In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters Rescued and Redeemed by Christ:
A few Sundays ago we pulled out all the stops as we celebrated our history as the church of the Lutheran Reformation. We gloried in our heritage as children of a movement within the western church that re-discovered what the real glory of the church was, and continues to be: the glory of the grace of God revealed in Christ and his Cross and offered freely to a world that just can't bring itself to believe that salvation won is distributed with simple water, bread and wine.
But, as we heard last week, the time is later than we might think. The last Sundays of the Church Year call each of us to soberly assess the time and seasons of this age, and guided by Christ and his mighty Word, see with the eyes of faith who we were without him, what we have become in him, and what we have been called to glory in.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twenty-first chapter:
And while some were speaking of the temple, how it was adorned with noble stones and offerings, [Jesus] said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” (Luke 21:5-6 ESV)
Jesus shuts the mouths of disciples drooling over the golden glory of the Jerusalem Temple as he rescues them from being drawn into placing their faith in having a great Temple of stone and silver as their salvation. Like so many other signs given to prepare God's people for the real thing to later be revealed, what rightly pointed to its own fulfillment in Christ had become an idol, an ends unto itself, a talisman, a magic amulet that, by its very presence, guarantees heaven.
But before we too quickly jump onto the bash-those-who-should-have-known-better bandwagon, we must examine our own faulty motives and failings at recognizing the true Temple when he appears before us. Have we too passed by the Temple not made with human hands in a race to preserve what we have built for ourselves? Have we succumbed to the temptation that the light of the Church is our own human glory?
With these words our Lord exposes all empty and sinful trust in salvation based on anything other than his unmerited grace. He diagnoses the desire of our old nature to preserve our own religiosity and spiritual pride, that we might repent of our sins, and receive him as our eternal Temple and Priest and Deliverer.
Here, Jesus completes his ministry in Jerusalem in the same way he began it: pointing to himself as the true Redeemer who rescues all who, repenting of their sins, look to him for help.
Once upon a time there was a small and sleepy village nestled around the quiet, rolling hills and dunes of a cove that looked out on the ocean waves breaking onto the beach. The people of the little community enjoyed their carefree neighborhood gatherings and the glories of their seasonal festivals, the abundance of their village dinners and the little pleasures of their six meals a day.
The people of the village lived their "as comfortable as can be" lifestyle, devoting their spare time to new and interesting hobbies, and the preservation of their heritage as a well-to-do, yet modest society. They became more and more famous for the beauty of the cove and the rocks that jutted out just beyond the harbor. Artists would make special trips to come and paint and sketch the unique coastline and the gulls who would rest on the rock formations just outside the bay.
Everything seemed right with the world, until, one night, the entire village was awakened with the sound of driving wind and pounding rain and the distant cries of voices from children and adults they had never previously heard. By the illumination from lightning flashes in the distance they followed the pleas for help to the shore of the cove. Already large broken beams from a ship were beginning to wash up onto the beach.
"Help us!" cried a man who, suffering from a broken arm, was struggling to pull an unconscious woman out of the surf with his other hand. The heads of others could be seen farther out in the water, some crying for mercy, other silent.
The people of the village were immobilized by the shock and fear of what they saw before them, a great ship ravaged by the rocks and its human cargo in danger of quickly perishing. And then they were even more dumbfounded by the strange appearance of a man who instinctively risked everything to rally the villagers as he pressed ahead to deliver the helpless from the dark and raging waters.
Some standing there were encouraged by the voice of this unnamed rescuer and engaged the surf. Some swam out to retrieve the injured, others brought out their frail fishing boats to venture out into the stormy waves.
Many were rescued, some we lost — from the ship and from the village, but the sleepy town was not the same after that night. They pleaded for the man to stay in the village as long as he was able, to lead cottage meetings to plan a lighthouse that would warn incoming vessels of the dangers just outside the harbor. Teams were formed that began construction on solid rescue boats and the training of the younger adults on how to row out and rescue wounded and drowning victims. Older adults constructed a make-shift hut for conducting drills and crafting rescue gear and for the shelter and care of the injured survivors. While some of the villagers went back to their comfortable and predictable life after a few months, many continued to trust in this sojourner who brought with his words a new ability to serve under him in the care of others.
But time went on and the words of the sojourner were taken less and less to heart. The hut was replaced by a more permanent and elegant building. Rain and rescue gear slowly became more ceremonial than practical. The charts detailing the procedures and priorities for rescuing those in peril were slowly replaced with gilded frames and photos of the glories of the past. Older rescue workers began flaunting their medals as their stories of that first fateful night became more and more fanciful. The lighthouse was attended to less and less, until the town couldn't remember how to keep the beacon lit.
The true mission of the rescue station was all but forgotten and although the village continued its rescue festivals and extravagant reenactments of that historic night, their love for the lost and preparations for the injured was shameful the next time they were suddenly called on to respond to those whose very lives were hanging in the balance.
The field hospital became, after only a few years, a museum and social hall; and those the sojourner had trained to be medics slowly fell into the practice of merely giving speeches at Sunday brunches and guest appearances as callers at square dances.
The visible Christian Church today often looks more like the Church of Rome before the Reformation: more a religious performing arts center than a place where people are called to receive spiritual rescue and healing and wholeness for their souls from the one, true Savior and divine Deliverer.
In the days of the Prophets, in the days of Jesus, in these last days, generations who were rescued from the cold and deadly waters of believing that salvation was to be earned by good works; generations who were graciously spared from drowning in the empty promises of the world's religions; generations who were graciously brought to the Great Physician and healed by nail-pierced hands and a heart of mercy and forgiveness have succumbed to the temptations of trading in their calling and faith for a chance at being included in a village parade or making it on the six o'clock news.
Christ has come and won salvation for not only our little village but for all who are being pulled to the bottom of the watery depths of sin and eternal death.
Our sin is the sin of every village which has been graced with the presence of the Carpenter's Son from Nazareth: we are found to have fallen for the temptation of preserving our own prestige and the importance of what we have built with our hands while neglecting the one thing that defines us and redeems us and preserves us to eternal life: the Word and Work of Christ in our place.
May the God of Noah and his children rescue us from the temptation of believing we have been called to preserve our own name and comforts, that we, by his grace, might serve our Savior as he delivers those who are sinking into the icy depths of spiritual despair by his strong arm and redeeming voice — by his Word and font and table.
God have mercy on us, forgive us and preserve among us the one thing that will not pass away on the Last Day — the one object of true, saving faith — Christ our glory; Christ our temple; Christ our light; Christ our rescue and reward.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
"The Eleventh Hour." Luke 20:27-40
In the Name of Jesus
Dearly beloved, baptized into the very resurrection of Christ our Bridegroom:
It is the eleventh hour. On this Lord's Day, the eleventh of November, God gathers his own to speak his name over us, to assure us that in Baptism our sin has been drowned in the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son and — that by his grace — a new nature has been created by his Word and Spirit. By faith in the promises of Christ our Redeemer, we are God's own dear children, even in these last days, these last hours before he sends his Son in all glory to end this age of separation and suffering, this age of war and rumor of war, this age of a world gone terribly, terribly bad and a humanity that will do nothing but interrogate Christ and refuse to believe his unexpected way of saving us.
And so it is appropriate on this, the third-last Sunday of the Church Year that we hear and read and take to heart the things of the last days, as we wait for the advent — the coming — the final appearance — of our salvation.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twentieth chapter:
There came to him some Sadducees (those who deny that there is a resurrection) and they asked him a question, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, having a wife but no children, the man must take the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. Now there were seven brothers. The first took a wife, and died without children. And the second and the third took her, and likewise all seven left no children and died. Afterward the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had her as wife.” (Luke 20:27-33 ESV)
The occasion: the last days of Jesus' public ministry. The place: the temple grounds in the holy city of Jerusalem. The participants: the Pharisees and Jesus' disciples listening in as the Saducees have their turn at gathering evidence to later be used against this self-proclaimed prophet from Nazareth.
The situation concocted by the Sadducees is almost comical in its improbability. One wife married eight times and widowed eight times, all without resulting children. "In the resurrection," the Saducees ask, "whose wife will she be?" This question from a group of religious leaders who openly denied belief in any resurrection from the dead; this question from a group of religious leaders who had no desire to be students of this tradition-breaking, crowd-pleasing miracle worker.
The battle lines are set as everyone waits to see if Jesus will say anything that can later be used to convict him of blasphemy against God, the holy prophet Moses and his five holy books.
What will Jesus say about the last things when it comes to marriage and children and family obligation to continue the family name? What will Jesus say about the last things of life and what awaits after death?
And Jesus said to them, “The sons of this [present] age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised — even Moses showed, in the passage about the bush, where he [says,] the Lord the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob. Now he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live [in] him.” Then some of the scribes answered, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” For they no longer dared to ask him any question. (Luke 20:34-40 ESV)
As is his custom, Jesus goes to the point of the matter, acknowledging himself as not only the Teacher of Israel but the last word when it comes to Moses and the inspired writings of Moses.
You see, Jesus accepts even from unbelieving Sadducees the title Rabbi, Teacher, and begins to teach all who would listen to him. Jesus teaches a clear word of Law to sinners who are unrepentant and rebellious and unbelieving, in order that he might then teach a clear word of Gospel (unmerited grace and undeserved gift) to sinners who have become broken and contrite and repentant.
"Marriage is a present-age shadow of something that will be fulfilled at the end of this age," Jesus is saying. "It is a lesser institution that has something greater, something heavenly as its fulfillment. Marriage and the demands of marital obligations are for the fallen sons and daughters of a fallen world. The demands to continue the family line are for the wilderness journey of this life outside the gates of paradise — this life continually threatened by rebellion against God's Word and the forging of idols to receive the devotion and allegiance reserved for God alone. Marriage will give way on the last day to what it has actually pointed to all along," Jesus declares.
Here Jesus shows that he is Lord of the Old Testament prophets and even the Spirit-inspired Word of the Old Testament prophets. For Saducees who feebly attempt to judge Jesus by Moses, Jesus has something to say, something definite, something that will shut mouths, something said with an authority greater than even great Moses. Here Jesus says the last word on last things and their relationship to marriage and the future of family and the outcome of everything dying and fading away.
Our Lord announces something we should have realized a long time ago: the institution of marriage is a temporary marker, a road sign, a pointer that will, finally, give way to the eternal thing it points to, its fulfillment, its perfection, its terminus — its consummation. This biblical understanding is echoed at every wedding performed in this sanctuary as the pastor announces at the beginning of the ceremony:
We are gathered here in the sight of God and of his Church to witness and to bless the joining together of this man and this woman in holy marriage. This is an honorable estate, which God himself has instituted and blessed, and by which he gives a picture [a foreshadowing] of the very communion of Christ and his bride, the Church. (Lutheran Worship Agenda 120)
The last word on marriage is the last day consummation of the wedding of the crucified, risen and ascended Lord and his bride the Church. The obligations and demands and laws and impositions of extending and continuing the family name find their completion in the vow of our Bridegroom.
For you see, even though God has demanded that we provide a son to continue the family name, we are powerless to carry out our duty. Born with weak intentions and the complete inability to carry out God's holy and perfect will, we cannot provide a son to continue the family line, to continue our legacy, to continue our life in this world, not to mention the next. Outside of Christ, we find ourselves spiritually impotent and barren and under the crushing verdict of a divine Law that declares: "Only those who are found righteous will be worthy of the title "Child of the Resurrection," "Child of God."
It is the only-begotten Son of God and Mary's son who knows the slavery of our sin in the same way that he knew the slavery of his children under the crushing hand of Pharaoh. For those who could not rescue themselves, for those who were bound to the deadly consequences of their sin, Christ came and, through his servant Moses, spoke a word, and pointing to his sacrifice and the shedding of his blood, delivered his people that they might be his bride, washed in his righteousness and cleansed for the eternal marriage feast.
To all who refuse to believe in the possibility of a resurrection of those declared righteous before almighty God, to all who have given up on climbing a self-constructed ladder into the eternal wedding chamber, to all who have been driven to despair of extending the family line of our first parents, to all who haven't a shred of righteousness of their own that the family name might be redeemed, Our Lord Christ has a gracious invitation, a word of sweetest comfort, a promise that seems too gracious to be true.
He is the messenger that speaks salvation to Moses from the burning bush. He is the Bridegroom who will buy back his enslaved bride with his sacrificial death and resurrection from the dead. He will be for you and me Righteousness and Life and the final Word at the end of this age — on the last day when he will take us, and all who have put their trust in him, to himself.
It is the eleventh hour. And Christ's coming is as sure as his coming at Bethlehem, his coming at your Baptism, his coming in the Word of the prophets and apostles, his coming at his holy Table, the foretaste of the wedding feast to come.
God in Christ through the Holy Spirit has placed his redeeming name upon you. He has sealed you as his child and heir. You are his and he is yours. And he will, on the last day, take you to himself.
God grant us the faith to believe in Christ as our Resurrection and our Life, as we say with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, "Amen. Even so, come Lord Jesus, come, and raise us to eternal life."
Dearly beloved, baptized into the very resurrection of Christ our Bridegroom:
It is the eleventh hour. On this Lord's Day, the eleventh of November, God gathers his own to speak his name over us, to assure us that in Baptism our sin has been drowned in the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son and — that by his grace — a new nature has been created by his Word and Spirit. By faith in the promises of Christ our Redeemer, we are God's own dear children, even in these last days, these last hours before he sends his Son in all glory to end this age of separation and suffering, this age of war and rumor of war, this age of a world gone terribly, terribly bad and a humanity that will do nothing but interrogate Christ and refuse to believe his unexpected way of saving us.
And so it is appropriate on this, the third-last Sunday of the Church Year that we hear and read and take to heart the things of the last days, as we wait for the advent — the coming — the final appearance — of our salvation.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twentieth chapter:
There came to him some Sadducees (those who deny that there is a resurrection) and they asked him a question, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, having a wife but no children, the man must take the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. Now there were seven brothers. The first took a wife, and died without children. And the second and the third took her, and likewise all seven left no children and died. Afterward the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had her as wife.” (Luke 20:27-33 ESV)
The occasion: the last days of Jesus' public ministry. The place: the temple grounds in the holy city of Jerusalem. The participants: the Pharisees and Jesus' disciples listening in as the Saducees have their turn at gathering evidence to later be used against this self-proclaimed prophet from Nazareth.
The situation concocted by the Sadducees is almost comical in its improbability. One wife married eight times and widowed eight times, all without resulting children. "In the resurrection," the Saducees ask, "whose wife will she be?" This question from a group of religious leaders who openly denied belief in any resurrection from the dead; this question from a group of religious leaders who had no desire to be students of this tradition-breaking, crowd-pleasing miracle worker.
The battle lines are set as everyone waits to see if Jesus will say anything that can later be used to convict him of blasphemy against God, the holy prophet Moses and his five holy books.
What will Jesus say about the last things when it comes to marriage and children and family obligation to continue the family name? What will Jesus say about the last things of life and what awaits after death?
And Jesus said to them, “The sons of this [present] age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised — even Moses showed, in the passage about the bush, where he [says,] the Lord the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob. Now he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live [in] him.” Then some of the scribes answered, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” For they no longer dared to ask him any question. (Luke 20:34-40 ESV)
As is his custom, Jesus goes to the point of the matter, acknowledging himself as not only the Teacher of Israel but the last word when it comes to Moses and the inspired writings of Moses.
You see, Jesus accepts even from unbelieving Sadducees the title Rabbi, Teacher, and begins to teach all who would listen to him. Jesus teaches a clear word of Law to sinners who are unrepentant and rebellious and unbelieving, in order that he might then teach a clear word of Gospel (unmerited grace and undeserved gift) to sinners who have become broken and contrite and repentant.
"Marriage is a present-age shadow of something that will be fulfilled at the end of this age," Jesus is saying. "It is a lesser institution that has something greater, something heavenly as its fulfillment. Marriage and the demands of marital obligations are for the fallen sons and daughters of a fallen world. The demands to continue the family line are for the wilderness journey of this life outside the gates of paradise — this life continually threatened by rebellion against God's Word and the forging of idols to receive the devotion and allegiance reserved for God alone. Marriage will give way on the last day to what it has actually pointed to all along," Jesus declares.
Here Jesus shows that he is Lord of the Old Testament prophets and even the Spirit-inspired Word of the Old Testament prophets. For Saducees who feebly attempt to judge Jesus by Moses, Jesus has something to say, something definite, something that will shut mouths, something said with an authority greater than even great Moses. Here Jesus says the last word on last things and their relationship to marriage and the future of family and the outcome of everything dying and fading away.
Our Lord announces something we should have realized a long time ago: the institution of marriage is a temporary marker, a road sign, a pointer that will, finally, give way to the eternal thing it points to, its fulfillment, its perfection, its terminus — its consummation. This biblical understanding is echoed at every wedding performed in this sanctuary as the pastor announces at the beginning of the ceremony:
We are gathered here in the sight of God and of his Church to witness and to bless the joining together of this man and this woman in holy marriage. This is an honorable estate, which God himself has instituted and blessed, and by which he gives a picture [a foreshadowing] of the very communion of Christ and his bride, the Church. (Lutheran Worship Agenda 120)
The last word on marriage is the last day consummation of the wedding of the crucified, risen and ascended Lord and his bride the Church. The obligations and demands and laws and impositions of extending and continuing the family name find their completion in the vow of our Bridegroom.
For you see, even though God has demanded that we provide a son to continue the family name, we are powerless to carry out our duty. Born with weak intentions and the complete inability to carry out God's holy and perfect will, we cannot provide a son to continue the family line, to continue our legacy, to continue our life in this world, not to mention the next. Outside of Christ, we find ourselves spiritually impotent and barren and under the crushing verdict of a divine Law that declares: "Only those who are found righteous will be worthy of the title "Child of the Resurrection," "Child of God."
It is the only-begotten Son of God and Mary's son who knows the slavery of our sin in the same way that he knew the slavery of his children under the crushing hand of Pharaoh. For those who could not rescue themselves, for those who were bound to the deadly consequences of their sin, Christ came and, through his servant Moses, spoke a word, and pointing to his sacrifice and the shedding of his blood, delivered his people that they might be his bride, washed in his righteousness and cleansed for the eternal marriage feast.
To all who refuse to believe in the possibility of a resurrection of those declared righteous before almighty God, to all who have given up on climbing a self-constructed ladder into the eternal wedding chamber, to all who have been driven to despair of extending the family line of our first parents, to all who haven't a shred of righteousness of their own that the family name might be redeemed, Our Lord Christ has a gracious invitation, a word of sweetest comfort, a promise that seems too gracious to be true.
