be (Matthew 12:38). Jesus pointed back to this story about the Queen of Sheba because, while she spared no cost or effort to see and listen to Solomon’s wisdom, these Pharisees and experts in the law refused to listen to and believe Jesus’ wisdom even though he was standing right in front of them. They knew that God had promised to send a Savior who would reveal him to the world, they knew half of the story – but when Jesus appeared, they refused to receive him, the fulfillment of those promises.

You all had to travel to be here this morning – some of you a considerable distance. You had to get yourselves and your children out of your warm beds and showered and dressed and venture out into the frigid January air to drive here to church. And I commend you for your commitment and dedication. I thank God that he has led you to spend a portion of your weekend immersing yourself in God’s Word. At the same time, you didn’t have to travel for days or months to get here. None of us traveled 1200 miles. No, it’s relatively convenient for you to be here on Sunday morning. And it’s a fairly short time commitment (an hour, maybe two), considering that, in comparison, many of you probably spend 40 or 50 or 60 hours working each week and might spend 3 or 4 hours on your couch this afternoon watching football or Netflix.

But what happens when it’s not so convenient to come to listen to Jesus and his wisdom that he brings to us from heaven? What happens when it’s just a little too cold, when there’s just a little too much snow on the roads, when you stayed up a little too late on Saturday night? What happens when you have non-WELS family staying at your house, when your children have sports or other activities on Sunday morning, when you’re out of town on vacation? What happens when your employer offers you double time or overtime for working on Sunday? What happens when coming to listen to Jesus is inconvenient? Everyone who has been confirmed knows that God didn’t say, “Remember the Sabbath Day when it’s convenient for you, on your schedule.” But we’re pretty good at justifying our absence, aren’t we? “I’ve heard it all before.” “I can always catch the service video online later in the week.” “I need at least one day to sleep in and rest up.” “I have to provide for my family and weekend overtime pay really helps with that.” “God wants me to love my family and care for my children, doesn’t he?” The devil loves to tempt us to regard this time of worship and Sunday school and Bible study like an optional, leisure activity rather than an absolute necessity; as a choice we’re free to make rather than a command from God. And when he wins; we sin. Whenever we skip worship because it’s inconvenient, we knowingly disobey God’s 3rd commandment and spit in the face of the Savior he sent to die for us. For the times we have despised or neglected opportunities to hear God’s Word – and we all have – we too deserve to have the Queen of the South rise up to condemn us on Judgment Day.

But our disobedience to the 3rd Commandment isn’t the worst part of neglecting worship whenever it’s inconvenient. The worst part is that we are robbing ourselves of a precious opportunity to hear the other half of the story. You know your half. You know how your story is filled with sin: idols of all shapes and sizes, misuse and abuse of God’s name, disrespect for God’s representatives, hatred and lust, theft and slander and covetousness. We know how depressing and broken our half of the story is and that it leaves us deserving only death. That’s the real reason we need to be here: to hear Jesus’ half of the story. Jesus’ half is filled with perfect obedience and atoning sacrifice and the wisdom of God hidden in Word and Sacrament which gives forgiveness and peace, comfort and the hope of eternal life. Where else on earth can you receive those things?

While we can’t say with any degree of certainty that the Queen of Sheba returned to her home as a believer in the one, true God; we can say that she didn’t regret taking the time to travel to see and hear Solomon and his wisdom. Far from it; she gushed over her experience: blessed are your men, blessed are your servants, who stand before you continually hearing your wisdom! May the Lord your God be blessed, who was pleased to put you on the throne of Israel. Because the Lord loves Israel forever, he made you king to administer justice and righteousness. Is that how you describe your experience here in worship to others? Do you gush over the forgiveness, peace and joy you receive here every week? If not, why not? Let’s just compare what the Queen of Sheba experienced to what we are privileged to experience here on a weekly basis. Sure, the Lord had given Solomon wisdom and riches and fame that surpassed anyone else in human history (1 Kings 3:10-14), but Jesus, the one who meets us here, is the power of God and the wisdom of God in the flesh (1 Corinthians 1:24). Sure, Solomon spoke and wrote wise sayings about topics ranging from government to the economy, from nature to astronomy, from marriage to just finding a way to survive in this fallen world (read Proverbs and Ecclesiastes for a taste of this wisdom), but only Jesus can make us wise for salvation (2 Timothy 3:15). Sure, Solomon’s temple was an architectural wonder and his treasuries were overflowing with gold and silver (2 Chronicles 9:13-28), but Jesus offers us a home in the heavenly Jerusalem, where even the streets are paved with gold (Revelation 21:21) and he has prepared mansions for each of us (John 14:2). And that’s only a taste of the other half of the story that Jesus wants to give you each and every week here in his house. Why let anything inconvenience you from seeing and receiving these blessings and promises?

