Life After Easter - Only in the Word Crucified.

In the Name of our Crucified and Risen Lord Christ. Amen

Dear fellow Christians redeemed through the blood of Jesus:

In the old days, the Church pulled out all the stops for services on Easter Dawn and Easter Morning — and Easter Evening and Easter Monday and Easter Tuesday. Forty days of Lent followed by fifty days of Easter Light, Easter Joy, Easter Alleluias. Fifty full days of responding in faith — with our mouths and hearts — to the announcement of the angels, "You seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He has risen. See the place where they laid him."
But these days we are all wiped out after Easter Morning. Our energies are spent, our batteries dead and our service to the Lord and his Church worn out. No wonder why, more often than not, in Christian Churches around the country, this Sunday, the Sunday after Easter, suffers from the worst attendance of any Sunday of the Church Year. "What's wrong with this picture?"
Is there life after Easter? And if so, what kind of life is there for the Church, for us as Christians, for all who are true children of God and his salvation given through Christ's Word and Spirit?
Life for the believer in the light of Easter is to be understood in light of seven verses in the third chapter of the book of Genesis:

Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden’?” And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.’” But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths. (Genesis 3:1-7 ESV)

The temptation to follow our fallen eyes instead of our redeemed ears is as much a reality for us as it was for Eve in the Garden under the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The world, in it's unbelief, knows everything about seeing, but very little about listening. Our old nature will always prefer what is glorious to the eyes over the truth and hidden glory of the Word. As Satan whispered, "Look at it. Touch it. Feel it. Take it." to our great-great-grandmother, so he whispered to the disciples and to Thomas: "Seeing is believing. Follow your eyes and finger and hand. Don't trust mere words. Don't put your faith in what comes out of some man's mouth. Demand evidence that you can grab and hold on to."
The women had — despite their great fear and the great possibility that the disciples would write them off as silly — faithfully reported what the angel at the tomb had announced. As the first Easter dawn witnesses of their Lord's resurrection, the women had not only reported what they had seen, but, bottom line, what they had heard from heaven's messenger:

Now after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, [just] as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you.” (Matthew 28:1-6 ESV)

There are too many congregations that believe the center of the saving Gospel in light of the Lord's Resurrection is: "Jesus isn't dead anymore. He lives on." But Easter is as much a celebration of Jesus not being dead anymore as Good Friday is a funeral service.
This is the dirty little secret that the devil, the world and our old sinful nature loves to perpetuate. This is the Gospel that isn't really the Gospel at all. And this is the reason why we feel so burned out and lifeless after all the busyness and hoopla of Easter activities.
The festival of the Resurrection of our Lord can't be an event "for our eyes only." It must be a fifty day "Amen!" to what we have heard from heaven, a fifty day "Alleluia!" to the words of the angels, a life-long response in faith to the Word of God — the Word of God in, with and under the prophets and apostles; the Word of God in, with and under water; the Word of God in, with and under bread and wine; the Word of God in, with, and under human flesh and blood.
When Saint John began his inspired narrative of salvation fulfilled in Christ, he focused not on Jesus' good looks and charismatic personality that made teenage girls scream and faint. Saint John follows the revealed history of creation when he presents the history of creation restored by centering not only the first chapter but the entire Gospel account on the Word — the Word with a capital W. The Word that creates and redeems and restores a fallen creation and a sin-enslaved humanity.
Thomas doubted the reports of the women and the other disciples because he let his unbelieving old nature lead. "I need proof — proof that my eyes can see, my finger touch, my hand confirm. Without evidence that I can grab on to — I will never believe!"
That's why churches have thrown out the hymnal and the pipe organ and the piano and the choir and replaced it with sub-woofers, liturgical dancers and a drum set. "I don't want to hear the worship service, I want to feel it." they say.
But feeling that Jesus is alive again does us no good at all. Sometimes, when it comes to the true Christian faith, seeing isn't believing.
That was exactly the problem with the Jewish religious leaders. They demanded signs because they didn't want the Word of God given in grace and received in faith. They hungered for a religious circus. The religious leaders at the foot of the cross became the mouthpiece of Satan himself as they tempted Jesus with the words, "Come down from the cross, that we may see and believe!"
They followed evil King Herod himself in demanding that Jesus perform for them. "Show me." Herod demanded. "Do a little performance for me, and maybe I won't do to you what I did to your friend, John the Baptist."
But, as Jesus had told the Pharisees, no performance would be given. No song and dance for those who refused to hear the Word of the Lord — for those who refused to open their ears and hearts to the Word of God made flesh and blood. No miraculous sightings in bleeding marble statues. No miraculous appearances in patterns of granite cut for a church altar. No miraculous images on bagels or tortillas or Cheetos or frozen fish stick. Nothing we can see today save the words handed down from the pen of the prophets and apostles; the words of the Divine Service, the words of the Creed; the words of the hymnal and Small Catechism; the words from the font and altar.
So when Jesus shows up before the disciples in the upper room that first Easter Sunday evening, the first thing our Lord does is not give out hugs or pull a rabbit out of his tunic. He speaks as the Word of God — the Word of God crucified, dead and buried, raised on the third day.
He speaks as the great Good Shepherd — the great Good Shepherd who bears in his wrists and feet and side the marks of laying his life down — for the eternal salvation of sheep that loved to wander.
This is the only thing that could bring the shaking-in-their-boots disciples peace, and it is the only thing that can give any of us the peace that surpasses all human understanding. Jesus is giving witness to all that he had been sent to accomplish as he shows the marks of his sacrificial death in his hands and feet and side — marks of the crucifixion that will bear witness to God's grace and Christ's love for the world — even in eternity.
Only with Christ the crucified can we hear the Word of eternal peace graciously given for doubting, grumbling, unbelieving, rebel children of Adam and Eve who would rather see a floor show than close their mouths and listen to the Word of God with the ears and heart of faith.
"Peace be unto you." our risen-from-the-dead Lord announces on that first Easter evening. "I given you my peace — the fruit of my birth, for you; the fruit of my perfect life, for you; the fruit of my agony in the garden, for you; the fruit of my passion, for you; the fruit of my bitter suffering and death, for you; the fruit of my three day rest in the tomb, for you; the fruit of my resurrection and ascension into heaven — all for you and for the world."

When Jesus appeared to his disciples it was in the same upper room in which he instituted his Holy Supper: the culmination and fulfillment of everything the Passover and Exodus pointed to. The same room in which he announced how this particular peace would be won. "Take, drink. This is the cup of the new testament [my last will and testament] poured out for many for the forgiveness of sin."
This is how central the forgiveness of sins is for the Church and for each of us as Christians — because it was everything that Christ came to fulfill for us all. Eternal, life-giving peace between God and neighbor through the forgiveness of sins. That is what was on Jesus' mind during the Last Supper, the walk to the Garden of Gesthemane, the agonizing prayer a stone's throw away from sleeping disciples, the scourging, the mockery and temptation from the foot of the cross, the unimaginable forsakenness upon the Cross. "This will win peace for the world. This will secure forgiveness for all my Father's children."

There is life after Easter — only if there is life given and received and kept safe in our Lord Christ. Even after the Easter lilies have faded and the family get-togethers forgotten and the Easter left-overs consumed, there is life in Christ wherever he is present to announce: "Stop being faithless and believe that I have secured the forgiveness of sins through my sacrificial death and resurrection. Freely I give to you my saving Word. Hold tight to it as I declare unto all who will receive my Word in faith: Peace be with you — always."
May we, with Thomas, hear the Word of God with redeemed ears, that we might respond with a mouth and heart of faith, "Alleluia. He is risen from the dead, lives and reigns to all eternity — for me."

In the Name of our Crucified and Risen Lord Christ. Amen

Easter Vigil Sermon - John 1:5

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Brothers and Sisters Brought into the Light of Christ:

And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. (Mark 15:33 ESV)

Things couldn't have been darker on that Good Friday. The sun and the moon hid their faces from the unimaginable. The earth quaked at the sight of the very Son of God receiving the cruelest of deaths as a barbaric murderer, a capital offender, a renegade deserving no show of humane treatment. Those who passed by turned their heads at the sight. The disciples had looked on from a distance, and then left, overpowered with grief and trembling with fear.
The darkness of the sky paled in comparison to the darkness of despair, for now the Promised One, the Messiah, the Savior and Redeemer of the World hung suspended motionless between the heavens and the earth, slain at the hands of evil men bent on preserving their power and prestige at any cost.
Jesus had announced the coming of "the hour" throughout his three and a half year public ministry — to his mother, to his brothers, to the disciples, to the Samaritan woman at the well, to his heavenly Father. And now the hour had finally arrived.
On the day that our Lord Christ was sacrificed upon the wood of the cross, the God-appointed substitute for an entire rebel race was plunged into the dark chaos of time before God spoke his Word of light and order and life. The Light of the World lay lifeless upon a borrowed Cross. The Light of the World lay lifeless in a borrowed tomb.
The night of despair for those who had placed their trust in this Jesus of Nazareth kept the disciples and the women who had followed him from any sense of certainty or peace. There was no consolation. There was no solace. There would be no restful sleep this night.
And so the women threw themselves into making preparations for their Sunday visit to the tomb to array the dead body of Jesus with their tokens of love and devotion.
Yes, the darkness was suffocating for Christ's own. The silence and cold damp of the night. The wrestling of mind and heart. "Why had Jesus walked down this road? Why didn't he see what was coming? What are we to do when we have no power to bring him back to us or restore the light of life in our souls? How can we meet another day void of hope and gripped in confusion and fear? Who will rescue us from this overwhelming darkness and despair?"
The hour of darkness had fallen upon Jesus, and all his disciples who found themselves blindly groping for anything that would help make sense of a completely senseless situation. We see that unshakeable despondency in the disciples on the road to Emmaus, in Mary weeping at the tomb, in the disciples cowering behind bolted doors, in Thomas' pledge to himself that he would never be hurt this way again.