He is the messenger that speaks salvation to Moses from the burning bush. He is the Bridegroom who will buy back his enslaved bride with his sacrificial death and resurrection from the dead. He will be for you and me Righteousness and Life and the final Word at the end of this age — on the last day when he will take us, and all who have put their trust in him, to himself.
It is the eleventh hour. And Christ's coming is as sure as his coming at Bethlehem, his coming at your Baptism, his coming in the Word of the prophets and apostles, his coming at his holy Table, the foretaste of the wedding feast to come.
God in Christ through the Holy Spirit has placed his redeeming name upon you. He has sealed you as his child and heir. You are his and he is yours. And he will, on the last day, take you to himself.
God grant us the faith to believe in Christ as our Resurrection and our Life, as we say with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, "Amen. Even so, come Lord Jesus, come, and raise us to eternal life."
Monday, November 05, 2007
The Beatitudes - How Do You Read Them? Matthew 5:1-12 (All Saints Sunday)
The paraments have changed from the red of fire and the Spirit to the white of heaven's purity and brilliance. Eight days ago we celebrated God's grace evident in the reformation of the western Church and the re-discovery of the Gospel – the Gospel that proclaims the freely-offered gifts of Christ won upon the Cross, offered in the Word through prophets and apostles, the Word through water, the Word through bread and wine, and received by the empty hand of faith.
This Sunday is another special festival in the Church Year. Special prayers, special hymns, special Scripture readings that give opportunity to remember God's saints, honor God's saints, and, while giving thanks to God for preserving them, we again are assured that we too bear what the world thinks an unlikely title: God's blessed saint in Christ Jesus. This morning, as the hymn says:
We sing for all the unsung saints, / That countless, nameless throng,
Who kept the faith and passed it on / With hope steadfast and strong
Through all the daily griefs and joys / No chronicles record,
Forgetful of their lack of fame, / But mindful of their Lord.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters Made Saints in Christ:
Who are the saints? For those outside the church, the saints could be a number of people: Those who do good deeds, those who have never uttered a swear word when they stubbed their toe or slammed the car door on a finger. Those who always did what their parents and teachers told them to do.
And religious people have their answers too. The saints are those who enjoy a special relationship with God and are available to us to soften him up or make a request on our behalf. The saints are the super-Christians who effortlessly skated through life and racked up surplus merits that can be applied to erase the sins of others. Saints are those whose images are purchased to be hung on a wall or rear-view mirror in order to ward off tragedy or sickness.
But contrary to popular belief, God's true saints are not those who have a positive balance in their good works bank account in heaven. God's true saints are not those who have more than three documented miracles to their credit.
You see, the world, and the world's brand of religion is pretty stingy when it comes to making someone a saint. Not everyone is given that title by the world we live in. Only a handful get a bridge or an airport named after them.
But the God of the Old and New Testament, the God of the prophets of Israel and the apostles of the Church is a very different God than what the world, the devil or our old nature would believe. When it comes to bestowing the title of "saint," heaven sees things in a way we would have never imagined.
The Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew, the fifth chapter:
Seeing the crowds, [Jesus] went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he 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. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matthew 5:1-12)
These are the words that introduce Jesus' great sermon on the mount, the most quoted piece of Scripture in the writings of the early Christian church. These are the words that set the stage for a proper understanding of not only the fifth and sixth and seventh chapter of the Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew, but for a proper understanding of how salvation is truly won, offered, received and preserved among us. In short, these verses in the Gospel of Matthew serve as an entrance door for all who would bear the title "saint."
For this passage — commonly referred to as "the Beatitudes" — is not merely a jazzed-up version of the Ten Commandments. In the same way, the Jesus revealed to us — and to all who would be his disciples — is not merely a jazzed-up Moses laying down a set of even higher hoops for us to jump through in order to earn sainthood.
The world will never believe it, the devil will continue working hard to obscure and twist it, our old nature will daily doubt it, but these words of Jesus are something very different than "what we must do in order to become saints, blessed by God and rewarded by Christ and extolled by the world. These words are pure promise, pure grace, pure Gospel, a description of every single Christian who has received Christ and his benefits by faith.
You see, Moses went up on the mountain on behalf of a people who dared not approach God and receive his Word directly from his mouth. And if Mount Sinai and Moses and the Ten Commandments taught the children of Israel anything, they revealed that the climb up into God's presence was one that, since the fall in the garden, could only lead to false human pride and the deadly consequences of not being able to measure up to God's holy and perfect will. A fallen humanity could not carry out the good it had been called to do. A sinful and rebellious humanity could not even begin to be what it had been called to be: wholly-trusting recipients of God's abundant grace and eternal loving-kindness.
How do you read these "Beatitudes"? How do you understand this entrance door through which the whole of the Beatitudes — the whole of the Sermon on the Mount — is to be received? What is Jesus teaching and announcing here?
First and foremost, Jesus announces these words deliberatively and authoritatively. The crowds soon recognize that Jesus proclaims the Word with authority, even though the have not put their faith in him. "This Jesus speaks as one who has authority!" they exclaim. And so it is. Saint Matthew's Gospel account ends with Jesus confirming what we and the world secretly suspected all along, as he openly proclaims, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me."
But Jesus has been given power and authority to accomplish something very specific: to rule his dear flock in mercy and grace, securing our forgiveness and gifting all who would confess their sins with the title "Blessed," "Saint," "Redeemed."
Only in the Triune God does the Word announced carry with it what it promises, and this is how we must receive the words of the Beatitudes. Jesus is not encouraging us with these words. He is not telling his disciples — those who would follow their Lord in faith — and the crowds who are also listening in — "If you go around stopping fights, if you make yourself financially destitute, if you keep yourself from merry-making, if you let others beat you up, if you purify your heart, then I will reward you with the status of being blessed."
Jesus, in these Beatitudes is announcing something that takes our breath away and makes our old nature wag its head in disbelief and ridicule. Our Savior announces to his own that they are blessed — here and now — not according to what they have done or have not done, but by reason of their being — here and now — in Christ, in union with him, connected with him through the Spirit and the Word and the water of the entrance door into sainthood, into blessedness, into being a dear child of God through the one who has been given all authority to declare: because of my grace, because of my mercy, because of my forgiving heart, your sins are washed away. I have taken them, and, in exchange, I declare you blessed before my Father in heaven."
It is Christ and his Word that gives us the ability to see ourselves as spiritually poor, with nothing to offer him that would merit being a blessed saint of God. It is being in Christ that we first learn that we are — before God — simply poor, miserable, helpless, needy sinners.
And it is in Christ that we are the blessed, comforted, forgiven people of God, in spite of the fact that, in this world, we continue to hunger and thirst for our Lord's word of forgiveness, his feeding us with — of all things — himself.
In Christ, today, you are blessed. In him you have been given the kingdom of heaven. In the Lamb who once was slain you have not only been given the ability to mourn over your sins and the sins of the world, but you are comforted by the promise that the Cross of the great Redeemer is for you. In Jesus we confess our lowly condition before the throne of God, and in him we are blessed with the announcement that through Baptism we are heirs of the promised land.
In Christ, today, we hunger and thirst for the righteousness we could never produce, the perfect righteousness that only Jesus can win and cover us with. And as we confess in our Lord's "Our Father," Christ's mercy and forgiveness is so great that it spills over into the lives of our neighbor as we find ourselves reflecting the mercy we first were shown in forgiving even those who sin against us.
In Christ — this morning — you are blessed, you are God's blessed saint. Through God's Spirit and Word a new heart has been created within you, a heart that is pure and desires nothing more than to give glory to God and serve him by serving those around us. And through the blessed Sacrament, we are strengthened as Christ's saints — his priests, offering the world the eternal Word of peace: the Gospel of the glory and grace of God.
The blessed Beatitudes point to our blessed Savior and his blessed gifts, gifts for needy sinners, gifts for those brought to confess that they are poor, helpless, undeserving. Again, the hymn:
Though uninscribed with date or place, / With title, rank or name,
As living stones their stories join / To form a hallowed frame
Around the mystery in their midst: / The Lamb once sacrificed,
The Love that wrestles life from death, / The wounded, risen Christ.
In Christ you have been given promises that will be revealed and brought to their fulness on the Last Day. But — being found in Christ — being found in the Lamb — even now, you have been marked with the cross and given the status of God's dear saint, God's own blessed child.
Your name is not written on a calendar or a coin, your name is not written on a street or a postage stamp, a building or a boat. Your name is written in the Book of Life. Because of Christ, his sacrifice in your stead, his gift of water and bread and wine and faith, you are a sinner, declared righteous before God.
A blessed All Saints Day to you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
This Sunday is another special festival in the Church Year. Special prayers, special hymns, special Scripture readings that give opportunity to remember God's saints, honor God's saints, and, while giving thanks to God for preserving them, we again are assured that we too bear what the world thinks an unlikely title: God's blessed saint in Christ Jesus. This morning, as the hymn says:
We sing for all the unsung saints, / That countless, nameless throng,
Who kept the faith and passed it on / With hope steadfast and strong
Through all the daily griefs and joys / No chronicles record,
Forgetful of their lack of fame, / But mindful of their Lord.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters Made Saints in Christ:
Who are the saints? For those outside the church, the saints could be a number of people: Those who do good deeds, those who have never uttered a swear word when they stubbed their toe or slammed the car door on a finger. Those who always did what their parents and teachers told them to do.
And religious people have their answers too. The saints are those who enjoy a special relationship with God and are available to us to soften him up or make a request on our behalf. The saints are the super-Christians who effortlessly skated through life and racked up surplus merits that can be applied to erase the sins of others. Saints are those whose images are purchased to be hung on a wall or rear-view mirror in order to ward off tragedy or sickness.
But contrary to popular belief, God's true saints are not those who have a positive balance in their good works bank account in heaven. God's true saints are not those who have more than three documented miracles to their credit.
You see, the world, and the world's brand of religion is pretty stingy when it comes to making someone a saint. Not everyone is given that title by the world we live in. Only a handful get a bridge or an airport named after them.
But the God of the Old and New Testament, the God of the prophets of Israel and the apostles of the Church is a very different God than what the world, the devil or our old nature would believe. When it comes to bestowing the title of "saint," heaven sees things in a way we would have never imagined.
The Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew, the fifth chapter:
Seeing the crowds, [Jesus] went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he 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. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matthew 5:1-12)
These are the words that introduce Jesus' great sermon on the mount, the most quoted piece of Scripture in the writings of the early Christian church. These are the words that set the stage for a proper understanding of not only the fifth and sixth and seventh chapter of the Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew, but for a proper understanding of how salvation is truly won, offered, received and preserved among us. In short, these verses in the Gospel of Matthew serve as an entrance door for all who would bear the title "saint."
For this passage — commonly referred to as "the Beatitudes" — is not merely a jazzed-up version of the Ten Commandments. In the same way, the Jesus revealed to us — and to all who would be his disciples — is not merely a jazzed-up Moses laying down a set of even higher hoops for us to jump through in order to earn sainthood.
The world will never believe it, the devil will continue working hard to obscure and twist it, our old nature will daily doubt it, but these words of Jesus are something very different than "what we must do in order to become saints, blessed by God and rewarded by Christ and extolled by the world. These words are pure promise, pure grace, pure Gospel, a description of every single Christian who has received Christ and his benefits by faith.
You see, Moses went up on the mountain on behalf of a people who dared not approach God and receive his Word directly from his mouth. And if Mount Sinai and Moses and the Ten Commandments taught the children of Israel anything, they revealed that the climb up into God's presence was one that, since the fall in the garden, could only lead to false human pride and the deadly consequences of not being able to measure up to God's holy and perfect will. A fallen humanity could not carry out the good it had been called to do. A sinful and rebellious humanity could not even begin to be what it had been called to be: wholly-trusting recipients of God's abundant grace and eternal loving-kindness.
How do you read these "Beatitudes"? How do you understand this entrance door through which the whole of the Beatitudes — the whole of the Sermon on the Mount — is to be received? What is Jesus teaching and announcing here?
First and foremost, Jesus announces these words deliberatively and authoritatively. The crowds soon recognize that Jesus proclaims the Word with authority, even though the have not put their faith in him. "This Jesus speaks as one who has authority!" they exclaim. And so it is. Saint Matthew's Gospel account ends with Jesus confirming what we and the world secretly suspected all along, as he openly proclaims, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me."
But Jesus has been given power and authority to accomplish something very specific: to rule his dear flock in mercy and grace, securing our forgiveness and gifting all who would confess their sins with the title "Blessed," "Saint," "Redeemed."
Only in the Triune God does the Word announced carry with it what it promises, and this is how we must receive the words of the Beatitudes. Jesus is not encouraging us with these words. He is not telling his disciples — those who would follow their Lord in faith — and the crowds who are also listening in — "If you go around stopping fights, if you make yourself financially destitute, if you keep yourself from merry-making, if you let others beat you up, if you purify your heart, then I will reward you with the status of being blessed."
Jesus, in these Beatitudes is announcing something that takes our breath away and makes our old nature wag its head in disbelief and ridicule. Our Savior announces to his own that they are blessed — here and now — not according to what they have done or have not done, but by reason of their being — here and now — in Christ, in union with him, connected with him through the Spirit and the Word and the water of the entrance door into sainthood, into blessedness, into being a dear child of God through the one who has been given all authority to declare: because of my grace, because of my mercy, because of my forgiving heart, your sins are washed away. I have taken them, and, in exchange, I declare you blessed before my Father in heaven."
It is Christ and his Word that gives us the ability to see ourselves as spiritually poor, with nothing to offer him that would merit being a blessed saint of God. It is being in Christ that we first learn that we are — before God — simply poor, miserable, helpless, needy sinners.
And it is in Christ that we are the blessed, comforted, forgiven people of God, in spite of the fact that, in this world, we continue to hunger and thirst for our Lord's word of forgiveness, his feeding us with — of all things — himself.
In Christ, today, you are blessed. In him you have been given the kingdom of heaven. In the Lamb who once was slain you have not only been given the ability to mourn over your sins and the sins of the world, but you are comforted by the promise that the Cross of the great Redeemer is for you. In Jesus we confess our lowly condition before the throne of God, and in him we are blessed with the announcement that through Baptism we are heirs of the promised land.
In Christ, today, we hunger and thirst for the righteousness we could never produce, the perfect righteousness that only Jesus can win and cover us with. And as we confess in our Lord's "Our Father," Christ's mercy and forgiveness is so great that it spills over into the lives of our neighbor as we find ourselves reflecting the mercy we first were shown in forgiving even those who sin against us.
In Christ — this morning — you are blessed, you are God's blessed saint. Through God's Spirit and Word a new heart has been created within you, a heart that is pure and desires nothing more than to give glory to God and serve him by serving those around us. And through the blessed Sacrament, we are strengthened as Christ's saints — his priests, offering the world the eternal Word of peace: the Gospel of the glory and grace of God.
The blessed Beatitudes point to our blessed Savior and his blessed gifts, gifts for needy sinners, gifts for those brought to confess that they are poor, helpless, undeserving. Again, the hymn:
Though uninscribed with date or place, / With title, rank or name,
As living stones their stories join / To form a hallowed frame
Around the mystery in their midst: / The Lamb once sacrificed,
The Love that wrestles life from death, / The wounded, risen Christ.
In Christ you have been given promises that will be revealed and brought to their fulness on the Last Day. But — being found in Christ — being found in the Lamb — even now, you have been marked with the cross and given the status of God's dear saint, God's own blessed child.
Your name is not written on a calendar or a coin, your name is not written on a street or a postage stamp, a building or a boat. Your name is written in the Book of Life. Because of Christ, his sacrifice in your stead, his gift of water and bread and wine and faith, you are a sinner, declared righteous before God.
A blessed All Saints Day to you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Monday, October 08, 2007
"Treasure the Treasure." (2Timothy 1:1-14)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Beloved brothers and sisters called to a life of faith and love in our Savior:
Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
God has called us to be his holy people. The Creator of heaven and earth has, in Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit, called us by the Gospel, enlightened us with his gifts, revealing the mystery hidden before the ages began, the revelation of our Savior come in the flesh to overcome the sharpness of death and open the kingdom of heaven to all believers. In this Gospel, in this Salvation, in this Christ and Cross we put our faith, and by the grace of God we keep and ever hold fast the precious treasure entrusted to us — for our salvation and the salvation of those around us and the salvation of those who will come after us.
This morning we hear from Saint Paul's Second Epistle to Saint Timothy; the inspired Word of the Lord from a faithful, loving apostle to his beloved child in the faith as he nears the finish line he so longed to cross in order to receive his Lord's commendation, "Well done, good and faithful servant, pastor, apostle, teacher, under-shepherd."
Any cursory reading of the apostle's ministry shows the extent to which he had suffered. Paul had been beaten with rods, stoned and left for dead, shipwrecked, jailed and put on trial, all because of his witness to the Word of God made flesh and hung upon a tree of death in order that it might become a tree of life for all who would believe. And now Paul was more and more convinced that the dungeon he now was chained in would be the last stop in encouraging all the churches and pastors placed under his care as he tirelessly proclaimed the saving Good News of eternal life in the one whom he once persecuted but now has freely served. Paul therefore pens his final epistle to both Timothy and to all who will hear it read with him as God comes to redeem through his Word in the divine service.
Through Saint Paul the apostle, faithful Timothy — and all of us — are reminded that God has entrusted us with his precious, saving gifts: the gift of Christ — his perfect life and sacrificial death and glorious resurrection from the dead; the gifts by which trust in his Word has been created and sustained: Holy Scripture, Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, the Holy Supper; and the gift of a joyous and courageous heart that can not but give witness to God and our neighbor in need. And as the blessed apostle exhorts his son in the faith to follow the pattern Paul has held up before him and all the churches, so we this morning are also called to serve the Lord with a clear conscience, a true faith, a resolute spirit, and a readiness to share in the sufferings of both Christ and all who would follow him.
It is as if Paul is saying,
Let cowardice give way to the courage given to you in Christ Jesus. Do not be ashamed, but treasure the one sure Treasure. Do not believe that heaven's promise of life for you is based on your great and mighty works, but confidently put your faith in the unshakeable promise that because of the grace and mercy God has made manifest in the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son, he has declared you holy, his dear child, and an heir of heaven.