But that’s not even the most exciting, the most unexpected aspect of Jesus’ half of the story. During the season of Epiphany, we focus on the revealing, the unveiling, the “appearance” of Jesus as the Savior of the world. Here’s the thing: it was incredibly inconvenient for Jesus to become the Savior of the world. He was the eternal Son of God; he had been enjoying the glory of heaven at his Father’s right hand; he had everything and needed nothing. But he had been observing humanity spiraling down the drain of sin towards hell for thousands of years, and in his mercy and love, he planned to do something about it. And when the time was right, he made the trip down to earth (Galatians 4:4-5). He didn’t have an entourage; he didn’t pack anything; he left all the riches of heaven behind. And it was much more than a thousand mile round-trip and a year away from home. It was an expedition from the perfection of Paradise to the pit of depravity that lasted 33 years. And it wasn’t luxurious for him in any way. From his birth to his life to his death, it was all extremely humiliating, painful and inconvenient. He was born in a stable (Luke 2:7); had to flee Herod’s murderous hatred (Matthew 2:13-18); he was slandered as the illegitimate son of a carpenter (John 8:39-41). He was mocked and ridiculed and several attempts were made on his life (Luke 4:29-30). Finally, he was unjustly arrested, brutally tortured and nailed to a cross to die. None of it was convenient for him, but Jesus inconvenienced himself for a reason: to save us from the hell our sins deserved.

And now he wants to tell you about it. Every week he wants to give you a break from your half of the story – the half that’s filled with disappointment and pain and sin and sorrow – and tell you his half. He wants to explain to you exactly what he did and how what he did forgives your sins and gives you peace out there in your half of life and clarify what it all means for your past, present and future. And he doesn’t make it difficult at all. He makes himself available in the Bible – a resource you can access 24/7 anywhere on the planet (even on that smartphone you take everywhere with you). He’s worked to ensure that he is available to you in Word and Sacrament in weekly worship services, Bible studies and Sunday school here in your own hometown. You don’t have to travel thousands of miles or take months off of work to learn from Jesus, he is present right here, eager to tell you about the forgiveness, peace, and salvation that he won for you by his life, death and resurrection. That’s true wealth and wisdom. Seeing and receiving these blessings is well worth our time and effort.

Whenever I hear someone say, “You don’t know the half of it,” I generally assume that they’re exaggerating whatever it is they’re talking about. The Queen of Sheba discovered that there was no exaggeration to Solomon’s wisdom or wealth or fame – she admitted that she hadn’t even heard the half of it. But what Solomon had to offer pales in comparison to what Jesus offers to us here and now. You don’t know the half of what Jesus wants to give you: so in this new year don’t let any inconvenience get in the way of seeing and receiving your Lord’s blessings. Amen.

Luke 2:21 - Because a Baby Boy Bled - January 2, 2022

This weekend the world held the biggest party of the year. My question is: why? I guess because we turned a page of the calendar. Is that really any reason to celebrate? We’re all a year older than we were 365 days ago, with more aches and pains, more gray hair and wrinkles, we’re all one year closer to death. Sure, you always hear people saying that they hope the new year will be better than the last. But do we really have any reason to hold out that hope this year? Between runaway inflation, new variants of Covid, rising crime rates, political polarization, rampant immorality, and animosity between nations – do we have any reason or right to be optimistic about 2022? Well, actually, yes. That is, Christians – those who have received and believed in Christ this Christmas – have every reason and right to wish a fond farewell to 2021 and have confident optimism as we step into 2022. Why? Because a baby boy bled.