But Christ had not left them without his Word. He had announced that his Passion would be followed with his being raised form the dead. He had preached the sign of Jonah. He had proclaimed that he was the fulfillment of the very Passover eaten by the children of Israel the night before their deliverance from the darkness and death of Egypt's oppression. He had promised them deliverance and life and light.
But they were asking themselves, "What use are mere words now that darkness has overtaken us?" That's the question each of us as believers must settle in our own hearts and minds. "What are mere words in the midst of such dark uncertainty — in the midst of such dark sin and despair and death?"
That is the question of the hour this hour as we await in darkness — in faith — as we await the appearance of the Light of salvation. That is the question that frames the entire fourth Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ:
The Holy Gospel According to Saint John, the first chapter:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.
And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known. (John 1:1-5, 9-14, 16-18 ESV)

For those of us who are on the verge of despair, for those of us who are fighting against the enveloping darkness of our sin, for those of us who are shaking in the cold damp of our helplessness and hopelessness, God announces clearly that there is One who was before the darkness, One who is above the darkness: the enlightening Word of God through whom all things were made; the life-giving Word of God who overcame the darkness — through the darkness of the sky on Good Friday, through the darkness and chill of the grave on Holy Saturday.
For, when it comes to the redeeming Word of God made flesh, it is as the old proverb says, "The darkest hour is just before the dawn."
Moses confirms that the darkness of night gives way to the light of day when he writes, "God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day." (Genesis 1:5 ESV)
And so the faithful, even in the midst of darkness, wait in faith for the morning light to come and restore all things.
Faith, created by the same Word that created the sun and the moon and the stars, keeps vigil for the appearance of Christ, even on the most hopeless of nights. Faith in the Word of God that keeps us awake and alert and watching for the first rays of his appearing.
This is the Christian faith that triumphs over fear and sin and death itself. This is the gift of trust in the Word of Christ that prevents us from scurrying back into the darkness of our ignorance, guilt and shame when the Light of Heaven reveals himself to us.
Christ has not come to simply expose our sin and then leave us to our own pitiful abilities to rescue ourselves out of the gloom of our own spiritual quicksand. That was the job of the Law and Moses and the Ten Commandments: exposing sin in the light of God's holy will for his creatures.
No, Christ has come to bring sin to light, that he might take it and drag it to Calvary.
The light of Easter morning is the light of God's own revelation —that Christ's sacrifice for sin has been accepted, — that Christ is raised to life never to die again, — that the Light of all Grace and Mercy has illuminated our hearts and minds as the Word comes and announces: you are now baptized into my name, my death and resurrection.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint John, the Sixteenth Chapter:

[Jesus'] disciples said, “Ah, now you are speaking plainly and not using figurative speech! Now we know that you know all things and do not need anyone to question you; this is why we believe that you came from God.” Jesus answered them, “Do you now believe? Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:29-33 ESV)

As the first rays of Easter dawn approach, let us sing the praises of him who is our light that no darkness can overcome. Let us give thanks to him who by his death destroyed death. Let us offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to him who has brought life and immortality to light for all who believe.

Mighty Victim from the sky
Hell's fierce pow'rs beneath you lie;
You have conquered in the fight;
You have brought us life and light. Alleluia!
(At the Lamb's High Feast We Sing. LSB 633:5)

Let us pray:
O thou that art the Light eternal, the Sun of Righteousness, evermore arising and never going down, giving light, food, and gladness unto all, mercifully vouchsafe to shine upon us, and cast thy blessed beams upon the dullness of our understanding and upon the dark mists of our sins and errors; for thine only merits, who art alone our Savior, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen

Maundy Thursday Sermon "God's Unexpected Grace."

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Brothers and Sisters Redeemed by the Grace of God in Christ Jesus:
For all intents and purposes, we should have finished our journey through the book of Jonah last Wednesday. The plot seemed straightforward enough: Jonah is called by God to preach to Ninevah. Jonah, for whatever reason, decides otherwise and heads the opposite way - to Tarshish via the open sea. God intervenes. Jonah is rescued from destruction by a great fish. Spit out on dry land, he journeys to Ninevah and preaches the city's immanent destruction. Ninevah repents; God relents. End of story.
But similar to some contemporary movies that have a scene or two after the credits roll, we suddenly realize that there is more to the book of Jonah, even after everything seems to have come to a pleasant end. Like the last chapter of the Gospel of John, here we have a kind of epilogue as Jonah stands and watches Ninevah repent and the storm clouds of God's wrath subside. Here we get a glimpse of the inner struggle within God's called and ordained prophet as he witnesses God's unexpected grace and mercy toward the most undeserving of people.
The book of Jonah, the third and fourth chapter:

When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil way, God relented of the disaster that he had said he would do to them, and he did not do it.
But it displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was angry. And he prayed to the LORD and said, “O LORD, is not this what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster. (Jonah 3:10-4:2 ESV)

This unexpected "narrative after the narrative" begins with what should have been received as good news. God's justice and power serving his mercy and forgiveness. God's Word, despite the inadequacies and weaknesses and sin of God's prophet, has it's way with the inhabitants of Ninevah. The severity of the Law brings a confession of sin and, in the midst of hopelessness, a hope that maybe God would turn from delivering upon their heads what the Ninevites knew they had coming as a result of all the evil their hands had done. God sends the sweetness of his Gospel to those found in sackcloth and ashes.
"However, it displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was angry." Our ESV translations soften the force of the original Hebrew text. A better translation into English might read, "However, it was evil to Jonah — a great evil — so that it inflamed him." (R. Reed Lessing. Jonah. 350)
God's Gospel of amazing grace was truly amazing to the people of Ninevah — and, in a completely different way, to God's own prophet Jonah.
Now we see clearly the inner-workings of Jonah as faith wrestles with unbelief, as the desire to forgive struggles with the desire to never forgive, as the Word of God goes head-to-head with the words of fallen Jonah.
The unbelievable had happened: God had relented of what he had said he would inflict on these undeserving people. And, because of this, the even more unbelievable had happened: Jonah calls God's declaration of unearned grace to the Ninevites not only unexpected and unbelievable — but evil — a great evil.
This revelation of the depravity of Jonah's sinful heart is the shocking kicker to the plot of the book of Jonah. We heard about some great things in the first three chapters of this book of the Bible. The greatness of the city of Ninevah. The greatness of the storm God hurled at the boat to bring pagan sailors to a confession of their sins. The greatness of the fish that rescues Jonah from his desire to drown in the sea rather than preach to those he had written off as undeserving of God's gift of a second chance. The greatness of Ninevah's repentance, from the king right down to the least of Ninevah's lowly animals.
And now we see up-front and center the greatness of Jonah's resentment — a resentment that calls God's great and amazing grace a great and amazing evil.
Jonah shakes his fist before God. "I knew you were going to do something unbelievable like this. I knew you might relent of your threats if they acknowledged their sin before you. Why didn't you follow through with what they had coming? Why are you so easily persuaded to give another chance to those who shouldn't be given any more chances, even if they should repent? Showing divine mercy to the unmerciful. Showing loving-kindness to the unloveable. Showing grace to those who had committed great evil is an even greater evil!"
Jonah had slid into something greater than mere confusion or displeasure or frustration. He was inflamed with anger. He had become enraged. He was seething with resentment.
And in the heat of his anger he prays a very different prayer than the one offered after being consumed by a sea creature. Jonah is now consumed with an unrighteous, sinful anger that cries out for something completely different than deliverance by God's gracious hand: unrestrained punishment for a city that, from Jonah's perspective, was not worth even the thought of saving.
"Why did you have to go and forgive them?" is Jonah's furious cry. "And why did you have to call me to deliver your almighty Word that brought about their repentance and pardon? Why did I have to be the one to bring your Word to these undeserving Gentiles? Your Word that allowed you to then come as a God of grace and mercy and loving-kindness, slow to bring punishment and disaster on the heads of those who deserve to drink your cup of wrath to the last drop? Your caving in to these Ninevites' plea for pardon is unfair and unjust and inexcusable. How dare you let your grace have the final word!"
The fact that God, in his heart of hearts, is a merciful God who's Word of Law serves his Word of Grace is a stone of stumbling to more than just an indignant Jonah. It consumed Cain and lead to the murder of his own brother. It consumed the Jewish religious leaders of Jesus' day and lead to the murder of the Son of God.
"This showing mercy to the undeserving is unacceptable." is found coming from not only the lips of the fallen prophet Jonah but also from the lips of Caiaphas and the Pharisees and scribes who took issue with Jesus' liberal dispensing of deliverance — salvation to even low-life tax collectors and sinners.
Jonah was a prisoner of his own sinful nature, a sinful nature that, in anger, cries out to the merciful Lord of heaven and earth: "If you are going to forgive the unforgivable sins of those people — if those kind of people are going to be graciously included in heaven — then I don't think I want to be a part of your plan of redemption. If Christ died for the deserving — the people I would approve of — the people that I can forgive — then all well and good. But there's got to be a limit on who Christ atones for."
That, unfortunately, is the teaching of many who call themselves Christians. "Christ died only for the elect," they mistakenly believe. "Those who God knew would do the right thing and change their heart and give some reason for God to offer them salvation. Everyone else is outside God's grace and mercy."
It makes sense to our old, sinful nature and to the world around us. God showering his grace on us is one thing. God showering his grace on others less deserving is quite another.
But sin is sin. Breaking God's holy and perfect will is breaking God's holy and perfect will. Deserving of God's wrath and punishment is deserving God's wrath and punishment.
Nevertheless, God's grace is God's grace. It is, by it's very nature completely undeserved, completely unexpected. Complete gift that has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with our Father and the one he has sent to save.
And as gift it can't be bought, earned or regulated — even by the old nature of God's called and ordained mouthpieces. The amazing gift of God's grace is always pure gift. That's what made it so foreign to Jonah's fallen way of thinking. God's grace for even foreigners. God's mercy for those who didn't have a clue how redemption would be revealed — how redemption would be won and secured for a sinful Adam and Eve and all their lost children.
When asked "what is the most difficult petition of the Lord's Prayer," some privately confess that it is the phrase, "thy will be done." That was the petition that also got Jonah's nose all out of joint. "Not my will, but yours be done" was perfectly prayed by only one: our Lord Christ on the night he was betrayed, on the night Judas gave himself over to the belief that Jesus' dispensing deliverance to the undeserving — even undeserving tax collectors and prostitutes and Gentiles — needed to come to a very quick end.
Jesus prayed for God's good and gracious will to be done. And tonight he calls on each of his own to join him in praying that God's Law would always serve his Gospel of forgiveness and restoration. That we would ask God to graciously forgive us as we, at the same time, are given the grace to forgive others.
Some things are out of our control. The way our sinful nature stains even our best intentions and seems to get the upper hand just when we think we've got him under control.
Some things are out of our control. The way God works all things for our ultimate good and the good of his people. The way the Word of God comes, even through poor and miserable sinners, to bring to despair those secure in their sins, and bring comfort to those who despair of any attempts to earn God's forgiveness.
The older brother of the prodigal son became incensed at what he saw as an unacceptable injustice in his father's gracious restoration of a son who didn't deserve restoring. But, thanks be to God, our heavenly Father replies to the old nature in Jonah — in each of us — with an affirmation of who he is — of who he cannot but be. This is the confession of faith found on the lips of Moses and all who are being saved:

“The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin ... ." (Exodus 34:6-7 ESV)

Tonight we remember in faith the culmination of God's revelation of his redeeming grace for the undeserving who have nothing to offer their Lord but their many sins. Tonight we see clearly for who's sake "the many" — Ninevah, the sailors, Jonah, Israel and each of us — are freely, lavishly, eternally forgiven.

Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the [new testament], which is poured out for [the] many for the forgiveness of sins." (Matthew 26:26-28 ESV)

By his grace, may God keep us from the great sin of being offended by the generosity of heaven's Gospel to those we don't believe it should be extended to. May our Lord through his Word open our lips, that our mouth would declare the amazing, unexpected grace of our Heavenly Father in Christ — in our lives and in the lives of all for who Christ died. Amen

The Gift of New Life - Born of Word and Water and Spirit (John 3:14-21)

In the Name of Jesus
Dear Redeemed in Christ:
Nicodemus was a nice enough guy. Educated, schooled in the best rabbinic institutions, he had climbed his way up to be one of the elite, a member of the Sanhedrin, those seventy priests and scribes who made up the ruling council in Jerusalem and governed Jerusalem and all of Judea, subject only to the Roman governor Pilate. Nicodemus had earned the honor of his fellow councilmen, and was the model Israelite not only before the council, but before his fellow citizens of Jerusalem. He had made it to the top. He enjoyed celebrity status. Favored by the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and admired by all who saw him on the streets of Jerusalem. Nicodemus: outstanding citizen and example of everything best in an obedient son of Israel. If anyone had an impressive list of the good they had done for God and their neighbor, it was Nicodemus.
But not everything was rosy on the inside for this man who's behavior was beyond reproach. He had recently seen with his very eyes and heard with his very ears something that was more and more disturbing to his scholarly mind and dedicated heart: the dawning of salvation through the advent of that wild man John the Baptist and his incessant cry that the Kingdom of God had finally come with the appearance of this strange carpenter's son from somewhere up in Galilee.
Nicodemus was intrigued and bewildered by the manner of Jesus' behavior: the miracles he freely performed and the authority that he claimed — all despite his quiet demeanor and unimpressive looks and far from charismatic personality.
Nicodemus didn't get quivers in his liver when he finally saw and hear this Jesus for himself. What he did receive was a strange, unexpected sense that something was going on here that defied his — and the Jerusalem council's — expectations, something that convicted him and seemed to put into question all the good he thought was racking up — for God, for God's people, for — ultimately — himself.
"What to do?" haunted this man Nicodemus until, one restless night, he could take it no longer. He would go to Jesus under the cover of darkness and see if this self-proclaimed man of God was actually the real thing — or a self-seeking impostor and trouble-maker like his fellow councilmen had argued.
The Word of Christ was doing his work on Nicodemus, as it continues to do in our hearts and minds as well. And with some recognition that everything was not as it should be when it came to Nicodemus' salvation, he approached Jesus with a strange mix of hesitation and expectation.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint John, the Third Chapter:
Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things? Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen, but you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except he who descended from heaven, the Son of Man.” (John 3:1-13 ESV)
Nicodemus' heart and mind were suddenly reeling. Jesus' reply to his opening complements had gone in a completely unexpected direction. Instead of giving a few pointers on how to behave a little more pious, Jesus was revealing the complete inability of fallen human flesh and blood to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
Jesus was calling for a entirely new birth of water and the Spirit. And he was calling for faith that put its trust solely on the working of God through water and Word and Spirit — independent of any fallen human understanding behind the why and the where and the how.
That's the one thing that had been left out of the equation during Nicodemus' theological training. That's the one thing the world will never get. That's the one thing the Sanhedrin would never accept: salvation by grace through faith in the sacrifice of God's one and only Son. A plan that ran in the face of all human wisdom and logic. A plan of redemption that gave no credit to any human work not a fruit, a product, of water and the Word and the Spirit of God from above.
Jesus' words seem harsh because, as we are re-learning in the midweek Lenten services this year, God must first kill with his Word before he can make alive. The Word from Heaven must first condemn all attempts by fallen, sinful people to to ascend into heaven on the merit of their own good works. For the Spirit of God has not come to rehabilitate the old nature through some program of spiritual chin-ups and jumping jacks. The Spirit of God has come to take our old nature and drown it.
This is the "earthly thing" Jesus is clearly revealing to Nicodemus — and through him to you and me. Our own best efforts are useless. Our good works — necessary as they are in this life — don't do anything before Almighty God, who sees our depraved hearts and the sin-stained fruit it can't help but produce. Nothing we can do as fallen and helpless children of our first fallen and helpless parents can get us out of the dark night of our sin and the deadly consequences of that sin.
Despite all the talk these days about doing this or not doing that in order to be saved - only a new birth will suffice — a new birth by God in Christ and his Word through the Holy Spirit.
As a teenager I wished everyday that I could have had a decision in who my parents and brothers and sister would be. Why didn't I get a vote in choosing not to suffer through the icy winters of Michigan while kids my age in Huntington Beach were walking around the mall in shorts and boogie boarding in March?
Well, because the gift of live is a gift. It is not chosen by us. It is not created by us or voted on. We didn't ask God to create the heavens and the earth in seven days or our body and soul, our family and neighbors and church. They were gifted upon us, in spite of the venemous disease of sin. Life and new life as an undeserved, unexpected, unexplained, unmeasurable, joyous gift descended from the Lord of heaven himself in the person and work of his Son.
God had a different plan than the children of Israel or the Sanhedrin or the spiritual elite could have even imagined. Deliverance won by thirty pieces of silver - the price of a slave. Redemption accomplished by the handing over of the Messiah into the clutches of evil men. The cup of salvation secured by Christ drinking to the dregs the cup of God's deadly wrath. Death defeated for all through the death of the Word of Life himself made flesh.
Jesus says as much as he reveals to Nicodemus,
“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. (John 3:14-15 ESV)
God uses the earthly things of this world to redeem the world. God uses the flesh and bones of his Son made flesh to glorify our bodies and rescue our souls from the cold chill of the grave.
Christ delivers us from sin by becoming flesh of our flesh — by becoming sin for us.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” (John 3:16-21 ESV)
Our old nature wants salvation to come in a very different way: through some ecstatic emotional experience or the handling of poisonous snakes or a new regiment of spiritual principles. Our sinful nature wants salvation to show up at the door through some "discipline of Lent" in which we re-dedicate ourselves to being nicer Christians and more lovable people before God.
But the verbs of Lent — the verbs of redemption — are never to be centered on what we "give up" or give to God. That's why the season of Lent must be re-interpreted (or just plain ignored) by by those that will not allow Jesus himself to "do the verbs" of salvation.
Handed over, lead away, poured out, offered up.
These are the proper verbs of Lent because they put the spotlight on the object of saving faith: our Lord Christ and his work in our place.
When Nicodemus came to see Jesus, it was in the darkness of not knowing — not believing — that Jesus had come to reveal himself as someone very different than some great rabbi who can channel divine spirits. Nicodemus is the stand-in for our own fallen nature as he investigates not only who Jesus really is but what has he come to do — what has he come to accomplish and win.
And Jesus' reply to the questions of Nicodemus: It is necessary that the Son of Man be lifted up, as the bronze serpent was lifted up in the wilderness.
To shame all fallen human understanding. To condemn all human attempts of constructing a ladder to heaven out of our own good works.
To allow only faith — God-gifted faith — to believe that the greatest and clearest revelation of God's wrath unleashed upon sin is — at the same time — the greatest and clearest revelation of God's boundless grace and mercy and forgiveness and reconciliation for Nicodemus. For Caiaphas and Pilate. For the betrayer Judas. For those we find it so difficult to forgive and care for.
Jesus lifted up — for even you. Amen