And what the Lord says to Timothy through his chosen apostle he says to the Church today, "Though you are by nature timid and tense and uneasy, in Christ and united with him in Baptism, be an unashamed steward of what has been entrusted to you. Follow the pattern I have held up before you. Follow the life of faith I have lived. Follow me as I daily confess my sins, and, trusting in the Gospel of forgiveness, give the good witness that Christ came to rescue sinners broken under the crushing weight of the Law."
God, in Christ Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, has called us to be his people, robed in the righteousness of Christ, and sent as his ambassadors to those God has placed in our lives — to witness clearly to Christ and serve their needs in a way that says,
"We care — for you. We care for your salvation."
Our Crucified and Risen Lord has promised to bestow upon his Church on earth everything necessary to carry out what he has called his people to be and to do. By his Word and Spirit, may we continue to believe that in the Lamb who once was slain, we have been blessed for all eternity — that we might be used by him to be a blessing to many.
God keep you under his Word, in the grace of your Baptism, and the forgiveness and strength of his Table.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Beloved brothers and sisters called to a life of faith and love in our Savior:
Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
God has called us to be his holy people. The Creator of heaven and earth has, in Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit, called us by the Gospel, enlightened us with his gifts, revealing the mystery hidden before the ages began, the revelation of our Savior come in the flesh to overcome the sharpness of death and open the kingdom of heaven to all believers. In this Gospel, in this Salvation, in this Christ and Cross we put our faith, and by the grace of God we keep and ever hold fast the precious treasure entrusted to us — for our salvation and the salvation of those around us and the salvation of those who will come after us.
This morning we hear from Saint Paul's Second Epistle to Saint Timothy; the inspired Word of the Lord from a faithful, loving apostle to his beloved child in the faith as he nears the finish line he so longed to cross in order to receive his Lord's commendation, "Well done, good and faithful servant, pastor, apostle, teacher, under-shepherd."
Any cursory reading of the apostle's ministry shows the extent to which he had suffered. Paul had been beaten with rods, stoned and left for dead, shipwrecked, jailed and put on trial, all because of his witness to the Word of God made flesh and hung upon a tree of death in order that it might become a tree of life for all who would believe. And now Paul was more and more convinced that the dungeon he now was chained in would be the last stop in encouraging all the churches and pastors placed under his care as he tirelessly proclaimed the saving Good News of eternal life in the one whom he once persecuted but now has freely served. Paul therefore pens his final epistle to both Timothy and to all who will hear it read with him as God comes to redeem through his Word in the divine service.
Through Saint Paul the apostle, faithful Timothy — and all of us — are reminded that God has entrusted us with his precious, saving gifts: the gift of Christ — his perfect life and sacrificial death and glorious resurrection from the dead; the gifts by which trust in his Word has been created and sustained: Holy Scripture, Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, the Holy Supper; and the gift of a joyous and courageous heart that can not but give witness to God and our neighbor in need. And as the blessed apostle exhorts his son in the faith to follow the pattern Paul has held up before him and all the churches, so we this morning are also called to serve the Lord with a clear conscience, a true faith, a resolute spirit, and a readiness to share in the sufferings of both Christ and all who would follow him.
It is as if Paul is saying,
Let cowardice give way to the courage given to you in Christ Jesus. Do not be ashamed, but treasure the one sure Treasure. Do not believe that heaven's promise of life for you is based on your great and mighty works, but confidently put your faith in the unshakeable promise that because of the grace and mercy God has made manifest in the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son, he has declared you holy, his dear child, and an heir of heaven.
And what the Lord says to Timothy through his chosen apostle he says to the Church today, "Though you are by nature timid and tense and uneasy, in Christ and united with him in Baptism, be an unashamed steward of what has been entrusted to you. Follow the pattern I have held up before you. Follow the life of faith I have lived. Follow me as I daily confess my sins, and, trusting in the Gospel of forgiveness, give the good witness that Christ came to rescue sinners broken under the crushing weight of the Law."
God, in Christ Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, has called us to be his people, robed in the righteousness of Christ, and sent as his ambassadors to those God has placed in our lives — to witness clearly to Christ and serve their needs in a way that says,
"We care — for you. We care for your salvation."
Our Crucified and Risen Lord has promised to bestow upon his Church on earth everything necessary to carry out what he has called his people to be and to do. By his Word and Spirit, may we continue to believe that in the Lamb who once was slain, we have been blessed for all eternity — that we might be used by him to be a blessing to many.
God keep you under his Word, in the grace of your Baptism, and the forgiveness and strength of his Table.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Monday, October 01, 2007
"God is my Help." (Luke 16:19-31)
In the Name of Jesus
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ:
In the words of the hymn:
Forgive us Lord, for selfish thanks and praise,
For words that speak at variance with deeds;
Forgive our thanks for walking pleasant ways
Unmindful of a broken brother's needs. (LSB 788:3)
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the sixteenth chapter:
[And Jesus said to them,] “There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores. The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. (Luke 16:19-22 ESV)
If the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus was made into a realistic video game, it would have to be rated GDHS for its Graphic Depiction of Human Suffering — human suffering both at the hands of a man with ample means to render aid and alleviate human suffering, and — if that wasn't enough — at the hands (actually the teeth) of ravenous dogs of the street on the prowl for a free meal as soon as this weak soul could not fend off the advances of their tongues.
An invalid left parked on the sidewalk outside of the gated residence of a man who dressed to the hilt with clothes usually reserved for royalty and dined daily on the most delicious of dinners.
Poor, pitiful Lazarus. Incapable of providing for himself the most meager of necessities, he is laid at the gate of one who proclaimed with his clothes and his feasts that he — a child of Abraham — was deserving of all placed into his large lap of luxury.
And day by day, with all the festivities and merry-making, this rich man plunged himself deeper and deeper into his preoccupation of living the good life, living the blessed life. Was it because he had spied the helpless man on the other side of the wall that separated his estate from his neighbors and their needs and quiet pleas for leftovers? Was it because he refused to entertain the idea that he should lift even a finger for one he had convinced himself somehow deserved his miserable fate? In any event, although we will later hear that he knows this helpless man's name (Lazarus, which means "God has helped") he fails miserably in alleviating the misery of a man who's only hope was a share in the scraps that inadvertently fell off the over-abundant table.
And if the contrast presented between these two men is stark during their earthly life, then it is as sharp as a razor at their deaths.
Lazarus' death is met with the very angels from heaven, who lovingly carry a man who had only God's help to hope for.
He is not brought to lie outside a heavenly gate to be attended by Saint Bernards with whiskey kegs strapped to their collars. His body is restored to health, his sores removed. He is cleansed and clothed in the finest of linens to be brought to recline with Father Abraham himself as they join the wedding feast that has no end.
And what do we hear of the rich man's demise? The description is matter-of-fact: "The rich man also died and was buried." No angels. No cleansing. No clothing. He died. He was buried. End of story.
With this parable Jesus paints the clearest of themes: the theme that the Saint Luke spotlights so well in his Gospel account: the Great Reversal of salvation that recounts again and again the judgment that awaits for those who live their lives in faith in response to the goodness and grace of God — and for those who do not. One judgment for those who persist in their rebellion against God's call to repent, believe in his Son, and serve him freely by serving the needy God places before them, and acquital for all who would receive God's calling and promises in faith.
The Great Reversal announced by Christ and preserved in Luke's Gospel, from Mary in her singing of the Magnificat. From Simeon as he holds the glory of Israel and the Light for the Gentiles in his hands. And now from Jesus as he presents yet another parable to the Pharisees, who, as we heard last Sunday, were, with few exceptions, "lovers of money."
Our gracious and merciful God has called those who have abundantly been given his riches to freely, graciously, lovingly, serve the poor and helpless in joyful response to the mercies they have also been shown. And the only way that can become a reality in our lives is as a fruit of faith in God's atoning mercy as he gives us who deserved only his wrath and punishment everything in his Son.
Have we followed the will of our heavenly Father as clearly presented by God's own mouthpieces: Moses and the Prophets? Or have we succumbed to the temptation to believe that the helpless are simply getting their just deserts for their laziness and stupidity and lack of ambition to be what we have made ourselves into?
God forgive us and change our hearts. God forgive us and open our eyes and our hearts to those whose cries for help are drowned out by our cries of merry-making and day-to-day excess.
Forgive us, Lord, for feast that knows no fast.
For joy in things that meanwhile starve the soul.
For walls and [gates] that hide your mercies vast
And blur our vision of the Kingdom goal. (LSB 788:5)
Jesus continues his parable:
"And in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’ " (Luke 16:23-26 ESV)
He just doesn't get it. Although the nameless rich man has come to grips with the meeting out of just deserts after a life of excess and success at the expense of such as poor Lazarus, he continues in his belief that Lazarus (and Father Abraham) are merely waiting to carry out his requests. "Hey, Father Abraham, I'm thirsty over here. Send errand boy Lazarus over here to re-fill my water glass."
No repentance. No regrets. Only the first inklings that the consequences for hoarding God's good gifts, for self-centered rebellion against God's merciful will, for neglecting the plight of the needy are just beginning.
Abraham announces the finality of the final judgment. No deal-making. No request-making. No changing places. Those who's only hope is in the grace of God — and his Son — find themselves comforted. Those who's only hope is in the ordering of the universe with themselves in the center find themselves in anguish.
Forgive us, Lord, for shallow thankfulness,
For dull content with warmth and sheltered care,
For songs of praise for food and harvest press,
While of your richer gifts we're unaware. (LSB 788:1)
Lazarus longed for mere table scraps, the leftovers that we might assign to the garbage disposal or the plastic bowls of our house pets. But despite the agony he experienced left for dead on the sidewalk, God had given him a name and a faith to trust that, despite all appearances, God had promised to be his help. Lazarus longed for leftovers, but in Christ, God has lavashly given him his very best, the very life-blood of the one who was crowned with purple and a one-of-a-kind crown that he might win for all a heavenly robe and a chair at the banquet table with Abraham and all the faithful.
The eighth chapter of Second Corinthians tells us that Christ became poor that we might become rich. Christ came to be our help and rescue from all that would come and devour us and leave us for dead.
Christ robed himself in our incurable sores and diseased skin. Christ took upon himself our weakness and helplessness and abandonment - that we might be received by heaven's angels and readied for the feast with all who died trusting only in God and his only-begotten Son as their help and redemption.
Jesus concludes his parable:
"And [the rich man] said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’ But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’ And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’ ” (Luke 16:27-31 ESV)
With increased resignation, the rich man turns his requests to those of his own house, those who joined him in his daily routine of gulping and gorging. "O.K., well, if it's too late for me, warn those I care for. Send a word to my five brothers from someone they will listen to: someone who has come back from the dead!"
Now we see why Lazarus is comforted and the rich man is destined for an eternity separated from God's grace and mercy and gifts at table.
You see, in this life and in the next, it's all about which word we put our trust in.
Will we believe a word from those who claim to have been brought back from the dead — or will we believe the Word through whom heaven and earth was created?
Will we believe the spirit of Christmas past — or will we believe the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us?
Will we believe those who claim to have a word from the great beyond — or will we believe the Word in whom Moses and the Prophets and Abraham and Lazarus put their faith: even Christ Jesus, the Word Incarnate.
It is Christ who laid aside the riches of his glory for Lazarus and for all who would confess that their only help is in God and his loving-kindness for those who, before him, hold only their sins in their hands.
We too have been found helpless and abandoned, unable to fend off the attacks of the world, the devil and our own sinful flesh. But we have not been left for dead. At your Baptism, God gave you a name and a faith in his Word, a faith to trust that, despite all appearances, God had promised to be your help. Being found in Christ, you have been washed and given the whitest of robes, that you might dine on the richest of foods at the wedding feast of the Lamb in his eternal Kingdom.
We pray:
Open our eyes to see your love's intent,
To know with minds and hearts its depths and height;
May thankfulness be days in service spent,
Reflections of Christ's life and love and light. (LSB 788:6)
In the Name of our only help, Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ:
In the words of the hymn:
Forgive us Lord, for selfish thanks and praise,
For words that speak at variance with deeds;
Forgive our thanks for walking pleasant ways
Unmindful of a broken brother's needs. (LSB 788:3)
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the sixteenth chapter:
[And Jesus said to them,] “There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores. The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. (Luke 16:19-22 ESV)
If the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus was made into a realistic video game, it would have to be rated GDHS for its Graphic Depiction of Human Suffering — human suffering both at the hands of a man with ample means to render aid and alleviate human suffering, and — if that wasn't enough — at the hands (actually the teeth) of ravenous dogs of the street on the prowl for a free meal as soon as this weak soul could not fend off the advances of their tongues.
An invalid left parked on the sidewalk outside of the gated residence of a man who dressed to the hilt with clothes usually reserved for royalty and dined daily on the most delicious of dinners.
Poor, pitiful Lazarus. Incapable of providing for himself the most meager of necessities, he is laid at the gate of one who proclaimed with his clothes and his feasts that he — a child of Abraham — was deserving of all placed into his large lap of luxury.
And day by day, with all the festivities and merry-making, this rich man plunged himself deeper and deeper into his preoccupation of living the good life, living the blessed life. Was it because he had spied the helpless man on the other side of the wall that separated his estate from his neighbors and their needs and quiet pleas for leftovers? Was it because he refused to entertain the idea that he should lift even a finger for one he had convinced himself somehow deserved his miserable fate? In any event, although we will later hear that he knows this helpless man's name (Lazarus, which means "God has helped") he fails miserably in alleviating the misery of a man who's only hope was a share in the scraps that inadvertently fell off the over-abundant table.
And if the contrast presented between these two men is stark during their earthly life, then it is as sharp as a razor at their deaths.
Lazarus' death is met with the very angels from heaven, who lovingly carry a man who had only God's help to hope for.
He is not brought to lie outside a heavenly gate to be attended by Saint Bernards with whiskey kegs strapped to their collars. His body is restored to health, his sores removed. He is cleansed and clothed in the finest of linens to be brought to recline with Father Abraham himself as they join the wedding feast that has no end.
And what do we hear of the rich man's demise? The description is matter-of-fact: "The rich man also died and was buried." No angels. No cleansing. No clothing. He died. He was buried. End of story.
With this parable Jesus paints the clearest of themes: the theme that the Saint Luke spotlights so well in his Gospel account: the Great Reversal of salvation that recounts again and again the judgment that awaits for those who live their lives in faith in response to the goodness and grace of God — and for those who do not. One judgment for those who persist in their rebellion against God's call to repent, believe in his Son, and serve him freely by serving the needy God places before them, and acquital for all who would receive God's calling and promises in faith.
The Great Reversal announced by Christ and preserved in Luke's Gospel, from Mary in her singing of the Magnificat. From Simeon as he holds the glory of Israel and the Light for the Gentiles in his hands. And now from Jesus as he presents yet another parable to the Pharisees, who, as we heard last Sunday, were, with few exceptions, "lovers of money."
Our gracious and merciful God has called those who have abundantly been given his riches to freely, graciously, lovingly, serve the poor and helpless in joyful response to the mercies they have also been shown. And the only way that can become a reality in our lives is as a fruit of faith in God's atoning mercy as he gives us who deserved only his wrath and punishment everything in his Son.
Have we followed the will of our heavenly Father as clearly presented by God's own mouthpieces: Moses and the Prophets? Or have we succumbed to the temptation to believe that the helpless are simply getting their just deserts for their laziness and stupidity and lack of ambition to be what we have made ourselves into?
God forgive us and change our hearts. God forgive us and open our eyes and our hearts to those whose cries for help are drowned out by our cries of merry-making and day-to-day excess.
Forgive us, Lord, for feast that knows no fast.
For joy in things that meanwhile starve the soul.
For walls and [gates] that hide your mercies vast
And blur our vision of the Kingdom goal. (LSB 788:5)
Jesus continues his parable:
"And in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’ " (Luke 16:23-26 ESV)
He just doesn't get it. Although the nameless rich man has come to grips with the meeting out of just deserts after a life of excess and success at the expense of such as poor Lazarus, he continues in his belief that Lazarus (and Father Abraham) are merely waiting to carry out his requests. "Hey, Father Abraham, I'm thirsty over here. Send errand boy Lazarus over here to re-fill my water glass."
No repentance. No regrets. Only the first inklings that the consequences for hoarding God's good gifts, for self-centered rebellion against God's merciful will, for neglecting the plight of the needy are just beginning.
Abraham announces the finality of the final judgment. No deal-making. No request-making. No changing places. Those who's only hope is in the grace of God — and his Son — find themselves comforted. Those who's only hope is in the ordering of the universe with themselves in the center find themselves in anguish.
Forgive us, Lord, for shallow thankfulness,
For dull content with warmth and sheltered care,
For songs of praise for food and harvest press,
While of your richer gifts we're unaware. (LSB 788:1)
Lazarus longed for mere table scraps, the leftovers that we might assign to the garbage disposal or the plastic bowls of our house pets. But despite the agony he experienced left for dead on the sidewalk, God had given him a name and a faith to trust that, despite all appearances, God had promised to be his help. Lazarus longed for leftovers, but in Christ, God has lavashly given him his very best, the very life-blood of the one who was crowned with purple and a one-of-a-kind crown that he might win for all a heavenly robe and a chair at the banquet table with Abraham and all the faithful.
The eighth chapter of Second Corinthians tells us that Christ became poor that we might become rich. Christ came to be our help and rescue from all that would come and devour us and leave us for dead.
Christ robed himself in our incurable sores and diseased skin. Christ took upon himself our weakness and helplessness and abandonment - that we might be received by heaven's angels and readied for the feast with all who died trusting only in God and his only-begotten Son as their help and redemption.
Jesus concludes his parable:
"And [the rich man] said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’ But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’ And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’ ” (Luke 16:27-31 ESV)
With increased resignation, the rich man turns his requests to those of his own house, those who joined him in his daily routine of gulping and gorging. "O.K., well, if it's too late for me, warn those I care for. Send a word to my five brothers from someone they will listen to: someone who has come back from the dead!"
Now we see why Lazarus is comforted and the rich man is destined for an eternity separated from God's grace and mercy and gifts at table.
You see, in this life and in the next, it's all about which word we put our trust in.
Will we believe a word from those who claim to have been brought back from the dead — or will we believe the Word through whom heaven and earth was created?
Will we believe the spirit of Christmas past — or will we believe the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us?
Will we believe those who claim to have a word from the great beyond — or will we believe the Word in whom Moses and the Prophets and Abraham and Lazarus put their faith: even Christ Jesus, the Word Incarnate.