The obvious question is: why did Mary and Joseph circumcise Jesus? Bible scholars have twisted themselves into knots trying to explain this, but the answer is very simple: because God said so. 2000 years earlier, God had told Abraham: this is my covenant, which you shall keep, a covenant between me and you and your descendants after you: Every male among you shall be circumcised. You shall be circumcised by cutting the foreskin off your flesh. It will be a sign of the covenant between me and you (Genesis 17:10-12). For Abraham and his descendants, circumcision was a sign of God’s unilateral (one-sided) promise to save them. God repeated this covenantal agreement with Moses and the Israelites years later (Leviticus 12:1-3). In this way circumcision proclaimed both law and gospel. It was law in that it was a painful, bloody reminder that infants – which most people, even many Christians, mistakenly consider to be innocent and blameless – are, in fact, tainted with the terminal infection of original sin (Psalm 51:5). Babies are born with black, rebellious, ungodly, unbelieving hearts. Babies are born to curse and hate and murder and steal and lie and covet. (And if you doubt that, just remember that you were once a baby, too.) And because of original sin, babies are born to die now and forever in hell. Thus, circumcision was a visible, physical reminder of where the total depravity of humanity comes from.

Martin Luther put it this way: Why did God not command to circumcise the finger, hand, foot, ear, eye or some other member of the body? Rather he selects that member which serves no other work and practice in human life and was created by God only for the procreation and increase of mankind. If the evil was to be lopped off, then the hand or the tongue should in fairness have been circumcised before all the other members, since all wickedness among men is performed by the tongue and the hand…Circumcision is to picture what we are always saying: that God does not condemn or save the person because of the works but the works because of the person. Therefore our fault does not lie in the works but in our nature. Our person, nature, and entire being are corrupted in us through Adam’s fall…If, then, he had commanded the hand or the tongue to be circumcised, this would have been an indication that the fault lay in the words and works, that he is favorably disposed toward the nature and the person and hates only the words and the works. But now, since he takes that member which performs no other work than the procreation of human nature and personal being, he makes it clear that the fault lies in the entire essence of human nature, that its birth and the entire origin is corrupt and sinful. [1] Circumcision shows us that our biggest problem – no matter what year the calendar says it is – is not that we sin; our biggest problem is that down to our very core, we are sinful.

But circumcision was also a visible declaration of the Gospel. It was a reminder to Israel that God had promised to send a Savior and that this Savior would come from the seed of Abraham (Genesis 22:18). Every time a baby boy bled on the eighth day of his life in Israel, God was reminding his people of his promise that when the time was just right, he would send his only-begotten Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law (Galatians 4:4).

But we still haven’t really answered the question, have we? Why was Jesus – who, by virtue of his conception by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the virgin Mary (Matthew 1:20) didn’t have a sinful nature – circumcised? Because of us. Jesus was circumcised on the eighth day of his life because we haven’t lived up to God’s expectations even one day of our lives. Jesus bled to obey God in our place, on our behalf. And because Jesus bled we are assured that we don’t have to pay for our sins of 2021 – or 2022 for that matter – with an eternity in hell. Jesus’ circumcision is a reminder that he didn’t just die for us, he lived for us too. When we are talking about redemption and salvation, we often focus on Jesus’ passive obedience to the law: his suffering and death. Here we see an example of Jesus’ active obedience to the law. Jesus actively did something that he didn’t have to do as God’s perfect Son; but something he did to serve as our perfect substitute. Jesus obeyed his Father’s will even as an eight-day old infant. He did it, so that even though each of us were totally depraved, polluted with sin inherited from our parents that no soap will scrub off and no effort can sweat away – we might be saved. Through faith, you receive what Jesus did so that when God looks at you he only sees Jesus – perfect in every way. Through faith you will receive evidence and assurance of this good news through Jesus’ body and blood in His Supper. Today is a day for celebration; because baby Jesus bled, we have forgiveness in his name.

We don’t have to practice circumcision out of obedience to God’s Law anymore because Jesus has fulfilled (i.e. he kept it perfectly and therefore removed the need for it) that element of God’s ceremonial law (1 Corinthians 7:17-19). But God still confirms his promise to save us in a visible and physical way today through the sacrament of Holy Baptism. Law and Gospel are both still preached at the font; baptism continues to remind us that babies are born sinful and in need of a Savior. Baptism is also a continual reminder to us that salvation is unilateral – God saves us without any participation on our part – he puts the sinful nature to death by drowning it in Jesus’ blood and he creates a new life of faith through the power of the His Word. Because baby Jesus bled – both eight days after his birth and three decades later on Calvary’s cross – we can be confident that our children are saved through water and the Word even before they can walk, talk, or confess their faith.