Straightaway with Power — to Save.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Fellow Baptized into Christ:

The season is Epiphany, that time of the church year that encompasses Jesus' entire public ministry from the time of his Baptism in the Jordan by John until his holy, innocent suffering and death in Jerusalem. Epiphany is a season that focuses our eyes upon Christ as the Light of the world, the revelation of God's good favor to the nations.
And so the great epiphany hymn (the lead-off hymn in the epiphany section of our hymnal), "Songs of Thankfulness and Praise," recounts the many and various ways in which Christ manifested himself and his redeeming mission to the nations drawn to the very glory of Israel hidden in this carpenter's son from the back woods of Nazareth.
In this season of Epiphany we place our ears and our hearts under the Word of God to listen to the ways Jesus was revealed to us: in the star that guided the magi to the infant king's manger; in the thunderous pronouncement by our heavenly Father at Jesus' baptism; and, as our Gospel this morning reveals: manifest in miraculous healings of not only physical illness, but as Saint Mark would want us to take to heart, manifest most importantly in the rescue from the forces of evil that ensnare and helplessly chain us to a life of misery and slavery to the powers of darkness and evil.
Hear again as the Word of God Incarnate comes with power to redeem all languishing under the load of the devil, the world and their own sinful nature.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Mark, the first chapter:
And they [Jesus and the disciples he had just called] went into Capernaum, and immediately on the Sabbath he entered the synagogue and was teaching. And they were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes. (Mark 1:21-22 ESV)
In the Gospel narrative of Saint Mark, we see Jesus wasting no time in bringing all of salvation history to it's fulfillment. "And immediately" characterizes Jesus as he comes to a fallen humanity to fulfill Moses and the Prophets and establish redemption as the Messiah — as the very Son of God. With the inauguration of Jesus' public ministry through the water of the Jordan, the hand of the Baptist, and the Word of God from heaven, the wheels of redemption are set in motion. The disciples are called straightaway; the unadulterated Word of God is preached without delay; the suffering are speedily healed; repentant sinners are given the undeserved gifts of forgiveness and restored as children of God and heirs of heaven right then and there.
Jesus didn't have time for small talk and five hour pre-game shows. Our Lord didn't have the luxury of getting around to things next year or next month or next week. The time of salvation in the person and work of the Messiah had come, and with Jesus' anointing as Messiah, there could be no time outs, no half-time show, no commercial break, no delay of game. Jesus marched into Capernaum and straightaway entered the synagogue on the Sabbath to immediately do what he had been called to do: preach and teach and heal as he resolutely made his "without delay," "without hesitation," "straightaway" walk to Jerusalem, and the Cross that awaited him there.
That was the sum and substance of Jesus' life-giving teaching in that synagogue in Capermaum that Sabbath, and that continues to be the life-giving content of all God-pleasing preaching and teaching this day — this Super Bowl Sunday — and every day — until that day when Christ will come to judge the living and the dead.
That's what made Jesus' teaching on that day completely different than the ramblings of the scribes. Jesus did not have any need to quote the unending and often contradictory opinions of those who presented themselves as religious experts. Jesus had no need of wasting the time of those sick and dying in their sin with a litany of lecturing on religious etiquette of the day. Christ didn't need the permission or the blessing of Moses or the prophets (or the pharisees or the scribes — the interpreters of Moses and the prophets) as he spoke to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.
Christ did not come to interpret and give some opinion on the Word of God. Those in the synagogue that day were bowled over by Jesus' teaching simply because the divine Word of God was made manifest right in their midst. Jesus did not justify his words by pointing to the opinions of the world's religious experts. Unlike the scribes, Jesus proclaimed that Moses and the prophets pointed to him. The scribes came to justify their own opinions through Moses and the Prophets. Jesus came and announced that Moses and the Prophets are justified through him.
"And they were astonished at the authority of his teaching."
That's what happens when God's people are fed a steady diet of the rambling opinions of religious leaders who justify themselves by quoting anyone and everyone — but refuse to preach the One to whom Moses and the Prophets ultimately point: the Word of God incarnate, the one true Son of God, the one true Suffering Servant of God, the one true Light of Heaven and sinless Lamb of God who alone can take away the sin of the world.
"And they were astonished at the authority of his teaching."
Finally, here was the Word of God right in their midst, the Word of God that creates and sustains and calls forth faith in Christ and the power of his gracious, redeeming Word.
And immediately there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit. And he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are— the Holy One of God.” But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying out with a loud voice, came out of him. (Mark 1:23-26 ESV)
The congregation is left speechless by the clear Word of Christ as his teaching begins to illuminate darkened minds and hearts. And immediately, suddenly, without warning, Jesus' saving Word is met with the word of a representative of all who would fight against God and the Kingdom of Grace and Salvation he has sent Christ to eternally establish.
"This is our territory." the unclean spirit announces. "This is our arena." "We know that God has set you apart to do his holy work. But we will not let you go unchallenged. Have you come to engage us in battle? Have you come to lay claim to this sin-infested world and these sin-infected people? Tell us — what exactly are you are up to? Explain yourself!"
But Jesus will have no part in justifying his calling and mission to his opponents — to the devil, the world or our own sinful nature. The Son of God did not come to justify himself, but that through him, those oppressed with sin and the forces of evil might be rescued from the dungeon of darkness and death.
He will be the one to order what is to be said, and what is to be silenced. And with the authority of almighty God, Jesus immediately puts a muzzle on the tongue of the unclean spirit. There will be no appeal or pleading. No debate. No deal-making. Just an authoritative command: "Be silent and come out of him!"
And, as we already know, the Word of God has the power to do what it commands. "Be silent. Come out of him. Depart. Release him. Let him go. He is now mine."
Yes, the devil and his minions are real. The forces of evil are great. But, thanks be to God, the grace of Christ to defend his own is even greater.
And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying out with a loud voice, came out of him. (Mark 1:26 ESV)
You could have heard a pin drop in that synagogue in Capernaum that Sabbath as the sunshine through the doors illuminated the dust in the air and the now motionless man freed from the control of a oppressive spirit — a demon opposed to everything Christ had been sent to be and do.
And they were all amazed, so that they questioned among themselves, saying, “What is this? A new teaching with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” And at once his fame spread everywhere throughout all the surrounding region of Galilee. (Mark 1:27-28 ESV)
"What is this?" indeed. A sure and certain Word come straight from God with all the authority of heaven itself.

Are you tired of listening to the religious experts of the world with their endless opinions on what you should or shouldn't do to earn God's favor while you languish under the forces that oppress and enslave you?
Are you sick of trying another five-step program to challenge your old sinful nature and get control over your doubts and fears and rebellion to what you know is God's good and gracious will?
Are you at your wit's end when it comes to living the double life of behaving like the perfect Christian but secretly knowing that your heart and mind and soul is far from the holiness and righteousness almighty God requires?
Are you waving the white flag of surrender after hearing the severity of the Law Moses has brought down from the mountain, engraved on tablets of stone by the very finger of God?
Then listen with the ears and heart of faith as Moses announces:
“The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers—it is to him you shall listen." (Deuteronomy 18:15 ESV)
Listen to the one to whom Moses points. Listen to the one who is the Torah of God, the Wisdom of God, the one who fulfilled perfectly the Ten Commandments — for Moses and the prophets and the congregation gathered in Capernaum on that Sabbath — and the congregation gathered here this morning.
Christ has come without delay to wash you with his Word in, with and under water, as he commands through the mouth of the pastor:
"Depart you unclean spirit and make room for the Holy Spirit in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Receive the sign of the holy cross both upon your forehead and upon your heart to mark you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified."
Christ has come without delay to manifest his great mercy — as he forgives you all of your sins and strengthens God-given faith in, with and under the bread and wine of his holy Supper.
Christ has come without delay, just as Moses has said, to show his great mercy to all oppressed by the kingdom of darkness and death, showing his power in delivering us from evil.
Christ has not come to debate or babysit or entertain you. He has come to take upon himself your sin and wretchedness, to free you from your chains, and cover you with the white robe of his perfect righteousness.
Receive him and his redeeming Word as he comes this day. Put your trust solely upon him as you and all his saints await the day of his final epiphany — the glorious day when he will manifest himself to all, calling all who believe into his eternal presence, into that eternal Sabbath rest.
May we ever be prepared for his appearing, as we join the saints in heaven and on earth and pray, "Come Lord Jesus. Come without delay. Come quickly and speak your mighty Word — your gracious Word — and save us."