It is Christ who laid aside the riches of his glory for Lazarus and for all who would confess that their only help is in God and his loving-kindness for those who, before him, hold only their sins in their hands.
We too have been found helpless and abandoned, unable to fend off the attacks of the world, the devil and our own sinful flesh. But we have not been left for dead. At your Baptism, God gave you a name and a faith in his Word, a faith to trust that, despite all appearances, God had promised to be your help. Being found in Christ, you have been washed and given the whitest of robes, that you might dine on the richest of foods at the wedding feast of the Lamb in his eternal Kingdom.
We pray:
Open our eyes to see your love's intent,
To know with minds and hearts its depths and height;
May thankfulness be days in service spent,
Reflections of Christ's life and love and light. (LSB 788:6)
In the Name of our only help, Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
The Delight of the Heavenly Father (Luke 14:1-14)
In the name of Jesus
Dear brothers and sisters called to the banquet hall of Christ:
Imagine receiving in the mail tomorrow an expensive-looking parchment envelope sporting simply your mailing address in beautiful calligraphy. You open up the fancy wax seal and pull out of the envelope an engraved dinner invitation, the letters embossed with gold foil. Everything about the invitation gives witness to the "spare-no-expense" character of the offered banquet.
This is the kind of communique that would instantly gladden our hearts and motivate us to openly share our excitement and thanksgiving with anyone who would willingly share our joy. "Look at what I received in the mail!" we would say as we paraded the invitation before the eyes of our quite-possibly jealous friends.
But what if you knew in your heart-of-hearts that someone had made a great big mistake? What if you actually knew that the calligrapher had inadvertently switched the numbers of the street address? Or actually had sent the invitation to the resident who previously lived at your address? What if you had convinced yourself that there was just no way this invitation should have come to you? Would you go anyway and try to convince the doorkeeper of your worthiness to partake? Or, would you finally discard the invitation or drop it back in the mail after writing on the front of the envelope: "Delivered to the wrong address."?
It's hard for me to imagine anyone not getting excited about receiving a special dinner invitation. It's just part of who we are as human beings, created in the image of God himself. Dolphins might be intelligent, monkeys might be able to communicate, but show them a fancy dinner invitation and they'd just as soon eat it than R.S.V.P. It is Adam and Eve and all their children who were uniquely created to respond with joy and thanksgiving and trust to a call to table, to fellowship with fellow diners and the host of the meal.
In the garden of Eden, our first parents were given the most lavish of spreads as the Lord of the Table spared no expense to make available everything our first parents might even want, and more. It was as if God was saying, "All this has been provided for you, that we might enjoy each other's presence in one of the most special ways possible: at morning and noon and evening meal.
Pastor Norman Nagel says it this way:
The Lord loves a banquet. He is happiest when his people are gathered at the table with him. The Lord delights in giving out good things — ordinary, everyday things, and things far beyond the ordinary. It has always been that way.
When he created the world, God was so pleased with it that he couldn't keep it for himself and simply had to share it with some who would delight in it with him. And there is always more — more than we could ever imagine. ... Half a dozen different birds would surely [have been] enough, perhaps a dozen kinds of fish. But no, we have some of the craziest looking fish. Some from deep down in the darkest depths of the sea we have only recently [seen]. ... [We wonder,] "Why on earth did God make something like that?"
Why on earth did the Lord make something like you? There is only one like you — ever has been, ever will be. The Lord multiplies his delight. He doesn't have the same delight in any hundred of the same. He has a different delight in each unique one of us, and he invites us into delighting with him in each one. (Norman Nagel. Selected Sermons. 161)
But when Adam and Eve took to heart the demonic invitation to doubt God's goodness and his grace and believe the lie that their Creator was less than generous with his gifts, fellowship at the table — and our delight in the gracious differences God made between us — came to a very messy and abrupt end. And we've been unsuccessfully attempting to regain a place at the Lord's table — or replace it with one of our own — ever since.
That's why God had to quickly step in and set in motion the one thing that would restore our fellowship with him and one another. That's why the almighty creator of heaven and earth promised Adam and Eve — and you through them — that at just the right time things would be brought back to the center: God and his redeemed people delighting in each other in an eternal heavenly banquet hall.
You see, the history of salvation can be read — should be read — as the unstoppable unfolding of God's central promise to send the One who would make it possible for every fallen child of Adam and Eve to be cleaned up, properly dressed and escorted to table in the kingdom of heaven, there to enjoy not only the food and drink and song of the banquet, but most importantly, to delight in each other and the good and gracious host of the feast who made it all possible and sustains it with his all-powerful Word.
In today's Gospel we have Christ's take on the feast to come — who's invited, how the guests are prepared for the meal, what's being served, who's doing the serving — contrasted to that of the Jewish religious leaders of Jesus' day. And the contrast couldn't be greater, and more costly for Jesus.
For you see, who Jesus invites and prepares and serves at table leads directly to his arrest and trial and suffering and death. That's how much the Pharisees felt about his table manners. No less than three times in Saint Luke's Gospel account we hear that they grumbled at Jesus, saying, "This man stands condemned as a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors — a table companion of sinners! (Luke 5:30; 7:34; 15:2)
The Pharisees desired a festal meal of their own making, one that would put the spotlight on their self-created status as the dining elite. They enjoyed their mutual applause. They guarded it and got rid of anyone who threatened to expose it as hollow.
Whether it is received in faith or rejected in unbelief, Jesus did come to be the friend of sinners. That is his title. He came to save the likes of religious outcasts and spiritual misfits who had all but given up hope that heaven's banquet table would ever be open for them. Jesus came as the friend of all who believed the only thing they could place before God's altar of salvation was their sin.
Jesus came to willingly, joyfully give hope to the hopeless and faith to the despairing. The great exchange: his righteousness for their unrighteousness. His life blood to redeem the poor and crippled and blind and lame.
Who may properly be escorted to the Lord's banquet hall?
Those whom the Lord has prepared as he comes in his Word with water to wash and cleanse and cloth with the only garment worthy of the great banquet hall: the unstained robe of the Son's perfect life in our place. His keeping of the Law, his pure delight in the love and grace of God the Father. His sinless response as he bowed to the will of the One who sent him and clothed himself with a lowly servant's towel to prepare those who could never earn an invitation for an eternal meal with their Creator.
Who may properly be escorted to the Lord's table?
Those who approach, as Luther often reminds us, in faith, truly believing that from Christ and his table they receive his very body and blood, in, with and under the bread and wine, for the forgiveness of all of their sins.
Who may properly be escorted to the feast that will have no end?
Those who are given the grace to examine their unworthiness, their constant need for Christ's word of absolution. Those who confess before heaven and earth that outside of the perfect life and sacrificial death of Christ, they would be found outside the hall for all eternity.
Who may properly be escorted to sit with the Lord of the Banquet and his ransomed guests?
Those who by God's mercy acknowledge that God's forgiving gifts at the Cross of his Son are never to be hoarded or kept locked away in a vault, but allowed to spill over into the lives of those who have trespassed against us.
This morning, believe in your heart and confess with your lips that God was most pleased, most delighted with us, when he baptized us, through the Holy Spirit, into his Son. On that day we first believed, we were marked with the Cross and sealed for his eternal feast.
"Friend of sinners." This is the title Christ received at his one-of-a-kind baptism, as he was sent forth to make all things ready — to be the true friend who lays down his very life for those he loves.
Believe and do not doubt. It is not a great big mistake. Christ has spoken his Word over you. "I take from you all that bars you from my Father's heavenly hall. I have washed you and clothed you. I delight in being your butler, cook, host — your food and drink. In me and my righteous sacrifice in your stead, you are my Father's beloved guest. In repentant joy, come to my table."
In the name of Jesus. Amen
Dear brothers and sisters called to the banquet hall of Christ:
Imagine receiving in the mail tomorrow an expensive-looking parchment envelope sporting simply your mailing address in beautiful calligraphy. You open up the fancy wax seal and pull out of the envelope an engraved dinner invitation, the letters embossed with gold foil. Everything about the invitation gives witness to the "spare-no-expense" character of the offered banquet.
This is the kind of communique that would instantly gladden our hearts and motivate us to openly share our excitement and thanksgiving with anyone who would willingly share our joy. "Look at what I received in the mail!" we would say as we paraded the invitation before the eyes of our quite-possibly jealous friends.
But what if you knew in your heart-of-hearts that someone had made a great big mistake? What if you actually knew that the calligrapher had inadvertently switched the numbers of the street address? Or actually had sent the invitation to the resident who previously lived at your address? What if you had convinced yourself that there was just no way this invitation should have come to you? Would you go anyway and try to convince the doorkeeper of your worthiness to partake? Or, would you finally discard the invitation or drop it back in the mail after writing on the front of the envelope: "Delivered to the wrong address."?
It's hard for me to imagine anyone not getting excited about receiving a special dinner invitation. It's just part of who we are as human beings, created in the image of God himself. Dolphins might be intelligent, monkeys might be able to communicate, but show them a fancy dinner invitation and they'd just as soon eat it than R.S.V.P. It is Adam and Eve and all their children who were uniquely created to respond with joy and thanksgiving and trust to a call to table, to fellowship with fellow diners and the host of the meal.
In the garden of Eden, our first parents were given the most lavish of spreads as the Lord of the Table spared no expense to make available everything our first parents might even want, and more. It was as if God was saying, "All this has been provided for you, that we might enjoy each other's presence in one of the most special ways possible: at morning and noon and evening meal.
Pastor Norman Nagel says it this way:
The Lord loves a banquet. He is happiest when his people are gathered at the table with him. The Lord delights in giving out good things — ordinary, everyday things, and things far beyond the ordinary. It has always been that way.
When he created the world, God was so pleased with it that he couldn't keep it for himself and simply had to share it with some who would delight in it with him. And there is always more — more than we could ever imagine. ... Half a dozen different birds would surely [have been] enough, perhaps a dozen kinds of fish. But no, we have some of the craziest looking fish. Some from deep down in the darkest depths of the sea we have only recently [seen]. ... [We wonder,] "Why on earth did God make something like that?"
Why on earth did the Lord make something like you? There is only one like you — ever has been, ever will be. The Lord multiplies his delight. He doesn't have the same delight in any hundred of the same. He has a different delight in each unique one of us, and he invites us into delighting with him in each one. (Norman Nagel. Selected Sermons. 161)
But when Adam and Eve took to heart the demonic invitation to doubt God's goodness and his grace and believe the lie that their Creator was less than generous with his gifts, fellowship at the table — and our delight in the gracious differences God made between us — came to a very messy and abrupt end. And we've been unsuccessfully attempting to regain a place at the Lord's table — or replace it with one of our own — ever since.
That's why God had to quickly step in and set in motion the one thing that would restore our fellowship with him and one another. That's why the almighty creator of heaven and earth promised Adam and Eve — and you through them — that at just the right time things would be brought back to the center: God and his redeemed people delighting in each other in an eternal heavenly banquet hall.
You see, the history of salvation can be read — should be read — as the unstoppable unfolding of God's central promise to send the One who would make it possible for every fallen child of Adam and Eve to be cleaned up, properly dressed and escorted to table in the kingdom of heaven, there to enjoy not only the food and drink and song of the banquet, but most importantly, to delight in each other and the good and gracious host of the feast who made it all possible and sustains it with his all-powerful Word.
In today's Gospel we have Christ's take on the feast to come — who's invited, how the guests are prepared for the meal, what's being served, who's doing the serving — contrasted to that of the Jewish religious leaders of Jesus' day. And the contrast couldn't be greater, and more costly for Jesus.
For you see, who Jesus invites and prepares and serves at table leads directly to his arrest and trial and suffering and death. That's how much the Pharisees felt about his table manners. No less than three times in Saint Luke's Gospel account we hear that they grumbled at Jesus, saying, "This man stands condemned as a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors — a table companion of sinners! (Luke 5:30; 7:34; 15:2)
The Pharisees desired a festal meal of their own making, one that would put the spotlight on their self-created status as the dining elite. They enjoyed their mutual applause. They guarded it and got rid of anyone who threatened to expose it as hollow.
Whether it is received in faith or rejected in unbelief, Jesus did come to be the friend of sinners. That is his title. He came to save the likes of religious outcasts and spiritual misfits who had all but given up hope that heaven's banquet table would ever be open for them. Jesus came as the friend of all who believed the only thing they could place before God's altar of salvation was their sin.
Jesus came to willingly, joyfully give hope to the hopeless and faith to the despairing. The great exchange: his righteousness for their unrighteousness. His life blood to redeem the poor and crippled and blind and lame.
Who may properly be escorted to the Lord's banquet hall?
Those whom the Lord has prepared as he comes in his Word with water to wash and cleanse and cloth with the only garment worthy of the great banquet hall: the unstained robe of the Son's perfect life in our place. His keeping of the Law, his pure delight in the love and grace of God the Father. His sinless response as he bowed to the will of the One who sent him and clothed himself with a lowly servant's towel to prepare those who could never earn an invitation for an eternal meal with their Creator.
Who may properly be escorted to the Lord's table?
Those who approach, as Luther often reminds us, in faith, truly believing that from Christ and his table they receive his very body and blood, in, with and under the bread and wine, for the forgiveness of all of their sins.
Who may properly be escorted to the feast that will have no end?
Those who are given the grace to examine their unworthiness, their constant need for Christ's word of absolution. Those who confess before heaven and earth that outside of the perfect life and sacrificial death of Christ, they would be found outside the hall for all eternity.
Who may properly be escorted to sit with the Lord of the Banquet and his ransomed guests?
Those who by God's mercy acknowledge that God's forgiving gifts at the Cross of his Son are never to be hoarded or kept locked away in a vault, but allowed to spill over into the lives of those who have trespassed against us.
This morning, believe in your heart and confess with your lips that God was most pleased, most delighted with us, when he baptized us, through the Holy Spirit, into his Son. On that day we first believed, we were marked with the Cross and sealed for his eternal feast.
"Friend of sinners." This is the title Christ received at his one-of-a-kind baptism, as he was sent forth to make all things ready — to be the true friend who lays down his very life for those he loves.
Believe and do not doubt. It is not a great big mistake. Christ has spoken his Word over you. "I take from you all that bars you from my Father's heavenly hall. I have washed you and clothed you. I delight in being your butler, cook, host — your food and drink. In me and my righteous sacrifice in your stead, you are my Father's beloved guest. In repentant joy, come to my table."
In the name of Jesus. Amen
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The One Thing Needful (Luke 10:38-42)
In the Name of Jesus
Dear brothers and sisters baptized into Christ:
Last weekend, at the annual congregational retreat, many of us here gathered around the campfire and the night sky to sing those vacation Bible school songs we first learned as small children. And after several verses of "Father Abraham" and "I Will Make You Fishers of Men," we sang about a sycamore tree and a wee-little man named Zachaeus, repeating the refrain with loud voices and joyfully clapping hands; echoing the words of Jesus himself: "For I'm going to your house today."
The coming of the kingdom of God to the house of a repentant, believing tax collector is something every true Christian should sing about with heart-felt joy. This is the same spectacular advent announced by the seventy-two disciples. This is the same amazing epiphany portrayed in the parable of the good Samaritan. The holy one of God — sent and baptized into his unique mission as the spotless sacrifice for sin and the victor over death and the grave; the very Son of God — comes under the roof of the house of Zacaheus to proclaim salvation for sinners and restore a wandering sheep to God's dear flock. And now he comes under the roof of the home of Mary and Martha.
Now as they [the disciples] went on their way, he [Jesus] entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. (Luke 10:38 ESV)
In the eyes of the unbelieving, Jesus does the unexpected and the unacceptable. The crowds had been taken back when Jesus, that promising young rabbi from Nazareth, had invited himself to the sinful house of a sinful tax collector named Zachaeus, judged by most as not only a sympathizer to the pagan Roman empire but as a traitor to his own people. And that crowd around the sycamore tree would have had a very similar reaction as Jesus now accepts the invitation of a woman to enter her home. A woman approaching a saintly rabbi and taking him into her house? Didn't she know that kind of thing was just not done? What would the neighbors think? Doesn't he know what staying in the home of two unattached women will do to his budding career? Doesn't he have a reputation to keep clean?
Nevertheless, before the disapproving and disappointed crowd, Jesus receives the invitation offered and — without first asking about the quality of awaiting amenities and the quantity of the cuisine — enters the private residence of these two sisters who, as in the case of Zachaeus, may have very well been suffering under a less-than-spotless reputation.
And she [Martha] had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and kept on listening to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. (Luke 10:39-40a ESV)
Two sisters prepare themselves to receive the Lord, but in very different ways. Whether Mary began to straighten the linens on the table and peel the potatoes before she found herself sitting at the feet of Jesus we are not told. But, soon, Martha realized that she was left shouldering the weight of all that needed to be done to properly receive such an important guest, especially the preparations for a proper meal. Ordering out for pizza was simply out of the question. This wasn't uncle Fred come to socialize. This was the Lord, God's own anointed, the One she believed was the hope of Israel. Frantic, she began to get everything ready for her great service to this, the greatest guest that would ever venture under her roof. And very quickly she realized that she couldn't pay attention to the words Jesus was announcing in the front room while running around the kitchen chopping up meat and vegetables, kneeding the bread and mixing the sauces that would accompany the meal. With all her works of service, she became distracted and diverted — from the word of Christ, from the greater service he was doing through his word. In her attempt to first serve Christ, she had distanced herself from the very gifts Christ came to graciously give her. She didn't mean to, but, even with the best intentions, she put the cart before the horse. For you see, when Christ comes under our roof, he wills that even the hostess of the house come and allow him to do the unexpected, but that one thing required: to serve us.
The first thing presented in any Christian study of the God-pleasing, the Biblical, the Lutheran understanding of what goes on here on Sunday mornings is a review of the little word "service." To many, Sunday morning is all about the service of our worship. Too many of us approach Sunday morning service — and our entire Christian life — busy accomplishing this and doing that in a frenzied attempt to make things just right and proper for Christ and his Church. We assemble the homeless food bags on Monday, we clean the refrigerator in the congregation's kitchen on Tuesday, we chair the meeting to decide which contractor will re-surface the parking lot on Wednesday, we plan the Thanksgiving golf outing on Thursday, we sort the preschool crayons on Friday, we polish the sanctuary piano on Saturday, and we sleep through the alarm on Sunday.