And just like circumcision marked a baby boy for the rest of his life, God intends for baptism to have life-long effects. Picture it this way: when God found us we were like fish flopping around on the beach doomed to die, with no hope of saving ourselves. In Baptism, God picked us up, breathed life into us and placed us into his living water. As Christians, we continue to swim in the waters of Baptism by daily confessing our sins and receiving forgiveness. Our Baptism into Christ is the reason we can be hopeful and joyful as we stand on the brink of another new year – even though we don’t know where or how or if we will make it to 2023. Because Jesus bled not only has our slate of sins from 2021 been wiped clean but wherever we go and whatever we do in 2022 we do it all in Jesus’ name and with God’s blessing. And because we are so quick to forget that, God regularly reminds us right when we enter his house in the invocation and again when we leave his house by placing his name and his blessing on us. Our world likes to make resolutions this time of year to be better, healthier, kinder, more generous. Sadly, statistics say that only about 8% of New Year’s resolutions are kept [2] – which means that for the vast majority of the world 2022 will not really be any better than 2021. But because Jesus resolved to be born for us, to bleed for us, to live for us, to die and rise again for us – we can be sure that wherever life takes us in 2022, we will live it in Jesus’ name.

Finally, Luke reminds us that this news is too good for us to keep to ourselves, he encourages us to resolve to spend 2022 proclaiming Jesus’ name. Now you might ask: how does Luke do that? Where in this single verse is there anything about sharing and spreading the Gospel? Let’s read it again: after eight days passed, when the child was circumcised, he was named Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. Much like today, when parents will post pictures of their newborns on Facebook or send out cute postcards listing the height and weight of the next Packer’s linebacker – on the eighth day after he was born, Mary and Joseph made the bold, public announcement that the name of their baby would be Jesus – which means, the Lord saves (Matthew 1:21).

Understand what a remarkable act of faith this was for Mary and Joseph. They hadn’t been married when the angel showed up to tell them that they would be having a child (Matthew 1:18-25; Luke 1:26-38). They weren’t in the same bed when this child was conceived. They had been compelled by the Roman government to travel to Bethlehem at the very point when traveling was the last thing Mary should have been doing. There were no vacancies at the motels in Bethlehem and so they stayed in a stable. Strange shepherds were the only ones to come to congratulate them on the birth of their child. By all appearances, this was an illegitimate child born to poor, homeless, nameless Jews. By all appearances, there was nothing special about this child. By all appearances the world could care less about the birth of this child. But Mary and Joseph believed what the angel told them. They trusted that this child was more than he appeared, they believed he was their Savior and the Savior of the world. So they obeyed God by having him circumcised and by giving him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21).

What does this mean for us? Well, it means that we don’t need a voter’s meeting or polling data or the newest How to Make Your Church Grow book to determine our direction for the New Year. Proclaiming this name, Jesus – the Lord saves – has been the church’s mission since the beginning and will continue to be our mission in 2022. We will preach Jesus’ name to a world that has already moved on from the baby born in Bethlehem. We will baptize little depraved sinners in Jesus’ name and into his family. We will teach Jesus’ words and works to a new generation of young believers. We will feed and fortify the faith of all ages against the attacks of Satan and the world with Bible study and the Lord’s Supper. We may commit the bodies of fellow believers to the dust but we will commit their souls to the Father’s care in Jesus’ name. The name of Jesus is what we will tell our grandchildren and our coworkers and our neighbors – even if they don’t want to hear it. Proclaiming Jesus’ name is not an easy, and lately it seems an unpopular, resolution for the New Year. The world will not like it that we take the attention off of them and their accomplishments and point the spotlight at Jesus and what he has accomplished for us. But it is the only resolution that will save souls for all eternity. So here in our little corner of creation, because a baby boy bled for us, 2022 will find us proclaiming Jesus’ saving name.

The world around us had a huge party this weekend to celebrate little more than the turning of a page of the calendar. The church has much more to celebrate. We celebrate Sunday – not coincidentally, the 8th day of the week – as the day on which Jesus rose from the dead, we still stand in the glow of God’s Christmas gift to us, and today in particular we rejoice that because Jesus bled for us, we can look forward to 2022 with optimism, hope and joy because we are forgiven in his name, we live in his name, and we proclaim his name. Amen.

[1] Plass, Ewald M., What Luther Says, 321

[2] https://nypost.com/2018/12/21/new-years-resolutions-last-exactly-this-long/