"Turn a Blind Eye? Christ Calls his Own to Follow Him."

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Fellow Redeemed by the Grace of our All-Knowing Savior:
The ancient wisdom of the ages continues to offer its advise for those who are entering into a new relationship: keep both eyes open before beginning that new relationship - and then, after joining in that relationship, keep one eye closed. That might be good advise for not only those considering marriage, but for those entering into a business partnership or a friendship in the classroom. On a very practical level, that proverb speaks to our relationships in the home, at work, at school, in our neighborhood, and even in the way we relate to others in the church.
Because "keep both eyes open, and then keep one eye closed" speaks to how we can carry out our partnerships with others: examine everything with a judicious eye before signing on the bottom line, before promising vows before the altar, before swearing mutually undying loyalty to each other. Be very critical when it comes to choosing friends and business partners and neighbors and a spouse. Know exactly what you are getting into.
That's the intended strength of online dating services and pre-marital counseling with a pastor. That's the thought behind Dr. Phil stressing that parents have to know what's going on with their children's friends. If we want relationships to last, if we want partnerships to stand the test of time, if we want friendships to be more than just arrangements of convenience and self-centered utilitarianism, we need to realistically, responsibly, cautiously investigate what we are getting ourselves into.
That's why Redeemer Lutheran offers new membership classes on a regular basis. So that prospective members can check out what this congregation believes, teaches and confesses, that there wouldn't be any surprises down the road. Guests and visitors and friends of the congregation should know — up front — where we stand on important doctrines of Christianity, where our priorities lie, what we are committed to be and do under God's grace and calling.
But "keep both eyes open" is only the first half of the saying. Proverbial wisdom would also have us (after doing the hard work of checking things out and doing our "due diligence") remember to keep one eye closed.
Because our spouse and parent and child and partner and friend and neighbor is a weak and fallen human being who is far from perfect, despite what we might initially think or feel. The world acknowledges that it is hard work to keep relationships going because people in our life sometimes — even often — do things and say things and think things that bother us and annoy us and even hurt and wound us.
Scripture goes even further as it reveals not only the real fallen, weak and sinful condition of all those he places into our lives. Scripture — the holy Word of God — reveals that we too contribute to difficulties and strains and bumps in the road when it comes to those with which we share some significant part of our life.
Scripture holds up the clear mirror of the Law — to not only our neighbor's eyes but also to our eyes, that we might begin to understand that our behavior is much more problematic that we might first think. That's what God continues to do — even for Christians — in the Ten Commandments and in the Beatitudes and the exhortations of the prophets and apostles. God holds up his holy and perfect will to our eyes — for our sake and the sake of the precious relationships he has given us to nurture.
Relationships — lasting and blessed relationships — are so precious here on earth because all of us — without exception — live in a universe that too often revolves around self and what relationships can do for our own pleasure and power, for own own interests and greatness and glory.
That's the hard reality that forms the backdrop of broken relationships and spoiled partnerships and friendships gone toxic. According to the wisdom of the world, we need to understand our neighbor as best we can, but then, when we enter into a relationship with another fallen child of Adam and Eve, we need to keep one eye closed — to turn a blind eye to fallen behavior that can be difficult to put up with. To pretend those annoying habits and quirks just aren't there. The wisdom of the world: turn a discriminating eye, but then turn a blind eye to the fallen words and actions of those around us.
But on this the Lord's Day, on this the Second Sunday of Epiphany, how does Christ Jesus manifest his saving glory to us and to the nations? Does he follow the lead of Andrew and Nathaniel in the world's wisdom of "keeping one eye open, then turning a blind eye to the faults and trespasses around us"? How does Christ come to save?
The Holy Gospel According to Saint John, the first chapter:
The next day, after Jesus had decided to leave for Galilee, he found Philip and said to him, ‘Follow me.’ Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the town of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, ‘We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and the prophets gave witness to: Jesus son of Joseph, from Nazareth.’ Nathanael said to [Andrew], ‘From Nazareth? Can anything good come from there?’ Philip replied to him, ‘Come and see.’ When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him he said of him, ‘Look! A true Israelite in whom there is no deceit.’ Nathanael asked [Jesus], ‘How do you know me?’ Jesus replied, ‘Before Philip called you, while you were under the fig tree, I saw you.’ Nathanael answered, ‘Rabbi, you are the Son of God. You are the king of Israel.’ (John 1:43-49)
That inspired, eyewitness account of day four of the beginning of Jesus' redeeming ministry should properly take our breath away and make our jaw drop (as it did Nathaniel's) — for more than a few reasons — first and foremost being that Christ, true man, manifests himself as — shows himself to be — the all-seeing, all-knowing Son of God.
It is Christ who amazingly approaches this dark and dying world, approaches each of us, with his eyes wide open. It is Christ who reveals himself as the omniscient Son of God. He knows Nathaniel's behavior and actions. He sees Nathaniel's mind and heart. Nothing is hidden from his eyes. He sees all our fears and doubt, and he knows if we have received his gracious gifts in faith and taken them to heart. Christ sees everything when it comes to Nathaniel and he sees and knows and understands everything when it comes to me and when it comes to you. Even when he finds us in darkness, the Light brings everything to light.
Jesus not only sees the gift of faith received in Nathaniel, but sees the rest of us as well. Our questions and our doubts, our unbelief in the scandal of God's redemption sent in the hiddenness of the ordinary, the hiddenness of the unexpected, the hiddenness of suffering and the agony of the Cross.
When Jesus comes, everything is transparent. Nathaniel began to realize that nothing could be hidden from this carpenter's son from the lowly, unimpressive little town of Nazareth. Jesus saw Nathaniel as no one else could ever see him, his helplessness and weakness and fallenness and sin. And, in spite of all that — with eyes wide open — Jesus called Nathaniel to faith. He called him to be one of twelve members of the new Israel, and bids him to be an eyewitness of the love of Christ — love that compels our Lord to do something very different than turn a blind eye to sin and pretend it doesn't exist.
Jesus doesn't turn a blind eye, but turns our trespasses and sins into his own, offering his righteousness in their place.
The Word of God incarnate comes to shine his revealing Light into our lives and behavior, into our past, into our minds and heart and soul. He sees us as we really are, as so much less that what he has create us to be. And still, he finds us and brings us to himself, to forgive and renew and wash clean in his sacrifice — his sacrifice for an entire world that couldn't sustain a God-pleasing relationship if its life depended on it.
Our Lord is in the business of graciously, mercifully giving the saving gifts he has won for us by his holy, innocent suffering and death. Christ the Light does not make light of our sins — he mercifully atones for them.
He gave the gift of life, forgiveness and salvation to Andrew. Jesus gave the gift of faith to Andrew, and that faith showed itself in Andrew inviting Nathaniel to come into the light — into the Light of Christ.
The season of Epiphany is the season of Christ revealing himself to not only the children of Israel, but also to the nations, just as his salvation was revealed to the magi not long after his birth. The season of Epiphany is, therefore, also a season of Christian mission — a season of God-given faith calling and exhorting and inviting others to come to him who sees all, who knows all — and still, comes to save, through the shedding of his very life-blood.
Jesus replied, ‘Do you believe just because I said: I saw you under the fig tree? You are going to see greater things than these.’ And he said to [Nathaniel], ‘Truly, truly I tell you, you will see heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man.’ (John 1:50-51)
Christ manifests himself not as a way-shower, but as the Way. He is not some tour guide to heaven. His work upon the Cross is the very ladder into God's presence — for sinful Jacob and for you.
Receive the Light of Heaven as he comes with his eyes wide open to put everything of yours in the light.
Receive the King of Israel as he manifests himself as the one and only foundation of any lasting relationship we could ever receive, on earth and in heaven.
Receive the very Son of God, as he blinds the eyes of those who will not believe, and opens the eyes of faith to his redemption in, with and under the lowly prophets and apostles — in, with and under lowly water and bread and wine — in, with and under the giving of his very self at Calvary.
Let Christ come and bring you into his Light. Let him take a good look at you in the light of his Law. And then let him deal with that one thing that prevents us from any lasting relationship with God or our neighbor.
Let Christ come and forgive and bring new life to you — and those he has placed in your life.
God grant it for the sake of his glory and the salvation of many.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Singing the Song of the Coming Christ

In the Name of Jesus

Dear Fellow Christians awaiting the coming of Christ:

The inspired Gospel writers were lead by the Holy Spirit to begin at the very beginning. And, as we know from the Sound of Music, the beginning is a very good place to start.
For the Evangelists Matthew and Mark and Luke and John, there can be no beginning at the manger, there can be no beginning with shepherds and angels, there can be no beginning of our Christmas celebration, no celebration of Christ's coming, without observing what comes before the coming, what begins before the beginning: the birth of John the Baptist before the birth of Christ.
Take a look at the four Gospel narratives that have, since the first days of the Christian Church, formed the skeleton of the Church Year and the rhythm, the seasons of our Christian life.
Saint Matthew does not begin with Joseph talking to the innkeeper. Saint Mark does not begin his Gospel narrative with Mary's water breaking. Saint Luke does not begin his account with the cold and clear blue of Bethlehem's night sky and the star that guided magi to the manger. Saint John does not begin the revelation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ by documenting the angel's visit to shepherds who search for a new-born wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.
The Evangelists begin at the very beginning: a time of waiting and anticipation and hope as God himself begins the countdown toward the fulfillment of all salvation history in the coming of the promised one, the one foretold by angels, the one who's name was given by heaven itself, the one received by some, rejected by many: John the Baptist - the forerunner of Christ.
This afternoon/evening, we hear the beginning before the beginning from Saint Luke, who doesn't even begin talking about Jesus by talking about John the Baptist, but by taking another step back and recounting the circumstances that led up to John the Baptist's birth.
It is Saint Luke that tells us that Zechariah and Elizabeth were, by God's mercy and grace, believing children of Israel, who put their faith in the Word of God — through Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms; believing people who looked forward in hope to the day God would remember his people and the covenant he had sworn to them — to come and redeem and deliver them from an enemy even greater than evil Pharaoh in Egypt. But Zechariah and Elizabeth had no child. "For [as Saint Luke writes,] Elizabeth was barren and both were advanced in years." (Luke 1:7 ESV)
For all intents and purposes, the door had been shut, bolted and locked on any possibility that they would ever enjoy the precious gift of a child. They struggled with their own human disappointment and frustration. They had placed themselves under the good and gracious Word of the Lord, they had received God's promises in the Messiah to come, but — in spite of their hope in God's deliverance, they had no child. God had not visited them with the gift of new life.
But as they continued to hope in the midst of hopelessness, as they continued to put their faith in the mercy of God despite all their worry and doubt, despite the temptations to abandon the Word of the Lord, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob came and drew Zechariah to his holy Temple. He brought Zechariah to himself and the altar of his mercy. Through the mouthpiece of his holy angel, God announced that fear would give way to God-given trust. The burden of barrenness would be exchanged for the gift of new life. Elizabeth would surely bear a son, and his name would be "John," meaning, "The Lord has been gracious."
And so, for more than fifteen hundred years, God's struggling, frustrated, waiting people — languishing in a barren world of sin and longing for new life — have, in faith, placed themselves under the promises given to Elizabeth and Zechariah.
And the angel said to him, "Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great before the Lord. ... and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's womb. And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared." (Luke 1:13-17 ESV)
Our Lord, through his messenger, the angel, announced to Zechariah the job description of Christ's forerunner, John. Called to a ministry that will complete the preparations made through all the Old Testament prophets, John will be used by God to "make ready for the Lord a people prepared — for the Lord's own coming." (Luke 1:17 ESV)
Through his holy angel, heaven announces to our old, unbelieving nature that there will be no advent of the Savior before the advent of Elijah in the person and work of John the Baptist. John must first do his God-given work, and then, when that work is accomplished, the Messiah will come and forgive and rescue and save.
And despite the fact that John the Baptist is given such little notice in our own Christmas preparations — his voice today continues to "make ready for the Lord a people prepared — for the Lord's own coming." (Luke 1:17 ESV)
We learn from Scripture that as Christians, we have nothing to say to God (or to our neighbor) concerning our redemption until God speaks a word to us — through his inspired messengers. And this afternoon / tonight we take time to hear the inspired words from Zechariah.
From a man who's mouth was shut and his tongue tied by his own doubt and sin and unbelief, we hear words of renewed faith and heartfelt joy. For Zechariah's faith in the coming Messiah — the same faith that was even then evident in his new-born son — gave way not only to a spoken confession of faith, but a heavenly song.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the first chapter:

And his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied, saying,
“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has visited and redeemed his people
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we should be saved from our enemies
and from the hand of all who hate us;
to show the mercy promised to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our father Abraham, to grant us
that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
might serve him without fear,
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
in the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the tender mercy of our God,
whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.” (Luke 1:67-79 ESV)

This song of Zechariah is the first of three inspired songs given to the Christian Church and each of us to sing in repentant joy and faith as we look forward to Christmas Day. Today we join Zechariah in blessing the Lord God of Israel for the holy, one-way covenant he made before Abraham and Moses and David. This gracious promise to send the Deliverer — the very Word of God made human flesh — is the center of Zechariah's Song as it is the center of our song to God and to each other. This is the covenant announced by the Lord as he promised the Seed of the Woman to Adam and Eve as he sacrificed an animal in order to cover their shame. This is the covenant announced to Abraham as the Lord "cut" his covenant in the sacrifice of a heifer, goat and ram. This is the covenant announced as John the Baptist was circumcised on the eighth day, the first day of a new week, the first day of a new creation.
This is the covenant announced at a table in the upper room, on the night when our Lord was betrayed — the very night that led to the Messiah's sacrificial death and the securing of our deliverance from the hand of our enemies: sin, death and the power of the devil.
The presence of John the Baptist will give way to the presence of our Lord as he comes to establish salvation to all who would believe. "He must increase, and I must decrease." John says. But for now, as we wait for the final coming of our Bridegroom, as we patiently wait for the final rising of heaven's sun, we join Zechariah in blessing the Lord — in word and in song.
God grant us the faith to "start at the very beginning" — to sing back to him what he has first revealed to us through his servants Zechariah and John the Baptist. May the Benedictus also be found on our lips this season of preparation as God comes in his Word and gives us a new heart and a new hope and a new song.
A blessed advent-tide to each of you in the Name of the Coming Christ.

Sheep do as Sheep are. Matthew 25:31-46

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Dear Brothers — Disciples — in Christ, the Righteous Judge:

With this week, the Christian Church closes the book on an entire year focused on our Lord and his gracious promises and the gift of salvation freely given to us as revealed in the Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew. A year ago we heard of Jesus' first discourse to his own brothers — his disciples — in the words of the Beatitudes. And this morning we hear from Jesus the last discourse to the Twelve and to us as he winds up his public ministry with an increasingly clear announcement of what lies ahead for his own and for the world. The Seven Woes of chapter 23, followed by the signs of the last days and the command to keep watch in chapter 24, followed by the Parable of the Ten Virgins and the Parable of the Talents.
And now, everything our Lord Christ has announced to his followers comes to it's completion, it's zenith, it's conclusion, with verse 31 and following:

[Jesus said,] “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’
“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” (Matthew 25:31-48 ESV)