Martha's distractions are our diversions. Martha's fallen nature is our fallen nature. Martha's temptation to first serve Jesus, and then, if there's time left over, to let Jesus say a few words is our danger as well. The devil, the world and our own sinful nature love nothing more than keeping us busy with saintly things to do that will drown out the voice of our Good Shepherd and bring us outside earshot of his redeeming word.
What Christ deigns for Sunday morning as he gathers us under this roof, is — first and foremost — his precious, life-giving service for each of us. He comes to feed and nourish us with his food as the Bread that came down from heaven.
It is Christ and his Word that makes a Church. It is Christ and his Word that makes a family and a Church family. In the same manner as the Gentile man rescued from demon-possession, Mary has begun to trust in Jesus as the Lord who redeems through his Word, and finds herself a disciple of Jesus, being found where a disciple of Jesus should be found: at his feet, that her ears might quickly receive what his mouth so graciously offered.
But back in the kitchen, things are really heating up.
And she [Martha] went up to him [Jesus] and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:40b-42 ESV)
Tormented Martha is at her wit's end. "How shameful." she thinks. Not only has her younger sister abandoned ship, but Jesus continues to give Mary his undivided attention as Rabbi and Teacher and Lord instead of allowing her to do what she should be doing: serving him his portion of the cheese and crackers and wine and coleslaw and rolls and potatoes and gravy and roast.
The great thing we celebrate when Jesus came a knockin' at the door of Zachaeus is not his great promise to make things right by writing a big check for the poor. It is Jesus' greater promise to make things right by the giving of his very life for scoundrels like Zachaeus.
Matthew 20:28 and Mark 10:45 document the purpose for which Christ came as we hear from Jesus own lips: "The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for the many.” Jesus said. (Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45 ESV)
The great thing we celebrate when Jesus entered the house of Mary and Martha is not their great work of serving a six course meal. It is Jesus' greater work as the Suffering Servant who carries us to table, sits us down in our chair, and serves us with his Word. His Word with water. His Word with bread and wine. His Word through the Prophets and Apostles.
God-given faith trusts that with Jesus it's a one course meal — and he gives us himself.
May God in his grace open our ears and sit us down at the feet of Christ and his Word, the one thing needful — the one thing that can never be taken away.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Dear brothers and sisters baptized into Christ:
Last weekend, at the annual congregational retreat, many of us here gathered around the campfire and the night sky to sing those vacation Bible school songs we first learned as small children. And after several verses of "Father Abraham" and "I Will Make You Fishers of Men," we sang about a sycamore tree and a wee-little man named Zachaeus, repeating the refrain with loud voices and joyfully clapping hands; echoing the words of Jesus himself: "For I'm going to your house today."
The coming of the kingdom of God to the house of a repentant, believing tax collector is something every true Christian should sing about with heart-felt joy. This is the same spectacular advent announced by the seventy-two disciples. This is the same amazing epiphany portrayed in the parable of the good Samaritan. The holy one of God — sent and baptized into his unique mission as the spotless sacrifice for sin and the victor over death and the grave; the very Son of God — comes under the roof of the house of Zacaheus to proclaim salvation for sinners and restore a wandering sheep to God's dear flock. And now he comes under the roof of the home of Mary and Martha.
Now as they [the disciples] went on their way, he [Jesus] entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. (Luke 10:38 ESV)
In the eyes of the unbelieving, Jesus does the unexpected and the unacceptable. The crowds had been taken back when Jesus, that promising young rabbi from Nazareth, had invited himself to the sinful house of a sinful tax collector named Zachaeus, judged by most as not only a sympathizer to the pagan Roman empire but as a traitor to his own people. And that crowd around the sycamore tree would have had a very similar reaction as Jesus now accepts the invitation of a woman to enter her home. A woman approaching a saintly rabbi and taking him into her house? Didn't she know that kind of thing was just not done? What would the neighbors think? Doesn't he know what staying in the home of two unattached women will do to his budding career? Doesn't he have a reputation to keep clean?
Nevertheless, before the disapproving and disappointed crowd, Jesus receives the invitation offered and — without first asking about the quality of awaiting amenities and the quantity of the cuisine — enters the private residence of these two sisters who, as in the case of Zachaeus, may have very well been suffering under a less-than-spotless reputation.
And she [Martha] had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and kept on listening to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. (Luke 10:39-40a ESV)
Two sisters prepare themselves to receive the Lord, but in very different ways. Whether Mary began to straighten the linens on the table and peel the potatoes before she found herself sitting at the feet of Jesus we are not told. But, soon, Martha realized that she was left shouldering the weight of all that needed to be done to properly receive such an important guest, especially the preparations for a proper meal. Ordering out for pizza was simply out of the question. This wasn't uncle Fred come to socialize. This was the Lord, God's own anointed, the One she believed was the hope of Israel. Frantic, she began to get everything ready for her great service to this, the greatest guest that would ever venture under her roof. And very quickly she realized that she couldn't pay attention to the words Jesus was announcing in the front room while running around the kitchen chopping up meat and vegetables, kneeding the bread and mixing the sauces that would accompany the meal. With all her works of service, she became distracted and diverted — from the word of Christ, from the greater service he was doing through his word. In her attempt to first serve Christ, she had distanced herself from the very gifts Christ came to graciously give her. She didn't mean to, but, even with the best intentions, she put the cart before the horse. For you see, when Christ comes under our roof, he wills that even the hostess of the house come and allow him to do the unexpected, but that one thing required: to serve us.
The first thing presented in any Christian study of the God-pleasing, the Biblical, the Lutheran understanding of what goes on here on Sunday mornings is a review of the little word "service." To many, Sunday morning is all about the service of our worship. Too many of us approach Sunday morning service — and our entire Christian life — busy accomplishing this and doing that in a frenzied attempt to make things just right and proper for Christ and his Church. We assemble the homeless food bags on Monday, we clean the refrigerator in the congregation's kitchen on Tuesday, we chair the meeting to decide which contractor will re-surface the parking lot on Wednesday, we plan the Thanksgiving golf outing on Thursday, we sort the preschool crayons on Friday, we polish the sanctuary piano on Saturday, and we sleep through the alarm on Sunday.
Martha's distractions are our diversions. Martha's fallen nature is our fallen nature. Martha's temptation to first serve Jesus, and then, if there's time left over, to let Jesus say a few words is our danger as well. The devil, the world and our own sinful nature love nothing more than keeping us busy with saintly things to do that will drown out the voice of our Good Shepherd and bring us outside earshot of his redeeming word.
What Christ deigns for Sunday morning as he gathers us under this roof, is — first and foremost — his precious, life-giving service for each of us. He comes to feed and nourish us with his food as the Bread that came down from heaven.
It is Christ and his Word that makes a Church. It is Christ and his Word that makes a family and a Church family. In the same manner as the Gentile man rescued from demon-possession, Mary has begun to trust in Jesus as the Lord who redeems through his Word, and finds herself a disciple of Jesus, being found where a disciple of Jesus should be found: at his feet, that her ears might quickly receive what his mouth so graciously offered.
But back in the kitchen, things are really heating up.
And she [Martha] went up to him [Jesus] and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:40b-42 ESV)
Tormented Martha is at her wit's end. "How shameful." she thinks. Not only has her younger sister abandoned ship, but Jesus continues to give Mary his undivided attention as Rabbi and Teacher and Lord instead of allowing her to do what she should be doing: serving him his portion of the cheese and crackers and wine and coleslaw and rolls and potatoes and gravy and roast.
The great thing we celebrate when Jesus came a knockin' at the door of Zachaeus is not his great promise to make things right by writing a big check for the poor. It is Jesus' greater promise to make things right by the giving of his very life for scoundrels like Zachaeus.
Matthew 20:28 and Mark 10:45 document the purpose for which Christ came as we hear from Jesus own lips: "The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for the many.” Jesus said. (Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45 ESV)
The great thing we celebrate when Jesus entered the house of Mary and Martha is not their great work of serving a six course meal. It is Jesus' greater work as the Suffering Servant who carries us to table, sits us down in our chair, and serves us with his Word. His Word with water. His Word with bread and wine. His Word through the Prophets and Apostles.
God-given faith trusts that with Jesus it's a one course meal — and he gives us himself.
May God in his grace open our ears and sit us down at the feet of Christ and his Word, the one thing needful — the one thing that can never be taken away.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Life Under the Voice of the Good Shepherd (John 10:14-18)
In the Name of Jesus
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:
I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Come unto me and rest;
Lay down, O weary one, lay down your head upon my breast."
I came to Jesus as I was, so weary, worn and sad;
I found in him a resting place, And he has made me glad.
If people today can agree on anything, they can agree on the fact that in these last days there are plenty of voices calling to the sheep, "Come and follow."
We instruct our children who to listen to and who to follow. And at the same time we teach our children who to ignore and who to run away from. We spend millions to educate our young people on the dangers of listening to and following the wrong kind of friends. But, at the same time, we spend even more bringing thousands of voices into our very homes so that we may sit mesmerized by a myriad of voices from cables that snake their way into our houses and into our ears through the screen of the television and the internet: the family altar of our age.
And this morning's Gospel underscores the severity of the problem each of us face in a world bombarded with the voices of all kinds of shepherds calling for the sheep to come and follow. You see, when it comes to salvation, it's truly a matter of life and death which shepherd's voice we listen to.
Scientific experiments have shown it to be true. Sheep recognize their own shepherd not by the clothes he wears, not by the staff he carries, not by the dog at his side. The sheep know their own shepherd by his voice, by the words that come out of his mouth. And its the same thing for the true Christian Church on earth and for each true believer in Christ. That's the way it's been from the beginning, as Saint Matthew's account of our Good Shepherd's transfiguration shows.
While [Jesus] was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well-pleased. Listen to him!" (Matthew 17:5)
It is specifically this blessed relationship between our heavenly Father and his beloved Son that serves as the basis for any blessed relationship we might enjoy between each of us and our Redeemer. The love and grace and kindness within the Trinity is the foundation upon which salvation is set. This Christ reveals as he announces:
I am the Good Shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me: because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father." (John 10:14-18)
The world today needs to hear these clear words of Christ. Your neighbor needs to hear these clear words of Christ. You and I need to hear these clear words of Christ and keep them treasured in our hearts today and every day. To the fatherless, to the widowed, to the sick and dying, to the prisoner, to the despairing, to the lonely, to the neglected -- to the sinner -- Christ has something very definite to say: "I am the Good Shepherd. ... And I lay down my life for the sheep."
The Shepherd is the Good Shepherd because only he truly cares for the sheep. Only he truly cares because only he willingly, voluntarily leaves the glories of heaven to lay down his own life for such and undeserving flock of wayward and wandering sheep.
Saint John says it beautifully when he writes these inspired words:
God's love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live trough him. In this is love, no that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1John 4:9-10)
How do we know the Good Shepherd's voice in the midst of all the other voices calling us to follow? The voice of the Good Shepherd is the voice of the one who defines true care for the dirty, tired and helpless sheep. The Good Shepherd's staff is held by arms with pierced wrists. The Good Shepherd leads his flock to green pastures with pierced feet. The Good Shepherd is the crucified and risen shepherd -- crucified and risen for the poor sheep.
Five hundred years ago, Martin Luther said it this way, "The only duty of a Christian is to know Christ aright." This is the life-long task of the Christian Church on earth. This is the life-long task of this congregation and each one of us here this morning: to know the real Good Shepherd; to know the true Shepherd's true voice, that voice that spoke over us when we first believed.
I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Behold, I freely give
The living water, thirsty one; stoop down and drink and live.
I came to Jesus, and I drank of that life-giving stream;
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, and now I live in him.
The Shepherd has come and spoke to us with water and his Word. The Shepherd comes and speaks to us through the pages of the Holy Bible. The Shepherd comes to speak over bread and wine laid upon his altar, that his flock may feed upon his very body and blood.
Yes, we have been baptized into the Good Shepherd. Our ears have been baptized and brought to life, and now we are able to hear the voice of our Master. Our ears have been washed with his Word and now we are able to hear the voice of Jesus calling us to follow wherever he may graciously lead. In faith we now hear him as he comes this morning and says, "I am the Good Shepherd. ... And I lay down my life for the sheep."
And, in response, we say back to him, "Yes, you are my Good Shepherd, for you laid down my life for me."
A pastor once wrote:
... even though I must suffer death and all kinds of misfortune, I will not let that thwart my faith. I know and hear and stay close to his voice! For even as a shepherd tenderly calls his little sheep, so Christ also encourages me. "I am your shepherd. I have laid down my life for you. I died for you!" This is the word I hear and believe. This is my one sure guarantee that he knows me and I know him. ...
Never doubt, therefore, that when a person is baptized, they are as lovely and pure in God's sight as is the dear sun, no sin remaining, nothing but eternal righteousness. Christ himself spoke that way. "He who believes and is baptized shall be saved." But this, of course, cannot be outwardly observed. Regardless, however, it's true, provided we abide with the word and the voice of the Shepherd. Everything depends, therefore, on our holding fast to the Word ... .
Those words, written by Martin Luther to the flock over 460 years ago are as true today as they were then. Until Christ comes again, it is all about the voice of the Good Shepherd. For wherever the Word of the Shepherd is, there is his flock, the Church. Therefore the Reformers could joyfully confess that even "a seven-year child knows what the Church is, namely, holy believers and sheep who hear the voice of their Shepherd." (Smalcald Articles 3.12.2)
This age continues in its parent's footsteps of fall prey to false shepherds who ravage the flock and entice away any from the flock who begin to doubt in Christ the Shepherd's call, and the results are not pretty. One example stands out.
Years ago, a man journeyed throughout the land, preaching that he was the promised good shepherd, teaching a new religion that exposed the decay and hypocrisy of society while preaching hope of a restored life in the kingdom of God. For years this shepherd called people to follow him and become disciples of his flock. He promised the thousands he prosteletized, "I can be your shepherd, and my father can be your higher shepherd."
The man to whom I'm referring is Marshall Applewhite, co-leader of the religious group known as "Heaven's Gate." This shepherd led his flock to worship him as the great shepherd and savior, to devote themselves to his seductive teachings, and to blindly follow him as he jumped off the cliff of despair and darkness. This infamous shepherd promised to care for the sheep and to give them life, but instead poisoned the herd with a hypnotizing mix of empty promises and misleading words.
Again, Luther:
Recognizing a true christian, therefore, involves far more than outward appearances; it's a matter of hearing the Word. That's exactly how it is with a little sheep. It's very life depends upon hearing. If it doesn't hear the [true] Shepherd's voice, the wolves will soon be there. Without the Shepherd's voice, all joy and assurance vanish and only fear and trembling remain.
That's how it is also with a Christian. If he looses the Word, all comfort is gone. But as long as he is faithful to the Word, he will behold Christ his Shepherd, and therefore everything Christ has earned and promised him, namely, forgiveness of sins and eternal life.
And this enables [a Christian] to live out his life in full and certain hope. He eats, drinks, works, does what he is told to do, yes, will even gladly suffer whatever is laid upon him. He keeps his ears wide open for his Shepherd's voice and more and more trains himself not to judge according to what he sees and feels but solely according to the sound of the Shepherd's voice, "I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep."
This morning the Good Shepherd comes to his own. He comes and speaks, and his sheep hear his voice and follow, living with is Word in their ears and in their hearts, repeating it to themselves and to God and to their neighbor.
Hear again these precious words of Christ. Memorize them. Tuck them into your heart. Hold tight to them every day of your life. Remind yourself of them when you wake up and when you go to sleep.
"I am the Good Shepherd, for I laid down my life for you."
I heard the voice of Jesus say, "I am this dark world's light;
Look unto me, your morn shall rise, And all your day be bright."
I looked to Jesus, and I found in him my star, my sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk till trav'ling days are done.
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:
I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Come unto me and rest;
Lay down, O weary one, lay down your head upon my breast."
I came to Jesus as I was, so weary, worn and sad;
I found in him a resting place, And he has made me glad.
If people today can agree on anything, they can agree on the fact that in these last days there are plenty of voices calling to the sheep, "Come and follow."
We instruct our children who to listen to and who to follow. And at the same time we teach our children who to ignore and who to run away from. We spend millions to educate our young people on the dangers of listening to and following the wrong kind of friends. But, at the same time, we spend even more bringing thousands of voices into our very homes so that we may sit mesmerized by a myriad of voices from cables that snake their way into our houses and into our ears through the screen of the television and the internet: the family altar of our age.
And this morning's Gospel underscores the severity of the problem each of us face in a world bombarded with the voices of all kinds of shepherds calling for the sheep to come and follow. You see, when it comes to salvation, it's truly a matter of life and death which shepherd's voice we listen to.
Scientific experiments have shown it to be true. Sheep recognize their own shepherd not by the clothes he wears, not by the staff he carries, not by the dog at his side. The sheep know their own shepherd by his voice, by the words that come out of his mouth. And its the same thing for the true Christian Church on earth and for each true believer in Christ. That's the way it's been from the beginning, as Saint Matthew's account of our Good Shepherd's transfiguration shows.
While [Jesus] was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well-pleased. Listen to him!" (Matthew 17:5)
It is specifically this blessed relationship between our heavenly Father and his beloved Son that serves as the basis for any blessed relationship we might enjoy between each of us and our Redeemer. The love and grace and kindness within the Trinity is the foundation upon which salvation is set. This Christ reveals as he announces:
I am the Good Shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me: because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father." (John 10:14-18)
The world today needs to hear these clear words of Christ. Your neighbor needs to hear these clear words of Christ. You and I need to hear these clear words of Christ and keep them treasured in our hearts today and every day. To the fatherless, to the widowed, to the sick and dying, to the prisoner, to the despairing, to the lonely, to the neglected -- to the sinner -- Christ has something very definite to say: "I am the Good Shepherd. ... And I lay down my life for the sheep."
The Shepherd is the Good Shepherd because only he truly cares for the sheep. Only he truly cares because only he willingly, voluntarily leaves the glories of heaven to lay down his own life for such and undeserving flock of wayward and wandering sheep.
Saint John says it beautifully when he writes these inspired words:
God's love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live trough him. In this is love, no that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1John 4:9-10)
How do we know the Good Shepherd's voice in the midst of all the other voices calling us to follow? The voice of the Good Shepherd is the voice of the one who defines true care for the dirty, tired and helpless sheep. The Good Shepherd's staff is held by arms with pierced wrists. The Good Shepherd leads his flock to green pastures with pierced feet. The Good Shepherd is the crucified and risen shepherd -- crucified and risen for the poor sheep.
Five hundred years ago, Martin Luther said it this way, "The only duty of a Christian is to know Christ aright." This is the life-long task of the Christian Church on earth. This is the life-long task of this congregation and each one of us here this morning: to know the real Good Shepherd; to know the true Shepherd's true voice, that voice that spoke over us when we first believed.
I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Behold, I freely give
The living water, thirsty one; stoop down and drink and live.
I came to Jesus, and I drank of that life-giving stream;
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, and now I live in him.
The Shepherd has come and spoke to us with water and his Word. The Shepherd comes and speaks to us through the pages of the Holy Bible. The Shepherd comes to speak over bread and wine laid upon his altar, that his flock may feed upon his very body and blood.
Yes, we have been baptized into the Good Shepherd. Our ears have been baptized and brought to life, and now we are able to hear the voice of our Master. Our ears have been washed with his Word and now we are able to hear the voice of Jesus calling us to follow wherever he may graciously lead. In faith we now hear him as he comes this morning and says, "I am the Good Shepherd. ... And I lay down my life for the sheep."
And, in response, we say back to him, "Yes, you are my Good Shepherd, for you laid down my life for me."
A pastor once wrote:
... even though I must suffer death and all kinds of misfortune, I will not let that thwart my faith. I know and hear and stay close to his voice! For even as a shepherd tenderly calls his little sheep, so Christ also encourages me. "I am your shepherd. I have laid down my life for you. I died for you!" This is the word I hear and believe. This is my one sure guarantee that he knows me and I know him. ...
Never doubt, therefore, that when a person is baptized, they are as lovely and pure in God's sight as is the dear sun, no sin remaining, nothing but eternal righteousness. Christ himself spoke that way. "He who believes and is baptized shall be saved." But this, of course, cannot be outwardly observed. Regardless, however, it's true, provided we abide with the word and the voice of the Shepherd. Everything depends, therefore, on our holding fast to the Word ... .
Those words, written by Martin Luther to the flock over 460 years ago are as true today as they were then. Until Christ comes again, it is all about the voice of the Good Shepherd. For wherever the Word of the Shepherd is, there is his flock, the Church. Therefore the Reformers could joyfully confess that even "a seven-year child knows what the Church is, namely, holy believers and sheep who hear the voice of their Shepherd." (Smalcald Articles 3.12.2)
This age continues in its parent's footsteps of fall prey to false shepherds who ravage the flock and entice away any from the flock who begin to doubt in Christ the Shepherd's call, and the results are not pretty. One example stands out.
Years ago, a man journeyed throughout the land, preaching that he was the promised good shepherd, teaching a new religion that exposed the decay and hypocrisy of society while preaching hope of a restored life in the kingdom of God. For years this shepherd called people to follow him and become disciples of his flock. He promised the thousands he prosteletized, "I can be your shepherd, and my father can be your higher shepherd."
The man to whom I'm referring is Marshall Applewhite, co-leader of the religious group known as "Heaven's Gate." This shepherd led his flock to worship him as the great shepherd and savior, to devote themselves to his seductive teachings, and to blindly follow him as he jumped off the cliff of despair and darkness. This infamous shepherd promised to care for the sheep and to give them life, but instead poisoned the herd with a hypnotizing mix of empty promises and misleading words.
Again, Luther:
Recognizing a true christian, therefore, involves far more than outward appearances; it's a matter of hearing the Word. That's exactly how it is with a little sheep. It's very life depends upon hearing. If it doesn't hear the [true] Shepherd's voice, the wolves will soon be there. Without the Shepherd's voice, all joy and assurance vanish and only fear and trembling remain.
That's how it is also with a Christian. If he looses the Word, all comfort is gone. But as long as he is faithful to the Word, he will behold Christ his Shepherd, and therefore everything Christ has earned and promised him, namely, forgiveness of sins and eternal life.
And this enables [a Christian] to live out his life in full and certain hope. He eats, drinks, works, does what he is told to do, yes, will even gladly suffer whatever is laid upon him. He keeps his ears wide open for his Shepherd's voice and more and more trains himself not to judge according to what he sees and feels but solely according to the sound of the Shepherd's voice, "I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep."
This morning the Good Shepherd comes to his own. He comes and speaks, and his sheep hear his voice and follow, living with is Word in their ears and in their hearts, repeating it to themselves and to God and to their neighbor.
Hear again these precious words of Christ. Memorize them. Tuck them into your heart. Hold tight to them every day of your life. Remind yourself of them when you wake up and when you go to sleep.
"I am the Good Shepherd, for I laid down my life for you."
I heard the voice of Jesus say, "I am this dark world's light;
Look unto me, your morn shall rise, And all your day be bright."
I looked to Jesus, and I found in him my star, my sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk till trav'ling days are done.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Prepared Host and Unprepared Guests (Luke 22:7-20)
In the name of Jesus
Dear Brothers and Sisters Washed and Fed by Christ:
The diagnosis of our age: an insatiable appetite for everything this very minute. From instant success to instant potatoes, we live on having what we want and having it right now. The world today wants to push a button or swipe a card or grab an item off the shelf and get on with it. What was quick ten years ago is cruel and unusual punishment today. Less than thirty years ago we use to turn on the television three or four minutes before the hour to give time for the television tube to warm up. Now our plasma screens are on standby mode 24/7 -- just waiting for us to flick the switch. Instant on. Instant readiness. Instant availability. And the consequences of our desire to have everything effortlessly within our grasp at a moment's notice? We have become a people that know much too little about proper preparation. We know less and less about get everything ready when it comes to our careers, our adulthood, our parenthood, our meals and our holidays. We have forgotten what's all involved in laying the groundwork as a family member, an employee, a citizen, a Christian. We are under constant temptation to trade in our garden hoe for a magic wand and an empty promise.
It may be an honest athlete, artisan, or musician who reminds us that things don't usually appear out of nowhere without some kind of preparation. Fame, talent, skill, accomplishment and achievement? Not without hard workouts; not without daily struggles and setbacks; not without countless hours of exercise and training and practice and callouses and sweat. Not without weeks and months and years of sacrifice.
The human disease of instant gratification that we all suffer under is, however, nothing new. Our first parents knew a little about trying to rub a lamp and get three instant wishes as they pushed aside trust in God's good and gracious will for a fast chance at having their needs met. And so the plague of instant gratification entered our very DNA. No one needs to train any of us to have it and have it now. It comes out of our fallen mouth and darkened mind and sinful heart naturally enough. Curved by sin into ourselves, we would rather take a chance on the lottery than putting bread on the table using the skills and energies to plan and plant, weed and water.
And this afternoon we look back on our lives and see our daily struggle to delay our own instant gratification for something greater down the road -- for us, for our families, for our society, for the next generations of Bible-believing, Christ-centered, Sacrament-receiving Christians.
No wonder why Advent is a season in the church year that fewer Christians are willing to observe; why more and more congregations want less and less to do with the reserved and seemingly restrictive nature of Lent. Forty days of preparation has been twisted into forty days of convincing ourselves we deserve the up-and-coming rewards of Easter. Times and seasons of preparation are dinosaurs among a people who have taken the lead of the Prodigal Son and cashed it all in for a chance at paradise now.
And so it was for the Twelve -- the twelve tribes. They wanted the promise without the accompanying preparation. They drooled over their inheritance of land and children and a name for themselves without being readied to receive it rightly. And so they grumbled in the wilderness right out of the gates, especially when it came to waiting for a warm bath followed by a grilled piece of meat. The result? Scripture reports that not many of them accepted God's appointed time of preparation. Too many died before they saw what was promised, fighting against a time, a season of training God had placed before them to get them into shape for the heavenly things to come.
Things didn't fare any better for the Twelve disciples. They desired the Passover meal before even having their feet properly washed. They clamored for the roasted lamb and the padded reclining couches, the premium wine and the opportunity to revel in their special status as the entourage of the One who would put the political and religious leaders in their place and, in the blink of an eye, usher in a new age of greatness and glory. In their rush to the table they had pushed aside proper preparation. They had brought their dust-coated feet and sin-stained souls to the table -- to the Passover table, for a meal commemorating God's saving work in Egypt after he had made everything ready.
Now Jesus looked upon this motley band of thick-headed and hard-hearted men more concerned at their place at the table than what Jesus was now settting before them. Even after three years of following, they continued to be spiritually out-of-shape. These were the same disciples who would only hours later quarrel about who deserved to first summon the genie and demand their wish granted. (Luke 22:24-27)
Yes, Jesus could have called the whole thing off that night in the upper room. He could have pulled the plug and sent them away from the table unwashed and unfed. Jesus had every right to say, "You have been with me so long and yet you still will not take the time to properly prepare for this most sacred night? Only those in Egypt who received my instructions, my words of preparation in faith were spared. But tonight, your hearts are pre-occupied with anticipation of what you believe lies just around the corner. Positions and power as princes in my Kingdom -- all without proper preparation. And what John said at the Jordan I now say to each of you. In repentance look to me and what I have made ready for you. Place your trust in what I am finally bringing to completion this night."
And how have we prepared for this Passover afternoon? How many corners have we tried to cut in anticipation of the glories of this year's Easter Sunday? Have we lived our spiritual life by the bell of the microwave oven? Have you and I taken the time for daily devotion to God's life-giving Word? Have you paused from the demands of this darkened world to allow God to prepare you for the heavenly things to come through his services and hymns and Word? Have you shut out the empty promises of the world to take to heart the faithful promises given to the twelve tribes of Israel in Egypt and the twelve disciples in the upper room? Have you truly disciplined yourself as a true disciple? Scripture's diagnosis: we have all failed to properly prepare and make ready for fellowship with God and the One he has sent. We too have been found attempting to sit down with our Maker and Redeemer with the dust of sin clinging not only to our skin but to our very soul. We are exposed as ill-prepared to receive what God has planned from before the foundations of the world. In the words of our corporate confession, we have examined ourselves according to God's holy Word and found in ourselves nothing but sin and death, from which we cannot set ourselves free. How can our fallen hearts prepare for such a night as this? What shall we contribute in the presence of God and his Anointed?
(Luke 22:7-13 ESV)
On Maundy Thursday we see even more clearly that through the entire history of salvation, only Jesus and his Father in heaven came ready to the table of salvation. Only they had prepared and made everything ready for our salvation -- even before the foundations of the world were set. The Gospel promise in the Garden, the saving of Noah by boat and bow, the sparing of Isaac and the baring of God's almighty hand at the Red Sea, David's psalms and Solomon's temple, the Word of the prophets, the return from exile -- all moved towards preparing the children of God for the fulfilment of his promises and the completion of our redemption -- beginning this night, around a table in an upper room. The prepared host and his empty-handed guests. That summarizes Jesus' entire ministry. "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with him!" was the charge laid against him by the religious leaders -- a charge that only faith can embrace.
And now on this last Thursday before his suffering and death, Jesus prepared the meal and prepared his guests in a way only he could. Taking a basin and water and binding himself to the towel that would take away their stains, Jesus washed his own. (John 13:1-17 ESV) These followers were not baptized into their own good intentions, they were washed into Christ and prepared to commune with him at his holy Table. In faith they accepted this washing and, trusting in his words, received this bread and wine, received this new covenant meal, from the hands of the One sent to complete it and fulfill it and give it its final meaning.
Jesus has prepared everything. The bread and wine, his very body and blood as the sacrifice that removes our sin and does what we are unable to do: prepare us for this life, our own death and eternal glories with him in heaven. Come, in faith receive him who prepared everything and gave everything for your salvation. Come to this feast of forgiveness and allow God's wrath over you to pass.
In the name of Christ, the Passover Lamb. Amen
Dear Brothers and Sisters Washed and Fed by Christ:
The diagnosis of our age: an insatiable appetite for everything this very minute. From instant success to instant potatoes, we live on having what we want and having it right now. The world today wants to push a button or swipe a card or grab an item off the shelf and get on with it. What was quick ten years ago is cruel and unusual punishment today. Less than thirty years ago we use to turn on the television three or four minutes before the hour to give time for the television tube to warm up. Now our plasma screens are on standby mode 24/7 -- just waiting for us to flick the switch. Instant on. Instant readiness. Instant availability. And the consequences of our desire to have everything effortlessly within our grasp at a moment's notice? We have become a people that know much too little about proper preparation. We know less and less about get everything ready when it comes to our careers, our adulthood, our parenthood, our meals and our holidays. We have forgotten what's all involved in laying the groundwork as a family member, an employee, a citizen, a Christian. We are under constant temptation to trade in our garden hoe for a magic wand and an empty promise.
It may be an honest athlete, artisan, or musician who reminds us that things don't usually appear out of nowhere without some kind of preparation. Fame, talent, skill, accomplishment and achievement? Not without hard workouts; not without daily struggles and setbacks; not without countless hours of exercise and training and practice and callouses and sweat. Not without weeks and months and years of sacrifice.
The human disease of instant gratification that we all suffer under is, however, nothing new. Our first parents knew a little about trying to rub a lamp and get three instant wishes as they pushed aside trust in God's good and gracious will for a fast chance at having their needs met. And so the plague of instant gratification entered our very DNA. No one needs to train any of us to have it and have it now. It comes out of our fallen mouth and darkened mind and sinful heart naturally enough. Curved by sin into ourselves, we would rather take a chance on the lottery than putting bread on the table using the skills and energies to plan and plant, weed and water.
And this afternoon we look back on our lives and see our daily struggle to delay our own instant gratification for something greater down the road -- for us, for our families, for our society, for the next generations of Bible-believing, Christ-centered, Sacrament-receiving Christians.
No wonder why Advent is a season in the church year that fewer Christians are willing to observe; why more and more congregations want less and less to do with the reserved and seemingly restrictive nature of Lent. Forty days of preparation has been twisted into forty days of convincing ourselves we deserve the up-and-coming rewards of Easter. Times and seasons of preparation are dinosaurs among a people who have taken the lead of the Prodigal Son and cashed it all in for a chance at paradise now.
And so it was for the Twelve -- the twelve tribes. They wanted the promise without the accompanying preparation. They drooled over their inheritance of land and children and a name for themselves without being readied to receive it rightly. And so they grumbled in the wilderness right out of the gates, especially when it came to waiting for a warm bath followed by a grilled piece of meat. The result? Scripture reports that not many of them accepted God's appointed time of preparation. Too many died before they saw what was promised, fighting against a time, a season of training God had placed before them to get them into shape for the heavenly things to come.
Things didn't fare any better for the Twelve disciples. They desired the Passover meal before even having their feet properly washed. They clamored for the roasted lamb and the padded reclining couches, the premium wine and the opportunity to revel in their special status as the entourage of the One who would put the political and religious leaders in their place and, in the blink of an eye, usher in a new age of greatness and glory. In their rush to the table they had pushed aside proper preparation. They had brought their dust-coated feet and sin-stained souls to the table -- to the Passover table, for a meal commemorating God's saving work in Egypt after he had made everything ready.
Now Jesus looked upon this motley band of thick-headed and hard-hearted men more concerned at their place at the table than what Jesus was now settting before them. Even after three years of following, they continued to be spiritually out-of-shape. These were the same disciples who would only hours later quarrel about who deserved to first summon the genie and demand their wish granted. (Luke 22:24-27)
Yes, Jesus could have called the whole thing off that night in the upper room. He could have pulled the plug and sent them away from the table unwashed and unfed. Jesus had every right to say, "You have been with me so long and yet you still will not take the time to properly prepare for this most sacred night? Only those in Egypt who received my instructions, my words of preparation in faith were spared. But tonight, your hearts are pre-occupied with anticipation of what you believe lies just around the corner. Positions and power as princes in my Kingdom -- all without proper preparation. And what John said at the Jordan I now say to each of you. In repentance look to me and what I have made ready for you. Place your trust in what I am finally bringing to completion this night."
And how have we prepared for this Passover afternoon? How many corners have we tried to cut in anticipation of the glories of this year's Easter Sunday? Have we lived our spiritual life by the bell of the microwave oven? Have you and I taken the time for daily devotion to God's life-giving Word? Have you paused from the demands of this darkened world to allow God to prepare you for the heavenly things to come through his services and hymns and Word? Have you shut out the empty promises of the world to take to heart the faithful promises given to the twelve tribes of Israel in Egypt and the twelve disciples in the upper room? Have you truly disciplined yourself as a true disciple? Scripture's diagnosis: we have all failed to properly prepare and make ready for fellowship with God and the One he has sent. We too have been found attempting to sit down with our Maker and Redeemer with the dust of sin clinging not only to our skin but to our very soul. We are exposed as ill-prepared to receive what God has planned from before the foundations of the world. In the words of our corporate confession, we have examined ourselves according to God's holy Word and found in ourselves nothing but sin and death, from which we cannot set ourselves free. How can our fallen hearts prepare for such a night as this? What shall we contribute in the presence of God and his Anointed?
(Luke 22:7-13 ESV)
On Maundy Thursday we see even more clearly that through the entire history of salvation, only Jesus and his Father in heaven came ready to the table of salvation. Only they had prepared and made everything ready for our salvation -- even before the foundations of the world were set. The Gospel promise in the Garden, the saving of Noah by boat and bow, the sparing of Isaac and the baring of God's almighty hand at the Red Sea, David's psalms and Solomon's temple, the Word of the prophets, the return from exile -- all moved towards preparing the children of God for the fulfilment of his promises and the completion of our redemption -- beginning this night, around a table in an upper room. The prepared host and his empty-handed guests. That summarizes Jesus' entire ministry. "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with him!" was the charge laid against him by the religious leaders -- a charge that only faith can embrace.
And now on this last Thursday before his suffering and death, Jesus prepared the meal and prepared his guests in a way only he could. Taking a basin and water and binding himself to the towel that would take away their stains, Jesus washed his own. (John 13:1-17 ESV) These followers were not baptized into their own good intentions, they were washed into Christ and prepared to commune with him at his holy Table. In faith they accepted this washing and, trusting in his words, received this bread and wine, received this new covenant meal, from the hands of the One sent to complete it and fulfill it and give it its final meaning.
Jesus has prepared everything. The bread and wine, his very body and blood as the sacrifice that removes our sin and does what we are unable to do: prepare us for this life, our own death and eternal glories with him in heaven. Come, in faith receive him who prepared everything and gave everything for your salvation. Come to this feast of forgiveness and allow God's wrath over you to pass.