At first hearing, that's a difficult section of Scripture to respond to with the words, "Thanks be to God." But like any other Word of the Lord, Christ is doing two things as he reveals something much more real and impending than a simple story about shepherds separating farm animals. He is giving nothing but condemnation to those who are shown void of what Christ-created and sustained faith produces: care for those in need; true care for those deemed insignificant by the world and our own sinful nature: the least of those Christ calls his brothers.
But Christ also gives the most comforting promise of grace and hope to all who have put their trust in the Lamb who once was slain and in his righteousness, his innocence, his blessedness.
Through these words, our Lord announces that all things have been given to him by his Father. As the Son of Man — the Messiah foretold by the prophets — Christ will, by his all-powerful Word, raise the dead and gather all peoples before him as he sits upon his judgment throne.
Once he came with his glory hidden, to be born, to live, to suffer and die as one of us, to take our sins upon his sinless body and make atonement for all in the giving of his own life-blood.
But with the words, "It is complete. It is fulfilled. The debt has been paid in full," Christ-given faith begins to see that hidden, saving glory — in the Cross, in the Scriptures, in Holy Baptism, in the Holy Supper.
That is our faith as we confess with the whole Christian Church on earth: I believe in Jesus Christ, who will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead; whose kingdom will have no end."
This is our faith as we confess in the words of the Athanasian Creed: I believe in Jesus Christ ... At whose coming all men will rise again with their bodies and will give an account of their own works. And they that have done good will go into life everlasting; and they that have done evil, into everlasting fire.
The glorious Son of Man, before whom no unholiness can survive, will, on the last day, raise and gather all of humanity in order to separate each person into one of only two groups. No third, miscellaneous category. No third, "I don't really know what to do with this one" group.
Simply sheep and goats — and the sheep are placed on his favored side, on the side of honor, on his right.
As a shepherd separates at the end of the day those animals who have grazed together in the same field, as the farmer separates the wheat from the tares at harvest time, as the fisherman separates the good fish from the bad fish after gathering them all in his net, as the master of the house, upon his return, separates the profitable from the wicked servants, so the Son of Man will come in his glory to gather in order to separate what is judged holy from what is judged unholy, what is judged righteous from what is judged unrighteous, what is judged blessed from what is judged as cursed.
As the sheep and goats are ushered by the shepherd into two separate quarters at the end of the day, so it will be for Adam and Eve and all their children.
And to the favored sheep on his right he will say, "Come, blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundations of the world."
Christ's precious sheep will be announced as gracious, undeserving heirs of the kingdom all of history has waited to be revealed, a kingdom cleansed from sin and doubt and rebellion and suffering and pain and death, a kingdom in which we will be released from the burden of an old nature that can do nothing but sin and grumble and attempt to work its way into God's good graces.
For Christ there will be no surprises, but for all those gathered, the judgment received will not be the kind of judgment expected.
More than a few will come before the King expecting praise for all the good they have achieved, for all the good they have manufactured, for all the accolades given to them by the world, for all that their heart told them would earn heaven and open it's glorious gates.
But they would have nothing to do with a King of the Cross, a Redeemer whose glory was hidden to all but God-given faith, a Savior who would freely clothe all undeserving sinners with his spotless robe of righteousness. And because they did not recognize Christ and the hidden glory of his Word and his Baptism and his Supper, they failed to see him in Christ's lowly and needy brothers.
In these days, we are tempted to look for a glorious Christ, that we might earn a favored place by his side through our own great and glorious works.
But the surprising thing is not that some will be revealed as goats on the last day. Salvation must remain a free gift that can be either received by faith or rejected in unbelief and rebellion. The surprising thing is that there are any of us who are judged righteous and blessed.
Scripture and Christ, the hymns we sing and the Catechism we learn — announce with one voice that we are the spiritually starving, wandering, naked, enslaved — sick unto death in our sin.
We were the needy ones that had no great or lasting importance — and Christ came and fed and clothed and visited us with his love and care, his grace and mercy, his very self.
To all who look to their own nature, their own spiritual poverty, their own sinfulness, their own inability to keep the Beatitudes — their own inability to produce any kind of righteousness of their own — Jesus comes to offer the gift of a righteous robe, a washing of regeneration, an undeserved place in heaven, a faith that gives us the ability to see Christ in the least of his brothers, in the least of fellow disciples and followers.
As we approach that great and fearful day, let us not fear but continue to keep our eyes on Christ and his righteousness — his righteousness that has made us his precious sheep, his righteousness that has made us blessed, his righteousness that gives us the ability to care for even the lowliest of Christ's own with a care that has no concern of earning God's favor.
God, in his abundant grace, increase our faith, that we might keep awake and watchful in these last days, and serve him — not by doing something glorious for his kingdom, but by simply allowing Christ to be our Shepherd, to work the works of faith through us, his undeserving sheep.
May Christ give us the hope and strength to look forward to the day when Christ will come in all his glory with his angels to declare his judgment upon all he has clothed in the redeeming fruits of his cross.
In faith, may we say today and always, "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly, and clothe us in the robe of the Lamb."

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

The Blessed Ones and the Blessed One

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Beloved Saints in Christ:
Today, a week after Reformation Sunday, the Christian Church commemorates her saints. That can be more than a little confusing for those who believe Martin Luther's great contribution to Christianity was ridding sanctuaries of statues and paintings and stain glass windows depicting believers who have been called to the Church triumphant.
But, contrary to what some may believe, there is no inconsistency between observing the Lutheran Reformation — the rediscovery of the true Gospel of God's grace and forgiveness in the substitutionary sacrifice Christ Jesus — and observing the commemoration of the saints — those who have received by true faith the true Gospel of God's grace in Christ.
God always means for the two to go together: the bright beams of the Gospel — and the fruits of that saving Light in the minds and hearts of the faithful that constitute the Church — Militant (Christ's children on earth) and Triumphant (Christ's children now in heaven).
God in his mercy gave us the one saving gift of his Son upon the Cross — and with that redeeming gift comes all others, including the gift of the saints.
And how many individuals came up to you Friday and wished you a blessed Reformation Day? How many did you wish a blessed Reformation Day to, only to receive a blank stare back?
And so it is with a proper understanding of All Saint's Day. The world knows of Hallow's Eve, but knows nothing of the true reason to bow the knee and give thanks to the Triune God for all those our Creator and Redeemer properly considers his own dear saints.
For example, ask your neighbor the significance of the first of November — and more likely than not you'll get the answer: it's the day after Halloween. The day to pick up the discarded candy wrappers in the front lawn. It's the day to take the rented costumes back to the store and put the "cobwebs in a can" and the squeeze bottle of fake blood back in the box until next year.
But what of the saints? The hallowed of All Hallow's Eve? Does our world (and our old nature) commemorate saints? Well, yes, but in it's own worldly way.
You see, the world's saints are marked by behavior thought to earn the title "saint" or "holy" or "pious" or "moral." If you're shooting for sainthood you can't kick the dog or be a disappointment to those who know you best. If you want to make the grade you have to prove yourself worthy of the title "saint." No investing in tobacco or oil companies. No problems at work or at home or with the neighbors. To be a saint, you need to present yourself to everyone around you in a way that will make them compelled to confess, "She's a saint." "He's a saint."
The requirements are grueling if you desire to be the world's saint. You have to stand out from the crowd with your saintliness, with your holy living. The competition is so ruthless the Roman Catholic Church now requires three miracles by the candidate — performed after his or her death.
But what of us here this morning? What of us here who have given up long ago on impressing the world or our relatives or boss or neighbors that we're on our way to earning our halo and becoming a saint in the eyes of the world? What of us who just struggle to get through the day without saying something stupid or hurtful — or neglecting those we have been called to serve with our time and care and resources? What of us who have our hands full trying to curb our own pride and self-centered concerns, that our Lord and his Word and love of God and neighbor would follow? What does commemorating the saints have to do with us who are so spiritually challenged — so morally disabled — so crippled and debilitated with temptation and sin and excuse-making?
We might, on a good day, be able to fool those around us, to produce in our neighbor some applause or accolades for our saintly behavior, but everything comes to a dead end when we realize that before God, everything is seen as it really is, for God looks at the heart. God looks at our fallen heart and sees even in our desire to be saintly the stain of sin and the hunger to be rewarded for what we believe we have made ourselves into.
But as we hear the clear words of the Beatitudes that come from our Lord before his disciples, a part of us cried out with the recognition that the moat he constructs is too wide and deep to cross, and the wall is too smooth and high to get over.

[Jesus] opened his mouth and taught them, saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. (Matthew 5:2-8 ESV)

How could Christ come and announce such an impossible standard for those who's simple desire was to become God-pleasing saints? How could he take the measuring stick of the Ten Commandments and not only affirm them but show them to be a thousand times more impossible for any of us to master?
How can a loving, merciful, forgiving Savior announce such standards that are beyond our grasp, even for an hour or a day? Why did he have to shut and bolt and weld the door shut on my attempts to attain holiness and sainthood — and with it the reward of heaven?
Couldn't Jesus simply overlook the demand for complete obedience under the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes? Couldn't God just look the other way and measure my life only according to my outward behavior — when I'm in public? Why does everything I say and do and think, why does everything I have done and failed to do have to factor into the Almighty's decision when it comes to granting me the title "saint"?
King David himself may have been wrestling with the same impossibilities of attaining sainthood when he wrote the psalm quoted in this morning's introit — Psalm 31. In repentance, aware of his own sinful hopelessness, he is given the gift to accept the fulfillment and end of Moses and the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes as he cries out:

In you, O LORD, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me!
Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily!
Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me!
For you are my rock and my fortress; and for your name’s sake you lead me and guide me; ... .

Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God. (Psalm 31:1-3, 5 ESV)

We are God's dear, holy saints in the same way we are God's dear, holy Church. Not because we have attained or earned or deserve it. Not because we have sincerely tried or somehow desired to make it our own.
We are God's saints because Christ has won that title for each of us. It was Christ whom God judged by both his public behavior and his private thoughts. It was Christ who was laid in the balance and proclaimed without spot or blemish. Christ is the holy one, the saintly one, the dear one before God on his almighty throne.
And in winning that title "saint" with his perfect life, our Lord Christ bestows it on all who will look to him in faith as their only righteousness and blessedness and holiness.
If there are any here this day who have fallen for the temptation to believe that the title "saint" and the status of being God's own dear child is for sale, that it can be earned by outward behavior the world labels good and perfect, then turn and look to the holy and perfect Law of God and then look to your own heart. Repent and confess the reality of your fallen human condition and God's revelation that only One has earned righteous before God. Salvation belongs to him alone.
Christ has taken upon himself your failure and sin and inability to keep God's righteous Law. He has taken it and made atonement for it. And in your Baptism, you have been given that white robe that makes you God's dear, precious, holy saint. Clothed in Christ you have been declared blessed, sanctified, hallowed, God-pleasing, perfect and pure.
In repentant joy, come to his table, clothed in faith and in the wedding garment of the Lamb who knew no sin, yet was made sin for us. Feed from his pierced hands and hear again the word of his heavenly Father this day:
"Trusting in my Son and his Cross, I declare you my dear child and saint."

A blessed All Saints Day to you in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

The Broadcasting of the Word - Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

It was the Lutheran theologian Martin Franzmann who determined to celebrate the 125th anniversary of Concordia Theological Seminary in Springfield, Illinois in 1971 by writing the words of a new hymn that focused on the Spirit-inspired intent of the Parable of the Sower. Franzmann, the author of another great hymn we in this congregation are all very familiar with — "Thy Strong Word" — calls the entire Christian Church — pastors and teachers, elders, deacons and deaconesses, Sunday School instructors and preschool teachers — each one of us in our various vocations — to be faithful to the one directive given to us by God in Christ through the Holy Spirit.
And in an age where more and more congregations forget or neglect or reject their Christ-given calling, trading in ministry done to garner a heavenly harvest for a ministry that will garner the applause of the world, Franzmann's words continue to ring out as a clarion call. A call that we would repent of the sin of attempting to limit and re-define and re-invent the mysterious, unexpected, two-fold reign of God as revealed by the prophets and apostles.
In a time and place where the religiously fashionable take information obtained from credit card companies in order to determine which ethnic group or which economic strata or which newly-sprouted suburb is appropriate soil for their future Christian ministry, the Parable of the Sower needs to be heard anew.
In a time and place where those who are judged to be religiously successful prey on those pastors and congregations struggling with finances and membership by selling books at weekend workshops that promise to disclose their magic formula of testing the soil to guarantee increased numbers in the pews and offering plates, the Parable of the Sower needs to be heard anew.
In a time and place where even Lutheran church leaders are constantly tempted to trade in the family inheritance for the porridge bowl of a beautifully packaged, guaranteed-to-succeed growth program, the Parable of the Sower — and Franzmann's insightful reflection of it — is increasingly needed.
We live at at time when even life-long Christians are trading in the clear Word of Scripture and faithful confessions of it for more enticing interpretations of the Bible that actually put our old nature back into the driver's seat, assuring us that we have, through our own human calculations, harnessed heaven's salvation and manipulated it to sprout and grow and multiply when and where and how we think best.
But what does our Lord reveal in this parable? What divine reality does Franzmann so accurately reflect in the first stanza of his hymn?

1. Preach you the Word and plant it home / To men who like or like it not,
The Word that shall endure and stand / When flow'rs and men shall be forgot.

When our Lord gave to his Church the Parable of the Sower, he gave it as a revelation of how his two-fold heavenly reign is breaking into our fallen, self-centered, self-consumed world.
Despite all that you will hear from the self-proclaimed "experts" of Scripture and the hidden meanings they believe only they can discern in the sacred text, the Parable of the Sower is not all about how we make ourselves the good soil or how we can determine if others have made themselves good enough soil to merit our effort to plant the Word of God in them.
We are called to preach, to announce, to offer, to broadcast the Word of God — Law and Gospel — to all, as God gives us opportunity. It is a sin and a stumbling block to put ourselves in the position of deciding with whom we will share the Word of God — and to whom we will not. For, as Franzmann reminds us, the Word will remain after all the programs and policies and powers of church agencies will have been discarded and forever forgotten.
The Christian Church has not been called to invent some new slick and market-tested forty day program that makes thorn-infested, hard-hearted people into nutrient-rich soil for the Gospel. Like it or not, we — the Church — have been called to simply broadcast God's Word whenever, wherever possible — always leaving the results in the hands of the One who alone can bring forth life from a dead seed thrown upon dead soil.
For Christ, as announced to us in the Parable of the Sower, the critical event is not our making ourselves — or anyone else — good soil deserving of the fruits of divine blessing. We don't create the conditions for salvation and then ask God to come and put a little frosting and sugar sprinkles on our great redeeming work.
The parable this morning calls each of us and this congregation and the entire Christian Church on earth to do one thing: faithfully, clearly broadcast the eternal Word — God's Word — without any consideration of who deserves it or what we may or may not get out of it.
The prime directive: faithfully broadcast the Word of God to all God places in our lives — without consideration or calculation. Not an easy thing to do for any one of us, as Franzmann writes in the second verse:

2. We know how hard, O Lord, the task / Your servant bade us undertake:
To preach Your Word and never ask / What prideful profit it may make.

This parable does not center around our self-wraught metamorphosis into good soil. This Parable does not center on the often-preached question: "So, what soil have you made yourself into?"
This parable of our Lord centers, instead, around the sower, the way in which he sows and the God-wraught results. And how can we be sure of that? The 18th verse gives us the name of this morning's parable, and it is the name given by our Lord himself. The theme of Jesus' presentation of the Kingdom of Heaven — his presentation of the reign of heaven — throughout this entire 13th chapter of Matthew, is simply a presentation of how Christ's reign comes and how it will all turn out.
The sowing of the saving reign of our Lord is not only the proper subject of this parable, but the proper subject of the Christian Church and this congregation. Everything revolves around his sowing and his reaping, as he comes in the most ordinary-looking ways to accomplish the most un-ordinary things in us and among us.
This morning Franzmann calls us to, before all else, ask forgiveness for those times we have discrimanently sowed the seed of God's Word for our own ends and our own rewards.
The calling to abundantly, generously, graciously, indiscrimanantly sow is not only difficult, but simply impossible without Christ's forgiveness and grace to just stick to the faithful preaching of the Word to any and to all — and then let things fall where they may.
God grant the courage and faith to do what he has called us to do, no more and no less.
Franzmann continues:

3. The sower sows; his reckless love / Scatters abroad the goodly seed,
Intent alone that all may have / The wholesome loaves that all men need.

How does the sower sow? With calculated precision so that only the deserving will receive his freely sent gift? Is the saving Kingdom of God to be directed only to those we determine to be God's elect? To those we determine posess a "better-than-average" chance of producing abundant fruit?
The entire Gospel of Matthew stands as a testament to the abundant, generous, reckless, gracious, almost thoughtless way Christ through his disciples — his Church — sends out the Word of God. It is in Matthew's inspired account we see Jesus scattering the goodly seed to the most seemingly undeserving of people - to the residents of Galilee of the Gentiles — and beyond. All this that his Father's will would be accomplished: that all would receive in faith the Word which, like the spring rains, falls to earth to renew and re-create a fallen world.
Only a gracious God would be so reckless to send his Word to all peoples and nations and languages and tribes, regardless of the inconsistent, seemingly unpredictable results. Only such a gracious God would be so reckless to send his Word — his Son — regardless of the inconsistent, seemingly unpredictable results. This is is his love for the world. This is his love for you — and each person God has called you to be a neighbor to.
This is the saving gift of God broadcast to all who would come and receive it in faith — at Sunday services, during Sunday School and Vacation Bible School, in adult classes, in the preschool, at community Christmas concerts and Summer outreach concerts. God sows his seed, and he sows it with divine grace and abandon.
The fourth stanza:

4. Though some be snatched and some be scorched / And some be choked and matted flat,
The sower sows; his heart cries out, / "Oh, what of that, and what of that?"

What is the one, true treasure of the one, holy, Christian and apostolic Church? Anyone? (If you say the Shroud of Turin, I'll resign as pastor of this congregation and become a Thrivent insurance salesman.)
Christ, his redemption as sacrifice upon the Cross for me and for the world, and the means by which he connects me with the benefits of his death and resurrection: the Scriptures, Holy Baptism and the Lord's Supper.
And when these divine gifts are broadcast by God's grace over a fallen and rebel world, some of that grace will not be received with God-created and God-sustained faith. You know that in your heart if you have ever given someone a gift — only to have it given back or abused or put up for auction the next week on eBay.
And our old nature responds: "I'll never give a gift of love again. I'll never do such a risky, potentially painful thing again. Enough with grace and gifts and being vulnerable to pain and hurt and rejection."
You see, the fallen world and our fallen nature take offense at the way Christ's reign comes. It comes in the most gracious of ways, in the most hidden of ways — in a way seen and taken to heart only by faith.
Salvation is discuoraging and dis-heartening, yet our Lord is a reckless Savior, risking everything that all might be offered the gift of salvation.
Stanza five:

5. Of all his scattered plenteousness / One-fourth waves ripe on hill and flat,
And bears a harvest hundredfold: / "Ah, what of that, Lord, what of that!"

In the midst of the crushed and choked out and snatched and scorched seed there remains God-pleasing results. The amazement that so much of the seed seems wasted and rejected by the soil is, at the end of the day and at the end of our life and at the end of this age, overtaken by the amazement that so much fruit has been produced — but — as the Catechism says, when and where God wills.
The shock and heart-ache felt for those who repeatedly refuse to receive the Word of God — in, with, and under the prophets and apostles; the Word in, with and under water; the Word in, with and under bread and wine, is ultimately overtaken by the shock of seeing the hundred-fold harvest in heaven.
Our Lord calls us to simply trust that he continues to preserve a remnant of his believing people, a remnant through which his Word will accomplish all that he has sent it out to do.
And the final verse:

6. Preach you the Word and plant it home / And never faint; the Harvest Lord
Who gave the sower seed to sow / Will watch and tend his planted Word.

As Christ's disciple, you are called to trust in the most unlikely of things: the reign of God breaking into this world by the gracious, reckless preaching of God's eternal Word. As Christ's Church, we are called not to loose heart but keep and treasure the Gospel by sending it out "to those who like or like it not."
Christ has been called by his heavenly Father to be the gracious, forgiving, loving, reckless Sower. And what does the Sower do? He mercifully, tirelessly, caringly, abundantly sows his seed. And his disciples are called to faithfully, trustingly follow.
God grant it for Jesus' sake. Amen