In the name of Christ, the Passover Lamb. Amen
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
The Parable of the Wicked Servants (Luke 20:9-20)
In the name of Jesus
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:
Chronologically, the Gospel for this Sunday belongs after next Sunday, after Palm Sunday. So what's it doing on this side of the palm waving and hosanna shouting? Why has the Christian Church (the historical, creedal, liturgical Christian Church) placed this section of the Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke here, this morning, on the Fifth Sunday in Lent? That's a good question to ask this morning as it is on any Sunday in the season of Lent. "How is God in Christ through the Holy Spirit using this passage his Word to better prepare me for the pivotal events just around the corner, beginning with Palm Sunday and cumulating on Good Friday and Easter Sunday? As we heard on Ash Wednesday: "Let us pray that our dear Father in heaven, for the sake of his beloved Son and in the power of the Holy Spirit, might richly bless this Lententide for us so that we may come to Easter with glad hearts and keep the feast in sincerity and truth." (Lutheran Service Book Agenda 483)
May the same Spirit that inspired the prophets and apostles attend us this morning as we hear, read, learn and take to heart the Parable of the Wicked Tenants.
The situation? A day or two after Jesus had arrived at his destination - his final destination. He hadn't left his carry-on luggage on the plane for a short pause before resuming his flight again. This time he knew he wouldn't be leaving Jerusalem to continue another three years of his public ministry. It would all end here. It would all be fulfilled now. And the only luggage he would carry out of the holy city this time around would be what he lugged to the hill outside the city gates: the crosspiece of his won cross and a plackard around his neck announcing the charges laid against him.
Jesus had arrived with fanfare, and although this week he spent the nights outside Jerusalem's walls, every day he walked the city streets, wrapping up his three year ministry in and around the hub of the city's social and political and religious life: the Temple. Jesus had hinted at the finality of this visit to Jerusalem when he had repeated the same action with which he had inaugurated his three year ministry - his cleansing of the Temple.
And now, in a way that would cap his entire public teaching, he would announce to the crowds who followed him one of the most unexpected, one of the most shocking parables that had ever come from his lips: the Parable of the Wicked Tenants (Luke 20:9-20)
Well, that parable didn't go over very well . . . . . . Maybe Jesus should have stuck with the sayings about the lillies of the valley or the birds of the air. But now the situation was so much more critical. The time was so much shorter than it had been even a few weeks ago. Everything was now so close at hand. Jesus knew his "earthly story with a heavenly meaning" would not be joyfully received by the vast majority of the Jewish religious leaders, but even though he had meant it as a clear and unavoidable warning for them, his heart was now upon those he wished to strengthen and shepherd, those who were already ripe to produce and place before God's emmisary the fruits of true faith.
We are told in verse seventeen that Jesus looked straight at the crowd. He looked with eyes of compassion and mercy and self-sacrificing concern. And it was to their Word of God-generated faith that he ultimately addressed this parable.
Now at first blush, the meaning given in this parable seems pretty cut and dried. We could outline it in three simple lines: Bad people do bad things to good people sent by the King. Bad people do even worse things to an even beter person sent by the King. Good king comes and wipes bad people out. Fairness and justice prevail. But is this really where Jesus is going with this parable?
Yes, the reaction of the religious leaders who were listening in seems pretty predictable, but wht of the crowd's reaction? "Lord, fobid it!" "May it never be!" "Tell me it will never happen like this!" Why all the shock and inability to accept this parable as a window into the realities of salvation? Because it wasn't all justice and fairness. Something in this parable was far from just and far from fair. That's why the parable took the crowd's breath away, and that's why this parable should do the same with each of us.
Now Jesus would have gotten a much more successful reaction from both the Pharisees and the crowd if he would have first formed a focus group or took a poll, but the script had already been written, the die had been cast long, long ago, back in the Garden with Adam and Eve. God had promised these two and all their children that the Seed of the woman would crush the head of the serpent despite the fact that the serpent would bruise the heel of the Man. Jesus was announcing in this parable the way in which this promise would all work out, and it is to that "way" that the crowd drops its jaw.
Jesus is announcing that he is completing what is lacking in Isaiah's "Song of the Vineyard" (Isaiah 5:1-7). Here Israel is depicted as the vineyard that received grace upon grace, but, nevertheless, produced only bitter fruit for the Lord of the Vineyard. The Parable of the Wicked Tenants simply unfolds what Isaiah had already proclaimed. In offering this parable, Jesus completes his public ministry the same way he began it in Nazareth: in pointing to the words of the prophet Isaiah and announcing: "In me this Word shall be fulfilled."
Jesus tells this parable to frame his entire ministry. In it he gives his followers a clear picture of how his followers are to approach his arrest, his trial, his suffering, his death, and his resurrection, ascension and second coming. This is not a parable of fairness and the world's brand of justice, but a parable that reveals the twin themes of humiliation and exultation, rejection and fulfillment. Here we see the unexpected reversal of fortunes as God's redeeming plan unfolds toward its completion in Christ.
More shocking are two elements that make this parable unique to Christ and his unique mission of redemption: the willing desire of the servants to carry out what they've been called by the King to do, and the irrational, reckless, seemingly wasteful will of the Lord of the Vineyard.
Countless Old Testament prophets went out, sent by God, not because they were so blindly obedient but because they put their faith in the irrational, wreckless, seemingly wastelful behavior of their Lord. The prophet's behavior was a direct result of faith saying, "Despite all appearances, it must happen this way. This is the way my Lord's plan of salvation will be fulfilled." In this way the Old Testament prophets foreshadow the sending of the Son, the beloved. He was finally called to go, and knowing full well the probable outcome, he went, whole-heartedly trusting the Word and will of his Father. Jesus rode into Jerusalem resolute. He set his face towards the vineyard and he never looked back.
As Jesus neared the walls of Jerusalem, he undoubtedly knew this was the place where palm branches and cloaks would be strewn for his triumphant arrival. He also knew, however, this was the place where the prophets before him had been dragged and thrown out as they announced, "Give to the Lord of the Vineyard the first fruits of his harvest."
And what were those firstfruits desired by the servants and their King? For a clear understanding we go to the greatest of the prophets, the last of the prophets, John the Baptist. At the Jordan River, John addresses unbelief and faith, judgment and grace, the present and future tenants (Gentiles were derogatorily refered to as "stones" by the Jewish contemporaries of John and Jesus) of his vineyard in these words:
And [John] went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet, “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. ’ ” Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough places shall become level ways, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
He said therefore to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
And the crowds asked him, “What then shall we do?” And he answered them, “Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise.” Tax collectors also came to be baptized and said to him, “Teacher, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Collect no more than you are authorized to do.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” (Luke 3:3-14 ESV)
The fruits desired by the Lord of the Vineyard? The first fruits of faith: repentance. That's the major theme of this parable, and that's a major theme of the Lenten season and our entire life as believing Christians.
But not all to whom Christ came were interested in giving the Lord of the Vineyard such fruit. Through the Old Testament prophets and John the Baptist — and ultimately through Jesus himself — God came looking for what was "meet, right and salutary" and found, instead, bloodshed. God came looking for what was proper and true and found only the cry of his mistreated servants (Isaiah 5:7).
On this Fifth Sunday in Lent we hear again that whenever God's Word is sent to us, that divine Word creates a "critical time," a "right season" for the fruits of repentance and faith.
Why did Jesus, hours before proclaiming this parable, weep over the inhabitants of this God-chosen city?
And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.” (Luke 19:41-44 ESV)
They will not, they refuse to recognize the appointed time of God's visitation to the Vineyard in the person of his Son. Lent is to teach us and further our conviction that when it comes to our redemption, there has been and will never be any more critical season than this last journey made by God's Son to his wayward and rebellious people. In this passage Jesus is announcing that the critical season for faith and repentance has ultimately arrived. Now Jesus will take upon himself all the beating and the shameful treatment and abuse and rejection of every prophet sent before him (Romans 15:3). Jesus willingly rides into Jerusalem. God does the unthinkable, the reckless, the incomprehensible. He sends his only-begotten Son, his beloved Son, to the vineyard.
In an act that will fulfill the sacrifice of Abraham's only-begotten, Jesus will be offered up just outside the city walls for the undeserving, unfaithful tenants as a testimony to the kind of treatment Jesus would receive (Hebrews 13:11-12).
It is no coincidence that Christ asks the crowd the same question the king asks in the parable: "What, therefore, shall the Lord of the Vineyard do with those wicked tenants?" Unbelief and rebellion, will, after the time of grace has ended, be done away with, that faith and its fruits might have opportunity to appear. This is the same saving work God has begun in you, at your Baptism. The drowning of the old, rebel nature, that a new, fruit-producing nature might arise and live to God.
This is how the Lord of the Vineyard saves: exultation through humiliation, redemption through rejection, the bringing down of those who believed they had plenty of their own self-produced good works to parade before God, and the lifting up of those who confess they have nothing in their hands save their many sins, all through the lifting up of the Son upon the cross.
In this season of Lent we hear of our Lord's agony in the garden, his shameful treatment at the hands of evil men, and we cry out, "Let it never be!" "God forbid that such an unfair, unjust, unacceptable thing happen!" "So many mistreated prophets sent! And now, the spotless sacrifice comes to be bound and shorn and killed."
Only God-given faith can confess a week before Palm Sunday — Passion Sunday — that the sending of God's beloved was the reckless act of a reckless God. But such is his grace for me and all people. He loved me that much. And for that I will respond freely in repentance and faith and a heart-felt "Amen" to the sacrifice of his very life outside of the holy city.
Jesus comes to you this morning and announces through this surprising parable that only his final journey to Jerusalem, only his own suffering and death, only his sacrifice can rightly interpret this quite disturbing parable (or any other passage of Holy Scripture).
You see, Jesus' rejection will be the very means by which he will become the Cornerstone upon which God's eternal kingdom of salvation will be built. The Stone's rejection by the tenant-builders is the Stone's own glory — its exultation — as he bears the weight of the entire building, of all the building's stones.
Jesus has come to bear the weight of my sins and your sins and the sins of antire fallen people. Let him bear your burden. Let him carry your load. Trust in him and his rejection for you, and with it offer to God the fruits of faith: repentance and trust that truly believes, "Though Christ breaks, he will heal; though he drowns me, he will raise me up to eternal life."
In his abundant mercy and overflowing grace, may God continue to prepare us through his Word for the coming of his very Son to receive not only our firstfruits, but our very souls into his eternal care.
In the name of Jesus. Amen
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:
Chronologically, the Gospel for this Sunday belongs after next Sunday, after Palm Sunday. So what's it doing on this side of the palm waving and hosanna shouting? Why has the Christian Church (the historical, creedal, liturgical Christian Church) placed this section of the Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke here, this morning, on the Fifth Sunday in Lent? That's a good question to ask this morning as it is on any Sunday in the season of Lent. "How is God in Christ through the Holy Spirit using this passage his Word to better prepare me for the pivotal events just around the corner, beginning with Palm Sunday and cumulating on Good Friday and Easter Sunday? As we heard on Ash Wednesday: "Let us pray that our dear Father in heaven, for the sake of his beloved Son and in the power of the Holy Spirit, might richly bless this Lententide for us so that we may come to Easter with glad hearts and keep the feast in sincerity and truth." (Lutheran Service Book Agenda 483)
May the same Spirit that inspired the prophets and apostles attend us this morning as we hear, read, learn and take to heart the Parable of the Wicked Tenants.
The situation? A day or two after Jesus had arrived at his destination - his final destination. He hadn't left his carry-on luggage on the plane for a short pause before resuming his flight again. This time he knew he wouldn't be leaving Jerusalem to continue another three years of his public ministry. It would all end here. It would all be fulfilled now. And the only luggage he would carry out of the holy city this time around would be what he lugged to the hill outside the city gates: the crosspiece of his won cross and a plackard around his neck announcing the charges laid against him.
Jesus had arrived with fanfare, and although this week he spent the nights outside Jerusalem's walls, every day he walked the city streets, wrapping up his three year ministry in and around the hub of the city's social and political and religious life: the Temple. Jesus had hinted at the finality of this visit to Jerusalem when he had repeated the same action with which he had inaugurated his three year ministry - his cleansing of the Temple.
And now, in a way that would cap his entire public teaching, he would announce to the crowds who followed him one of the most unexpected, one of the most shocking parables that had ever come from his lips: the Parable of the Wicked Tenants (Luke 20:9-20)
Well, that parable didn't go over very well . . . . . . Maybe Jesus should have stuck with the sayings about the lillies of the valley or the birds of the air. But now the situation was so much more critical. The time was so much shorter than it had been even a few weeks ago. Everything was now so close at hand. Jesus knew his "earthly story with a heavenly meaning" would not be joyfully received by the vast majority of the Jewish religious leaders, but even though he had meant it as a clear and unavoidable warning for them, his heart was now upon those he wished to strengthen and shepherd, those who were already ripe to produce and place before God's emmisary the fruits of true faith.
We are told in verse seventeen that Jesus looked straight at the crowd. He looked with eyes of compassion and mercy and self-sacrificing concern. And it was to their Word of God-generated faith that he ultimately addressed this parable.
Now at first blush, the meaning given in this parable seems pretty cut and dried. We could outline it in three simple lines: Bad people do bad things to good people sent by the King. Bad people do even worse things to an even beter person sent by the King. Good king comes and wipes bad people out. Fairness and justice prevail. But is this really where Jesus is going with this parable?
Yes, the reaction of the religious leaders who were listening in seems pretty predictable, but wht of the crowd's reaction? "Lord, fobid it!" "May it never be!" "Tell me it will never happen like this!" Why all the shock and inability to accept this parable as a window into the realities of salvation? Because it wasn't all justice and fairness. Something in this parable was far from just and far from fair. That's why the parable took the crowd's breath away, and that's why this parable should do the same with each of us.
Now Jesus would have gotten a much more successful reaction from both the Pharisees and the crowd if he would have first formed a focus group or took a poll, but the script had already been written, the die had been cast long, long ago, back in the Garden with Adam and Eve. God had promised these two and all their children that the Seed of the woman would crush the head of the serpent despite the fact that the serpent would bruise the heel of the Man. Jesus was announcing in this parable the way in which this promise would all work out, and it is to that "way" that the crowd drops its jaw.
Jesus is announcing that he is completing what is lacking in Isaiah's "Song of the Vineyard" (Isaiah 5:1-7). Here Israel is depicted as the vineyard that received grace upon grace, but, nevertheless, produced only bitter fruit for the Lord of the Vineyard. The Parable of the Wicked Tenants simply unfolds what Isaiah had already proclaimed. In offering this parable, Jesus completes his public ministry the same way he began it in Nazareth: in pointing to the words of the prophet Isaiah and announcing: "In me this Word shall be fulfilled."
Jesus tells this parable to frame his entire ministry. In it he gives his followers a clear picture of how his followers are to approach his arrest, his trial, his suffering, his death, and his resurrection, ascension and second coming. This is not a parable of fairness and the world's brand of justice, but a parable that reveals the twin themes of humiliation and exultation, rejection and fulfillment. Here we see the unexpected reversal of fortunes as God's redeeming plan unfolds toward its completion in Christ.
More shocking are two elements that make this parable unique to Christ and his unique mission of redemption: the willing desire of the servants to carry out what they've been called by the King to do, and the irrational, reckless, seemingly wasteful will of the Lord of the Vineyard.
Countless Old Testament prophets went out, sent by God, not because they were so blindly obedient but because they put their faith in the irrational, wreckless, seemingly wastelful behavior of their Lord. The prophet's behavior was a direct result of faith saying, "Despite all appearances, it must happen this way. This is the way my Lord's plan of salvation will be fulfilled." In this way the Old Testament prophets foreshadow the sending of the Son, the beloved. He was finally called to go, and knowing full well the probable outcome, he went, whole-heartedly trusting the Word and will of his Father. Jesus rode into Jerusalem resolute. He set his face towards the vineyard and he never looked back.
As Jesus neared the walls of Jerusalem, he undoubtedly knew this was the place where palm branches and cloaks would be strewn for his triumphant arrival. He also knew, however, this was the place where the prophets before him had been dragged and thrown out as they announced, "Give to the Lord of the Vineyard the first fruits of his harvest."
And what were those firstfruits desired by the servants and their King? For a clear understanding we go to the greatest of the prophets, the last of the prophets, John the Baptist. At the Jordan River, John addresses unbelief and faith, judgment and grace, the present and future tenants (Gentiles were derogatorily refered to as "stones" by the Jewish contemporaries of John and Jesus) of his vineyard in these words:
And [John] went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet, “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. ’ ” Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough places shall become level ways, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
He said therefore to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
And the crowds asked him, “What then shall we do?” And he answered them, “Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise.” Tax collectors also came to be baptized and said to him, “Teacher, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Collect no more than you are authorized to do.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” (Luke 3:3-14 ESV)
The fruits desired by the Lord of the Vineyard? The first fruits of faith: repentance. That's the major theme of this parable, and that's a major theme of the Lenten season and our entire life as believing Christians.
But not all to whom Christ came were interested in giving the Lord of the Vineyard such fruit. Through the Old Testament prophets and John the Baptist — and ultimately through Jesus himself — God came looking for what was "meet, right and salutary" and found, instead, bloodshed. God came looking for what was proper and true and found only the cry of his mistreated servants (Isaiah 5:7).
On this Fifth Sunday in Lent we hear again that whenever God's Word is sent to us, that divine Word creates a "critical time," a "right season" for the fruits of repentance and faith.
Why did Jesus, hours before proclaiming this parable, weep over the inhabitants of this God-chosen city?
And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.” (Luke 19:41-44 ESV)
They will not, they refuse to recognize the appointed time of God's visitation to the Vineyard in the person of his Son. Lent is to teach us and further our conviction that when it comes to our redemption, there has been and will never be any more critical season than this last journey made by God's Son to his wayward and rebellious people. In this passage Jesus is announcing that the critical season for faith and repentance has ultimately arrived. Now Jesus will take upon himself all the beating and the shameful treatment and abuse and rejection of every prophet sent before him (Romans 15:3). Jesus willingly rides into Jerusalem. God does the unthinkable, the reckless, the incomprehensible. He sends his only-begotten Son, his beloved Son, to the vineyard.
In an act that will fulfill the sacrifice of Abraham's only-begotten, Jesus will be offered up just outside the city walls for the undeserving, unfaithful tenants as a testimony to the kind of treatment Jesus would receive (Hebrews 13:11-12).
It is no coincidence that Christ asks the crowd the same question the king asks in the parable: "What, therefore, shall the Lord of the Vineyard do with those wicked tenants?" Unbelief and rebellion, will, after the time of grace has ended, be done away with, that faith and its fruits might have opportunity to appear. This is the same saving work God has begun in you, at your Baptism. The drowning of the old, rebel nature, that a new, fruit-producing nature might arise and live to God.
This is how the Lord of the Vineyard saves: exultation through humiliation, redemption through rejection, the bringing down of those who believed they had plenty of their own self-produced good works to parade before God, and the lifting up of those who confess they have nothing in their hands save their many sins, all through the lifting up of the Son upon the cross.
In this season of Lent we hear of our Lord's agony in the garden, his shameful treatment at the hands of evil men, and we cry out, "Let it never be!" "God forbid that such an unfair, unjust, unacceptable thing happen!" "So many mistreated prophets sent! And now, the spotless sacrifice comes to be bound and shorn and killed."
Only God-given faith can confess a week before Palm Sunday — Passion Sunday — that the sending of God's beloved was the reckless act of a reckless God. But such is his grace for me and all people. He loved me that much. And for that I will respond freely in repentance and faith and a heart-felt "Amen" to the sacrifice of his very life outside of the holy city.
Jesus comes to you this morning and announces through this surprising parable that only his final journey to Jerusalem, only his own suffering and death, only his sacrifice can rightly interpret this quite disturbing parable (or any other passage of Holy Scripture).
You see, Jesus' rejection will be the very means by which he will become the Cornerstone upon which God's eternal kingdom of salvation will be built. The Stone's rejection by the tenant-builders is the Stone's own glory — its exultation — as he bears the weight of the entire building, of all the building's stones.
Jesus has come to bear the weight of my sins and your sins and the sins of antire fallen people. Let him bear your burden. Let him carry your load. Trust in him and his rejection for you, and with it offer to God the fruits of faith: repentance and trust that truly believes, "Though Christ breaks, he will heal; though he drowns me, he will raise me up to eternal life."
In his abundant mercy and overflowing grace, may God continue to prepare us through his Word for the coming of his very Son to receive not only our firstfruits, but our very souls into his eternal care.
In the name of Jesus. Amen
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Luther the Orange Monk Products Now Available
Point your browser to http://www.printfection.com/lutherstuff for products with my redo of Albrecht Durer's engraving as Martin Luther the monk.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Blessed to be a Blessing.
The Dead Sea is 48 miles long and between 3 and 11 miles wide. Noting lives in it. No plants and no fish. Technically, the Dead Sea is dead because the salt content of the body of water is almost six times that of the world's oceans. But how did it get that deadly? Has the Dead Sea always been a dead sea? Experts believe that long, long ago the Dead Sea was much bigger and much less salty, but even then it began suffering from a fatal flaw: while the Jordan River and some small canals feed into it, there is no outlet for the rainwater, carrying minerals from the surrounding mountains, to escape. The result: a slow, shrinking death as the only escape for the stagnant water is through evaporation.
Yes, the Dead Sea is great if you're merely afraid of drowning, but today it cannot sustain any form of life in its waters -- and so it is with any congregation that calls itself "Christian."
A few Sundays ago we hear of God continually coming to his chosen people, looking for the God-enabled fruit of repentance. To the tree's judgment, God didn't find any. Like the Dead Sea, the tree was found without any outlet to share the nutrients given it from the ground and in the air. It was an unfuitful tree beacuse it was a stingy tree. It drank in water and food from its roots and sunlight from its leaves, but kept all these blessed things to itself. No fruit. No sharing. No fruit of repentance and thanksgiving.
Christ has come to dig around our roots and aereate the ground, to fertilize the ground and water us with his Word. He comes to shine the bright beams of his mercy on our leaves and sprinkle us with the forgiveness of sins. He nurtures us and, sometimes, even prunes us that we might produce even more fruit.
Our Gracious Savior has poured out his lifeblood and given his all for us, even the gift of faith that believes and receives with joy and thanksgiving his unbelieveable, unreasonable, unimagined gifts.
And miracle of miracles, our Lord gives us the ability to reach out and share these treasures with others. He comes with the promise of breaking down the walls that make us a dead sea with no outlet to allow the waters of God's mercy to spill over into the lives of others.
I've served in congregations where God's chosen people have not allowed the Word of Christ to dwell in them richly and spill over into their families and neighbors and community. Congregations can give into the temptation of receiving the bounty of God's good and gracious gifts and then turning around and becoming stingy with sharing salvation with those who are in spiritually lifeless situations.
The pastors and the congregational leadership are committed to helping us as a church family stay grounded in the good soil of God's Word, drink in the life-giving food of eternal life, forgiveness of sins and salvation. Why? So that each of us, as God himself gives opportunity, can make a difference in this community and beyond by sharing the Gospel as freely as it has been shared with us.
Pray that, in the light of Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and Easter morning, we may, by God's all-sustaining grace, not become a Dead Sea, but move forward with courage to individually and corporately allow Christ to bubble up and spill over into the lives of others.
God promises that in Christ through his Spirit he will work in us faith and the fruits of faith through his Holy Word, Holy Baptism and the Lord's Supper. Don't hold back the work Christ desires to do through you become the stagnant pond. Place yourself where you will be blessed to be a blessing. See you at servies and study!
Yes, the Dead Sea is great if you're merely afraid of drowning, but today it cannot sustain any form of life in its waters -- and so it is with any congregation that calls itself "Christian."
A few Sundays ago we hear of God continually coming to his chosen people, looking for the God-enabled fruit of repentance. To the tree's judgment, God didn't find any. Like the Dead Sea, the tree was found without any outlet to share the nutrients given it from the ground and in the air. It was an unfuitful tree beacuse it was a stingy tree. It drank in water and food from its roots and sunlight from its leaves, but kept all these blessed things to itself. No fruit. No sharing. No fruit of repentance and thanksgiving.
Christ has come to dig around our roots and aereate the ground, to fertilize the ground and water us with his Word. He comes to shine the bright beams of his mercy on our leaves and sprinkle us with the forgiveness of sins. He nurtures us and, sometimes, even prunes us that we might produce even more fruit.
Our Gracious Savior has poured out his lifeblood and given his all for us, even the gift of faith that believes and receives with joy and thanksgiving his unbelieveable, unreasonable, unimagined gifts.
And miracle of miracles, our Lord gives us the ability to reach out and share these treasures with others. He comes with the promise of breaking down the walls that make us a dead sea with no outlet to allow the waters of God's mercy to spill over into the lives of others.
I've served in congregations where God's chosen people have not allowed the Word of Christ to dwell in them richly and spill over into their families and neighbors and community. Congregations can give into the temptation of receiving the bounty of God's good and gracious gifts and then turning around and becoming stingy with sharing salvation with those who are in spiritually lifeless situations.
The pastors and the congregational leadership are committed to helping us as a church family stay grounded in the good soil of God's Word, drink in the life-giving food of eternal life, forgiveness of sins and salvation. Why? So that each of us, as God himself gives opportunity, can make a difference in this community and beyond by sharing the Gospel as freely as it has been shared with us.
Pray that, in the light of Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and Easter morning, we may, by God's all-sustaining grace, not become a Dead Sea, but move forward with courage to individually and corporately allow Christ to bubble up and spill over into the lives of others.
God promises that in Christ through his Spirit he will work in us faith and the fruits of faith through his Holy Word, Holy Baptism and the Lord's Supper. Don't hold back the work Christ desires to do through you become the stagnant pond. Place yourself where you will be blessed to be a blessing. See you at servies and study!
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
"I must go my way." (Luke 13:32a, 33)
In the name of Jesus
Dear brothers and sisters redeemed by Christ:
"And [Jesus] said to [the Pharisees], 'I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following." (Luke 13:32a, 33 ESV)
Feigning care for the well-being of their enemy, the religious leaders advise Jesus to run away from the Holy city. "Save yourself." they command. "Herod, the one who threw God's final prophet into prison and delivered his head on a plate, Herod, who comes from the family of ruthless rulers bent on keeping their power at all costs, Herod, supporter of the pagan Roman Empire and its oppression of the Jewish people, is out to get you."
During Lent we are reminded again that only Christ Jesus himself and his Father in heaven understood fully the way that he was sent to willingly walk. Jeremiah, the most Christ-like prophet of the Old Testament, got a sense of it. John the Baptist, the embodiment of all the prophets before him, struggled and ultimately accepted his role of foreshadowing the way of Christ. But the world, and the world's religious leaders, and the nations of the world, and the human natures of the world just didn't get it, and ultimately didn't want to get it.
Jesus' way had been marked out for him by the One who had called him. And Jesus, knowing full well what that road entailed, had said, freely, willingly, "Yes Father, I will do what you have asked of me. I will walk the road you have laid before me."
The best advice of financial gurus following the billions of dollars lost in the stock market last week: set on a plan, and then, come what may, stick to it. That was also Jesus' approach when it came to living out what he had been called to do.
The resolve shown by Jesus here before the Pharisees is unimaginable. As we saw last Sunday, Jesus' resolve is the fruit of his prefect trust in the Word of his heavenly Father. In the wilderness it was all he had. In our wilderness it is all we have. His call to us, his will for us, his way for us and for our salvation.
But what is this way that Jesus must walk if he is to consequently give us the undeserved gift of heaven? The way of example for us to imitate? The way of encourager and cheerleader? The way of moral teacher? The way of ..... ?
That's the million dollar question during Lent -- and any other time of the church year -- and any other time of our life here on earth. What is that way Jesus set out to walk? Where do we turn to find the answer to this life and death question? The Scriptures? The Discovery Channel?
Well, Jeremiah reveals what it isn't. (Read Jeremiah 26:8-15)
As Jesus knew from the first days of his public ministry at Nazareth, everyone loves a prophet, until our favorite haunts are judged desolate and empty and without the ability to save. Everyone loves healing without accompanying repentance, miracles without confession of sin, Easter without Lent, the empty tomb without the Cross.
Jesus learned that very quickly as he walked among the porticos of the Jerusalem temple and discussed the way of salvation with the Pharisees and Saducees and scribes. "The little kingdom you have set up here will become desolate." Jesus revealed to the religious leaders of his people. "Your desire to be saved by your own glory and good deeds and outwardly spotless life is, literally, a dead end. You will not embrace by faith anyone's righteousness other than your own. That is why you silenced the prophets and killed those sent to you to announce the Word of the Lord. Therefore, you have been warned. Do what you wish. Attempt to build your own ladder into God's holy presence. But know that I must do what I have been sent to do: accomplish salvation for all who would confess themselves as sinners and offer it freely --irregardless of social position or pedigree."
We all have our memorable scenes and lines from the movies. As we were reminded during the Youth's talent show after the Spaghetti Dinner this year, Star Wars continues to influence even the youngest among us. And what was the struggle portrayed throughout each intergalactic episode? More than simply the battle between good and evil, it is the personal struggle presented to each of us: the acceptance or rejection of our God-given calling. Who can ever forget the towering figure of a tormented father crying out to his wounded son: "It is your destiny, Luke."
We will never know, even in heaven, the full extent of the temptation presented to our Savior to run away or side-step or utterly reject the calling he was sent to faithfully fulfill. Whether in the wilderness without food and water, among well-meaning but misguided disciples, before rulers of earthly kingdoms who demanded a performance, or religious leaders who pretended to be concerned for Jesus while actually plotting his demise, Jesus was constantly tempted with the possibility of trading in his undying love for you in exchange for saving his own hide.
"And [Jesus] said to [the Pharisees], 'I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following." (Luke 13:32a, 33 ESV)
One of the most frightening things in the Lenten season is the bone-chilling realization that the religious and political leaders of Jerusalem thought they were doing a great service to God and the state by placing Jesus upon the Cross and leaving him there alone -- desolate and deserted and destitute. They bartered away Jesus' very life to save their own necks.
This was the destination of Jesus' way of salvation: alowing himself to be driven out from the loving presence of even God himself, that God would relent of carrying out what we had, by our own thoughts, words and deeds, deserved.
Desperate people do desperate things. Do you find yourself in desperate straits this morning as you realize anew that you are completely unable to fix your own fallen spiritual condition? Are you at your wits end trying unsuccessfully again and again to bail out your own spiritual boat and paddle you way into the calm waters of God's almighty favor?
Look to the One who walked your road, put on your weakness, clothed himself with your failures and frailties and your sin-wrought fate. Look to the One -- the only one -- who was called to establish an everlasting kingdom and make satisfaction for the transgressions of an entire fallen race. Look to Christ and his indestructable love for you.
Look to the One who was faithful in completing his way -- for you.
Look to the One proclaimed from the pen of Jeremiah and Isaiah and hymnwriter Paul Gerhardt, who's 400th birthday we will celebrate in one week:
A Lamb goes uncomplaining forth,
The guilt of sinners bearing.
And laden with the sins of earth,
None else the burden sharing;
Goes patient on, grows weak and faint,
To slaughter led without complaint,
That spotless life to offer.
He bears the stripes, the wounds, the lies,
The mockery, and yet replies,
"All this I gladly suffer."
God gather you under the outstretched arms of his Son, at the Cross, at his Supper, at the end of this life. Amen
Dear brothers and sisters redeemed by Christ:
"And [Jesus] said to [the Pharisees], 'I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following." (Luke 13:32a, 33 ESV)
Feigning care for the well-being of their enemy, the religious leaders advise Jesus to run away from the Holy city. "Save yourself." they command. "Herod, the one who threw God's final prophet into prison and delivered his head on a plate, Herod, who comes from the family of ruthless rulers bent on keeping their power at all costs, Herod, supporter of the pagan Roman Empire and its oppression of the Jewish people, is out to get you."
During Lent we are reminded again that only Christ Jesus himself and his Father in heaven understood fully the way that he was sent to willingly walk. Jeremiah, the most Christ-like prophet of the Old Testament, got a sense of it. John the Baptist, the embodiment of all the prophets before him, struggled and ultimately accepted his role of foreshadowing the way of Christ. But the world, and the world's religious leaders, and the nations of the world, and the human natures of the world just didn't get it, and ultimately didn't want to get it.
Jesus' way had been marked out for him by the One who had called him. And Jesus, knowing full well what that road entailed, had said, freely, willingly, "Yes Father, I will do what you have asked of me. I will walk the road you have laid before me."
The best advice of financial gurus following the billions of dollars lost in the stock market last week: set on a plan, and then, come what may, stick to it. That was also Jesus' approach when it came to living out what he had been called to do.
The resolve shown by Jesus here before the Pharisees is unimaginable. As we saw last Sunday, Jesus' resolve is the fruit of his prefect trust in the Word of his heavenly Father. In the wilderness it was all he had. In our wilderness it is all we have. His call to us, his will for us, his way for us and for our salvation.
But what is this way that Jesus must walk if he is to consequently give us the undeserved gift of heaven? The way of example for us to imitate? The way of encourager and cheerleader? The way of moral teacher? The way of ..... ?
That's the million dollar question during Lent -- and any other time of the church year -- and any other time of our life here on earth. What is that way Jesus set out to walk? Where do we turn to find the answer to this life and death question? The Scriptures? The Discovery Channel?
Well, Jeremiah reveals what it isn't. (Read Jeremiah 26:8-15)
As Jesus knew from the first days of his public ministry at Nazareth, everyone loves a prophet, until our favorite haunts are judged desolate and empty and without the ability to save. Everyone loves healing without accompanying repentance, miracles without confession of sin, Easter without Lent, the empty tomb without the Cross.
Jesus learned that very quickly as he walked among the porticos of the Jerusalem temple and discussed the way of salvation with the Pharisees and Saducees and scribes. "The little kingdom you have set up here will become desolate." Jesus revealed to the religious leaders of his people. "Your desire to be saved by your own glory and good deeds and outwardly spotless life is, literally, a dead end. You will not embrace by faith anyone's righteousness other than your own. That is why you silenced the prophets and killed those sent to you to announce the Word of the Lord. Therefore, you have been warned. Do what you wish. Attempt to build your own ladder into God's holy presence. But know that I must do what I have been sent to do: accomplish salvation for all who would confess themselves as sinners and offer it freely --irregardless of social position or pedigree."
We all have our memorable scenes and lines from the movies. As we were reminded during the Youth's talent show after the Spaghetti Dinner this year, Star Wars continues to influence even the youngest among us. And what was the struggle portrayed throughout each intergalactic episode? More than simply the battle between good and evil, it is the personal struggle presented to each of us: the acceptance or rejection of our God-given calling. Who can ever forget the towering figure of a tormented father crying out to his wounded son: "It is your destiny, Luke."
We will never know, even in heaven, the full extent of the temptation presented to our Savior to run away or side-step or utterly reject the calling he was sent to faithfully fulfill. Whether in the wilderness without food and water, among well-meaning but misguided disciples, before rulers of earthly kingdoms who demanded a performance, or religious leaders who pretended to be concerned for Jesus while actually plotting his demise, Jesus was constantly tempted with the possibility of trading in his undying love for you in exchange for saving his own hide.
"And [Jesus] said to [the Pharisees], 'I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following." (Luke 13:32a, 33 ESV)
One of the most frightening things in the Lenten season is the bone-chilling realization that the religious and political leaders of Jerusalem thought they were doing a great service to God and the state by placing Jesus upon the Cross and leaving him there alone -- desolate and deserted and destitute. They bartered away Jesus' very life to save their own necks.
This was the destination of Jesus' way of salvation: alowing himself to be driven out from the loving presence of even God himself, that God would relent of carrying out what we had, by our own thoughts, words and deeds, deserved.
Desperate people do desperate things. Do you find yourself in desperate straits this morning as you realize anew that you are completely unable to fix your own fallen spiritual condition? Are you at your wits end trying unsuccessfully again and again to bail out your own spiritual boat and paddle you way into the calm waters of God's almighty favor?
Look to the One who walked your road, put on your weakness, clothed himself with your failures and frailties and your sin-wrought fate. Look to the One -- the only one -- who was called to establish an everlasting kingdom and make satisfaction for the transgressions of an entire fallen race. Look to Christ and his indestructable love for you.
Look to the One who was faithful in completing his way -- for you.
Look to the One proclaimed from the pen of Jeremiah and Isaiah and hymnwriter Paul Gerhardt, who's 400th birthday we will celebrate in one week:
A Lamb goes uncomplaining forth,
The guilt of sinners bearing.
And laden with the sins of earth,
None else the burden sharing;
Goes patient on, grows weak and faint,
To slaughter led without complaint,
That spotless life to offer.
He bears the stripes, the wounds, the lies,
The mockery, and yet replies,
"All this I gladly suffer."
God gather you under the outstretched arms of his Son, at the Cross, at his Supper, at the end of this life. Amen
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